Undertow | Ekko x Reader

You shift back and forth on your feet, your weight never settling, nerves making your hands twitch at your sides. Today is the day. Alyssandra is coming back to you. She's alive. She's okay. She didn't die out there on that battlefield. You know that. It was confirmed. But the days without her stretched long, and doubt had a way of creeping in no matter how many times you told yourself it was fine. That she was fine.

And then hearing about a looming war from Sevika hadn't done anything to ease your anxiety. 

When Sevika was called to the Piltover council yesterday, you, Jinx, and even Sevika herself had been caught off guard. The three of you had debated whether she should even go, whether it was worth entertaining whatever nonsense the council was about to spew. But she went. And she came back with news that settled like a rock in your gut. 

Piltover had backed itself into a corner with Noxus—with Ambessa. And now, with war clawing at their front doors, the first thing they do is come crawling for help. Help from the same people they've spent years crushing beneath their polished boots, the same people they turn a blind eye to, unless it's convenient for them. 

Yeah. Fuck that.

You and Jinx had been clear about where you stood. But Sevika and Ekko? Not so much. You could never tell what Sevika was thinking—she kept herself locked up too tight for that—but Ekko... Ekko. You knew him too well. He couldn't not help people. It was who he was, down to his very bones. It was why you cared for him so much. But helping Piltover? The thought alone makes your lip curl. 

You don't even realize you've fallen so deep into your own thoughts until a warm palm presses against your shoulder, grounding you. You turn, meeting Ekko's curious gaze as he studies you. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. 

You shake your head. "Nothing." 

He doesn't buy it. Of course he doesn't. He just gives you a look, one that makes it clear he sees right through you. 

With a sigh, you give in. "I'm nervous," you admit. "To see Alyssandra again. And I'm still thinking about what Sevika told us. About the meeting." 

Ekko's expression shifts, softens with understanding, and he nods. His fingers press against your sore muscles, rubbing slow, soothing circles into your shoulder, easing tension you didn't even realize you were holding. 

"Worry about all that later," he says, voice low and steady. "Right now, you're finally getting to see Alyssandra again. That's what matters."

You nod before shifting your gaze forward, eyes locked on the bridge that connects Piltover to the Undercity. Truthfully, you haven't been here long—maybe minutes—but it feels like hours, like days, like you've been standing in place, waiting for Vi and Alyssandra to cross that damn bridge. 

Then, as if you've willed it into existence, two figures emerge from the mist. 

Vi—tall, unmistakable—walks with a steady stride, her hand wrapped around a much smaller one. And that little hand, that little figure—Alyssandra. 

A sharp breath rushes into your lungs, and before you even register it, your feet are moving. 

A huge smile spreads across your face as you break into a sprint, and Alyssandra—your sweet, strong girl—does the same. She yanks her hand free from Vi's grip and takes off toward you, her little legs pumping as fast as they can. 

The second she's close enough, you scoop her up, spinning her in your arms as laughter spills from both of you. She smells like salt and steel, like dust and warmth, like home, and you press frantic kisses into her black hair, whispering, "I missed you so much, so much, Alyssandra."