Settling back into Noxus wasn't easy for Mel. Between wrestling with a Nation where she was known merely as a whisper in the streets to most, and coping with the memories of everything that happened in Piltover, Mel was struggling. But she'd be damned if she ever let it show.

Her nights were relatively restless. She'd fall asleep, then be plagued by night terrors; tonight's was about the missile attack. She was back in that position again, Jayce's hands holding her arms as she looked over the rubble and debris. Then her gaze shifted to the other councillors. Cassandra. Hoskel. Bolbok. Jayce's words rang in her head, reminding her that she could've changed this. She could've saved them the way she saved herself and Jayce, if she'd just known how to control it. It was her fault. Her fault, her fau—

A small yelp escaped Mel as she woke up in a cold sweat, sitting bolt up right in her bed. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, tears streaking down her face. Her hands clutched the bedsheets beneath her, trying to regain her composure.

Once she'd calmed a little, Mel slipped out of bed, walking to the bathroom attached to her room. This had been an ongoing routine for the last few nights. She'd have a nightmare, wake up sweating and trembling, then go for a shower. You would listen to her footsteps from a few rooms down. As Mel's personal guard, you slept just a couple rooms down the hall, so you could hear everything. And tonight, you decided you'd go check on her.

Once you'd heard the shower turn off and her footsteps again, you got out of bed, walking out of your room and down the hall to Mel's. You knocked gently, then entered. Mel was stood out on the balcony dressed in a nightgown, leaned against the banister, looking out over Noxus. She looked exhausted.