Chapter Text
Mel made analyzing people a skill of hers, so, when she first realized what a true blunder it was to ignore Viktor, she allowed herself some self-flagellation.
It’s not completely her fault– Viktor has made blending into the background an art. Mel doesn’t quite understand why, of course, but she now at least knows it’s on purpose. Before, she’d assumed it was from idiocy. Not the classic type the counselors have, but the one many other women have fallen for– the idiocy of underestimating oneself. She thought Viktor didn’t have true drive, true ambition, and so she had gone in for Jayce Talis instead. Jayce was a beautiful man, and a rather steadfast one as well, so she didn’t regret that. No, what she regretted was not realizing that Viktor was a worthy investment as well.
It had been an accident to stay in the lab so long. She’d been trying to appease Jayce into attending a dinner with her– he seemed resistant to politics, but she knew if she just twisted a few more screws, he’d be where she wanted him. Mel and Jayce walked into the room, and she heard Viktor muttering.
“Maker, he can’t even put his tools away.” Drawers were opened and closed with surprising ferocity. She could only see Viktor from behind– he was on his crutch, as usual, and she heard the whispers of her mother’s thinking. A weakness like that would never be allowed in Noxus; you shouldn’t validate it either. She batted it away.
“Vik, it’s nearly 11,” Jayce said as he stepped closer to him. He shot an apologetic look to Mel– sorry, gotta wrangle him. She gave him a nod– of course. Take the time you need.
“Jayce, you have seen me stay up much later,” Viktor said wryly. “We may be graduated, but we are not yet old men.”
“Still.” Jayce shifted his legs and placed a hand on his neck. Mel could feel the good-natured grin radiating off of him. “Can I convince you to go home?”
“No. No, you cannot,” Viktor said without any room for objection. Mel had to stifle a laugh, much to her surprise. “Discoveries require work, Jayce, and I am so close. I can feel it! The gems, to stabilize them permanently, I am sure that we just need–”
Viktor flung his hand out, and a wrench fell to the floor with a clatter.
“черт возьми,” he said, spitting the words out. “Remind me to look at replacing my nerves once I figure out my spine.”
“Should I put that before or after changing out your lungs?”
“After, of course.” Viktor turned in his chair, finally looking at Jayce, and his eyes were bright. Mel could see the ambition radiating off of him. “I am afraid a scientist struck unworkable by a cold is of use to no one. I–”
He froze as his eyes locked with Mel’s.
Mel was quite good at reading people. She knew what she perceived was true. So, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat insulted as Viktor’s face cycled through anger, disappointment, resignation, and a light layer of disgust. What had she done to warrant that, of all things?
“Counselor,” Viktor said evenly. “I apologize for my crude language. I was not aware you were here.”
“No need,” Mel said with the wave of a hand. “I apologize for intruding. I was just saying goodbye to Jayce, and he wanted to check up on you first.”
“And I was right.” Jayce gestured. “Seriously, I knew you’d still be here!”
“Progress waits for no one,” Viktor murmured wryly, clearly sharing an inside joke. He smiled at Jayce; it was sharp, glinting in the light of the lab. Mel felt her attention hone in, just as Viktor’s face went placid again. “Do you require anything else, counselor?”
“...no. No, I do not.” Mel placed her hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Jayce. Goodnight, VIktor.”
She stepped away, ignoring the sound of “I think that’s the first time she’s properly referred to you by name,” from Jayce.
Well, Mel may have messed up, but the opportunity was not lost quite yet. Jayce Talis was still fond of her, and she knew how to appease someone. Perhaps it was time for a new challenge.
Mel had never been one to be reserved: when she was devoted, she threw herself towards it wholeheartedly. She began to look into scientific endeavors, the history of philosophers and mathematicians. With Jayce, knowledge of the city and smithing was enough; she’d gained considerable respect from him by understanding how a hammer was forged. Mel was certain Viktor required more… more knowledge. A more delicate touch.
She knocked once on the door to the lab, carefully adjusting her dress. Mel did always try to look her best– a person’s outfit was their best armor, after all– but she suspected that wouldn’t appeal to Viktor. She’d dressed down a bit for the occasion. It was… freeing, in an odd way.
“Come in.” the reply was so absentminded that Mel toyed with the idea of leaving. Would he even have the time to properly engage with her? She shook it away. No, this was a new step forward, one that seemed more and more intriguing the more she thought about it.
She opened the door.
“I had thought it would be Sky or Jayce at my door, but neither of them are the sort to wear stiletto heels to a lab,” Viktor remarked. “Too easy to trip in.”
Mel hesitated, looking down at her shoes. Damn– had she already misstepped? No matter. Viktor’s voice sounded amenable– cheerful, even. This still had potential. She continued forward, watching Viktor’s back as he seemed to solder something so small.
“I would just advise you tread carefully. I may attempt my hand at cleanliness, but I cannot guarantee the same for my partner. Now.” She watched as Viktor removed goggles and turned to face her. Once again, his face was devoid of outright opinion. “How may I help you, Counselor Medarda?”
“Call me Mel,” she said, waving a hand. She started to lean in, to begin her script, but–
Viktor’s eyes narrowed.
“Counselor,” he repeated. “I apologize for my bluntness, but I am not Jayce Talis. I prefer to keep my friends and my investors separate.”
Well then. Mel tilted her head. “Is that what you think of me, then? An investor?”
“If you are here to ask me for a favor, then yes.” Mel was becoming more and more fascinated by the minute. Viktor’s eyes did move to avoid her gaze, but not out of self-shame. It seemed more of an evasive mechanism than a defense one. He was trying to divert her because he didn’t want her to notice his skill, not because he didn’t want her to notice his failings. “Otherwise, I may be more amenable.”
“Hm.” Mel placed a hand on her hip. “If bluntness is what you prefer, then I’ll engage. I am here for something, but not for a product. I’d like to get to know you better.”
VIktor’s gaze turned from neutral to outright wary. “What for?” his voice, while well-controlled, still had the barest hint of disdain.
“You seem rather insulted by a counselor taking interest in you,” Mel remarked. She watched as true anger flashed in Viktor’s eyes before he sighed.
“You forget I am not from the Topside, Counselor. I am from the Undercity.”
“Oh, that really can’t make that much of a difference,” Mel began to say, but she stopped as a corner of Viktor’s mouth began to curve.
“Of course not,” Viktor agreed. His lips twitched in a smile, betraying the slight mocking in his tone.
Hm. Mel was getting a bit irritated, she would admit, but there was also a thrill. Jayce was a lovely man, but he wasn’t quite the same as her. She saw the world through advantages and opportunities. Everyone else who did was a fool here, blindly swinging in a facsimile of true political manipulation. Viktor… Viktor seemed like the true equal here.
Mel walked over and pulled up a chair, ignoring Viktor’s eyebrow furrow. “Well, consider me uneducated in the ways of the Piltover land disputes. I’ve only been here for two years, after all. Is you being from the Undercity also why you’re so determined to be ignored?”
Now she had him. Viktor’s posture, always a bit off, stiffened. “I am not sure what you mean.”
“I know people, and yet I’ve always passed over you in skill.” She moved slightly, tapping her hand against her leg. “Jayce may be born for the spotlight, but you’ve been rather keenly avoiding it. I want to know why.”
“Ah.” Viktor began to smile– a proper one, without the mockery of before. “You would like to know why I do not ‘show all my cards,’ as one would say. Well, for the same reason you passed over me– they are a threat to others.”
“Please.” Mel rolled her eyes. “Knowledge, intellect– that has always been a threat. Why do you think being known for your own achievements would hurt you in any way? Piltover has always been more than willing to award its most loyal denizens, and–”
“Except I am not a Piltover denisen, Counselor,” Viktor interjected sharply. “I am from the undercity.”
Before Mel could open her mouth to interrogate, VIktor gestured to his own leg. “I did not fall from an accident and create this limp. I was born with it, and, as my mother gave birth to me in her own bedroom, no doctor could help me. I have had a limp all my life, and I will continue to do so.”
VIktor unbuttoned his sleeve and ran a hand against the pale skin, starkly jutting against the bones. “As an academy student, I have been allowed access to doctors for the first time in years. Apparently, I am deficient in nearly everything healthy needed for skin development. The one benefit of no sunlight, of course, is no skin cancer, but I do not find it a fair deal.” he rolled his sleeves back up. Mel bit back a rising storm in her stomach.
“All of these things do not even exist as concerns in a Piltover’s citizen’s mind,” Viktor said softly. “And it does not mention the concerning status of my lungs regarding fissure gas, the secondhand drug exposure from a young age– all of that has been my life until I got into the academy.”
“I don’t…” Mel shook off the shock. It was very rare for her to be utterly and completely wrong, and she’d been wrong regarding Viktor twice now. It was frightening. It was also a bit exhilarating. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I suspect you are one of the few that understand,” Viktor said. He buttoned his sleeves back up. “I represent Piltover’s greatest threat: their undertreated, starved, iron-deficient citizens. I cannot make myself visible here.”
It clicked. Mel had always known that traitors, the most likely rats, always had to be an example– it was a risk otherwise. Viktor was the example. If Viktor carefully toed the line, stayed the bright student who was coincidentally from the undercity instead of a true member, he would be allowed to stay, except his whole nature of existence was reliant on the undercity part being hidden enough to keep others calm. That was nearly impossible when he was a walking reminder, so he couldn't let himself be too visible. Be who he truly was- better than half the rich kids in the academy- he'd be the threat again. Skulk in the shadows, he could build up his reputation, continue with his work, and not need to worry about judgment or lost funding. Reputation was everything when funding, after all, so he had to keep his reputation protected.
“I see.” Mel frowned. “Why would you tell me this?”
“You are not from here,” Viktor said simply. “I suspect you do not have the same biases towards the Undercity. You have also shown remarkable intelligence, according to Jayce.”
“It is not hard to earn his trust.”
“No, but it can be difficult to keep it,” Viktor shot back. “He is not a fool. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” Mel agreed with a smile. She was liking Viktor more and more. She watched him— his back oddly tilted, his cane to the side, but still a brazenly honest figure.
She decided to take a leap.
“I’m here because I was banished from Noxus,” Mel said slowly. She picked up a tool on the work table so she could avoid Viktor’s inquisitive eyes. “My methods were never violent enough for my mother.”
She glanced up. Viktor was chewing on his lip. “Though I know it is not a consolation, you are better with words than most. Your chosen weapon is very effective. I do not tell most about my life in the Undercity, after all.”
Mel couldn’t help but feel pleased. She knew it was a genuine compliment for who she actually was instead of the person she usually pretended to be. “Does Jayce know?”
“That I am from the Undercity? Of course. Why I let him always take the spotlight when I am his equal? No. I…” Viktor turned away, slightly. “I do not think he would understand.”
Mel paused. She thought about Jayce, sweet Jayce who was steadfastly determined to always do the right thing, who thought compromising and allowing some evil to do more good was unacceptable.
“No,” she murmured. “He would try, but…”
“It is a wolf eats wolf world.” Viktor sighed, running a hand through his hair.
She startled. “You do know that’s a Noxian saying?”
“I have read up on your culture as best as I can,” Viktor admitted. “After Jayce started mentioning you, I thought it was… wise to do so.”
“Jayce mentions me?” The question slipped out from her lips without a thought. She winced as a glimmer of understanding flashed in Viktor’s eyes.
“You have made quite the impression on him.” Viktor’s tone was mild, but there was clear amusement dancing in his eyes. “I thought that was on purpose.”
“It- it was.” Mel resisted the urge to fidget. “I had underestimated his openness, though.”
“Jayce wears his heart on his sleeve. It can be admirable, in some ways, but…”
“It can bite you in the ass in others?” Mel finished.
Viktor grinned at her. It was sharp. “Exactly.”
The door to the lab swung open. “Hey, Vik, got some coffees and-“ Mel could hear Jayce falter in confusion. “Uh. Mel? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, just talking to Viktor about Noxus,” Mel replied easily, standing up. She gave Viktor a nod. Viktor gave a curt one back and he got up as well, walking to Jayce and grabbing the coffee. “He has quite the knowledge base on it.”
“I, uh.” Jayce’s eyes darted between them. “I see.”
Mel stood, dusting off her dress and making sure her heels clicked with every movement. She lightly brushed Jayce’s shoulder with her hand– she watched him stiffen, ever-so-slightly, and his cheeks flushed a bit. “Good luck with your latest inventions, Jayce.”
“I– thanks,” he stammered out.
Mel let herself smirk as she walked to the door. She turned her head over her shoulder one last time.
Viktor’s face flashed from irritation to amusement, and he gave her a slight nod. She closed the door behind her with a satisfaction normally only done from a hard day’s work.
The next day, Mel summoned Elora to her desk.
Elora inclined her head. “My Lady?”
“What do you know of the Undercity?”
Elora froze. Her face became pale, her eyes wide. “I… not much at all, I’m afraid.”
“We’ve spent two years here, and you haven’t learned anything about half of my constituency?” Mel murmured, playing with a pen in her hand. “That seems rather unlikely to me.”
“I have heard many, many rumors,” Elora amended, “but I haven’t done the work to fact-check any of them yet. You haven’t shown any interest.”
“Hm.” Mel stopped and let the pen rest in her pointer finger and thumb. Elora did have a point– Mel did tell her what to do. Elora was just the person that carried her wishes out, albeit better then Mel could ever hope to do. “If you could do some research into the history of it along with Piltover’s topside, that’d be rather helpful.”
“Of course.” Elora started to walk away, and then she hesitated. “Is there… is there any particular reason I am carrying this out?” is there a threat from the Undercity I should be aware of, was the message in her eyes.
“No, no, just general curiosity.” it’s a personal musing: nothing you need to worry about, Mel returned with a casual hand gesture.
Elora nodded once, seemingly satisfied, and headed off to the archives. Mel stood up and went to her personal quarters to investigate her wardrobe. If she wanted to properly look into the Undercity, it would probably be wise to have a decent disguise. She’d been purposefully projecting one image of herself in order to make herself recognizable; it would now come in handy to reverse that for her favor.
After three days, Elora came back with a file. She placed it down gently right next to Mel’s mug as Mel stirred a cup of rooibos tea. She may have been banished from her home, but, with the wealth she was accumulating, she was more than allowed to revel in the finer aspects of Noxian society.
“Well then.” Mel started to flip through the folder that was nearly bursting at the seams. “You seem to have gathered a… decent amount of information.”
“It’s astonishing how different the Undercity’s history is from Piltover’s,” Elora breathed out. Mel looked up. Elora had a fanatic glimmer in her eyes; Mel had to suppress a groan. Of course the history of the Undercity would be Elora’s new obsession. At least this one was solidly beneficial for Mel, unlike when Elora had become intrigued in the art of bow weaponry or neoclassic art. “While they were established as a mining colony for Piltover, their own economy is functionally completely different from ours.”
“I see.” Mel took out an illustration– it had a stone engraving, labelled Janna. “Do you think any of the other council members know about this?”
“If they do, they’d be in deep denial about it.” Elora shook her head. “It… Piltover barely has a handle on them, besides the threat of our military.”
“Does the Undercity even want to be independent?” Mel said this as a joke– she, of all people, knew what a nightmare running a sovereign nation would be. She paused at Elora’s lip bite.
“Elora.”
Elora sighed. “The short answer is yes, but no one can agree what that’d mean. The long answer is very much yes, and the man currently running the Undercity is gunning for exactly that. I suspect that one man named Silco is behind all of Undercity's drug endeavors, but the Enforcers have somehow avoided this.”
Mel heard the many implied messages: the longer you stay here, the longer you’re closer to a literal civil war. The Undercity is becoming a drug-infested den as the counselors look away. There’s a head of the snake, but it seems to be connected to the enforcers, so cutting it off is unwise.
Mel sighed. She shut the folder. “This seems to be a can of worms.”
“Very much,” Elora said with a nod. “I think it is worth your time, however. The reason the Undercity still exists is because of the raw access to materials it has as part of the underground. Having a handle on the Undercity, even if it becomes a separate entity, would be beneficial to all.”
“Well then.” Mel took the folder and placed it in her drawer. “A new project for me, I suppose. That Silco man?”
“Just started establishing his perch.” Elora ran a tongue against her teeth. “He’s a common name amongst them, but he’s only now really solidified control of an area called ‘the lanes.’ before, it was under the handle of a man named Vander, but he… passed away two years ago.”
“I see.” Mel stood up. “Elora, could you fetch a cloak for me? Along with a bottle of water.”
“Of course.” Elora walked away, and Mel let herself sigh deeply.
Goodness, this was more complicated than she’d thought. Her fault for assumed Piltover was like Noxus– all the grime barely hiding under the glitter instead of relegated to a seperate area. Noxus may have been incredibly developed as an empire, but its technological grasp was behind Piltover’s, and it seemed the control of resources was what gave Piltover that edge. Of course they had a chokehold on the place with the raw material. They let them die so no one could be wiser of the true city holding onto the wealth.
Mel took the cloak from Elora, and she began to take off all her jewelry. She started to sharpen her daggers.
Since she was trying to take Jayce under her wing, Mel had learned his schedule. A few accidental run-ins during a day would highly solidify their friendship, so she’d structured her days so those would sneak in. Her knowledge of his schedule was helpful now– she knew when Jayce would not be at the lab, instead at dinner with his mother and helping with House Talis logistics. From the conversations 3 days ago, she didn’t quite need to find Viktor as much as go to him. The man seemed permanently stuck at his lab.
Mel rapped on the door twice. “Enter,” Viktor said again, barely audible above a high-pitched hum. Mel pushed the door open.
Viktor was wearing welding goggles, and he startled at Mel’s entrance. He flipped a switch, and the blue gem, which had begun to glow in the middle, powered down and slowly levitated down. “Counselor Medarda? What is it?”
“I told you to call me Mel, Viktor.” She walked over to him, and tucked her hands into the cloak pockets. “I hoped it was somewhat obvious.”
“My instinct tells me you want me for an adventure, but my brain says better.” Viktor turned his head to his cane which leaned right next to him on the table. He stared at it. “If you need speed and discretion, Jayce is the preferred choice.”
“True, but Jayce wouldn’t be able to handle the Undercity if given direct instructions.”
Viktor’s head snapped towards her. “You want to go into the Undercity?”
Mel parsed her words out, letting her fingers tap against the table. “I would like to say that I’m taking an interest as a counselor, considering they’re supposed to be my constituents, but it’s more… complicated than that,” she said slowly. “You’ve intrigued me, Viktor. Not many manage that. I’d like to learn more about where you’re from.”
Viktor sat down, his back creaking as he drawed the chair closer. He leaned his head onto the top of the cane, on top of his hands. His eyes were… guarded. “I… I do not think you know what you are getting into.”
Mel snorted. “I definitely don’t. For all of the brutality of Noxus, I am still the descendant of its ruler. However, I am not Jayce– I will defend myself.” She grabbed her daggers and let them twirl around her fingers, reveling in the flashes of blue light that scattered across the room as she did so.
VIktor leaned back. He nodded approvingly. “That is reassuring, but you cannot bring those daggers.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“The steel is too polished.” he stood up and hobbled toward a drawer. “You will find yourself pickpocketed quickly once you draw them. You would probably be able to stop their hands, but I’d prefer to slip in and out. Chopped fingers do draw attention.”
Mel blinked. She looked down at her daggers. She’d told herself she’d miss something before heading, considering she’d never really understand the Undercity, but it was different to be faced with it. Feeling this ignorant was a new experience for her. Even when she’d first gone to Piltover, she’d had some knowledge. Mel was now heading to the Undercity on the equivalent of a whim, and she was utterly unprepared.
Viktor passed a pair of scalpels across the table, and a sharp knife. “While differently weighted, these should be sharp enough.”
Mel tentatively took them. She moved them left to right, feeling the steel balance, and nodded. “More than. I… I will need your guidance, I’m afraid.”
“As long as you protect my back,” Viktor said wryly. He gestured towards his cane. “While I can be agile, a cripple is always a target. I’d rather not injure my leg and have to explain it to Jayce tomorrow. You know how he likes to mother.”
Mel laughed. Viktor was right– Jayce could get something close to fussy when someone was injured. A counselor had gotten a concussion, and Jayce had started worrying about light glare. If Mel was more sentimental, she’d call it adorable. She purposefully labeled it as foolish instead.
“Alright.” Mel began to walk, but she let Viktor stay just a hair ahead of her. She didn’t quite know where she was heading, after all. “Do you have an idea of where to visit?”
Viktor tilted his head. In the light, his cheekbones were more visible than ever, and a strand of hair fell over his eyes as he contemplated. “I think I do, yes.”
After Mel had gotten into Piltover and established a hold there, she’d gotten reaffirmed in her own wisdom. In this golden, glittering land, she was practically jaded compared to most of them.
SHe’d gotten cocky. For all her knowledge of death and murder, she didn’t know about starvation at the level she was seeing in the Undercity.
It wasn’t just literal starvation– that was occurring, of course, but that had been in Noxus as well. It was the starvation of freedom, of any developed resources or assistance. It was grimy, it was filthy, and the city was rank with desperation. Mel had been desperate few times in her life– to be surrounded by it now was… disconcerting.
“We’re visiting a waterfall?”
“An abandoned factory area,” Viktor corrected. “It is one of the few places in the Undercity with access to natural light. I haven’t been there in a while, what with Hextech and all, but, if you are curious, it is perhaps the nicest place to be down here.”
“I doubt you’ve ever taken Jayce down here,” Mel muttered as they cut through an alleyway. A man was hacking out a lung to their right, a rat was scurrying between her feet. Please don’t say Jayce has seen this, was the unspoken thought in her mind.
“No,” Viktor said bluntly. He stopped to lean on his crutch for a moment. When he started up again, his face wasn’t visible as he said, “I would not want to see him despair as he would from this place.”
Mel blinked. She forced herself to continue on towards the neon glare.
While there was little to no natural light here, it was more than compensated with the artificial life rampant across the many different shops. It wasn’t the light of a candle, but of chemicals. Mel realized, after a moment, that thousands of candles lit would lead to smoke being trapped down here, and there was still a stench of factory air prevalent enough. The neon light was still the better choice.
She coughed on the drug-mist that escaped from a man next to her. She rushed up to Viktor. “Not to insult your homeland, Viktor, but is there any ventilation here?”
“Just added, actually,” Viktor said. “This is our filtered air, Mel. It used to be full of factory smog called ‘the grey.’ It’s odd, not to feel the air part as you step through it.” He said it with such melancholy it was disconcerting. How could he possibly miss it?
Then Mel remembered the thundering war cries of her mother’s armies. She murmured, “I miss the sound of the blade. The army’s rooms used to be filled with hundreds of men and women fighting until one of them passed out. I remember how it felt when a body fell to the floor, passed out from exhaustion. The wood would tremble, and the room would go silent, just for a moment.”
Viktor looked at her. He’d been rather reserved with all his expressions until now, but the look of relief on his face made Mel stop in her tracks. She was good at playing the game, but she’d never made someone so plainly relieved before.
“HEY!”
Mel shifted to hide her jump and turned to the three men now standing in front of her and Viktor. Two were commonplace thugs, one held a bat, and they were all clearly gearing for a fight.
“Nice cloak you got there,” the head thug said, gesturing with his bat. “I expect you got some valuables on you, huh?”
Mel did not speak. She leveled the men with a glare. Do not give your enemies the satisfaction of your wit. They only get what they deserve, and what they deserve is death, not bargaining and a verbal spar.
The thugs scowled. “If you don’t want to do this the easy way…”
Mel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, believe me, this will be far easier for me than you.”
The thug in the back sneered. He cracked his neck, and the one with the bat gestured to the front two. “Get em.”
Before anyone could step forward, Mel launched her knife straight into the man’s chest. It cracked the ribcage like a piece of wood, the noise echoing across the alley. The thug stared at the left side of his chest. The blood trickled down, and he slumped to the ground.
Mel adjusted her stance. Let the wolf guide you, child- it is best to use your anger to your advantage. Be angry. Be rageful.
She grinned.
The two other thugs hesitated; she ran forward before they could act. Her hands were cold from the metal scalpels, and she felt the warmth from blood hit her knuckles as she slit their tendons. They two others fell to the ground. She quickly slipped the scalpels back into their pockets and grabbed one of them by the head, bashing the skulls in with a crack like a watermelon. The third man tried to get away, but he tried to use his feet— a mistake on his part. She picked him up and slammed him into the ground.
Mel calmly walked over and grabbed the knife with one hand. She pulled it out, wincing at the wet squelch from the flesh. She whirled it and angled it against the head thug’s throat. He was clearly dazed from her bashing in, but she wasn’t going to leave him without a threat. She also wasn't going to kill anyone if not necessary.
“You let us leave, and you don’t follow.” Mel pressed. The blood against his throat welled up. “Understand?”
The thug nodded frantically. Mel smiled coldly– your face is your card, child. How you react to death is as important as when you commit to the end. Do not let death sway you, and do not let it disgust you. It is part of life; is it what keeps you alive.
Mel hesitated for a moment before turning to Viktor. She had expected many things from him– disgust, horror, mild illness, all the way to anger. If Jayce had just seen what she’d done, he’d certainly feel that way.
All she saw on Viktor’s was cold resignation and acceptance. He gestured his head for her to follow. Mel obliged.
A thug got up onto their forearms and began to scrabble towards them. Mel had already grabbed the scalpel again, letting it dance against her fingers, but Viktor beat her. He maneuvered so his cane knocked in the side of the man’s head. The thug fell back to the ground with a thunk; blood pooled underneath him.
Viktor sighed. He scraped the blood off his cane. “So much senseless violence,” he muttered, but he did not hesitate in walking away without a second thought. He left, no worry, no shame-- just cold resignation that he had done what he needed to do.
Mel stared. She ran up to him before she could forget, and she pulled him in for a hug.
Viktor clearly didn’t understand a hug– if she hadn’t just utilized her mother's weapon training for the first time in 2 years, she’d laugh at the hilarity of it. Instead, she murmured, “I would’ve hoped Jayce taught you how to do this.”
Viktor huffed out a laugh. He leaned in. “He tries his best.”
Mel leaned back, patting Viktor’s shoulder, and she began to walk forward again. “I think you and I have more in common than one might expect, Viktor.”
“Indeed.” Viktor’s mouth quirked up. “I wish it could have come from a less brutal reality, but so is life.”
Mel nodded. She now understood why Viktor had been so relieved at her response earlier– Viktor wouldn’t judge her. Mel had expertly slashed people without a second thought, cut tendons and threatened their life without real regret, and Viktor had just turned away. He knew brutality. She wouldn’t have to be someone else with him, and it had been a long time since truth had been an option.
“I think you and I will be very good friends,” she said.
Viktor’s smile widened. “That is… nice. I would appreciate it, if you are willing to teach me how to aim a knife like that.”
Mel knew an olive branch when she saw one. She inclined her head as they walked through the neon streets, the light reflected off the puddles on the ground. “If you teach me how to understand Jayce’s scientific ramblings, it’s a deal.”
Viktor laughed. It was the first real she’d heard from him– it lit up the air with its melodic quality. “Of course. We both tend to forget others do not have the same establishment in science.”
“I am aware,” Mel said dryly. “Now, as your good friend, I insist that you show me the finest cuisine the Undercity has to offer, not a waterfall. I'm rather hungry.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were full of humor. “Are you sure? The best of the Undercity tends to involve copious amounts of frying oil and salt.”
“The best of Noxus meat is raw cattle or the head of birds.” Mel barely stifled her laugh as Viktor’s eyes widened to the side of saucer plates. “I am used to very adventurous cuisine, I assure you.”
Viktor inclined his head, before smiling and snapping his fingers. “I have just the idea, then. Be warned– the fungus is there on purpose.”
Mel couldn’t stop the laughs now, and she descended into a full-on cackle. With Viktor as her side, the harsh light of the Undercity seemed more forgiving, and she let herself indulge in a true friendship.