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Illaoi lost the hand to her sister decisively, but felt she came away with a victory. Sevika was in love and for the first time in her life, it was genuine.
Jinx ran away when Sevika grew bold enough to introduce them, but from what Illaoi gathered from the posters around Zaun, the propaganda beating through the streets of Piltover against her, and Sevika's own gushing testimony, she was quite the girl. Perhaps not the lost cause that Illaoi so teased her younger sister about.
She hadn't known what would have come from meeting her estranged sister, but she felt like this had been productive. Moving forward, as everything always should.
Sevika had retired for the night, citing busywork for the next day as her reasons, leaving Illaoi to a dwindling bar population.
The young woman who stumbled over herself before was still here. Instead of waitressing, she poured drinks behind the bar. She had long features and was deceptively strong behind a lithe body of what Illaoi gathered was above average height for a Zaunite, but still shorter than she.
The woman’s hair was white and cut short in a masculine presenting manner and her eyes were the color of emeralds with a slight lavender hue like so many wretched souls in this part of the world. Earrings adored her ears artfully, many of which looked as though they were sentimental pieces and seldom removed.
Perhaps a woman after her own heart.
Repeating the words Sarah Misfortune last screamed in her direction, Illaoi decided to give this admirer a chance and sat on a bar stool that was even more comically small than the chairs she and Sevika occupied earlier.
The bartender shrugged. "Sure. It's what I'm here for." Her voice was crisp and her eyes took on a sharpness as she gained confidence at being addressed. She brushed an errant strand of white hair from her hard brow.
Under the lights from the bar, Illaoi could see that the young lady had freckles across her nose and a few nicks and scrapes from unknown battle. Her muscles, though leaner than Illaoi’s round pillar-like arms, were defined and suited her figure. Illaoi wondered how many fights this woman had been in.
"My name is Illaoi." Illaoi introduced herself.
"Erin." The bartender replied keeping her eyes half turned away from Illaoi and on the glass chiller in front of her. "Erin Brecher. What can I get you, Illaoi?"
"Do you have any rum with a little spice in it, Erin? Erin Brecher?" Illaoi asked. She was a little miffed the woman was avoiding eye contact. There was no need to be shy. Perhaps this woman was more of a coward than Illaoi figured. She hoped the attempt at flirtatious humor would embolden her prospective friend.
Illaoi’s tone and face were meant to be suave, but the extremely attractive giant woman sitting at her bar was anything but. Erin was grateful for the sink behind the bar, because that is where she turned before she burst into laughter. She washed her hands thoroughly and thought about Illaoi's order.
Ordinarily, any customer ordering a "rum filled with spice" would get your standard well. Which, in these parts, in this day and age, would be one step above toilet water.
But, for a lady that she was trying to impress and who was obviously interested in her....
Erin's long, slender arms shot to the middle shelf, just above her head and a bottle of Figurehead.
"Is that the finest in the house?" Illaoi asked.
The question summoned nervousness. "Well, if you ask the purists, no. However, I've been tending bar for my entire life and it's my favorite. I think if you buy anything else you're wasting your money." Erin lifted a blue eye to the brown skinned, muscular woman before her.
Illaoi rested an elbow on the wooden bartop with her jaw resting on the closed fist belonging to the arm that the elbow was attached to.
She wore a green, armored tanktop that was so crisp that it might as well have been new, and glittering golden jewelry inlaid with the symbol of the Kracken. On her stone-like arms was a network of tattoos that Erin knew to be traditional to the Bilgewater priesthood.
Illaoi's wavy, chestnut colored hair was tied behind her head with another Bilgewater traditional headdress.
This woman was hot beyond comparison and Erin knew she likely wore her admiration on her face.
"And how long has that been?" Illaoi asked.
"Thirty years and some change. Ever since I was knee high to a keg. My family owed one of the bigger joints in Piltover before the shit started." Erin said. She reached into the chiller and brought forth a squeaky clean glass colder than the glaciers of the tallest peaks in the world.
"And you've been drinking rum that long?" Illaoi joked. The bartender's attraction was definitely not lost to the Kraken Priestess. She was eager to try this rum that her admirer so boldly proclaimed was better than anything on the shelf above it. Especially the bottle of Double Up.
“Drinking it, serving it. At my parents’ hoity toity soirees it was me who was expected to serve the drinks and they had to be perfect otherwise--” Erin made a whip cracking noise with her mouth. “Can’t make a perfect drink without knowing the flavors you’re working with. You’re not allergic to cherries are you?”
“The only thing I’m allergic to is stagnation.” Illaoi proclaimed.
Erin lifted her brows and plopped a cherry in the glass of rum and slid it to Illaoi. "Fair enough." She replied.
Illaoi sipped. The rum was sweet, bold, and tasted strangely of gunpowder but not in a bad way. The cherry provided the perfect note; like a flute to a battle hymn. It was good. Sarah Fortune needed to watch her shoulder for this one; in more ways than one, Illaoi mused.
Illaoi's supple cheeks and pleasantly curved lips wore a smile that Erin was sure she knew nothing about. Erin's heart skipped a little at pleasing her. "Pretty good isn't it?" She asked with a triumphant grin.
"Don't tell anyone in Bilgewater. They'll think some Noxian got to me." Illaoi said over her glass and finished the rest.
Erin laughed. "Bartender-client privilege." She reassured.
"Are you going to drink any?" Illaoi asked.
Erin shook her head. "It wouldn't be responsible of me to drink while I'm the only one on duty in here."
"Typical Piltover. Can't hold your liquor to save your lives. What time are you off duty so that a lady can buy you a proper drink?" Illaoi asked. It was a bold way to ask, but she had no other idea how to do it. Illaoi liked to think of herself as fearless, but asking a strange woman on a date was enough to shake the foundation of the Gods.
The boldness of the proposition caught Erin off guard and her cheeks colored. “I um…” she stammered and bit the bottom of her lip. As the manager of the bar and the only one here until the wee hours of the morning, leaving her post would be as irresponsible to Jinx and Violet as getting drunk while on the clock. Sevika would have her hide.
However, there weren’t many patrons in the bar and it was usually dead until graveyard shift whistled off for the night and that was five hours from now.
Illaoi, if she were truly a Kraken Priestess was not the kind of woman you turned down. Hell, even if she wasn’t--
Erin grumbled at herself angrily and pulled the bell behind the bar. “LAST CALL! FINISH YOUR DRINKS! WE’LL OPEN AGAIN AT 5AM!”
Grumbles were heard from the dark corners along with unintelligible noises of shock.
“Way...ye never closed it ‘fer Eisbrecher?” An older man with thinning long hair shuffled up to the bar with his tankard.
“I know, Elim, but mama’s got a hot date.” Erin replied apologetically to one of her oldest and beloved customers.
“Oh!” Elim exclaimed, going wide eyed and turned his gaze to Illaoi and thumbed in her direction with an unspoken question.
Erin tilted her head in confirmation.
Elim threw back his tankard and downed the entire mug in one gulp and slammed it on the bartop. “YE HERD THA BOSS! GET OUA’ERE! SHE GOT’S ER A DATE WITH THE HIGH KRAKEN PRIESTESS O BILGEWATER! Don’t think my ol’ ass don know a face when I see one.” Elim said the last part to Illaoi and threw her wink leaving her truly puzzled.
After a few minutes Erin and Illaoi were alone in the bar with only the jukebox playing. It was an old, soft, bluesy melody that Erin suspected was selected on purpose.
“The old man called you ‘Eisbrecher.’” Illaoi said raising a sculpted eyebrow.
“My street name,” Erin said with a shrug and vaulted over the top of the bar with the bottle of rum and a pair of glasses in her hand. She took a seat in the stool next to Illaoi and poured them both a drink.
“You know, there’s a hole over there you can enter and exit from.” Illaoi said and pointed to the opening at the end of the bar.
“Yeah I know, but this was my stupid way of trying to impress you. Did it work?” Erin asked, glacing up at Illaoi. She was certain the Kraken Priestess could hear her heart beating through her chest.
“If I am questioning you, it did not. However, I will applaud you for not falling on your face.” Illaoi replied. The nervousness was still present in Erin’s face, and Illaoi would be lying if she didn’t feel some of her own.
Erin was foolish and silly. Not someone Illaoi would normally pick out, but there was a charming nature to her that kept Illaoi from having second thoughts.
“What does your name mean?” Illaoi asked.
“It’s another word for Icebreaker.” Erin replied. “My family used to own whole fleets of them.”
“From the sea.” Illaoi said, her eyes grew wide and she sipped the offered rum.
Erin nodded. “Way up North. It was said that the frozen sea run in our blood, but I am yet to see much evidence of that.”
“Difficult this far South.” Illaoi said.
Erin nodded. “Yeah, that too.”
“You ever thought of visiting the frozen sea of the North?” Illaoi asked.
“Is this another date?” Erin quipped, taking a drink of her rum. She liked how Illaoi’s brilliant green eyes sparkled with interest. Everything about her was more gorgeous by the second.
Illaoi could say the same of Erin. She was beautiful in the soft light behind the bar. Perhaps it was the warmth of the rum, the softness of the music, or the fact that she was so beloved by her patrons that they shuttered the bar for her and even cleaned up their mess so that she could have a night with ‘Her Majesty The Kraken Priestess’ as the weird little man put it.
Erin’s face, body, the way her lips curved into a boyish smile, her eyes flickered with nervousness yet held a hint of soft confidence when she looked on Illaoi; not intimidation. It felt good to be regarded in such a way.
“Maybe.” Illaoi hazarded a reply and set her empty glass down.
Erin moved to fill it but was stopped by Illaoi’s massive hand.
“I’d like a drink, but not from the bottle.” Illaoi pushed herself off the stool and stood before Erin. “You aren’t my type--” Illaoi admitted both to herself and her companion. “—But there’s something about you. I’d like to know.”
Erin resigned herself to being a shade of pink for the rest of the day; that was her lot in life. This massive, gorgeous, thick, juicy, enchanting woman was standing before her propositioning her. Was this even real?
“Illaoi?” Erin asked, looking up into those deep green eyes again. They were soft and filled with the thing that Erin was sure they were about to do.
“Yes, Erin?” Illaoi asked. Her voice was soft and soothing.
“Promise you’ll pinch me.” Erin said in a breathy voice. It was a sarcastic quip, but her eyes were on Illaoi’s lips and she pulled gently on the Kraken Priestess’ massive hand.
Illaoi didn’t resist and bent down to kiss her.
Erin tasted of the sweetness of rum, the softness of lips, the tender trembling of hands which betrayed the confidence of her words; of yearning, of desire, of all the things that Illaoi had been missing. She opened her mouth and touched her tongue to the bartender’s and melted into the small noise she made.
Erin’s hands were at Illaoi’s face, her fingers left sparks of frozen electricity on her skin that took Illaoi’s breath and left her questioning, wanting more.
Illaoi broke from the kiss and lifted Erin up by her ass and set her on the bar. Whatever Erin was doing fueled her. She wanted more, she wanted all of this woman here in this room.
Maybe Illaoi was right in that Piltovers couldn’t handle their liquor, Erin mused gazing into the woman’s eyes. She couldn’t get enough of them, or her. Illaoi smelled like steel, water, the gentle ocean breeze, the sweetness of a woman’s hair...like coming home.
Illaoi’s lips were on her neck, her hands loosening her clothes. There were so many thoughts in Erin’s mind, but all she could do was gasp.
Gently, she pushed Illaoi off of her and felt along Illaoi’s tank top for the clasp.
Illaoi smirked. She grabbed both sides of the tank in her meaty hands and pulled ripped it in two.
“I am impressed.” Erin said, aghast. “But one thing is missing.” She reached up and freed Illaoi’s hair from its clasp, letting her head full of luscious wavy hair flow freely across her gorgeous, sculpted, naked body.
“Fuck you are pretty.” Erin said. Today, she'd worn her favorite ratty gray sweater and she was glad, because in one move, Ratty Gray Sweater was on the floor along with the t-shirt underneath, and her bra. She'd been naked many times in this building, but never sitting on the bar with the hottest woman alive ripping her clothes off.
Illaoi laughed heartily and pulled Erin into another delicious kiss.
Hours passed. Much longer than Erin gave her bar patrons. However, they understood why The Last Drop was still closed into the mid-morning.
Time so exquisite was a precious commodity for anyone. Erin Brecher had tirelessly kept The Last Drop open and a haven for anyone who dared, even when pressure mounted from Piltover, from the Chembarons, from the darkness of the world, she kept it going. Day in and day out.
Elim and many of the most loyal patrons guarded the doors and windows, so that onlookers couldn’t even so much as glance in let alone think of their own thirsts at a time like this.
Inside, Illaoi and Erin Brecher were a tangle of bodies, consciousness, unconsciousness and everything in between. Finding who they were and then losing it again until exhaustion finally caught up with them.
For warriors like Illaoi and Eisbrecher, it was a long time and in the coming months, they would need it.