A/N: A League of Legends story, featuring my OTP: Jarvan and Shyvana. How I love this couple, mainly for the love I bear for Shyvana. Shyvana just f*cking rocks. I hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to ask any questions!


It was early morning, the sun was barely rising over the horizon as mist settled into the forests, outside the city of Demacia. The sound of the running rivers emptying into the ocean could be heard as well as the early bird's chirping. Waves crashed gently onto the white beach, and small seagulls scuttled along the sand, searching for their morning meal. The morning seemed peaceful as usual and almost a picture of perfect peace, but not everything is at it seems.

A loud groaning of the central city gates interrupted the peaceful silence. Valiant white horses, cladded in the Demacian blue, white, and gold colors shot out from the entrance. Respected knights cheered as they ran forward, the thrill of the hunt consuming them. In the lead, was the powerful King Jarvan III, his troops followed faithfully, their intentions on stopping the Noxian intruder.

Earlier that morning, an assassin had swooped in, stole from the treasury of Demacia, and vanished without a trace. Luckily, a citizen had spotted him, and reported the occurrence to a nearby guard. Almost everyone had gone up in alarm then. The battle plan had been organized to chase the culprit from all possible exits, but only the most notorious of knights took the route towards Noxus. A dangerous path that had many thieves and criminals in its whereabouts. Noxian assassins were known for their trickery and elusive nature, and if they chose the main route, they would be disguised within the rift raft. Searching for such a foe would be extremely difficult, it would take keen eyes and sharp senses to even figure out where he went.

It was when the King's son, Jarvan IV, noticed a small path leading off the trail. Being close to the rear of the group, he could easily depart from the group and take to the new path. There was small possibility that the enemy had taken this route. Taking the chance, he dove into the uncharted territory, his lance in hand. As he dove into the dense green foliage, he realized that his horse could not follow. Summoning his courage, he jumped off the creature's back and began on foot. Charging down the path, he cut down the greenery in his way, not bothering to glance around his surroundings. His heart pounded in his chest as he clumsily fought through brush in heavy golden armor.

Jarvan knew that something was waiting for him on the other side. He felt his instincts screaming at him to continue forth, even though his mind begged him to turn around and return to the group. He almost gave up and turned, but felt victorious when he spotted bright red through the trees. Katarina Du Couteau. He thought. The precious Noxian assassin, and a clever one at that. They had been instructed that a man had broken into the treasury, but citizens were never reliable. It was very possible the most notorious assassin had broken in. Knowing that his time was limited he sprung into action.

"Demacia!" Jarvan cried as he launched through the trees towards the bright red hair. Rocks splintering beneath him to encase his prey. Looking up he wasn't met with the cerulean blue eyes he had been looking for, but was met with bright amber eyes. Eyes that seemed to be forged in the flames from the center of the Earth, and he could only stare, his breath catching in his throat. Taking a step back he examined the clearing. The rising sun shone through the gaps in the trees, illuminated the clear dimly. Shadow stilled around him and he couldn't quite tell where he was. Glancing back towards his prey, he noticed it was a small girl, around 12 to 13 years old, at least five years his younger.

Jarvan looked at her through wondrous eyes. Her hair was bright red, with orange and yellow tinting, as if her hair had been spun from fire. In a dramatic contrast, her skin was a light blue, blue like the morning sky. Dirt was caked upon such skin and she adorned a tattered, old tan dress. She was on her knees, shaking, and had obviously been crying.

"Who are you?" He breathed. She didn't appear to be from Noxus, or any country really. She was unique in every way, her eyes were too big, hair too bright, her skin was the oddest color he had ever seen, she had broad shoulders, but a tiny waist, and shapely legs, that were remarkable for being so young. After fully examining her, he noticed her hands. Fire was surrounding them slowly, a fire that burned so brightly that he had trouble looking at them. This type of magic wasn't uncommon for Jarvan, he had seen mages and wizards alike cast such spells, but that wasn't the alarming part. Her hands were cracked, fire seeping through the cracks and lighting her blue skin with a molten red glow.

"Don't come near my father!" The girl screamed, before making her way through the splintered rocks, towards the corpse of a large beast. At first, Jarvan assumed it was a large costume of sorts, to conceal their identities, but soon he realized how wrong he was. How real the scaled leathery wings were. The ribbed horns coming through the monstrous head of the beast. The blood that was crusted around the beast's neck signified its death. The girl stood protectively in front of the beast, her hands covered with fire. Her lips curved upward into a snarl that revealed two intimidating fangs.

"Your father?" Jarvan asked, looking at the beast. What could it be? He thought. It looked so very familiar, like something from a history book. Taking tentative steps in a semi-circle, to get a better angle of the beast. The girl mirrored his movements, never letting him out of her sight. Sudden realization dawned upon him as he got a clearer look at the head of the beast. A dragon. "Your father is a dragon?" He asked. The girl's response was only a low growl. It made sense then, the blue skin and the fire, she was a half-dragon. A rare species, one that he had only heard legends of, but now was something that was so obviously real in front of him.

"I mean you no harm," Jarvan said gently, bending onto a knee and reaching his hand out towards her. "I can take you somewhere with food and shelter, you will be safe there." The girl shook her head furiously. The fire that wasn't harmful at first, but now enveloped her hair and looked like a brilliant burning aura. It seemed to erupt around her arms and near her hair. Jarvan immediately took a step back and admired the girl in front of him. In that moment she seemed to be the sun, a deadly burning star that had erupted in front him.

"I refuse to leave my father." The girl said, her voice dripping with malice. "I can fend for myself." Suddenly a small ball of fire shot at him. Dodging skillfully, he noticed that the fire that decorated her arms began to consume her hair. The bright red tresses turning into the very flames itself.

"I can help you! Your father's body will be take care of by my men." Jarvan said, his interest in the girl growing. "Please tell me your name. I mean you no harm, I swear on my father, the King of Demacia." Those words seemed to still her flames. Slowly they receded, her hair becoming still again. She straightened her back and raised a flaming red eyebrow at him.

"You are the prince?" Jarvan nodded. The girl took a moment to consider his words, before he saw her eyes still. The raging fire that he had saw in them, returned to sorrow. "You promise my father will be taken care of?"

"I swear it." He said, Jarvan felt that purpose he felt before erupt in his heart as he watched those beautiful amber eyes fill with tears once more. Dropping to her knees again, she wrapped her arms around the dragon's neck. Her tears ran freely then, and he sensed a twinge of sadness in his heart. In a tongue he didn't recognize, she talked to the dragon, her sobs making it difficult to speak. Jarvan made his way over to her, knowing that she wouldn't attack him now, but he still maintained a safe distance. Dropping to one knee, he held out his hand for her again. She glanced over to him, her eyes wet with tears. He gave a gentle smile, hoping to soothe her worries.

"Shyvana." She said weakly. "My name is Shyvana." Shyvana moved her hand hesitantly into his. He helped pull her up from the ground, her tatted clothes seemed to be singed now and unraveling. Quickly he took off his cloak and wrapped it around her gently, before looking up into her eyes once more.

"That's a beautiful name." He said. Shyvana gave a weak smile before her eyes glossed over, and shoulders sagging. Her exhaustion then became visible to him. Her legs began to shake and her movements sluggish as they made their way through the forest. Shyvana was resilient though, refusing his offers to carry her to the horse.

As they walked through the dense foliage, Jarvan spent most of his time trying to recollect what he knew about dragons, and even more so on the legends of half-dragons. From what he could remember, the dragonkind were a proud species, and were exclusive. He remember his father telling him that dragon's kept to themselves, a conceited race they, refused to accept humans as anything as equals. And here was Shyvana, half-dragon and half-human. The result of two species falling in love and accepting each other for who they were.

"Who killed your father?" Jarvan asked, unnerved by the silence that fell between the two. Shyvana, shakily looked up at him. Despite half of her being a cruel reptilian race, she was beautiful. The sunlight hit her hair perfectly, as hues of red, yellow, and orange came alive in the sun rays. Jarvan felt the breath in his throat hitch as he realized that her hair was the solid formation of flames.

"A dragon." Shyvana said, solemnly. "A dragon who hated my father and I."

"Why would a dragon hate you or your father?"

"I'm an abomination." She said without remorse. "I'm not a pure dragon. I'm tainted." Shyvana felt a tinge of sadness inside of her as she knew that she truly alone now. With her father dead, who would be there to help her go on? No dragon would take her in, and she knew that humans feared her. The only thing that kept her flames at bay was her sadness.

"No one in Demacia will treat you as such. I will make sure of it." Jarvan said. Shyvana gave a small smile at this, grateful that the Prince would be so kind to her. She knew that she wouldn't ever be accepted, she was an abomination, and she accepted that now. Shyvana was destined to walk the world alone.

"Thank you," She said sleepily. Shyvana wasn't sure how long they had been walking. Her mind willed her body to continue moving forward, refusing to collapse from weakness. She had been running with her father for the past few hours, having a small encounter with the blue flames that had tried to consume them. The memories of her terrified state slowly came back, and with them the recollection of her father's tragic death came back with her. Trying to hide the tears that began to form, she stumbled slightly on a branch. Instead of meeting hard ground, she was cradled by armor cladded arms. Her small form enveloped into the Prince's grasp.

"Sleep now." Jarvan said quietly, watching as tears fell down her cheeks. A few moments passed before he could feel her completely relax and fall into a deep slumber. The walk back seemed shorter than it had been to get there. He soon was able to hear his horse's neigh and the sound hooves pounding on the ground. Once the white stallion saw Jarvan approach it visibly calmed, until it smelt Shyvana. Dragons were natural predators to every animal in Runeterra, and his horse couldn't shake the fear instilled inside years of evolution. The horse began to panic more so, until Jarvan placed a hand on its nose gently.

"Shh." He hushed lowly, calming the horse. Gently, he shifted Shyvana to be cradled by right arm as he lifted up onto the horse. Settling in, he wrapped an arm around Shyvana's waist, who rested in front of him, and pulled her into his chest. Grasping the reins he turned his horse around and took a slow trot towards the main path.

His thoughts continued to search for the knowledge he knew about half-dragons. They were rare, he knew that, he also knew that many believed them to be a myth or a legend. The idea of a dragon impregnating a human is an outrageous thought that many people had considered a sin or evil. What powers did half-dragons hold? Could they become a dragon? Taking a quick glance down at the girl below him, he couldn't see any prominent horns or wings. Shyvana seemed to be completely human, besides the light blue skin.

He was once again reminded about the cracks in her hand. A fire that seemed to come from inside of her. Jarvan was then reminded of tales he used to hear about dragons. Some believed that their very blood was liquid flame coursing through them, causing them unspeakable rage. Even now as he held Shyvana, he could feel the heat coming off of her, feeling like a raging campfire of sorts. Could she breathe fire? How did her power rival with mages and wizards?

"Prince Jarvan!" He heard someone yell to him through the dense woods. Turning his head, he saw his best friend, Garen, gallop towards him. Garen's brow was furrowed as he approached, noticing the unusual looking girl in his arms. "Who is this?"

"Shyvana." Jarvan said, his grasp on the girl instinctively growing tighter. Would Garen reject the girl?

"Is she dead?" Garen said, coming closer to examine her. Jarvan shook his head, watching Garen warily.

"No, she's a half-dragon." Garen looked up at him, eyes widened.

"How!? Aren't half-dragons a myth?" Jarvan shook his head again, kicking his horse back into action, suddenly feeling anxious to get Shyvana back to the castle. "Wait Jarvan! Tell me more about the girl." Garen said, his horse coming up next to him.

"I don't know much about her, but she's coming with us to the palace. I promised to keep her safe." Jarvan said defensively. He hadn't considered how others would react to Shyvana. His impulse to trust and accept her came so naturally to him, he hadn't even thought of how she might become dangerous. Trying to remove these thoughts from his head, a reassuring voice spoke of how she wouldn't do that. Shyvana meant no ill-will towards him naturally. She was tired and alone, he told himself, she would only become a true ally.

"She looks to be around Luxanna's age." Garen said, appraising the girl. "Maybe Lux can donate some attire to the poor girl." Jarvan nodded as they continued to ride to the castle. "How do you think your father will react to her?"

"She isn't a threat to Demacia, he should be elated to have such an ally to Demacian forces." Jarvan said, confident in his father's trusting abilities. "Did we catch the Noxian scum?" Garen shook his sadly.

"We think it was Talon. He has a power of the shadows that we can't understand." Garen said, "Why couldn't you have found a girl who is half-shadow, so that maybe we can catch those guys?" Garen joked. Jarvan chuckled and looked down at the fiery red head.

"Well if we have someone who light the shadows, those Noxians will have nowhere to hide." Garen observed how Jarvan looked the girl so affectionately. The girl in his arms seemed to be unaware of the conversation they were having. Garen could only wonder what she was capable of.

As the pair made it back to Demacia, the stables awaiting their tired horses, they received many pointed stares. Jarvan tried to shield Shyvana from their stares, but to no avail they continued to look. It was when he was carrying her inside the palace walls that they were stopped.

"Prince Jarvan, Garen, so nice to have you returned to us!" The commander of the guard said. "I see you have found a straggler." He said, looking curiously down at the slumbering Shyvana. The commander was a man in his mid-forties, blonde hair, grand mustache, and was often known to be a bit of a gossiper.

"Thank you Commander, if you need us, we will be in my father's chambers." Jarvan said, reluctant to give any information about Shyvana. The two men walked side by side towards the grand staircase. Maids, pages, and other staff of the palace looked at the girl as well, curious to why she looked so oddly. As they reached the king's chambers, Jarvan tried to wake up Shyvana.

"Shyvana, I need you to wake up." He gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes snapped open. Burning ruby gazed back at him and Jarvan was taken aback. Earlier today their amber hade was mesmerizing, but this was even more alluring. What had caused the change? Shyvana, fully awake now, pushed away from him and jumped towards the ground. Garen was taken aback as well by the boldness of the young girl. In her more awake state, Jarvan noticed how much more confident she was. Her head held high, and spine completely straight, she looked like she fit for royalty. Her fire red hair was shaggier than it had appeared at first. It looked like she had attempted to cut it herself with broken shears or dull scissors.

"Where are we?" Shyvana asked, glancing up at the two.

"We are the Demacian palace, this is where you'll stay." Shyvana looked around, noting the white marble floor and pillars that decorated the lavish hallway that led to the white wooden door with gold handles on them.

"What has happened to my father?" Shyvana asked, returning her attention back to Jarvan.

"We are going to talk about that with my father." Jarvan said. "Don't worry, only the best will come to him." His promise was empty, unknowing how it would be taken care of, but if it had to be dealt with, Jarvan would deal with the dead dragon himself. Turning towards the door, Jarvan pushed it open, not bothering to knock. Inside, his father sat on a dark mahogany chair, reading over what he assumed to be mission reports or reports on what had been going on in the city. He barely glanced up as they entered.

"Jarvan how nice of you to come back unharmed. I hope next time you will do as your told." The King said dismissively. Jarvan continued to stand in his office, hoping that his father would look up and notice the rarity by his desk. "I mean you are almost eighteen, how can I expect you to take over my position as King if you can't follow a simple task." Finally he looked up exasperated, but as he tilted his head up he saw her. The traditional dark blue Lightshield eyes gazing at blinding ruby ones. "Hello young one." His father said affectionately, just as Jarvan had predicted.

"Hello," Shyvana said in return. "My father has been slain at the hand of another dragon. I need you to take care of my father's body as I instruct you to." Her bold words received a hearty laugh from the King. Shyvana's pupils narrowed at this as her eyes squinted. She had been promised the well-taking of her father, and she intended to get what she was promised. Looking up at Jarvan, she noticed his stoic face. Rage filled her again, and she felt the flames consume her once more. At the sight of fire, the king's laughter died down.

"Feisty one isn't she? Are you a mage?" The king asked, observing her brilliant flames.

"I am a half-dragon." Shyvana stated. The King's mouth dropped at that.

"A half-dragon!? You must be confused youngling. Half-dragons are a myth, you must have been simply born with…" His sentence was cut off by the sudden roar of flames. Shyvana leaped toward the king, the desk the only thing separating them, her form changing into something more monstrous.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan called out, but Garen held him back as flames danced on the royal blue carpet beneath them. The pair looked up to see an armored dragon in the place of Shyvana. Red eyes seethed as she starred at the King's frightful eyes. When picturing dragons, Jarvan had always assumed they would be huge creatures that made the ground tremble as they walked, but Shyvana was no more than the length of a long table and the width of the King's desk.

Ruby scales flashed brilliantly under the grand lighting. Her obsidian claws marred the carpet beneath her and her tail swayed back and forth, like a sharp blade. She was glorious in every way. Her light red horns pointed towards the opposite walls. Her leathery wings were strong and looked tough.

"So you are a half-dragon." The King mused aloud. Shyvana didn't break the stare as the King observed her. "I will admit, I've never seen your species before." The king stood up gracefully from his chair and began to walk towards Shyvana. A snarl formed on her lips and Jarvan was reminded of earlier today. The fear settling into her again. His father kneeled down before Shyvana, looking directly into her eyes. "You are safe here child, we will take care of the arrangements for your father." The king said, a smile gracing his lips. "But," A serious tone filled his voice. "In return, you will vow your loyalty to Demacia, and train to be a part of an elite guard."

Shyvana remained silent, not a word nor a growl was emitted from the timid girl. Suddenly her head looked up to Jarvan. In her dragon form, she seemed frightening and monstrous, but Jarvan couldn't help but stare at her flaming eyes. He gave a faint smile for her. Shyvana looked back towards the King, and suddenly flames erupted around her. The King immediately stepped back and only saw the girl on the floor. She had returned to her original state, clothes untorn. Shyvana looked back towards the King and nodded towards his proposal.

"Please take care of my father." She whispered, before turning back to Jarvan. The King, to Jarvan, seemed to be overjoyed at this prospect.

"Jarvan, please escort Shyvana to the Ilia, and have her washed up. The first Demacian half-dragon should look like royalty." Jarvan only nodded and held out his hand for the young girl. The red haired dragon grabbed it and escorted herself out of the room. Shyvana's mind raced at these colliding thoughts. Her service indebted to Demacia? She had never been a part of a faction or alliance. Her father had always told her she was unique, probably the only of her kind that existed in the world.


Sitting in the hot bath, Shyvana recollected what had occurred that day. It was late night by the time the head maid, Ilia, an elderly woman with wiry gray hair pinned into a bun, had forced her out of her tattered clothes and into a bath that smelled of roses. The hot water washed away the dirt and grime that had been collected onto her skin over years of running from an unknown source. In the candlelight of the bathroom, her light blue skin seemed to shine and glimmer. For a moment it didn't look unusual or ugly, but unique as her father had told her.

Her father… Just last night as they had been running, he was still with her. Still alive and loving his only daughter. How Shyvana adored her father. A fierce and noble dragon who had taught her everything she knew. He had never left her side even for a moment, but now, he was gone. Everything she had ever had was taken from her. The thief was a black dragon, his obsidian scales blending in with the night sky. He had come out of nowhere, and the only thing she could do was transform and fly into the trees.

She had assumed her father would be right behind her, but instead he was a crumpled corpse in the clearing of the forest. Shyvana could still feel her heart drop to the floor. The wound of his passing still a slice through her heart, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. Would she ever stop crying over his loss? Could she even move on from her devoted father? The only one that had continued to love her even though she was an abomination in every race. Well at least, she had assumed then that she would be alone and casted away, but here she was, in a bath drawn by the maids of a King and Prince.

The Prince. Sinking into the bath she felt her heart flutter from the memory of him. Jet black hair and beautiful dark blue eyes. At first glance and during her mourning, she remembered how she assumed he was there for her father. To steal his skin or talons, but instead he was just interested in her. Jarvan the Prince was lean, but muscular, he had immaculate cheek and jaw bones. Shyvana had always found humans to be grotesque creatures, always stealing and filled with greed, but the Prince was so much different. He didn't attack her or mean her any harm, but instead held out a hand.

A small smile crept onto her face as she remembered his arms cradling them as they rode from the forest. Would he continue to look at her with such fascination? What did he think when she transformed into a dragon? Did he see her as a monster like most humans did? Or was he fascinated like when she was alit with flame. Oh how she wished to know what he was thinking.

What would her father have thought of Jarvan? Would he see the potential in the human? Shyvana's father had obviously found humans interesting since he had mated with one to create her, but he was a prince. One that ruled over a vast majority of humans, and dictated what was okay, and what should be outlawed. She was one of those things that was okay.

"Miss Shyvana," She heard from behind the door. Turning she looked to see the kind of face of the elderly Ilia. "Are you finish with your bath?" Shyvana nodded, and made her way out of the tub. Ilia brought a white towel to wrap around her torso. Shyvana looked down and grimaced at the contrast of the white towel to her blue skin. Everyone here was white, and had certain features. Shyvana felt too broad, with too many curves, and too tall. Shaking her head, she let go of her silly insecurities. Dragons didn't care about their looks.

"Have you ever had a haircut?" Ilia asked.

"I cut my own hair." Shyvana said. In the mirror, she could see Ilia 'tsk' at the state of her hair. Shyvana knew that her hair was wild and tangled, cut at even angles and sides, the big curls almost seeming too voluptuous.

"Not anymore you don't. As part of the Elite Guard, I will groom you instead, you will look proper." Ilia said, grabbing a pair of shears and she took Shyvana's curls. Shyvana watched as brilliant red tresses fell to the white marble floor.

"If I'm going to be fighting for the Elite Guard, why do I need to look good?" Ilia continued to cut into her mane, leaving no strand untouched.

"You don't want hair all over your face while you're fighting do you?"

"I can pull it back, can't I?"

"You won't have time to pull it back in the middle of battle."

"I like my hair the way it is." Shyvana said, pulling her hair out of the woman's grasp. Ilia sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

"I won't cut it too short, just enough to where it can grow evenly." Shyvana glared at her through the mirror. "And from now on, I'll only trim it a little bit, so it can be even." Shyvana glared more, but released her hair. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to take care of your hair?"

"My mother died during childbirth." Shyvana said, looking down at her clean hands.

"Well then I'll teach you." Ilia said, "I'll teach you about everything there is to know about being a part of the Demacian court."

"What do I need to know?" Shyvana asked, her curiosity peaking. "Don't I just need to fight?"

"Well there's being polite, eating correctly, knowing how to be courteous, delegations, and all other prevalent actions." Ilia looked down at the confused girl and gave a small smile. "You wouldn't want to embarrass the Prince now, would you?" Shyvana shook her head furiously. She owed him her life, she realized, without him she would probably be wandering the forest alone, cold and depressed. Ilia stopped cutting her hair suddenly, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Ilia?" Shyvana asked, turning to look at her.

"Don't fall in love with the Prince my dear." The elderly woman said, her clouded irises serious. "He is coming of age in a few years, and young and charming ladies he will be wedded away too, so that Demacia will have a King and Queen." Shyvana was surprised by these words. She had learned from her father about how government works, Kings and Queens, Prince and Princesses, she knew the arrangement. It had slipped her mind that the same would apply to Jarvan. Cursing her own stupidity she turned around in the chair.

"Half-dragons aren't meant to be loved Ilia." Shyvana said, bitterness in her voice. Ilia looked sadly down at Shyvana, remorse at crushing any hope the young girl had for Jarvan. "I suppose I will just serve in his guard." Shyvana said, determination in her voice.

At that moment, she decided to protect Jarvan at all costs. To repay the debt for saving her life, and also for herself, to be his savior. Shyvana also vowed to seek vengeance on the dragon that slayed her father. Shyvana refused to go into history being known as the first Demacian half-dragon. She would be known as Shyvana, the Half-Dragon. Proud to show how unique she truly was, and how she would show Runeterra who they should fear.


A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Fav, follow, review, the whole jazz! Feel free to ask any questions, I'm hoping to hear some feedback for this story!