A/N: Hi guys! So I've wanted to write a Kayle/Morg fic for a long time now but I just couldn't get an idea on the plot. I personally find the characters to be OOC near the end, but mainly because of the situation they're in. They'll be back to their normal selves in the next chapter!

Important note: This fic will contain yuri & eventual incest. You've been warned!

It was once again that time of year. Alone in her quarters, she wondered if it would happen again. It had been happening four years in a row after all. But this time she would catch the person red-handed. Have them explain their actions. Who could it have been? She had no idea. And thus, she waited. Waited for the bell to ring. She waited. Waited. Nothing happened. It was an hour before midnight now. Maybe the person gave up. Maybe it was just a joke and they got tired. Or maybe they would come the next day at night. She couldn't remember anymore. She didn't particularly care, but it irked at her that she couldn't find the culprit. They weren't really a culprit though were they? She shook her head and decided she needed some air. Grabbing her helmet from the table next to the door, she strode forward, leaving her room. Once at the roof of the castle-like building, she put on her golden helmet, spread her wings wide and kicked herself off the ground.

She couldn't really understand who the one behind all of this was. She hadn't told anyone what today was. Only one person knew and Kayle's face contorted in disgust thinking that that person would be the one to do such a thing, five years in a row. She never felt sick after receiving the anonymous present, as such she felt more than knew that it couldn't have been her younger sister. Flying above Summoner's Rift, she ironically encountered said sister. She stopped in midair, her wings flapping. The Judicator decided to look down at the current fight. This was one night she had off on her moderating and investigating duties to which she was grateful. Wasn't that Caitlyn girl an officer? She could be investigating too. But alas, Kayle needed peace, and peace she would have, if not in her home world, then on the fields of justice.

The battlefield was a mess. All ten champions were on a single lane, each side trying to push to the other's nexus. Unfortunately for Morgana and her team who were low on health, they didn't stand a chance against Ezreal's Trueshot Barrage. The younger sister was sent back to spawn. But it was strange. Something about her loss bothered the older sister. She wasn't sure exactly what it was. Could it have been that she hated the fact that someone else killed her? Possibly. After all, she was the one who was supposed to kill Morgana over and over again.

The fight finally ended with Morgana's team losing. As Kayle decided it was time to head back, she overheard a conversation going on between the losing team who was hanging around their nexus.

"Well, next time, we're not taking Pantheon with us," the younger sister let out as she began to tie her hair in a pony tail.

"Hey Morgie, want to go to the pub now that we're done?" The gauntlet woman, what was her name again? Vee? Vi? Put her arm around the Fallen Angel's shoulders and brought her closer.

"I could join you later, but I have to go bake for a little bit," Morgana looked away only for her eyes to be caught by Pantheon . 'Crap...'

"MORGANA! My sweet! Did I hear you correctly? Bake? May I join you in your endeavors? I will offer you the best of help possible!" He walked briskly and stood in front of her.

Shaking her head, she pushed Vi's shoulder away gently as she made her way out of the Rift.

"Morgana, please wait!" Pantheon ran to catch up to her. "So-"

"I should've had Soraka silence you before leaving."

"But her silence doesn't make us mute! It just sto-"

"Please. Please just shut up. I have a deadline to get to. If you want to help, fine. But for the love of all that hates sound, please, shut up."

And so, they silently made their way to her house. Yes, Morgana had a house. Even Kayle didn't understand why she'd even need a house. She was however eternally grateful that Morgana was going the opposite way of where the Judicator lived. Turning, she flapped her wings a bit stronger and made her way back to her quarters. Once inside, she cussed silently. For some odd reason, a vast amount of exhaustion had taken over her. She slumped onto her bed, in her armor and helmet, face first, took a deep sigh and slowly drifted off to an uncomfortable sleep.

She wasn't aware of the time when she opened her eyes to the sound of the doorbell ringing. It rang twice. It took her a while to get up as her entire body felt heavy. She hadn't even been drinking or fighting! It was this day. She hated this day. It brought back too many memories she'd prefer being without. Once at the door, thankful that no one could see the mess she was probably in, due to her armor, she turned the doorknob and opened. All that lay in front of her was a white box and on it a very small letter. She looked around the hallway, but it was completely empty. There wasn't another soul around. Sighing, she took the box and went back inside. She removed her helmet and began slowly taking off the letter, which was an addition that wasn't around the last 4 times.

In it were a few neatly written sentences that didn't make much sense to the Judicator, "This is the fifth time I'm doing this. I don't really know what keeps prompting me to give you the same thing every year or how I even started to, but I enjoy it nonetheless. You may not care. You may not even eat it. But I hope it makes you happy, even if a little bit. - Me."

Shaking her head, the confused woman opened the box. In it lay, as predicted, a cake. Five years and every year she would receive a different cake. Last year it was a soft fudge filled chocolate cake. This year it was white with swirls of red on top. From the way it looked, she concluded that it was a cheesecake. Kayle didn't have friends in the League. Champions wanted to get close to her but she would usually push them away, not needing camaraderie. She only had two goals anyways. Find out what happened to Ashram and kill Morgana. So needless to say, for four years, she ate the cake alone. Of course she'd made sure there was no poison or weird ingredients in it before indulging.

Looking at the cake in the box, she couldn't help but sit down in front of it and reminisce of the past. A past where all was good, all was peaceful. A past where her younger sister still had proper wings, proper hair, proper ears, proper skin. A past where her younger sister was still alive. A past where her younger sister was not replaced by the witch, the fallen angel, the disgrace of her family. The Judicator shook her head. There was no point in remembering the past. That's just what it was. And yet, every year, on two differing days, her shield would begin to crumble. It aggravated her. That type of weakness was unforgiveable. She no longer had a sister! She had no reason to think of her. Of her long, light blonde hair, of her smaller but softer wings, of her innocent laugh. Of those eyes that looked at her older sister with such awe, fascination, respect, love. Of the way she would fall when first learning to fly and Kayle would catch her. Of the way Kayle would wrap her wings around the slender body, keeping her safe at night. Of the way-

"ENOUGH!"

Yelling helped. She rarely yelled lately, but yelling at herself helped. How old had she turned today? Ten thousand twenty? She couldn't believe she was still keeping track. The number was probably wrong anyways. What had surprised her even more however was that she had never once complained about being tired of living. She had her own duties, and until they were accomplished, she would never be tired of living.

Taking off her armor, all that remained was a thin, red, long sleeved layer covering until the mid of her thighs and red leggings. Grabbing a fork from one of the very few cupboards around her quarters she gave the cake a little taste. So moist, so smooth, so delicious. A ting of raspberry mixed with the delightfulness of white chocolate. Kayle was never one for sweets, but she had to admit when one was particularly delicious. This was the best yet of the anonymous gifter.

As she nibbled on piece after piece, savouring every single inch, her mind went back to the person who made these cakes for her. It was strange. She was sure only Morgana knew of when she was born, if she hadn't forgotten it. Did it even matter? Ten thousand years, calendars changed, dates changed, the world changed. Why would her birthday matter? But someone cared. They cared enough to give her something. It wasn't Morgana. It couldn't have been her. So who else would do something like this? Pantheon maybe. He did try flirting with Kayle on more than one occasion when drunk, but the latter had a feeling that the Artisan of War had no idea how to bake.

Taking in a big sigh, she looked at the Victorian clock next to the door. Almost three in the morning. She knew the chances of being summoned to the fields would be very slim, as such, she decided to be a little sinful. It was the day of her birth after all. She got up, decided to wear something entirely casual and not at all like something the Judicator of all people would wear. Rummaging through her clothes, she found a pair of black slacks and a simple red shirt. Folding her wings to her back and wearing a pair of long, black boots, she made her way to the Champion's Pub.

It was your typical pub, not that Kayle was used to going to any. She only did so ever so rarely. Of course, in her world there wasn't the abomination known as hard liquor or beer. All there was, was elegant wine. As she opened the doors, she made quick note of her surroundings. The bar tended to have a different theme every other night, but tonight it had reverted to its regular self. There was a large counter in front of the bar that could seat around twelve people. All around the place were tables and chairs and Kayle assumed that roughly a hundred people could possibly fit in at once.

Sitting at the bar, she noticed the three figures she had seen a few hours prior. She took a seat three chairs away from Pantheon, on the left and ordered five shots of Valoran Vodka.

"And, and you know?! *hic* It's, it's her birthday today! Today! She's going to be *hic* going to be...uh...ten thousand...twenty five! *hic*," a drunk Morgana was speaking in slurs and through hiccups. The topic of the conversation peaked Kayle's interest who took the first shot and mercilessly swallowed it. Her throat burned at the contact, having her breath out a deep sigh.

"I can't even fathom what I would do for over ten thousand years. BAKE! THAT'S WHAT I WOULD DO! I WOULD FINALLY BAKE!"

"Shut it, Pantheon. We're trying to drown our sorrows away," Vi let out, taking another gulp of her beer.

"Well, *hic* what she did was, what she did was, she would kill. She'd kill *hic* and kill *hic* and kill *hic*. Sort of like a serial killer! Except she killed because of supposed justice! Peace! She was the Judicator! *hic* She, she, she, was the one who upheld the law. That tyrannical law. And all I wanted was to free our people! Free them! Show Kayle she was wrong! *hic* But instead? Instead? She disowns me! "You're not my sister anymore, Morgana! You aren't family anymore! Blablabla!" *hic* How could she?! After all we'd been through together! Stupid Kayle! Stupid, stupid, stupid! I hate youuuuuuu!"

"There, there Morgie," Vi put her arm around the drunk, crying woman, bringing her closer. Morgana took a swallow of her drink as she looked sleepily at Vi. "You know Vi...*hic* I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. I've dealt with dark magic, magic that goes against my people. I've killed, mutilated, sacrificed, ritualised. But you know what? I may not be too proud of it*hic* but, but I don't regret them. I did what I had to do you know? *hic* So, so, I can't really *hic* I can't really blame Kayle. But, but *hic* she's so cold! So, so mean. How could you do that to your little sister? The same sister you said you loved, you said loved me the night before you disowned me! *hic*"

*Cling*

Pantheon looked to his left, his eyes wide open. Kayle was sitting there, having just slammed her glass on the counter. Ten shot glasses lay in front of her, empty. Given they didn't have hard liquor on their home world and that she wasn't much of a drinker herself, it got to her fast. She looked to the drinking trio, eyes narrow.

"MORGANA!" The older woman stood up quickly, catching her head in dizziness as the stool she was sitting on fell to the wooden floor.

The younger woman had completely leaned into Vi, feeling the officer's chest move with every breath.

"Hey Vi, someone is calling me. But I can't seeeeeee *hic* Who is it?"

Before Vi could reply, Morgana was pulled away from her and held bridal style by the Judicator who made her way out of the pub in a very wobbly manner. The drunk angel flapped her wings once outside and shakily made her way to the fallen angel's house. Was she using her head? Not in the least bit. She wasn't thinking at all. She was just acting.

"Mmm, Kayle, miss you," the younger sister mumbled in the sky as she held onto the older sibling's red shirt.

Once at Morgana's domain, Kayle kicked the door to her house open and walked to the girl's room. Thankfully for her, the door closed behind her. Once in her room, she threw the owner onto the bed.

"You are drunk! Go to bed!" She was exaggerating her words and it seemed more like a song than a command. Unfortunately for her, her younger sister didn't want to go to bed alone. As she sloppily began taking her clothes off, she looked towards Kayle, her eyes narrow, letting out quiet hiccups, "Clothes! Clothes! Take them off!"

Kayle had no idea what was going on. Both of them were acting a bit too out of character. She was too inhibited to care however. It was her birthday after all! Taking off her clothes, she made her way onto the bed, under the covers with her younger sister.

"Kayle," the purple haired woman whispered as she got closer to the blonde and wrapped her arms around her waist.

'I see...This is a dream isn't it? A dream where my sister is still alive. A dream where the witch hasn't taken her over.'

The Judicator flapped her wings and gently brought them down, wrapping them around the younger body. In her arms lay the young, blonde haired little sister whom Kayle always protected, looked after, loved...lusted for.

But this was all a dream. This was the only place she could let herself go. Go back to a forbidden past. A past where all was well again. A past where she still had her little sister. She was too drunk and too tired to think anymore. As the younger angel held onto her more tightly, resting her head on her chest, the older sister, resting on hand on the small of Morgana's back and the other on her head, drifted off into a long wanted, peaceful sleep.

Deep down however, she knew. She knew full well that this wasn't a dream. The Judicator unfortunately, was too exhausted to care about anything. She would deal with her actions in the morning. She would deal with Morgana...In the morning.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome.