Jarvan finished signing the agreement before standing up straight, and for a moment everyone just stared at the scroll in the table, as if unsure what to say. A melancholic silence settled over the Demacian's palace warroom. Odd, thought Lux; having old enemies show up with peace offerings and good wishes should have been a delight, a cause of joy and celebration. Yet, there were no smiles - actually, everyone seemed a bit... sad.

"So this is it," Said Darius, letting out a sigh. "Peace, at last."

"It's kinda weird," Said Draven, having reluctantly abandoned his axes at the door as a demonstration of trust. "I mean, after so many years of fighting, it's just... over?"

Darius, previously an icon for Noxian strength and physical prowess, had grown noticeably older through the last couple of years; his hair greyed, his skin wrinkled and his muscles slowly began to sag. One could be forgiven for thinking he was some worn out politician - that was, until they looked into his eyes, and saw the quiet storm waiting to be unleashed.

Draven, on the other hand, hadn't changed much over the last couple of years… well, at least not physically. The young man had clearly taken after his brother, and appeared to be slowly putting the spectacle business behind him to help his brother lead the nation where it counted. He had put his previous, stylish clothes for a more sophisticated looking armor, not unlike the one his brother wore.

The two men stood side by side, keeping a respectful distance away from each other, but still sticking closer than they were to anyone else in the room. A subconscious habit they had probably developed through the years of growing up in the Noxian slums.

"Truth be told," Jarvan's voice boomed through the room, loud and overbearing by nature. "War has been long over. The League had become a mere spectacle, something to entertain the masses and settle the occasional minor dispute."

"Agreed," Swain's voice, on the other side, was raspy and lacked the punch Jarvan's did. Still, there was something about it, a ring, that made you want to hear what he had to said. There was something funny about the contrast - someone you couldn't not hear, as opposed to someone you wanted to listen to. "It may have been fun while it lasted, but it was little but a waste of time and valuable resources. It was about time we were done with it."

"Still," Draven spoke again, nervously scratching the back of his neck. Even if he knew there was no danger, he clearly felt very out of place without his weapons. "S' kinda sad, y'know? Feels like all this time was just... wasted."

"I wouldn't say so," Lux smiled from across the table, her face positively illuminating the room, to a point where Draven wondered if she had actually gone all the way and imbued her teeth with magic. "If not much else, we made some good memories..." She turned towards Garen. "Wouldn't you agree, brother?"

"Agreed." Her brother, standing by her side, placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled down towards his little sister, before turning his attention to Darius. "Besides, one cannot deny trial by combat undoubtedly helped us settle our differences."

Darius nodded. "I suppose, at that, it served it's purpose."

"But has it, really?" LeBlanc spoke out loud for the first time since she had entered the room, standing just slightly behind Swain. "Our nation's core ideals are diametrically opposed. It's only a matter of time before something happens, and war starts all over again. How long will this last?"

"For as long as it can," Echoed Shyvanna's voice: she'd been standing in the back of the room, trying really hard to stay out of the conversation. She knew the visitors had come here in peace, but she couldn't quite put her history with Noxus behind. "We owe our citizens that much."

LeBlanc opened her mouth to reply, but closed it almost instantly, merely nodding. "Sounds fair."

Swain cleared his throat. "Now, I hate to interrupt this very pleasant conversation," He placed both hands on his cane, standing up straight. "But I do believe we're here to celebrate?"

Jarvan smiled. "Quite right. If you will follow me, there should be quite a feast waiting for us in the dining room."

"Now you're speaking my language!" Draven seemed to positively jump at the idea, lightly nudging his brother. "Come on Darius, one last time to get fed by Demacia."

"... Than pun was painfully bad," he said with a scowl, but still placed a hand behind his brother's back, pushing him forward. "Let's go."

Slowly, everyone filtered out of the room and out into the courtyard. All but one.

Katarina stayed behind, watching as her allies and… friends, if she could use that word, walked away from a life of war, violence and suffering towards a bright, new future.

And for the first time in her life, Katarina felt scared. Genuinely, honestly scared. Because the future seemed hopeful, happy, peaceful, and she couldn't see herself in it. Because a world without war wasn't a world she could imagine living in. She'd been an assassin her entire life. It wasn't what she did, it was who she was. What kind of use was there for someone like there in that new world?

"Is something wrong, miss DuCoteau?" Katarina was snapped out of her thoughts by the deep, booming voice coming from the doorway. She turned around to come face to face with the mountain of a man that was Garen, the might of Demacia. It was impressive, she thought, how little the years had affected him - with the exception of a few grey hairs, he looked almost exactly as he had the first day they'd met.

So absorbed in her thought she was, that she didn't realize she was staring at him with a dumbfounded look on her face until a few seconds later. She shook her head, forcing a cocky grin. "Not much. Just thinking about how much I'm gonna miss massacring you guys in the field. Target dummies get dull after a while - they don't scream as much."

Garen didn't look taken aback in the least. He'd known Katarina for decades - as an enemy, as an opponent, and eventually as an ally. And although they'd never really gotten along, he had spent enough time with her to understand her a fair bit. Her 'ultra-violence' antics did little to shock him anymore.

"Don't worry," he said with a warm smile, a sad look on his eyes. "I'm scared too."

Katarina stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, realization slowly washing over her. She smiled, but it was a sad smile - lethargic, even. She let out a tired laugh, looking down at her feet and folding her arms. "I guess we're too old to keep the paragonic warriors act going, huh?"

"I would think so, yes," replied Garen with a nod. "I, for one, am proud to be a symbol for my country. But I do believe it's time to put my sword down and leave behind the battles of my youth. I'd like to try this 'settling down' thing everyone seems to be trying to do."

"Settling down, huh?" She arched an eyebrow. "So what? Living in your own little wing of the Demacian palace, drinking and playing what remains of your life away?"

Surprisingly, he laughed at that. "Oh, gods no… Although I suppose I could. I don't think anyone in the royal family or the Demacian government would object at this point. But no, those resources are better spent helping the victims of the war, and I'd rather not waste what's left of my life away."

Katarina blinked. She had to admit, she was… slightly surprised. "So what's your plan, then?"

Garen shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. My family owns this little cottage in the outskirts of Ionia. Away from the city, journalists, scribes, warrior apprentices, and from the general buzz of society. I figure I'll go there, and live on my own until I figure out exactly what I want to do in life."

"And you're leaving Lux behind?" She said, now more than surprised. The two siblings had been inseparable ever since they had first joined the league. She couldn't imagine them being apart.

"Yes, unfortunately," he nodded solemnly. "Lux knows of my plan, of course. I proposed that she accompany me, but I knew she would decline. Change is coming to our nation - we have a government structured mostly around war and conflict, and a lot of it is going to have to be replaced as we move forward. She wants to be here to help when it happens." He closed his eyes, smiling. "She was born to lead. I can't take that away from her."

For a moment, they just sat there, in silence. Katarina didn't know what to say. She didn't feel like the conversation had solved her problems, and yet it had made her feel… oddly hopeful. Because she was certain that, if Garen could find a way to fit into this new society, she could too.

"... So," she said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Did you stay behind just to check on me?"

Garen seemed slightly taken aback at that. "I… I… Um…" he stammered, trying to put together his thoughts for long enough to form a sentence. "I uh… I wanted to make sure you wouldn't get lost in your way to the royal dinner," he said, pointing at the exit. "The castle is quite large, it's not uncommon."

She arched an eyebrow, staring at him. "It's down the hallway, to the right," she pointed out. Garen simply stared back.

After a moment, she let out a sigh, standing by Garen's side and patting him in the back as she walked along. "Come on. The others are gonna wonder why we're taking so long."

"Yes. Yes, good idea," offered Garen, following right behind her. And although she tried to hide it, it would've been hard not to notice the hopeful grin she bore as they strode out of the room.

((A/N: Since I just created this account, I wanted to draft something up for it real quick. I was always unsettled by how suddenly Riot decided to de-canonize the lore to League of Legends and decided I wanted to take a shot at giving it some closure myself.

I wrote up this fanfic over the course of a schoolday and have spent the last hour trying to pick out little grammar mistakes and spelling errors. Not a lot of time has gone into it, so I apologize if it's a bit clunky. All criticism is welcome, as per usual. I hope you all enjoyed it. Have a nice day.))