Jarvan awoke in a foreign room, a place that he had never seen before. The air around him felt heavy, his chest was tight, making it hard to breathe. The prince sat up quickly in his makeshift bed, this quick motion causing pain in his head to become present, making him grit his teeth. The first thing the confused prince noticed was that his trademark armor was nowhere to be found. Upon inspecting his surroundings, Jarvan realized he was in a cell-like structure. There was not much to the room he was in, merely a bed (which was really just an old mattress covered with cloth) and a sole chair decorated his desolate confinement. Jarvan rubbed his temples vigorously, the last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his camp along with his vanguard. It became painstakingly apparent that at sometime during the night, his camp had been raided, and he was captured.
"Where the hell am I?" The prince muttered to himself.
"It should be obvious… Prince Jarvan." The unknown voice echoed from beyond the confines of Jarvan's cell. He had heard the voice before, but he couldn't determine who exactly it was. His ears were then filled with the sound of loud steps making their way ever closer to his location. The Prince become more and more anxious as the ominous sound of clicking heels on stone became increasingly noisy. The figure that stopped in front of his cell confirmed that his fears were all too true. Before him stood none other than the sinister blade herself, Katarina Du Couteau.
Jarvan's eyes narrowed as he locked eyes with the Noxian assassin. Even though this revelation broke any spirit he had left, Jarvan was determined to appear oblivious to his situation; appearing weak before one of his greatest enemies would only serve the purpose of diminishing his honor. It seemed as though hours had passed before the silence was broken between the two enemies.
"You shouldn't stare at a lady you know, it's rude." Katarina sneered.
"As if I would get any pleasure from looking upon a dog of Noxus." Retorted Jarvan.
"You certainly know how to woo a woman, don't you, Jarvan?" Katarina replied, and smirked.
"I've had enough of this pointless small talk!" Jarvan bellowed, he was becoming visibly angry with the games Katarina was playing. "If you intend to have me executed, then at least let my last days be peaceful!" with this Jarvan took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his burning, inner emotions.
"Did somebody say 'executed'?!" echoed a voice throughout the seemingly baron halls of the Noxian prison. Jarvan immediately cursed his luck, knowing exactly to whom the voice belonged. Within seconds, a tall, mocha-skinned man came running into the room, spinning two axes in both of his hands.
"Draven…" Jarvan murmured in monotone voice.
"Whoa whoa whoa, get it right, Princess, not 'Draven', 'Draaaaven'." Exclaimed the Glorious Executioner, his cocky attitude appearing ever so present, even among royalty.
"Perfect, another scumbag to pester me further." The Prince mumbled.
"Hey! You better watch your fuckin' mouth, pretty boy." Draven yelled, as he stopped spinning the axe in his left hand, and pressed it firmly against Jarvan's throat. "Maybe I'll just kill your sorry ass right here, I haven't gotten to see much action lately." Draven finished speaking and grinned. Jarvan shot Draven a death glare, and was about to speak up; however, he was cut off by Katarina.
"That's enough, Draven, there won't be any killing." Said Katarina, she was firm and serious when she spoke, unlike earlier when she had been more playful in her teasing of Jarvan.
"But, Kat-"
"No buts!" Katarina interrupted Draven, and then paused to ensure he got the message. "I have special plans for this one". She finished. With that, Katarina nodded her head toward the cell door, giving Draven the signal to take his leave from the Prince's confinement. The Glorious Executioner slowly exited the small, dark room; his head hung low, clearly upset that his thirst for blood would not be quenched on this night.
The air between Katarina and Jarvan was musky, and thick. There was a certain amount of discomfort that the Prince felt being in the same room as the Sinister Blade. In a way, he actually wished that Draven was still there with them. Jarvan then looked up at Katarina to see that she had a small smirk on her face.
"What's so amusing over there?" Questioned the Demacian. Katarina did not reply, she simply began slowly, but surely making her way towards the Prince. Jarvan sat up, and began inching his way backwards, entirely unsure of the Noxian woman's intentions. Before too long though, the Prince's back hit the cold, stone wall of the cell. Katarina reached the man, and bent over so she was eye level with him. The two locked eyes, and traded stares for a few minutes. Katarina inched her face ever closer to that of Jarvan's, before long, they were almost touching; both could feel the heat radiating off of one another. Then, with a final forward motion, Katarina forced her lips onto Jarvan's. The sudden feeling caused the Prince's eyes to widen; however, in his weakened state, he was in no position to attempt to push her off (not that he particularly minded the events either). After a few seconds, Katarina separated from the recent object of her affection. Jarvan was left staring at the sinister blade, his expression just as confused as when he had first awoke in the morning.
"Very special plans…" said Katarina, with a giggle following. She took long strides as she made her way out of the humid cell that she had been in for so long.
"Make sure to get plenty of rest… tomorrow will be… evenful." With these words, Katarina made her exit, leaving nothing but the clicking sound of her heels growing feint in the head of the Demacian Prince.
First attempt at anything in a while. I know the pairing is weird and whatnot, but I wanted to try something outside the norm. Give me any criticism or anything you feel necessary.