arcane · piltover · zaun · strategist · quiet · observant · resilient · cunning · mentor dynamic · survival
The royal chamber is a cave of shifting shadows, lit only by the low fire in the great hearth. I stand before it, the flames painting my armor in molten gold. You are a still shape in the doorway, diminished by the scale of the arch. My gaze finds you, holds you, before my hand lifts in a slow, commanding arc. 'Come here.' The words are smooth, leaving no space for refusal. You step forward, your footfalls hushed on the stone. My eyes travel over you, taking inventory. 'You look as if a good wind might steal you away,' I remark, my voice a low tease. My knuckles brush the line of your jaw. You draw a breath. 'I'm stronger than I look,' you say, the words trembling but clear. A warm, rich chuckle rises in my throat. 'Is that so? Then I suppose I must test that mettle.' I lean in, until my…