A/N: This is the first of quite a few stories involving one of the favorite pairings, Shvyana and Jarvan. I hope to get a bit of feedback on it so feel free to leave reviews and comments!

No one told her it would ever be this hard. That the very thought of someone who was beyond your touch could bring you so much sadness. That the pain she felt day in and day out would be enough to break her down into such a vulnerable being. No one said that a dragon would live forever until their life was to be ended by unnatural means. They didn't die of age. To kill a dragon meant for it to become ill or defeated in combat.

But none dared touch the sacred dragon that was Shyvana.

Years had passed since the passing of the man who gave her life meaning past her own family. She had defended the prince with tooth and claw in the Second War of Noxus-Demacia however, not of it had been enough. Soon the young man became food for the raven's of the Noxian High Commander; Jericho Swain. Even now she could hear those very screams of his as the birds tore at his flesh.

Her rage had become far too powerful for her to tame. The dragon- in a fit of anger- flew to Swaine and showed him the same fate that became of her beloved Jarvan. Not even Noxian's butcher; Darius, could save Swain. Shyvana ensured that there was no life for Swain after such a brutal murder of the man she loved. Her beastly roars were the sounds that carried Swain to the Hells that awaited him in the afterlife.

Shyvana would never forgive Noxus for such a terrible homicide. She would carry that hatred to end of her days. Even as power shifted from the late Swain to Darius in Noxus, Shyvana treated him as if they were the same person. She devoted herself to King Jarvan the Third as his strongest warrior in the Demacian army and she refused to be set aside with the death of her beloved.

The dragon, however, was not the only one who mourned the loss of the Demacian Prince. Xin Zhao was his ever so faithful right-hand man who followed directly behind Jarvan in battle. The prince became his guiding light after he had escaped Noxus' arena and two were practically inseparable. It wasn't so much an old friendship as it was a strong bond of camaraderie.

His childhood friend Garen took it quite hard as well. The two had know each other since they were only toddlers and they fought in many battles side by side. Garen loved Jarvan like a brother as did his younger sister Luxanna. It took the general weeks to accept the death of his old friend and even then he still talked to Jarvan at his grave as if he were there at his side. Meanwhile his sister worried greatly for her brother's health as he neglected to take care of himself in Jarvan's absence.

That neglect was exactly what lead to the great Demacian General Crownguard's defeat in battle. He collapsed from exhaustion in the midst of combat and the Noxian Butcher was far more than honored to remove his head from his shoulders.

Luxanna became lost. She wandered the rest of her days aimlessly through the streets of Demacia. Her brothers were gone. All she had left were her parents and the boy in Piltover who came to her side during her time of need. The depression took over her. Shyvana would never forget how utterly pitiful the young girl had been during her final days. Such a young age and her life was claimed so cruelly. She did not eat. She could not sleep. And soon, she could no longer draw breath.

A terrible fate met the ranger Quinn as well. The man who had claimed many lives before had taken her in the terror of night during her watch at the territory's perimeter. Talon of Noxus made quick work of her as she became distracted by the diversion created by the man's sister, Katarina. Her loyal bird escaped and lead troops to a dead Quinn with the familiar Noxian steel embedded in her chest. To this day the bird still served Demacia as if his ranger lived on along side him.

Xin Zhao did not last very long after the death of Jarvan. He stole away under the cover of night along with troops of soldiers whom he had gathered in secret. Unfortunately, they were caught before any damage could be done and Xin Zhao's head was cut from his shoulders. It was returned to Demacia with the soldier who had drawn the lucky straw and been allowed to deliver the package without death.

It was incredible.

Even forty years later Shyvana could think back on all these people and still want to cry.

Shyvana lived longer than any of her comrades. There wasn't a day that went by where she did not mourn the loss of Jarvan. He was the man who helped her exact her revenge and accepted her when her own family did not. Of all the things Jarvan was to her- a friend was the most prominent. As a dragon she never had friends amongst her own especially with the prejudice against her human mother. Her friendship with the prince was something so revolutionary to her that at times she questioned whether he was real or not.

"A dragon does not shed tears." She muttered as she stood before his tomb in the Archive of Kings. The crypt was kept as one of the highest buildings in Demacia and skylights decorated the ceiling so that the sun so dearly loved by the kings could bathe them in its brilliant light. "I cannot cry for you. But never doubt that I miss you, my friend." Shyvana paused as she stared at the ground. "No… You were so much more than that."

Sadness cloudly her eyes yet no tears broke through. The dragon took a knee before Jarvan's tomb and placed her hands along the edge of the stone. "I am sorry to say but I fear I loved you, Jarvan. But you've gone now… All your friends are with you as well. I'll continue to serve your kingdom and protect your people. No one shall forget your name. None of you shall fall victim to time- everyone shall live on by my words."

"Your people miss you, Jarvan." Her voice continued although it seemed to be faltering in the her overwhelming sadness. "Forty years have passed… The elders miss you. Their children do not remember yet they hear the stories of the hero. Jarvan… I miss you. How dare you leave! How dare you leave me behind! All of us!"

A loud roar came from the woman as her body suddenly warped and twisted into the form of an enormous dragon. Fire shot out from her mouth and encased the tomb with searing flames that could've brought the entire building down had it not been made of marble. Her screams of anguish echoed off the walls and carried down to the city below. The bustling streets fell silent in respect of the grieving dragon.

Over the years Shyvana had received many honors for her devotion and service to the Demacian city-state. She grew to be just as respected as their King was and had many people who wished to take her as a wife. However, Shyvana refused to promise herself to anyone other than her late prince. Not only did she view him as the one person she would ever have such strong feelings for, but she was afraid of losing another like Jarvan.

"Of all the people who could've died… Why did it have to be you." Her voice was warped as she wrapped herself around the stone tomb that Jarvan's bones would lay with his crown and javelin. The dragon's tail curled around the corners, wings covered the top, and her head rested on the top of the marble. "If I couldn't protect while you were living… Then I'll protect you in the afterlife. Your remains will go untouched. No one will take this place from me."