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“Is it to your liking?” Mel inquired, unable to contain her amusement. She couldn't help the improper satisfaction she felt whenever the woman feasted on what she had previously sneered at as “food for Pilties.”
Sevika stopped chewing, as if she had been caught red-handed, and quickly regained her usual composure, that of an impenetrable wall.
A tiny slip, a crack in solid concrete—always worthwhile. That's why Mel had invited her to dinner alone in her quarters once again. The two had been meeting in private more frequently as of late, and Mel would be lying if she said she wasn't actively looking for reasons to do so.
“Not bad,” Sevika answered reluctantly.
“I'm glad to hear that.” Mel took another sip of her water. She always finished before Sevika, her portions tended to be less robust. She looked past the table, to the board they had set up in the far side of the room and that contained all the information they needed for their next undertaking.
“Should we go tomorrow?” she asked.
Sevika considered it, and said, “I'll do one last recon in the morning. Make sure we have the correct location before we bust them.”
Mel nodded. “If you deem it necessary.” She had accompanied Sevika on her intelligence-gathering missions a couple of times and she couldn't say she loved sneaking around dark alleys and abandoned warehouses, but she didn't like it when Sevika underestimated her either. Mel was no stranger to clandestinity, nor to unpleasant work when necessary. “Do you want me to go with you this time?”
Sevika snorted. “I don't think so.”
That was to be expected.
What wasn't expected was Sevika sliding a finger under the white hood and pushing it back, exposing Mel's face. The gold sigils gleamed under the lights, making Mel flinch.
“You stand out,” Sevika said with a self-satisfied smile, and went back to attacking what was left of her food.
Mel felt her cheeks burn. This was still strange. She almost missed how adversarial their relationship used to be, just a few months ago. At work, Sevika never gave her an easy time—there were always objections, incisive questioning, endless corrections to the elaborate plans for the city's restoration. Mel appreciated all that, because she liked challenges. And because, despite everything, she trusted Sevika's judgment. However, for some time now, she had noticed that Sevika's sullenness diminished when they were alone, and she didn't know how to deal with that.
She undid her hood and set the shawl aside, as dignified as she could manage. It was simple, light silk, nothing unusual to wear indoors, but it helped her feel protected—feel normal, now that the magic was always visible on her skin. “I'm counting on you, then.” Mel cleared her throat. Needed a drink.
As if she could read Mel's mind, Sevika offered her a hand to help her get up. Mel took it. This was another oddity she didn't want to dwell on because it made her stomach flutter: whenever Sevika was around, Mel never had to open doors, pull chairs, hold onto railings or carry things. It wasn't uncommon for people to do things for her, but it was quite shocking for Sevika—a woman who didn't even respond to greetings with anything more than a groan—to do those same things like it was nothing.
Then again, the least Mel thought about it, the better.
After taking what she wanted from the bar, she returned to the large sofa with a bottle and two glasses.
“I don't drink Piltie alcohol,” Sevika stated scornfully.
Well, she used to say that about the food too.
“It's Noxian,” Mel corrected her.
“All the more reason. It's probably some kind of poison.”
Mel didn't take it to heart and instead let out a laugh. It was actually her first time trying it. The product had been brought to her a few days ago, but she hadn't found a suitable occasion to drink it. Or rather, a suitable person to share it with. She poured some of the clear, velvety-looking liquid into one of the glasses as she commented, “It has a good appearance, though.”
Sevika said, “What comes from there usually does.”
Mel swallowed. Was Sevika mocking her? Perhaps, though Mel didn't think it was malicious, it was… something else. Her hands prickled and she opened her mouth to say something she'd surely regret, but there was a sudden knock on the door.
“Councilor Medarda?”
Mel tried to dismiss them. “Later!”
“Finished,” Sevika pointed. The dishes were all empty.
Mel cursed inwardly. “Wouldn't you like something else? I can order whatever you want.” She was a good host, after all.
“Fine like this,” Sevika answered.
In defeat, Mel conceded, “Yes, come on in. We're done.”
The door opened and a procession bearing the colors of Noxus entered the chambers. The Council's staff had disappeared now that the funds were going to other matters—the tower was surprisingly empty these days—but things hadn't changed all that much for Mel in that regard. Most of what had been bequeathed to her were soldiers. An entire army, to be exact. It was a harrowing fact of her new life.
In addition to the soldiers, however, there were all sorts of service providers for any need the now leader of House Medarda might have: cleaning staff, cooks, dressmakers, shoemakers, armorers, navigators, chauffeurs, technicians, engineers, secretaries, and someone who was supposed to help her bathe—obviously, Mel had put the latter in charge of feeding Shoola's fish instead. She was already getting tired of being trailed after like that, but that was also part of Mel's new life.
Not for the first time, a haunting thought arose in her mind: These people will never measure up to Elora. Elora, who had been discreet, reliable, loyal; who had been a friend. But Mel shouldn't think about her in the presence of others. She shouldn't think of Kino or Jayce either. Much less her…
No.
Not yet.
Her thoughts were spiraling. She anchored herself to the present. Sevika and her remained silent amidst the clinking of plates, glasses, and trays as the staff moved in perfect coordination, clearing everything away and cleaning the surfaces until they were spotless. Sevika's gaze was capable of expressing judgment like few others, and Mel found it both amusing and mortifying.
I didn't ask them to do that! she thought of saying. It's what they're used to. That's how they make a living. What am I supposed to do? But of course, she kept quiet.
When the staff finished, Mel escorted them out. Only once the doors were closed, the sound of footsteps fading into the corridor, she sighed in relief. She turned back to her guest, who had gotten up and was now looking at the board up close.
Mel went to stand next to her. The summer night breeze coming in through the balcony soothed her. She glanced at the board as well. Just another target in a long list. The goal had been the same since the beginning: to stop those who were trying to restore the Shimmer trade in the guts of Undercity. Even though she had abandoned her previous alliances, Sevika kept a wide network of contacts—useful for finding out what the former Chem-Barons and the people still loyal to them were currently involved in.
It was a good method, the two of them alone had successfully dismantled multiple criminal operations in a short time. It hadn't given them too much trouble, because Sevika's name carried weight in The Lanes, and because now Mel's did too—all across Piltover, everyone knew what she'd done, everyone knew how the war had ended.
She banished the dark thoughts from her mind and focused on the woman beside her. For Sevika, things were different, much more personal. Mel had noticed the raw contemptuousness directed at the woman, the overly-cautious way in which the criminals fought her—she had even witnessed some of them trying to negotiate with Sevika by appealing to a shared history.
“Filthy traitor,” one of them had called her once, after dropping their weapons in surrender. It hadn't seemed to bother Sevika, but later that night, as they were walking back to the tower in silence, Mel couldn't stop herself from saying, sincerely, “I don't think you're a filthy traitor.” At that, Sevika laughed gruffly, and said, “It's not the first time I've been called that.” Then she rubbed her shoulder with a wince, as if recalling a past pain. Mel had the impression that Sevika distinctly remembered many of the pains she had endured in her life, like someone remembers different paintings they have seen. Mel wanted to absorb that pain, to make it disappear forever.
She was losing her mind. She had to be.
Back in the present, looking at the information displayed so carefully in front of her, Mel felt the same. She said, “Thank you for collecting all of this.”
It was Sevika's turn to flinch, although very slightly, her response merely a hum and a subtle nod. She was not one to conform to formalities—they must have seemed unnecessary to her—but Mel had discovered that she liked being thanked, something Sevika would probably never admit.
Mel smiled behind the rim of her glass, and tried to sound casual as she said, “You know? I really don't like drinking alone. Are you sure you don't want anything? A different drink? A cigarette?”
“I don't smoke,” Sevika replied.
“Really?” It was true that Mel had never seen Sevika smoke, but the graininess of the woman's voice and the color of her teeth had led her to assume so. Not that she paid special attention to those things.... very often.
“I quit,” Sevika clarified, shrugging it off.
“Hm. That's... healthy.”
“I gave up a lot of things that weren't healthy,” Sevika reflected. Mel felt the woman's gaze on her, intentional. “But I keep falling into bad habits, it seems.”
It couldn't be a misunderstanding anymore. No, it didn't feel like Mel was reading too much into it at this point. She drank the entire contents of the glass in a few gulps. The bitterness and stinging sensation made a need arise within her—a need to respond to the provocations, lest her adversary mistook her for a weakling.
“Well, surely one cigarette couldn't do any harm, isn't that right?” Mel leaned closer. “That is, Councilor, unless you don't trust your self-control.”
After a tense moment, Sevika rubbed her face in frustration, and grumbled, “Of course I fucking don't.”
They were getting somewhere. Finally. Mel's pulse quickened. She hadn't anticipated it, but now that she'd gotten an admission out of the woman, she couldn't ruin it by acting cowardly. That's why, before Sevika could find an excuse to retire for the night, like she did every time, Mel said, “You can stay, if you'd like. I'll make sure you don't overdo it.” The silence that followed felt too long. Swallowing her pride, Mel added, “I... I do want you to stay.”
Sevika smiled tightly. “Wouldn't have guessed.”
She was stubborn.
Mel was too, so she said, “Let me show you my bedchamber.” That was the only part of her rooms that Sevika hadn't been to yet, and the meaning behind that offer couldn't possibly escape the woman.
More humiliating quietness, and Sevika asked, “Is this your way of dealing with what is coming?”
A low blow. What was coming was Mel leaving everything she had built behind. What was coming was a return to a home that had always been hostile to her. What was coming was being a stranger in her own land. Noxus was impending.
Sevika always brought it up when they started to get too comfortable with each other.
She was infuriating.
“Do not talk about that,” Mel chastised. “I really don't want to hear it right now.” She grabbed Sevika by the hand and pulled her back onto the sofa—surprised at how easily Sevika let herself be led. Mel pushed the woman to sit down and took her place next to her.
Sevika watched her with guarded interest. Mel knew very well what she wanted to do, but she felt like catching the woman off guard. So she refilled her glass and brought it to Sevika's lips.
“Drink.”
No one in the Council would ever dare to talk to Sevika like that, let alone touch her. Self-preservation was a thing for most people.
To her amazement, Sevika needed no further instructions: obediently, she parted her lips and let Mel pour the liquor into her mouth.
Mel was getting away with it! Because if someone could, it was her. She had earned it. The thought gave her a delightful rush.
Sevika was definitely a drinker, because without realizing it, Mel had turned the glass almost completely upside down and not a drop of its contents had spilled, nor had Sevika shown any difficulty in downing it all. The sight was mesmerizing.
Sevika licked her lips, slowly, her eyes finding Mel's.
It was too much.
Shaken, Mel turned away. She placed the glass on the table, brushed a nonexistent lock of hair from her face and, without looking at Sevika, asked, “Does it taste good?”
Instead of answering, Sevika hauled Mel by the waist, pulling her onto her lap. Mel had barely a second to yelp in surprise, before Sevika kissed her hard. The woman's lips were just as rough as the rest of her, and her breath tasted of strong Noxian liquor. Mel knew at that moment that she couldn't get enough of that combination.
She gasped against Sevika's mouth, kissed her back with enthusiasm. But that didn't alleviate her, it only made her hungrier. Mel placed one hand on the back of Sevika's neck, holding her firmly to deepen the kiss. With her other hand, she touched the woman's scarred face. Those scars contained something dangerous and powerful, and they didn't repel Mel, for that was something they had in common.
In response to her gentle touch, a pair of rugged hands—one of them metal-cold—found Mel's hips and squeezed them. How Mel wanted to be liquid in those hands! Sevika never wore the prosthesis during meetings—“Leave any weapons at the door,” one of the rules stated—but she did the rest of the time, because she used both hands for most things. Like, for eating. And apparently, for holding Mel.
The moist warmth of a tongue coaxed Mel's lips apart, quieting her thoughts and making heat enveloped her completely. For a wonderful moment, they tasted each other without reservations, the symbolic, ever-present border between them vanishing with sultriness.
Then Sevika pulled back, turning her face away as if it were the hardest thing she had ever had to do. “Fuck,” she gasped. “Enough.”
Mel whined at the loss of contact. “Why?”
Silence. Then, something Mel had never heard: through gritted teeth, Sevika murmured, “Please…”
Mel blinked several times, incredulous, stunned. Sevika's hands squeezed again, this time perhaps to urge her to withdraw, but Mel was frozen.
“I'm serious, doll.”
Sevika was using words Mel had never heard her say before, and it was thrilling. She also made the mistake of briefly patting Mel's ass, light but commanding.
No previous lover of hers had ever dared! Now Mel would definitely not move. Feeling dizzy, she bit Sevika's bottom lip, chapped and swollen from kissing.
Sevika's strong arms tightened deliciously around her middle. “I'm going to throw you off,” she snarled against Mel's mouth. Mel could finally admit she liked those teeth.
She didn't believe Sevika's threat was serious, but…
“FUCK!” Sevika cursed when golden threads of magic tightened around her, immobilizing her in place. Her head jerked back as one of the bright strands secured her neck.
It had been so sudden. Mel almost panicked, seeing how Sevika's muscles exerted force under the luminous hold, and knowing that it was useless. She hadn't lost control of her powers, but she hadn't wanted to do this either. Or perhaps she had. Perhaps Mel had imagined exactly this, numerous times.
Either way, she ought to dispel the magic immediately.
The sight of purple marks on dark skin gave her pause.
The scars on Sevika's neck were identical to the ones on her face, deep and striking, but Mel hadn't seen these ones so closely before. Oftentimes she wondered how much it had hurt, and if it still did. She understood why Sevika was so committed to ending Shimmer trafficking, having been both a perpetrator and a victim of it. And yet she was so alive. Warmth radiated from the woman's skin, and Mel caught the scent of street smoke and sweat. Delirious, she thought about kissing those scars, about licking them.
“Having fun?” Sevika's voice brought her back to her senses. Apparently, being tied up wasn't strange to Sevika, as she had stopped grunting and fighting against the restraints. She looked resigned, almost unimpressed. When Mel stared at her, Sevika smiled sharply, and said, “I'll admit, I didn't think you had it in you.”
Mel's eyes widened. “What? No!” She cast the magic out. The ties thinned out until they disappeared into the air around them. Nervous, Mel said, “I wouldn't do anything you don't—”
Sevika didn't let her finish. She picked Mel up and threw her face down on the cushioned surface. Mel let out a huff and barely had time to feel indignant before Sevika said, from on top of her, “You're very persistent. I like that.”
Mel wasn't quite following, but all her doubts faded into the background when Sevika lifted her dress, the silk bunching up around her waist. Mel wondered if she'd passed out due to whatever the fuck they put in Noxian drinks. But it all felt very real, especially when Sevika moved Mel's panties to the side, the delicate fabric sticking to her for an instant. Mel squirmed, shocked but not displeased.
Sevika said, “Huh, you're pretty everywhere, aren't you?”
The heat traveled up Mel's neck in waves. And to think she had felt exposed without the stupid hood before!
Sevika prodded with a finger, which resulted in a wet sound. “And you're… fairly ready.”
Fairly?!
Damn it all, a line had already been crossed. Mel knew nothing if not how to take a chance. She got up on her knees, parting her legs and arching her back to give Sevika a better view. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the woman was taken aback.
Good.
Without wasting any more time, Mel took her hand between her legs and started teasing herself. She was more than fairly ready, she'll show her.
Doing it in that position was awkward and filthy, but she was rewarded with a change in Sevika's breathing. She could feel Sevika's intense stare.
Yes.
Mel wanted her to watch. She groaned softly as she put two fingers inside, stretching herself.
Fucking watch me.
Maybe that'd be enough. Maybe this was just what Mel needed. To do this in front of the woman whose respect she had worked so hard to earn, and who she would have to sit across from during their next Council meeting, pretending that everything was as usual. To display her need so openly before her relatively recent ally, her work colleague, her… her…
“Let me!” Sevika snapped, and roughly removed Mel's hand. Mel protested, until Sevika licked the length of her pussy, making her tumble forward. Mel's face fell flat on the cushions, her arms useless, but Sevika kept Mel's hips up, her mech hand firm under Mel's belly.
Mel cried out.
“Fucking calm down! I haven't done anything yet.”
“Do… Do not stop!” Mel demanded.
Sevika, for once, decided not to be difficult. Her tongue, hot and slick, traced Mel's slit again, and again, insistent, each time deeper. Mel rolled her hips, not caring much about looking pretty at that moment. Her need was too great.
Noticing her impatience, Sevika combined the intrusion of her fingers with that of her tongue, opening Mel up with total shamelessness. The warmth of her mouth was overwhelming, and perfect. She pressed calloused fingers to Mel's clit, coaxing an embarrassingly loud moan out of her. Mel moved her hips harder against Sevika's face, her hand reaching back blindly, trying to bring the woman deeper into her.
In an unusual display of consideration, Sevika stopped pressing mercilessly, and instead caressed Mel's clit with circular motions. The electric current that resulted traveled through Mel's interior, making her bucked her hips forward.
Sevika chuckled, the vibrations of her voice entering Mel's body.
“Stop playing,” Mel gasped.
And Sevika stopped playing, diving in with practiced ease.
Mel clung to anything she could, clutching the tapestry in her fists, pressing her face against the cushions to stifle her moans.
With that, Sevika had a problem.
Mel felt a firm smack on her bottom. “Let me hear you,” Sevika ordered.
She gave an order! To Mel!
That alone made her dizzy with arousal. Slowly, Mel looked over her shoulder.
Sevika held her gaze as she continued devouring her. Her fingers hit just right inside, and Mel, as commanded, gave the woman her unfiltered moans. They moved together frantically until Mel felt it coming. Sevika must have sensed it too, because she growled and moved Mel effortlessly, lifting one of her legs into the air.
Her mouth fixed on Mel's almost painfully swollen clit, and sucked. Mel cried out loud, heedless of who might hear. Her hands went to the woman's hair, holding her there. If Sevika were to pull away now, Mel was sure she would cry. All she could focus on was Sevika's mouth, sucking hard, and her thick fingers hammering insistently inside her, in the right spot. Soon, Mel was coming. Stars blurred her vision and pleasure exploded inside her, shaking her to her core.
She didn't really know what happened after. She vaguely registered how Sevika laid her down on her back, caressing Mel's sides with her thumb, easing her fingers out of her with softer thrusts, her mouth and tongue relenting.
One particular stroke of the woman's tongue made Mel shudder, too sensitive.
“Sevika…”
Silence. Then Sevika said, “You never call me that. I must've treated you well.”
Not caring anymore about their competition of wits, Mel said, raggedly, “Yes.”
“Hm.” With another swipe of her tongue, Sevika collected more of Mel's fluids. She swallowed.
Mel thought she might pass out.
Maybe she did, because Sevika's licks started to pick up again, and Mel knew, in a visceral part of her, that the woman wasn't done with her.
Sevika came up to kiss Mel. Her mouth tasted of Mel's pleasure. The intimacy made Mel purr into Sevika's mouth, scratching the woman's scalp with her nails, encouraging.
Too encouraging, perhaps. Sevika's kisses became more intense and began to descend.
When Mel looked down, she saw Sevika peeling the fabric of her dress off her breasts. Calloused thumbs brushed her hardened nipples, making Mel twitch where she was still sensitive.
Mel sighed. Then a soft smack on her inner thigh urged her to part her legs again.
Fine, Mel had been leading people all her life, both overtly and subtly, and always with expertise. She could allow herself to be led for once.
She deserved it, even.
“That's bullshit.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“Language,” someone said.
“Councilor Sevika, if you have an objection, I remind you that you must raise your hand and—”
“You do know those pipes have worked like shit for decades, right?” Sevika continued, completely ignoring the objections. “Building on top of them will leave that area without any access to clean water.”
“Preliminary reviews determined that the drainage system in that quadrant is adequate on a temporary basis,” someone else argued.
“And it'll be screwed as soon as more people start using the supply,” Sevika insisted. “It's happened countless times.”
“Again, on a temporary basis—”
Sevika scoffed. “You just don't want to spend on replacing them.”
“We have to prioritize, Councilor.”
“Air and water are always the priority,” Sevika stated. “Isn't that what was established?”
Another pause. A surge of murmures.
“Councilor Medarda?”
The room's attention turned to her, expectant. She was the one who had to mediate. But how could she argue against that?
Air and water should, in fact, always be the priority.
“The Councilor from Undercity has a point.” Putting on her most professional side, Mel recited, “There is a mention in the firsts reports of a series of defects in the initial installation. Ignoring this any longer would most likely result in double the expense in future reparations.”
That seemed to settle the matter. Expressions changed with reconsideration around the room. Good, Mel thought. She knew how to appeal to her peers, and no one wanted to spend more than necessary.
“I'll have the reconstruction teams prepare a quote for replacing the piping systems. I'll ask supervisor Kiramman to submit a full report at the next meeting.”
Sevika didn't gloat. She never did, not in this. And when Mel asked for further objections, no one spoke up, so she moved on smoothly to the next item on the agenda.
Later, she caught up with Sevika in the desolate corridor and blurted out, “Would adhering to protocol kill you? You aren't doing yourself any favors!”
“Has that crap ever served an actual purpose?” Sevika shot back.
“Just…” Mel pinched her brow. “Please stop being difficult.”
“Am I now?”
“I'm on your side here. Just give me a little help.”
Sevika said, almost too earnestly, “Yeah. I will.”
Mel swallowed. She schooled her expression right away. “Alright.” She moved restlessly, letting a beat of silence pass between them. “Will you join me for dinner tonight? I reckon there's still much to discuss.”
“Ah, so this time you will show me your bedchamber?”
With a surge of embarrassment and anger, Mel caught Sevika's jaw in her hand.
“Would you not?!” she exclaimed. “You… You… Behave yourself!”
A short, dry laugh. “You know a lot about that.” On Sevika's face appeared a mocking, impertinent, and, much to Mel's chagrin, charming smile.
A now awfully familiar hand touched Mel's lower back, moved down a little further. Sevika cradled Mel's bottom, as if there couldn't still be council members lurking in the halls.
The worst part was that Mel couldn't bring herself to protest.
Sevika's jaw was still clamped in her firm hand. That action was no less incriminating than the woman's words.
Mel let go of her.
“Don't be late,” she said with gravitas, then turned around and left, still feeling Sevika's triumphant gaze on her.