Garen was caught off guard by the act for only a second.

He eagerly responded to the kiss. His arms enveloping the woman in an impassioned embrace. The emotions that had accumulated from their verbal sparring burst forth urging them both deeper into each other. Katarina's own elegant fingers, more used to dealing death, trailed their way up the commander's abdomen to grip his dinner jacket's lapel in an effort to deepen the kiss. Garen's hands had settled on the woman's back, tracing light patterns on the bare skin.

Katarina groaned. She felt goosebumps crawling from the contact of the Demacian's hand. She shivered in his embrace.

Garen's eyes steadily closed, absorbed in the feeling of her. He wanted her closer. He wanted to feel more.

A steady heat was building between them

"Katarina."

He moaned her name. It was needy, beseeching, triggering memories of an embrace so much like this one.

Her back was on the rough wooden wall. Legs clamped around his waist. Hands seeking, caressing, groping. She bit his neck. A groan of pleasure. He grinds himself into her. His face buried into her crimson tresses, nibbling her ear.

"Katarina." A harsh, passionate whisper.

Her name stops the Sinister Blade as she suddenly pulls back. Breathing hard, she uses his lapels to push him back. The sudden cold left her feeling lonely. She swiftly suppressed a shiver. Her eyes remained unseeing, her head kept bowed. The grip on Garen's jacket tightened.

With unsteady hands, the Demacian gently took hold of the Noxian's wrists. She flinched at the contact but her grip remained strong. Garen's thumb made soft gentle circles on the top of her hand coaxing her. The tense fingers seemed to relax, steadily loosening the death grip on his lapels. He took her hands in his, enveloping them in a tender hold.

It was only then did Katarina look up at Garen.

With the soft moonlight, the rugged features of the battlefield commander softened. She saw an understanding smile and a look of resignation from his brown gaze. She was struck at his handsome features too often marred with a stoic scowl he wore to the battlefield.

Garen looked at Katarina's face. Her emerald green eyes darkened with passion. Her lips, kiss-bruised, quivering as if she wanted to say something. His hand caressed her cheek, brushing over her scar. It was a soft, familiar touch. She did not flinch.

With the only light provided by a ray of moonlight he looked at her sleeping face as he lay down beside her. Thinking her asleep, he traced her aristocratic cheekbones to her pert nose and full lips, the sharp curve of her jaw, the gentle slope of her brows, her long lashes and finally the long scar running down her eye.

"Like what you see?" She spoke without opening her eyes.

Garen was startled at the question.

"You are beautiful."

The frank, succinct praise caught her off guard and made her look at the man laying beside her. She was used to suitors making long epithets about her ethereal beauty or her long crimson mane that Katarina did not know how to respond to this unguarded and genuine assessment from the Might of Demacia. She looked at him, wide-eyed in wonder.

With his knuckles, he caressed her cheek slowly. His thumb brushed at the edge of her lips. He was marvelling at the contrast of her. This sort of beauty was more suited to royal banquets and parties yet he knew first hand her skill in battle. As if to guide his musings, his forefinger touched the tip of her scar.

Katarina flinched making Garen withdraw his touch.

"Why?" Garen's smooth bass voice asked. "With all the magic in Noxus' disposal, why keep this?"

"It is a reminder." Each word pronounced with aristocratic perfection. "A reminder to never get careless. A reminder of my flaws and follies. A reminder of the lives lost and the that lives I myself took."

He realized that it was not a warrior's scar, a mark of pride and valour from battles past. It was a testament to life and how fragile it is.

Garen might not have known it then but looking back, this was the time he realized he loved Katarina.

He touched her scar again, this time with a touch of reverence. She did not flinch. Instead she took his hand, intertwined her fingers in his and kissed him.

The gentle night wind of Demacia's autumn waved a tendril framing Katarina face, tickling Garen's palm. He removed his hands from her and placed them behind him. The smile faltered slightly. He turned around and sighed.

"Good night, milady."

Nothing else needed to be said.

"Good night, milord."

With that, the Sinister Blade left the Might of Demacia to his thoughts and went back to her rooms to organize her own.

~o~

Knock knock.

"Lady Du Couteau, the young master is requesting your presence for breakfast."

Katarina abruptly opened her eyes, having not truly slept. The night's events had forbidden her sleep and she remained on the precipice between slumber and wakefulness.

"Very well, tell Lord Crownguard I'll be there shortly."

She got up and removed her nightwear, a brief silk negligee she prefers. She carelessly throws them in what she assumes to be the hamper and goes to the bathroom to freshen up.

Moments later, she steps out in a more conservative and lighter version of her battle garb, forgoing leather for dark cotton. Her bandolier of small throwing knives hidden beneath the hem of her shirt. She never did go anywhere unarmed. She greeted the butler and allowed him to lead her to the dining room.

"Good morning Lady Crownguard," she made a slight curtsy to the matron.

"Garen." There was the snark that Garen was all too familiar with.

"Yes, good morning Lady Du Couteau. Would you like to have some breakfast?" Was Garen's polite reply by Katarina did not miss the twitch on his brow.

With a throaty chuckle, Katarina took a seat right beside Garen. "Of course. These do look delicious," eyeing the fresh succulent fruit on her plate.

"Would you like to tour around Demacia for today? I'll have the carriage-"

"I prefer to walk if that is fine with you Garen." She interrupts as she picks up an apple and takes a bite out of it. The juices managed to drip down the side of her mouth.

"Of course milady if you woul-" Garen abruptly stops as he sees Katarina trying to lick the juice left on her lip, a blush threatening to come out. Looking at Garen, thinking that something was wrong, Katarina instantly took note of where his eyes were looking with a smirk. Instead of licking it off, she took her index finger, swiped off the droplet and brought the digit on to her too red lips. She licked it off, never taking her eyes off the man beside her and suckled on it.

"You were saying milord?"

"Ahem. Yes, walking is no problem." Garen immediately averted his eyes from her choosing to focus on his breakfast.

It's going to be a long day.


Sorry for the filler chapter. I'm planning to move the plot along next chapter. This is just some fan fluff for me and a little setup for the next chapter.

Cheers! Don't forget to R&R!