Hello guys! Here is one of my favorite pairings. I wasn't keen on writing a completely carefree, fluffy story, considering the background the main characters have, so I'm planning to gradually develop the relationship, going through hardships and growth. I hope you like it.

Chapter I

"That was a remarkable performance, Miss Buvelle. Like every one is, if I dare say so."

With a nod I silently thank the woman, then stride off to meet other spectators.

The hall is full of people, from yordles to humans.

Everyone is watching me with admiration and makes room for me to walk as I pass near them. My trusty interpreter is following me, a young man with dark hair and a funny monocle.

"Miss Buvelle."

Limping towards me, a middle aged man is smiling, a large, six eyed bird sitting on his shoulder. Two enormous bodyguards tail him, Noxus markings on their breastplates.

"I would like to congratulate and thank you for this excellent piece. Your ability is truly stunning. Your very presence is like a beacon of radiance among the barbaric darkness around us."

I return the smile, politely bowing in front of the Grand General.

"I thank you for your compliments, General. Your words are truly too kind." Quickly says my interpreter, reading my hand signs.

While you flatter me at every concert, Swain, you've killed hundreds of innocents, your lust of power stalled only by this forced cease-fire.

If Swain has seen through my poker face, he sure doesn't show it. Taking a good look at my body, he leaves, his weird crow staring at me from his back.

I repress a shiver and check my dress. A long, black one piece dress decorated with small dark blue inscriptions around the neckline and sleeves. In my left hand, the heavy case of the etwahl.

Weird how even if I'm practically a Demacian, the Grand General does not bear hostility towards me. Well, at least he doesn't show it.

I leave the main hall, searching for the buffet area and help myself with some snacks.

I'm starving! I hope they have those nice puffy yordle sweets I used to eat...

I leisurely scan around the table, looking for someone worth my interest.

When our gazes meet, the occasional bystander politely smiles, sometimes raising his or her glass towards me.

Among a Demacian couple and a weird Piltover scientist, a lone young woman is carefully picking spinach puffs.

Quickly shuffling through the crowd I reach the girl.

"Oh, Miss Buvelle." the girl smiles at me, moving her short blonde hair away from her face. "I really liked your performance. It was a lovely evening."

She has crystal blue eyes, her petite figure wrapped in a dark red dress.

I point at her eyes, gesturing my fondness for them.

"You like my eyes? Thank you."

I ask her her name, trying not to gesticulate too much.

"I am Adele Lee, Miss Buvelle."

I nod happily, grabbing a spinach puff from the table.

"Oh, you must try these. They're exquisite."

With small bites I eat the puff. It's tender and tasty.

Assuming a more relaxed stance, I ask her to follow me on a near balcony, away from the noisy crowd.

"Oh, I would love to, Miss Buvelle." replies Adele, understanding my hand gestures "But my husband is waiting for me downstairs at our table. Why don't you join later? I'm sure he would be delighted to meet you."

I freeze, trying to keep my smile up.

"Our table is the one near the bronze column in the dining room. Do stop by!"

With a nod, Adele strides off. I stay there for a minute, staring at her vacant figure.

Then, grabbing another puff, I move outside, on the balcony.

After some time, the interpreter joins me, leaning on the railing.

"I guess I did the right thing not following you this time."

I give him a mean look, then finish the puff.

"You know, I think you should improve your skills a bit. It's not like you can randomly hit on every cute girl you find at concerts."

I don't hit on girls every time I have a concert.

I quickly translate my thought into gestures, making the man laugh.

"Indeed, sometimes you hit on men too."

Another mean look, this time followed by a weak smack on his cheek.

"All right all right. No more talks."

We stay like this for a couple minutes, the cold air of the Ionia capital city filling my lungs.

"Sona, I'm going back inside." the interpreter tells me, stretching his legs "Don't stay out too much, there might be others that would like to meet you." he slowly moves to the window "Also, you could catch a cold."

I dismiss him with a silent laugh.

I turn my back at the theatre, admiring the city at night. A feeling of loneliness fills my body. I start thinking about my dear mother, gone some years ago and my fiancée, who ran away with another girl three years later.

Mentally humming a lullaby, I focus my attention on the street below.

Two figures are laying there. A guard and a smaller figure. A girl maybe. Something white stretches out from the small one's back.

Intrigued, I take the fire stairs on my left and silently reach the street level.

It's a girl all right. The first thing I notice is the white thing on her back: a set of nine, fox-like tails happily wagging. Surprised, I take a better look.

A masterfully crafted Ionian night dress hugs an extremely attractive body, with long legs and perfect curves. Her face is stunning: a small nose over full red lips curved in a seductive smile. Six whisker-like marks fill her cheeks. Her big, yellowish eyes are like holes to fall into. Two fluffy fox-ears stand on her head, mixing with her black hair.

Her stunning beauty blocks me, forcing me to keep staring at her.

Obviously, the guard is feeling the same.

They start talking, the volume too low for me to hear, but I don't need Heimerdinger's genius to understand the topic.

Suddenly, the guard faints. The girl helps him sit near the theatre's wall, then tends to him, her back towards me.

No, she's not checking on him. I realise.

Something is coming out of the man, like a glowing fog or something.

I can feel the power of it. And the evilness.

Fear banging at the back of my head, I start fiddling with the lock of my etwahl, feeling its energy awakening. With a click the case opens.

Throwing the bag to the ground I grab the instrument and start playing an aggressive melody. Power surges from my hands, forming a bolt of magic.

The creature turns to face me.

Expecting anger in her eyes, I'm stunned when I see tears gushing out of them. She's in complete despair, her mouth half open in a scream.

She leaps forward, surpassing me with one jump.

I mentally aim on her, but hold my magic at bay. We lock eyes once more. I feel her power wither, moments before she jumps in a side street and disappears.

A feeble rattle switches my focus to the guard.

Quickly, I change the deadly energy of the etwahl in an healing one, trying to save the man's life.

After two intense minutes, I feel his breathing stabilize and watch his eyes regaining focus.

I'm drenched in sweat, both because of the strain of the healing process and because of the shock.

Who...or what was that girl?

Helping the man stand, we hurry to the main entrance, where a group of guards was preparing for riot suppression.

"What happened?" nervously asks my interpreter, appearing behind the towering figures. "You look exhausted! What's with the guard? And the etwahl? I heard some noise, did someone attack you? I called the guards, I was worried and..."

I shut him up with my hand, leaning on a column of the main gate.

I noticed the guard was talking with someone. This...fox girl somewhat dosed him and started to...I don't know, like...suck his life or something.

The man violently curses as soon as I finish my story.

"This is something bad Sona. Don't you remember the tales of a beautiful girl-like spirit stealing souls one or two years ago?"

I shake my head, confused.

"Well, it would seem she's back. But why? I remember news also told of the same girl helping villages and saving lives against Noxian army ravagers. We need to take this to the Elders."

I nod a tired approval, then find a chair and sink into it.

That girl wasn't stealing his soul I say to myself, pondering I felt sorrow, pain from her. It looked like she was actually sorry for what she was doing. Whatever it was, I stopped her.

I raise my head, staring at the stars visible from the glass main door of the theatre. I have the strong feeling this is not the last time I'll meet her.