Prologue
"You always did look better in finery."
Swain turned around, the pieces of his armor clashing against each other. He furrowed his eyebrows for a second, just enough time to register the voice. A small sigh escape his lips as he loosened the grip on his cane. He had ordered everyone to refrain from disturbing him until the time of the coronation. All would obey, from the servants who helped him put on the ceremonial garb, to the Hand of Noxus. Except her. She never did, and never will.
LeBlanc approached him, her usual elaborate headdress in place, and the magical staff resting in the crook of her arm. Yet instead of the gold-trimmed robe, she sported a sweeping purple dress layered with black feathers.
"Strange, but so fitting." She turned her head to the side. "But I suppose it would be rather impractical to wear during combat. You would hardly be able to move." She pointed towards the gold plating and the trimmings. "And stick out too much. Your usual green drab works much better."
Swain smirked at the assessment. As if I had a choice in the matter. "I assume you expect me to pay you the same compliments about your choice of attire?"
"Pfft." LeBlanc snorted. "Just a change for the celebratory occasion. Besides, I hardly get seen out in public. Might as well make a statement when I do." She walked to the side, pulling over a nearby chair. Having plopped down onto the velvet cushions, she looked towards Swain again. "At least Beatrice seems to approve." She gave a nod to the raven on Swain's shoulder, who had stayed silent throughout the exchange.
"I take it you have business to discuss, Matron?" Swain changed the subject. Normally he would enjoy the banter, the two circling each other with flattery and subtle implications, and sometimes dropping hints of truth, to see if more information could be garnered than the other was willing to give. But today was not the day for that. Besides, her carefree attitude unnerved him a bit. The difference was only slight compared to her usual eccentric self, but when it came to her, any subtle difference had to be noted.
"Not particularly." LeBlanc grabbed a teacup from a tray in front and poured the contents of the teapot next to it. She took a sip and then crinkled her nose in disgust. "Ugh. Rose tea." Pushing the cup away to the farthest corner of the tray, she instead picked at the pastries.
"Well Matron, if I had known you were coming to visit, I would have provided something more to your tastes."
LeBlanc looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Really Jericho, did you really not expect to see me today?"
"I…I suppose not." Swain sighed. Of course, who am I trying to fool.
Grinning, LeBlanc stood from the chair, and slowly took a step towards Swain. She raised her right hand to Beatrice, feeding the raven a biscuit. Beatrice flew to the side, giving the two space.
LeBlanc slid her hand over the tip of Swain's shoulder, grin still on her face. "So how does it feel? To have Noxus in your hands?" She turned, facing Swain from behind. "Having seen Him take his last breath?"
Swain smiled as the thought speed through his mind. "It was glorious! All the years spent on getting our revenge…to see the last look on his face. The only regret I have is not making the end even more painful…" Swain composed himself, having relived the memory. "You must know. After all, you were there too."
"Indeed." LeBlanc inched closer, the ends of her ebony hair about to tease Swain's back. "But what to do," she leaned in, "since now it seems you're done."
"I'm far from done." Swain turned his head towards LeBlanc. Done? Hardly. I've just started. "I'll kill Jarvan IV, trample Demacia and its hypocritical beliefs and standards, and establish Noxus's reign over what should be ours by right."
"And?"
"Continue our conquest over Runeterra. Finally take over Ionia and any other area that would benefit Noxus."
"And?"
"Solidify Noxus as the most powerful city-state…" Swain stopped, cut short by the laughter from behind.
"Indeed Swain, you are done." LeBlanc continued laughing, until her lips hovered right next to his ear, close enough to slip a whisper. "Just wanted to make sure."
The two stayed still, as the silence sunk into the room. Swain resisted the urge to turn around and look her in the eye. An unfamiliar feeling welled up, threatening to rise out of his throat. Fear? Confusion? Guilt? Loss? Whatever it was, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of finding out. It's too late for that.
"Well it's time, we best get going." LeBlanc suddenly walked forward, heading towards the door leading to the hallway. "Being late to your own coronation is…"
"Evaine."
LeBlanc stopped. A moment passed before she spoke again, this time devoid of the sing-song tone.
"Dear Grand General, it is bad luck to utter the name of the dead on such a day."
Then without sparing a glance, she exited out the door. Swain took a moment to observe the moving form, memories spinning inside his head. He had expected some form of satisfaction, having caught her off guard, even for a slight moment. Yet empty. He just felt empty. Evaine, you are…
A weight on his shoulder woke him from his musings. Beatrice stared at him, having just perched itself on his shoulder again, prodding him to go on. Giving the raven a nod, Swain headed forward, following the Matron of the Black Rose out into the hallway.
Perhaps in another time…
A/N: Hi everyone, welcome to my first League of Legends fanfiction.
-This is a character background/development story about LeBlanc. There will be two storylines, one each for Evaine and Emilia, until the two converge to become LeBlanc in the league's timeline. Hence, the majority of the story will take place pre-league.
-A lot of the previous lore have become non-cannon (summoners, champion allegiance, etc.). I tried to stick as close to what was out there (league judgments, JOJ, etc.), but since much of it has been scrapped, I'll also be taking some liberties in interpretation. And if the reworked lore comes out and the background stories become completely different, I'll still try to continue the story.
-I know the secondary category is marked "Romance," but in reality there won't be much of it, at least not in a straightforward way. The relationships between the characters/champions, whether it be friendship, romance, or utter hatred, are rather...complicated. But there will be certain implications, hence the tag. I'll change the tag in the future if it no longer applies.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated :)