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Arcane: the Struggle for Zaun

Summary:

Piltover has declared martial law, Zaun is a divided mess of competing factions, and Ambessa Medarda is about to have everything she wants, but with most of Zaun and Piltover's grand heroes absent one way or another, it will be up to their supporters, allies and confidants to decide who wins the struggle for Zaun.

Notes:

My brain will have the Arcane it wants, even if I have to write it myself!

This work will feature a number of different perspectives on the unfolding conflict between Piltover and Zaun, starting immediately after Act 1 of season 2. I am aiming to have every perspective be from a character that isn't a League Champion, but this is a target I may fall short of later on when some important conversations happen with only them present.

Chapter 1: Rictus - Surveying the Battlefield

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“She has delivered us a great boon,” Ambessa said, looking out over the paint-streaked city. Already, its people were scrubbing the paint away, but their blood would stay up. Rictus had seen it in their faces when the Kiramman girl had accepted Ambessa’s offer.

“If we drag our feet on this conquest, Caitlyn will be motivated to convince the Tallis boy to make his weapons, and we will have our ability to fight back.”

And yet there was still something bothering her, he could tell. There was a tension to her posture that didn’t fit her victorious words. He waited patiently, but when she didn’t volunteer anything, he prompted her with a grunt.

“Where is she, Rictus?” she demanded, her hands shooting up in frustration. “I refuse to believe for one second that she didn’t hear anything about our plan. She must have prepared for Salo, at least.”

He hummed in agreement. Ambessa’s daughter had proven to be canny enough to slow her down following the attack on the council. Ambessa hadn’t even told her patsy of a councilman to invite the younger Medarda, because she would obviously catch on. So then-

“So then where was she?” Ambessa demanded, again. “If she wasn’t there to try to stop me, then what was she doing?”

Rictus didn’t have an answer to that question, but he knew Ambessa needed something from him. “I will find out,” he told her, dutiful.

“Do,” Ambessa responded, the stress of that outburst sliding off of her as she became her casual commanding self once again, although a little tension remained. “Until we find out what Mel is planning, we cannot rest easy,” she said, her eyes looking into the distance, across the bridge.

He took that as a dismissal and stomped off to find out what the hell Mel Medarda was up to.

Even Piltover’s elites shied away when he made his way past, the butt of his glaive thumping on the marble floor. The way it echoed through the halls was one of the few things about this city he found satisfying. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the grandeur. Noxus had plenty of grandeur, even if it was more solid than all of these large windows and high arches. No, what bothered him was what all of this gilded glory said about its people.

None of these people had ever faced war, ever faced real challenge . They draped themselves in gold and soft fabric without ever having fought, having bled for any of it. These fancy, weak-kneed fools flaunted all their wealth like they had ever truly earned any of it, and they had no sense of how fragile their supposed status really was.

The idea of installing a man as nakedly desperate for status, and as lacking in the willingness to fight for it as councilman Salo as their key to Piltover’s resources, had been a bitter pill for Rictus to swallow. Much like field medicine, the fact that it was a disgusting experience likely meant it was necessary, but he had been more than a little relieved when Ambessa had told him they were picking a more worthy candidate.

Salo himself only further proved his lack of qualifications in his response to being sidelined. He had been sulking in his chambers ever since, and the runner Rictus had sent to find out what he knew about Mel’s plans only further confirmed that the man posed no threat to their rule. It was pathetic. Any self-respecting Noxian would have at least put up a fight .

The rest of them were no better. The number of Piltover citizens who had responded competently to Zaun’s attack on the memorial could be counted on one hand (since the pink-haired girl wasn’t from here), and it still hadn’t been enough to wake them up to how vulnerable they truly were.

Their council wasn’t even made up of the inventors their damned city was so famous for.

He shook his head. This city was ridiculous. The wide windows on the way to Mel Medarda’s chambers spread the daylight around to show off every little corner, but the only thing here that felt real was his own armor, the chest piece and vambraces fitting familiarly on his body, and the weapon resting comfortably in his hand.

That made him think back to his trip to Zaun. That place had felt real. Unfocused, but real

It was a shame that they had only been able to use Renni as an asset the one time, because she had been a woman who understood the struggle . It had made her easy to exploit, yes, but at least it had been something.

All of Zaun had been like that, clawing blindly for whatever scraps of power they could find. It had almost been respectable, were it not for the lack of discipline and a unifying vision that stopped them from banding together, but at least they understood the fight .

If he’d been free to make the choice, he would’ve started in Zaun and turned them into a real fighting force, but larger strategic goals hadn’t allowed it. And now they would be crushed under his heel.

War was no time for idle fancies.

It also was no time for distractions, however much this city invited them. For all that their coup had been successful, they hadn’t won yet , and it was his job they weren’t caught off guard at the flanks.

Not a one of his usual sources had seen Mel Medarda. Maybe he’d caught some of Ambessa’s nerves, because he was starting to feel uneasy. He did not have his general’s political insight, but the thought that Mel would simply let them do what they did made no sense to him.

They were missing something.

He pushed open the doors to her chambers, and he was not immediately stopped by Elora demanding why he was here.

Similarly, nobody so much as raised a word against him as he made his way into her office.

An office that was very much missing Mel Medarda.

The Medarda sigil itself, displayed so prominently, was very much marred by the purple paint that stained the wide windows framing it. The damage was mirrored between the black and red outcroppings on the floor.

It was a big enough change, he almost missed the glass brush on the floor on his first pass. He didn’t think Mel or Elora would leave a mess like-

His eyes widened when he got a closer look.

Oh gods no. She was going- Fuck. He was going to have to be the one to tell Ambessa about this.

He turned around and rushed back out, leaving the black rose petals behind.

Notes:

A short little chapter to start us off with, almost more of a prologue than a real chapter, but I'm setting the tone.