A Traitor to My Own Heart

I awoke to a chilling wind piercing my skin. The bedcovers were gone. Granted, they weren't my bedcovers. But it was especially cold that morning and, of some more pressing importance, the woman in bed with me since the night before was absent in company, having made off with what were rightfully her bedcovers. I sat up on the bed and found the thick cotton blanket trailing off of the foot-end and onto the floor. The carpet under my feet reminded me that we're in her manor too. It's a big place, with a whole staff of retainers, and I felt a bit more shameful of sneaking in. But concurrently it was so romantic. My fencing teacher and lover had her qualms about the whole affair as well. But as I let her know, we had already overcome a castle of burdens in our three years together as mentor and disciple. Besides, we planned this elope since...yesterday afternoon. My undergarments were a little hard to locate, but readily I donned them and headed outside.

There's a wide balcony overlooking her modest garden and Demacia's city sprawl beyond. I came out into the welcoming air. The sun had just risen and the sky was that gentle purple which really starts a good day. A bundle of silky white sheets rested on a wrought iron bench. Out the top of this bundle was my mentor's head of short black hair, impeccably resilient and honed. The red and purple gradient portrayed her boundless conviction. I can't describe how, but it takes a bit of that to make her highlight color work. I have it cut short to shoulder length because of military regulation. I like it that way. The Demacian border guard stays with you your whole life.

So, totally removed of her aristocratic grace, Fiora made off with the bedcovers and wrapped herself in a dumpling as I slept. As adorable as the sight was, it troubled me a little to wake up after my first sexual experience and question if it was all just a dream. The relief in finding it real was breathtaking.

"Country folk like me have these fantastic images of the city before they visit it properly." I said, approaching the opposite side of the bench. "It turned out to be so much more grand up close. Falling for you was like that."

Fiora continued to stare out at the morning sun. "You're still here." she muttered with a soft breath. I sat next to her and rested my chin on her sheets. Our cheeks nearly touched then, but Fiora withdrew just ever so slightly. "Will you not be discovered?"

"I can manage." I reassured her, closing the distance between us gingerly. "As long as we can get every moment out of this morning, I'll be fine." The cold was getting to me. I nearly forgot it was late Autumn though. A sensual encounter with the person you loved since adolescence can do things to your perception of time. "You stole the blankets." I moaned playfully. "I nearly froze to death."

"I am sorry." Fiora said in a thoughtful monotone. "I...I had to focus myself."

"You want me to sneak something from the icebox downstairs?"

"This is important." Fiora said, reading the city outside as if it were a foreign piece of arithmetic, and that the answer should be very simple but out of reach. She turned to me and I finally got a good look at her eyes. Their trademark guile and confidence were dampened by tears she held back with heavy blinking. She smiled with profound subtlety. "Finding you...was the best thing to happen in my life. But I worked so hard to restore my family's honor. What will everyone think now that my lover is a woman? We could be cast out. We have so much to lose. Our livelihoods...our friends...my family...and...you ought to know why I have left you in the cold. But first..."

She reached around and embraced me with her blanketed arms, engulfing my body, pulling me back into her own little bundle of the world. It was reassuringly warm. Fiora wouldn't talk so grimly if there wasn't a way for her to come out on top. So I made no effort to silence her after a short fit of kissing, giggling and feeling each other's skin. It seems that my low class upbringing rubbed off on her. Moments like these are a nice break from cordiality. I listened intently as Fiora's eternal student.

"We could lose everything." she said with a twinge of melancholy. Gradually her eyes regained the confidence and aloofness which drew me to her in the first place. Her lips drew close to mine and she whispered to me her ultimatum. "I say bring it on." My elation was sort of smothered by her short and powerful kiss.

It brought to mind a funny incident from last night. Fiora made a lewd comment on how the act of kissing had parallels in fencing. The humor in it and the fact that it was so out of her character made me burst out laughing in her bed, and a nearby maid heard me and asked Fiora through the door if she was alright. She blamed the noise on having a little too much wine. She doesn't drink.

Taking charge for a brief moment, I withdrew to tighten our embrace so that our chests weighed on one another and our heads rested side by side on our shoulders. I could feel Fiora's voice through her throat. "My honor as a fencer and yours as a soldier is only heightened. We fought within ourselves to the point of near fatality to reach this point. Here, where we can show our love freely instead of holding it back to destroy us from the inside out. You remember those days, yes?"

My eyes began to ache again. "Let's not dwell on it."

"So what will be will be. I have a plan. We'll go over it later."

After a period of silence, we decided that it would be in our best interests to get dressed sometime before the manor staff got suspicious. As I worked on the collar of my red cloth tabard, I noticed that the sun began to creep into the room. Fiora just finished putting on her ceremonial breastplate. Yes, most of the clothing she wears can be called 'ceremonial'. But she's gone all the way with her ceremonial getup, the costume for her League appearances. She wants to impress someone. I asked her who. Fiora replied with some weightiness.

"Just as I conquered my father and took the House of Laurent, I triumphed over my old conflicted self. A traitor to my own heart. We're going to meet a lot of people who won't think highly of our sort of pair. So we must face them down together. And we'll strike down whatever seeks to separate us."

"Sounds like a plan." I said. "Last night, though. What kind of plan did you have in mind? You never went over why..."

"Your scarf is uneven, let me help you."

Caught off guard, I bumbled in protest. We both knew that I can tie a darned neckerchief with my eyes closed. Still, Fiora walked over and laid her hands on my collar. She tightened my scarf to the point of suffocation, wearing that look of intense concentration like she has while staring down an opponent. Together we are almost exactly the same height. It makes getting lost in her eyes that much easier. I made a quick chuckle with some difficulty.

Fiora's left hand slowly traced down my shoulder as her right arm retreated. Her touch was hesitant at first, different than her rough handling on my neck. "I was preparing...myself..." she trailed softly. My wrist was grasped by her fingers, dexterous fingers that could maneuver a rapier like an artist moves a brush. I spotted a glimmer, a tiny facet of light somewhere near her right hand. Gold? Glass? She raised my arm to her waist and drew it close. "...to give you this."

Then I felt the sensation of a ring being slipped onto my finger.