My first LoL fanfiction. I've got to admit, Shyvana is my favourite champion, and Jarvan/Shyvana is my favourite pairing. But first we'll have a bit of insight on Shyvana's past before we proceed on the romance. Nothing was mentioned about her mother, so I thought: Why not? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story. Warning: Contains profanity and dark themes.

By the way, this story focuses on what happens before and during her lore. Perhaps after, as well.

Disclaimer: All characters of League of Legends belong to Riot Games.

Chapter 1: Rage

"Run, young one. Run to your father. He's the only one who can protect you. Go, go now," she hushed her daughter, pushing a sack of clothes and food into her tiny arms. Outside their house she could hear noises. Angry noises, shouts and high-pitched cries. Angry yells and screams of words she could not catch, except for a shrill cry of "Freak!" and "Monster!"

She looked up to her mother, expecting her to come with her when she turned her back. When she did not, she looked at her mother again. Her mother, a petite Demacian farm-girl with bright red hair like hers, looked frantically out of the window before pulling the curtains together.

Her mother frowned when Shyvana still stood there staring at her with her bright golden eyes. "What are you waiting for? Your father is waiting for you. Out. Off you go,"

"But mother, what about you?"

"It doesn't matter. Listen to me, Shyvana. You have to leave," she took a quick peek through the curtains before glaring at her.

"But mother-"

"Did you not understand me? Gods, stop being so stubborn, sweet child," she sighed and gently pushed Shyvana to the back door, which would lead her through the woods where Shyvana's father, her beloved would be waiting.

"You're not coming with us?" she asked, her eyes full of innocence. "Why are the people outside so angry?"

The farm-girl stood still and tried to think of an answer that wouldn't scare her. The village wanted her head for betraying humankind and carrying the child of a dragon. they would not stop until she was dead. She knew they wouldn't dare harm Shyvana as long as her father was still alive. He would love her and protect her like he did with her.

She wanted to go with the Celestial dragon. She wanted to live out her life watching their daughter grow. But she knew that if she went with them, the village would pledge the Lightshields, the Royals of Demacia to slay the dragon, just so they could get rid of her, a traitor who gave birth to an abomination.

She had to die. She knew it.

She looked into her daughter's bright amber eyes, just like her father's. If she had to die, she would not want her child to live through her childhood missing a mother. She closed her eyes and fought back tears, mustering malice and menace in her voice.

"It's because I don't want you anymore," she said. Those words were poisonous, and instantaneously found its mark. She watched as Shyvana's eyes widened with shock, and tears immediately welled up in them. At that moment, she hated herself for having to do this to her.

"I don't want to live my life caring for a half-dragon. I want a child who is purely human, who does not have blue-grey scaly skin or golden eyes. I loved your father, but a normal child is something he couldn't give me, and I want that more than I want him," she continued. Shyvana was now sobbing, tears falling freely down her cheeks. Her heart shattered at the sight of her daughter in that state. All she wanted was to take her in her arms and apologize for her cruel words.

Cruel words, yet necessary.

However, her daughter was relentless. "But mother you once said-"

"I don't care what I once said!" she shouted. "Get out. Or I'll make you,"

Shyvana held the sack tightly to her chest, her nose and eyes red as she wailed freely. Her cries reverberated throughout the house. She took a step backwards reluctantly, refusing to believe what her mother said. Until her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and waved it angrily at her, pushing her towards the door.

"Get out!" she swiftly opened the back door, and roughly shoved Shyvana out of the house.

Shyvana fell on her rear, still clutching the sack and crying for her mother. She hastily climbed to her feet and was about to run back into her house when she slammed the door shut, locking it so Shyvana had no choice but to go to her father.

She leaned her back to the door, heaving slightly as Shyvana knocked on the door vigorously, begging for her mother to open up and give her another chance. Her cries only grew louder, making her heart clench with guilt. She let her tears fall freely this time, wishing that her daughter would understand and forgive her.

How would she understand? I wouldn't blame her if she hates me. She's only five, she does not deserve this.

She listened as the knocks continued, then suddenly, silence.

She was worried and frightened that maybe the villagers had got her. If that was the case they would kill her without hesitation. She pulled back the curtain and looked out of the window, relief and remorse both crashing down on her when she was greeted with the sight of Shyvana's back towards her house, her home, running towards the forest to meet her father. She watched as her beloved daughter became smaller and smaller, until she disappeared into the clearing. Not once did Shyvana look back.

Her hand clasped over her mouth as she sobbed freely. It was too late for regrets now, but she knew her beloved would protect her daughter and raise her right, her beautiful daughter even if she is only half-human.

The voices of the angry mob grew louder and louder, but it was the rough and violent knock on her front door that startled her. She looked for a place to hide, and before she could, the front door caved in, revealing a few men with pitchforks and burning torches. One of them held a sledgehammer which had brought down the door.

"Traitor!"

"Whore!"

"Dragon's wench!"

"Seize her!"

She could only scream as the mob poured into her house, pushing things aside and shattering objects. A few men and women seized her and pulled her out of her house. She held onto a couch for dear life, her nails carving lines onto the couch. She screamed and cried for mercy, but the mob was too loud to hear her pleas.

Soon, they were dragging her out of her house to the centre of the village. Her dress was muddied and torn, scabs and bruises visible on her arms and legs. Along the way, villagers threw stones and rotten eggs at her, yelling obscenities and throwing insults in her way. Tears streamed down her face, begging them to stop hurting her and be done with it. The men then shoved her roughly to her knees, and when she looked up to see her manner of execution, her heart sank with panic and fear.

All the villagers, even the children had gathered around the square to watch the traitor executed. In the middle of the square where the mob had surrounded was a huge wooden stake, around it were piles of hay and twigs and branches. Two men dragged her towards the stake by her arms, pulling her wrists behind her and binding her to the stake with a rope. The rope was rough and bit into her skin, drawing blood.

Being burnt alive was a horrible way to die. Her death would be painful and slow.

She shuddered in fear as one of the men strode forward with a burning torch in hand, lowering it to the pile of hay and setting it on fire. She could not even find the energy to scream, to yell at the villagers to stop. Soon, the temperature escalated rapidly, the heat surrounding her as orange flames licked away, devouring everything in its path. Sweat beaded on her forehead and soon the heat became unbearable. Smoke clouded her vision, and the roaring flames drowned out the angry sounds of the mob.

She tried to think of something that would not remind her of her current predicament, something that would distract her from her imminent death. Her mind came upon a memory when she met her lover, a Celestial dragon licking his wounds beside a river. She looked after him with great care, feeling sorry for the wounded dragon. And the sympathy in her heart soon blossomed into love. She loved it when he would morph into his human form and whisper endearments into her ear. She loved it when he would embrace her with his huge leathery wings in his dragon form, giving her heat during one of those cold wintry nights. She loved it when he had transformed into a dragon to scare off a few bandits who had tried to harm her on the outskirts of the village, which had caused the angry mob that was burning her alive right now.

And she loved it the most when he had given her a daughter. A beautiful daughter with her hair and his eyes, even if it meant they had to cover her in rags and hood just to hid her draconian features. Shyvana was special in every way, and she loved it.

Her mind stayed on one memory where the three of them were laughing at a dinner table. It was Shyvana's third birthday, and her father had hunted a deer because Shyvana loved venison. She remembered laughing at him when he had accidentally burnt the meat since he insisted he wanted to cook for his daughter. She remembered the gleeful laughter that poured out of the young girl's mouth as her father tossed her high into the air, a joyful gleam in his eyes.

The flames were now licking her skin, melting her flesh. Despite the immense pain she felt, she smiled at the memory.

Her only regret was that her daughter would never understand why she had to utter those words. She only hoped that her lover would instead.

The dragon was now in his human form, clutching his daughter's small form as she sobbed freely into his shoulder. He stood under a huge tree on a small hill that looked over the distant village. Though far away, he noticed a bright mote of flame in the centre of the village that flickered about, smoke rising in the air and surrounded by hundreds of people. He sighed sadly as he figured out what had happened.

He wanted to turn into a dragon and burn down the entire village. He wanted the whole village to hear his grief. He wanted to cause them pain, just as they had cause hers.

But if he did that, people would be sent after him to slay him. Even if they had killed him and left his daughter alone, she would be alone, no one to care for her. She would eventually starve to death.

When Shyvana came running to him with a tear-streaked face, he was worried. When she told him her mother's cruel words, he only closed his eyes with sadness and wrapped his arms around his young daughter. He mulled over what his daughter told him, and grimaced as he realization dawned on him. But she was far too young to understand.

He understood the reason behind his loved one's words. But if he divulged it to Shyvana, she would only cry even more and refuse to leave without her mother. Her hatred for humankind would grow and fester, and she would vow vengeance on the villagers. That was the last thing her mother ever wanted. Both of them wanted to teach Shyvana how to love, just so she wouldn't mirror the selfishness and bitter rage of both dragon-kin and humankind.

Instead, he kept quiet and embraced her, watching as sobs wracked her small form.

Silently, he mourned for the death of the Demacian farm-girl. He knew she would always be alive as long as he remembered her and the moments they had together. He would remember her vibrant red hair and her laughing blue eyes, and her soft hands when she had tended to his wounds when he was being hunted by the humans.

The old dragon made a promise to her. As long as he was still alive, no harm would come to his sweet daughter. He would raise her and teach her the ways of both dragon-kin and humankind. He would teach her how to survive, how to fight and how to love.

Most importantly he would teach her how to protect the ones dearest to her, just so she wouldn't fail to protect her loved ones like he did.

He turned his back on the village with Shyvana still shivering in his arms, and walked further into the forest.

And there goes the first chapter. I hope you liked it.

Reviews are very much appreciated. I will update as soon as I can.