Chapter Text
The Hound was currently a strange mix of pleased and frustrated. Pleased because he has a lapful of calm, secure Kiramman. Frustrated because the Councilmembers before him were being as difficult as they could reasonably manage. The first part of his plan had gone well —other than the small hiccup of Tobias being here, but that had been quickly solved— but it seemed the second part was going to be a bit harder.
The Council held no respect for him —he was just trencher trash to them— but they did hold some respect for the power he held. The fact that he could make viable threats gave him a validity they did not want him to have but that they could not take away from him. Not without attempting to call his bluff, and they all knew he wasn’t bluffing.
He had to turn down his aura just to get them to sit in their chairs, their fear response apparently a bit too strong since they had basically refused to move from their little huddle like a herd of terrified prey. Well, at least they were self-aware, if only because he had made them so. Still, he had expected them to do something, even if it was just simpering and wheedling him in an attempt to regain power in the situation. Even once he got them to sit down, they all just stared, watching him in only slightly less terror than before.
He huffed, but apparently, he was going to be the one leading this conversation, so he got things rolling, “While I am certain you are all very worried about the rest of the people I have taken, I’m afraid this is the only one I can return.”
There was a long, aching silence, but the Hound was patient, and eventually, after much fidgeting and swallowing, one of them spoke.
“A-and why is that?” Shoola stuttered out, voice shaking as she attempted to put enough fake respect into her voice.
Hound frowned slightly and pulled back on his aura even further. Had his magic really become that much more powerful? He had known that he had gotten a power boost, but he hadn’t thought it to be quite this much.
“The rest have been released and, for one reason or another, either cannot or will not return to Piltover. For most, you may be able to see them again as long as something is put in place in your laws and systems allowing people to travel over the border between our territories. However, Mel may only return if her existence is no longer considered illegal due to her being a natural-born mage, so I suggest you look into changing your laws surrounding magic and its users as well.”
More crickets. It felt like he was staring at a field of deer, eyes shining bright with nothing happening behind their eyes. He sighed, resisting the urge to rub his head and growl.
“Am I being understood, or am I talking to an empty room?”
He got several bobblehead nods and a stuttered “u-understood!” from Hoskel. Good enough.
“Whether you get the rest of them back or not is entirely in your hands. Whether you get her back,” He gestured to Cassandra with his head, “Is entirely in mine.”
He sent a bolt of vicious glee through the Kirammans —Cassandra more than Tobias, seeing as he didn’t get a say in all this, but not avoiding him completely since he wanted to ensure he stayed feeling like Pack and not Prey— making them react almost cinematically with his words. Based on the looks the Council was giving him, they did not have their wits about them enough to notice the strangely perfect timing.
“I only want two things from you. Two simple, easy things.”
None of them looked like they believed him, and for once, he did not blame them for it. These things might be simple for him, but people like these might have problems.
“I do not wish to have to terrify you all into cooperation every time I want something. I may not be adept at Piltovian politics, but I believe that some kind of mutual professional respect will do us well in the future.”
There were no complaints or comments from the peanut gallery, even though some of them looked like they were holding themselves back from speaking. Whatever, at least he had a captive audience, even if this conversation didn’t have much conversating in it.
“The only other thing I want for the return of your Councillor is whatever legalities and paperwork required to give me control over Ambessa Medarda by Piltovian law. What is it called in your words? Power of attorney? I would not usually bother with such things, but the Lioness will need to stay in Piltover in order to receive adequate medical care, so bringing her into Zaun —at least for now— seems inadvisable. And, as I have just established, I would like to improve our relationship into something less in need of threats. The poor medical staff don’t need me breaking in and stressing them out further; they have important jobs to handle.”
The Councillors were pale, or their species equivalent of it, clearly uncomfortable and very much wishing to refuse him but unwilling to do so with fear still gripping them tight. And that had certainly been the point of this visit, but he found their fear more and more agitating the longer it went on. He wished to relish in the fear of his Prey, but this was like watching a bunch of blind mice cower before a cat. None of these people were really a threat to him; they were barely a threat to his Pack, and they were so pitiful-looking that they didn’t even make good Prey.
The Councillors were all glancing at each other, each attempting to make the other talk, and Hound did not feel like dealing with the Council’s petty squabbles.
Before they could decide who would speak, Hound stood, snapping all of their attention back to him.
“Seeing as Piltovian workings tend to take a lot of paperwork and such, I will leave you to gather that together while I return these two to their Den. I am certain with your years of experience as Councillors, you will have everything prepared by the time I get back.”
Practically the moment his back was turned the Council started to scramble, and he smirked slightly as he held the two Kirammans closer. If nothing else, it was a bit amusing to watch the little rats scurry, knowing they were too frightened to try and bite back. He would need to keep an eye on them, but they weren’t really anything to truly worry about. Not when they were boxed in on all sides, even if they did not fully see all of the walls surrounding them.
Just as he had expected, it was far too easy to carry the Kirammans all the way to their Den. Once more, he found himself pondering whether this was because he had overestimated Piltover or underestimated himself. Not that he particularly cared; it worked to his advantage, so he wasn’t about to complain.
He took care to find the correct nest —there were a great many rooms in the Kiramman Den, but only one that the two in his arms actually nested in— so that he could tuck the married couple in. With the long walk and the steady stream of calming magic, if they weren’t asleep yet, they would be soon. It would be good for them to rest together after being apart, even if it meant Hound had to let them go.
He had become much more attached to the Kirammans than he had expected, although that was likely due to his overcharged instincts. He did not mind the feeling, but it seemed like his Pack quickly grew weary of the hyperactive wolf within him, so for them, he hoped that things would settle soon. It was just so hard to ignore his instincts when they were so loud and strong.
He could ignore them —he wasn’t incapable of controlling himself— but it was much harder than it had been before his most recent transformation. Thankfully, he could feel the urges lessening in strength over time, so soon enough, he should, at the very least, be back to where he had been before Ambessa had made the biggest mistake of her life. He didn’t know if his instincts would ever get below the point they were at when he first time traveled or if that was his new baseline, but there was nothing to do about it but wait and see.
Right now, he very much wished to make the Kirammans’ bed into a proper nest and settle down to watch the two sleep, but he had things to do, and Tobias would likely be displeased to wake up with him still there. He did not have the information Cassandra did, nor the experiences, and so he had no reason to trust that Hound meant him no harm. It was fine; Hound had time to show him. Just not right now, no matter how badly he wished to. He needed to be a responsible Pack Leader and go make sure the Council was actually doing what he had told them to.
After his new Packmates were tucked in, the lights off and the curtain closed, the Hound left the way he came, satisfied with the safety of his Pack and of his world. The biggest threats were taken care of. His friends were alive. The Pups were happy and cared for. Silco understood him. Really, it was all perfect timing. Now that he had his life together, he had time to train his new pet.
With a vicious tooth-filled smile, the Hound sank into the darkness, a silent predator lurking in the shadows. The Arcane whispered and swirled around him, accepting him as its own. The world outside continued on, obvious to the shark hiding in the small forgotten pond.
Nobody was ever prepared for the Hound.