"Meet me in my forge.", Jayce whispered as you two stepped out of the Hexgate behind Viktor.

"Can I blackmail the sheriff first?", you asked teasingly. "Or will that have to wait until later?"

He gritted his teeth.

"I'll take care of him.", he replied. "We have an appointment together."

Surprised, you watched Viktor climb down the stairs without a care in the world. Jayce didn't even seem to notice. His full attention was on the documents he had come with. Not the ones he had from you, but his own.

"Some advice, if I may.", from the corner of your eye you could already recognise a figure dressed in a blue uniform.

"Quick, if you must.", he waved his hand in the air before fixing his hair. "I don't have much time."

You lift your chin with a grin.

Of course, as the newest member of the council, he was in demand. Many people wanted to get on his good side and take even more advantage of his new position. In the end, you were no different. But at least you weren't going to use him like a tool.

He was supposed to be a partner. This was a position that most councillors and influential people didn't want to give. It made sense that he had little time.

Especially for you. It still felt like he tolerated you more than he liked you. Yet you were surprised that he had come to you when he needed help. And now he even invited you into his sanctuary.

Although it felt like a date with the devil. He probably just wanted a safe place before he tore you to pieces.

"Even if the sheriff deserved it, you should go easy on him.", your gaze travelling across the bridge to the man with black hair and an expression of distaste for everything. "Rats that have been cornered bite. Hard."

Jayce curled her lips, but lifted her gaze briefly. It seemed gentler than you'd expected. Like he was actually grateful for this unsolicited advice.

"Thank you.", he exhaled deeply, having to close his eyes briefly. "I'm... still getting used to the... change."

The word change made him look at you involuntarily. You didn't notice. Instead, you greeted the sheriff with a polite nod of your head.

"Councillor Hoskel.", sheriff Marcus bowed his head.

You had to laugh quietly. You were still not a full member of the council. But you liked the title more and more.

"You flatter me, Sheriff.", with a nod in Jayce's direction, you began to walk away. "But we're not quite where we want to be yet. I hope for your support. As an important part of our law and order in Piltover."

Confused, Sheriff Marcus frowned, as he always did, but didn't understand and turned to Jayce instead.

"Mr Talis.", he nodded. "You wanted to see me."

"Councillor Talis.", Jayce corrected in a sharp tone.

You didn't hear the rest of the conversation.

Tired, you leaned against the heavy iron door. Heat from machines and fire from a forge penetrated through the layers of clothing, your skin and deep into your flesh. It was like an embrace while two steps away from you the rain fell from the clouds.

Stone ground was flooded. Your own face was reflected in the puddles of dirty water. (H/C) hair stuck to your forehead. You had been surprised by the thunderstorms on your way to Jayce's forge.

Lost in thought, you looked around. This part of Piltover was simpler. Not shabby but simple. The houses were made of stone, solid but not the same white with gleaming roofs as the buildings near the town hall. You could see in the windows that people who did hereditary work lived here.

The smithy was old and quite dirty on the outside. Soot clung to the façade. The rubbish bins were full.

A chill crept into your bones as you looked at the clock that had been built into a building above a window. Later than you had hoped. But not late enough to be offended.

Diagonally opposite, a light flashed on in the house and shadows appeared. Two adults entered the flat. A child jumped into the arms of one of them.

You could still remember the feeling when your mum was still alive. You had been a family. Now you were just waiting to inherit everything from your father.

What did it feel like to lead a normal life?

Doing a simple job and coming home at the end of the day?

Not that you wanted to swap the life you had been given for another. You loved the feeling of danger that constantly breathed down your neck. You had got used to not trusting anyone.

And somehow you also enjoyed it. Especially because you weren't a good person. Not as good as you could be, at least. You were aware of all these things. And yet you sometimes wondered what it would be like if you had made a different choice.

"Hmph...", grim as a little child, you puffed out your cheeks.

You were cold, goose bumps grew on your arms and crept down your legs into your wet boots. It wasn't rude to keep your guests waiting if there was no other way. But it was rude not to say anything.

You were beginning to think it would have been better not to come. You couldn't even imagine why he wanted to see you at all, alone and at this hour.

Rain pattered over you on the small roof above the entrance to the smithy. The thunder deafened almost all your senses. You had to look at the clock again.

The light from the lanterns flickered. It seemed like this street in Piltover wasn't often under construction. Some of the houses could have used some work. Perhaps it wasn't just the Lower Town that had problems.

For a long time, the council had overlooked many things. Consciously or unconsciously. In the end it was good for you, you would be the saviour, the one who made everything better.

"You came.", surprise could be heard in Jayce's voice.

Torn from your thoughts, you looked around. He peered out of a half-open door at the other end of the wall.

"Allow me entrance?", you asked, wiping wet hair from your forehead. "I'm about to freeze to death."