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“You’re early! Well, no, you’re actually right on time, but that means you’re early for me.” Ezreal huffed as he pulled open the door to the Lymere mansion. This was Talon’s first time visiting, and he couldn’t imagine being late for it. Hell, it was even his first time leaving Noxus, and making it to Piltover had been quite an experience.
“Well, it doesn't matter, come in! Make yourself comfortable! I’ll be ready in like, I don’t know, ten minutes?” Ezreal shrugged and then disappeared somewhere, leaving Talon still standing in the entryway to the house.
The house that made the Du Couteau mansion look pathetic.
It made Talon anxious. There was far too much empty space as he closed the door behind him. He had absolutely no way of knowing where Ezreal had gone, and if he started walking, it looked like he could get lost easily. What was the need for so much space? He would never understand.
But still the assassin stepped further into the entry hall, looking around trying to figure out where the blond had gone. It didn't help that the other man was prone to using his teleportation, making him harder to track. But something else caught Talon's eye.
Hanging on the wall directly across from the front doors was a massive painting. Three blonds, one a child, very clearly Ezreal by the arcana marks that glowed blue on his cheeks. And then a couple that could easily be deduced to be his parents. However, there was something incredibly familiar about those two smiling faces. Talon knew them.
—————
It was a cold winter's day in Noxus; Talon sat huddled up against the wall of a forge, enjoying the residual heat the bricks let off. His stomach growled; he hadn't eaten anything in five days. It was harder to acquire food in the cold months. The markets were less busy, and people didn't leave things out as carelessly. Which meant street orphans had to fight to survive. Every year the weak ones would perish.
Talon refused to be weak. He had survived many winters, and he would survive this one. Having seen others perish, he refused to suffer that fate, even if this year he was alone. His best friend had gotten scooped up by the military that summer, leaving Talon the last of the crew. Cold and alone on the streets of Noxus Prime, just trying to stay alive.
There were rules and guidelines to surviving on the streets of Noxus, and a whole additional set for the winter. Rule one: never let your guard down. Rule two: be careful who you let see your back. Rule three: adults are never your friends. Those were the main rules that all street orphans of Noxus lived by, and Talon was no different. Talon was probably the least trusting of them all, hence why he was a survivor.
But on this day, currently having gone five days without eating and knowing he would have to move soon, Talon wasn't sure what he was going to do. If he was lucky, maybe he could convince one of the local taco shops to let him do some work for some food. But there was always the chance they wouldn't keep their end of the bargain, just abuse the free labor. He could try to do a garbage check through one of the more affluent neighborhoods. But they were harder to do during the day, and it was even colder at night, harder to move.
What was he going to do?
Leaning his head back to stare up at the sliver of sky between the two brick buildings, Talon heard the voices of two people coming down the street. Loud voices. Loud voices speaking in a foreign tongue. Tourists? Political envoys? It didn't matter; anyone who wasn't Noxian was an easier target. If he could swipe a coin pouch, then Talon could guarantee a hot meal for himself.
Talon just had to get up; he just had to peek around the corner to make sure he knew which side they kept their coin purses. He could do this. He’d done it a million times before. But it was so cold and his spot was so warm. Maybe he was weaker than he thought.
“Bernard, it’s cold out here! Just ask someone for directions.” A woman’s voice, a soft lilt clearly from somewhere less harsh than Noxus, and saying lots of words that Talon couldn’t understand. He wondered briefly where such a sweet voice could come from, but it didn’t matter. After all, he’d never see them again.
“Please, Sorcha, I’ve got this.” The man’s voice was a little firmer, but still had an interesting boyish quality to it. The foreigners definitely came from a softer world than Noxus.
Finally, moving from his spot, Talon peered around the corner to where the voices came from. A few buildings down stood a blonde couple. The male was of average height and quite lean, with wisps of blond hair sticking out from under his hood. The woman was much shorter; she wasn’t as thin as the man, though it was hard to tell with the coat she wore. Her hood was down, a long blonde braid laying over one shoulder and wire glasses resting on her nose.
From the way the two had stopped in the street, Talon could tell they were lost. Unfortunately, he could also tell they were smart enough to keep their coin purses tucked away under their coats. There was nothing that looked easy enough to steal. Maybe there was something on the back of the packs they wore, but he couldn’t see from here.
“You say you have this, but we’ve been looking for this inn for three hours. Just talk to a local, who cares how rude you think Noxians are.” The woman was aggressively whispering now, keeping her head down as a few locals passed them by. Talon crept closer, trying to see if there was anything…
“You can talk to them if you’re so insistent, but I guarantee we’re on the right path this time.”
“Says the man who doesn’t actually know how to read a map.”
“I can read a map. I just don’t need it!”
“Bernard…look.” The woman grabbed the man’s arm, her eyes focused on Talon now. She’d spotted the boy creeping closer to them, thin with a mess of dark brown hair and the most curious brown eyes she’d ever seen.
“He can’t be much older than our son.” She spoke again, a soft whisper this time.
“Hello lad, no need to pay us any mind.” The man’s Noxian wasn’t perfect, but Talon could understand him at least.
“Actually, young man, do you know where the Dark Horse Rest is?” Her Noxian was better, and her blue eyes seemed to draw Talon in, without much thought, he nodded in reply to her. He was incredibly aware of that particular inn.
“Delightful! Do you think you could lead us there?” Her smile was full of pearly white teeth. It was a little disorienting how much she stood out amongst the Noxians passing them by.
“You really think this kid knows where to go?”
“Yes, and look how hungry he looks. I’ll promise him a meal to get us there safely.”
Talon stared at the two blankly, their foreign words rolling right off his ears.
“Sweet boy, will you take us there? We’ll buy you dinner.”
Those words were more than enough for Talon, a promise of a hot meal for simply leading two tourists through the streets. Easy work. Giving another nod, Talon turned on his heel and started walking. If they were smart, they’d keep up.
It took almost an hour, and Talon was careful to keep to the main roads as he led the couple through the city. As much as he could have cut the time in half, these people were not made for the back alleys of Noxus. Not when he could hear them chattering not too far behind him the entire time. Occasionally, a word or two slipped through that he could understand. Usually things about architecture or past rulers. Seems they were into history, something Talon knew nothing about.
Finally, they came up on the inn, Talon stopping and pointing at the sign above his head. A huge figurehead of a black stallion with a sign hanging from its leg. Dark Horse Rest. The place was popular. From where they stood, all manner of ruckus could be heard from inside. And Talon knew inside would be nice and warm and the cook served a menudo that was worth whatever menial tasks for a single spoonful.
“Thank you, my boy.” The man clapped a hand on Talon’s shoulder, giving his own smile, pretty white teeth and sparkling blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Like something from a faerie tale.
“Come along now, we’ll get you dinner.” The woman ushered Talon along between them, through the door and into the blissful heat of the inn. “Bernard over there, a small table is open.”
The three settled at the table. Talon felt so strange sitting there with two adults. Two adults he knew nothing about. Two strangers. But they offered him more warm smiles to go along with the promise of a warm meal. Chattering in their foreign tongue until a barmaid came by.
“Evenin’ folks. Tonight's special is elk stew. Everything else is on the board. What do we want?” The barmaid's gaze fell on Talon after her spiel, clearly realizing he was nothing more than a Noxian orphan. Probably wondering if she could kick him out but deciding the better of it since he was with clearly foreign guests.
“Special sounds good to me. And an ale, please.” The man spoke first before gesturing to his wife.
“The special as well, please. And mulled wine, fight the chill off.” The woman made a show of rubbing her hands together before gesturing to Talon. “And whatever the boy wants.”
Whatever he wanted. The words were so sweet.
“Special too.” Talon's eyes darted around, anxious about what he wanted to ask next. “Hot chocolate…”
“Now the lad has the right idea of it! Change my ale to hot chocolate!” The man let out a laugh, smiling big as the barmaid rolled her eyes.
“Three specials, two hot chocolates and a mulled wine. I'll be back.” Noxian hospitality was surely something.
“Bernard, check with the innkeeper for a room. With a hot bath. And a cot for the boy.”
“Are you mad? We told him a meal, that's all. What if he robs us in our sleep?”
Talon couldn't understand the exchange. All he could tell was that the man was upset by the woman's words. Strange.
“Yes, but he reminds me of our boy. I want to let him bathe and have a decent place to sleep tonight.” There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, as if she had remembered something she'd forgotten.
“You're always soft about kids around his age. He's a street urchin; you're wasting your time cleaning him up.”
“We could take him home. Maybe Ezreal would misbehave less if he had a friend his age.”
“We're set to go into the Freljord for weeks! We can’t take a child along with us.”
“I know that, but…”
“No buts, Sorcha.”
They were arguing. That much was quite evident to Talon. Even without parents of his own, or speaking whatever language they were speaking, he could tell. And they were drawing a small bit of attention from the surrounding tables, his favourite. Talon was already anxious about being inside the inn. The establishment had previously banned him and the rest of the vagrant children. That was after the crew had spent more than a few nights hanging around the back door, hoping that there would be some leftover scraps.
“Boy.” A low whisper behind Talon made him jump in his seat, looking up at the two foreigners to see if they had heard it too. Unfortunately for him, they were still locked in their argument. “You best run as soon as your meal is done. You know you're not allowed in here.”
Talon gave a slight nod, never turning to see who had said those words to him. It didn't matter. The voice was right. He shouldn't be in here, no matter how nice these blond foreigners were.
“Three specials, two hot chocolates and a mulled wine.” The barmaid was back, setting down their meals, making direct eye contact with Talon. “Eat up while it's hot. Get the chill off your bones before you have to go.”
Talon nodded frantically, pulling the bowl right under his chin. The way he ate was far from pleasant for anyone else around him. Hunched over the dish, shoveling it as quickly as possible into his mouth. There was always fear someone else would take it, or in this case, that he'd get removed before he had a chance to finish.
“You don’t have to eat so fast.” The woman spoke to him, looking down with those surprisingly kind blue eyes.
“She’s right champ, no one is taking your dinner.” The man now, offering a smile. Talon had to remember that these people were strangers. As kind as they were now, that might not be the case in five minutes. He wasn’t allowed here. He was just a street orphan, he’d done a task for these people, and this was payment.
The next few minutes passed quickly as Talon finished up his meal. Making sure to sop up every last drop with the bread that had been provided alongside. With a full belly and satisfyingly warm, it was time for him to make his retreat. The warmth of this place was not for him; the beautiful blond strangers were not his parents. This wasn’t the life for him.
Brown eyes darted around the place. Talon knew where the door was; he just had to make his escape. Carefully, he pushed his chair back just enough that he would be able to stand easily. In another world, maybe he would say thank you. Instead, he pushed off the chair, making a mad dash for it. Slipping quickly between chairs, behind a barmaid and right out the front door.
In the last moments before the door slammed closed behind him, Talon could hear the blonde woman gasp in realization of what had just happened. The blond man jumping up from his seat with a shout. And then it was all blocked out. No more warmth, no more light, no more blonds.
Just Talon by himself in the cold, making his way back through the alleys to find a spot to sleep. At least he knew now that he would survive the winter. The food gave him the strength to go on. And the coin purse gripped tight in his hands would keep him fed til cold gave way to the warmth of spring.
Those foreigners had been better targets than he could have ever imagined. And he would never forget that pair.
—————
“Talon?” A familiar voice and a tug at his sleeve broke Talon out of his trance. How long had he been standing there? More than a few minutes considering Ezreal looked much more put together than he did when he answered the door.
“Talon, are you okay?” There was concern in Ezreal’s words, blue eyes staring up at him, framed by perfectly styled blond locks.
“Yeah.” Talon nodded, turning his gaze back to the family portrait. “So those are your parents?”
“Yeah…” There was something somber about the way Ezreal said that, as if he didn’t want to acknowledge them. “The resemblance really gives it away, I know. And maybe a little bit that it’s a giant painting hanging right in the entryway of my family’s house.”
“I met them once.” The words came out of Talon’s mouth before he could stop himself, watching the shock that crossed Ezreal’s face.
“You met them? In Noxus? When? What happened?” It was obvious that the explorer was hoping it was something more recent, a lead he might follow. A shame that Talon would have to disappoint here.
“A long time ago. They were angels. Saved me from dying the winter before I became a Du Couteau.” It was still a clear memory in his mind. Elk stew had never tasted as good as it did that night.
“Angels? I guess if they saved you…” It was no secret that Ezreal had mixed feelings about his parents. There was a lot of pain, abandonment issues, imposter syndrome, fear of failure. You name a complex, the blond had it when it came to his parents.
“They did. And now you get to take me to this Piltovian fish place that you talked about for weeks.” The assassin gave Ezreal a small nudge with his words. Watching as the blond took the bait for the subject change.
“Right! Let's go! You’re going to love it!” And with that, Talon was dragged away from that image of his lifesavers. One last glance over his shoulder before the mansion doors closed on them. This time without the gasp, without the shout.
Just the silence of leaving behind his angels.