Chapter 4: Night Time's Embrace
Tap
There was a sharp, short knock at the window.
Tap
Tap
Tap
The tapping grew more insistent, increasing in volume. Katarina grumbled, opening her eyes and sitting up groggily. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the thin gray light flittering in through the half drawn curtains. When they did adjust, what her eyes revealed to her was not a welcoming sight.
A black raven with six, beady blood-red eyes sat on her windowsill, black feathers glistening with rain. It squawked harshly, tapping its beak on the glass again. Katarina considered ignoring it, but sighed and resolved to open it.
She stood up stiffly, neck wound stinging at the movement, and undid the latch. Immediately, the bird flew in, landing on her bed post and shaking its drenched feathers. The assassin glared at it, but crossed her arms and said nothing. Once again, Beatrice the raven screeched at her.
"What? What does he want now?" She growled, unwillingly holding out an arm for it to hop onto. Beatrice flapped to it, digging razor sharp talons into her skin. It chirruped softly, flicking its head to the door. Katarina sighed, understanding. "Tell him I'll be there soon," she told the bird, bringing it back to the open window. The bird clicked its beak and dove into the howling wind, gliding off into the storm.
Sighing deeply through her nose, Katarina regretfully changed out of her soft night clothes and into her casual wear. This was supposed to be her day off, where she could fling knives at walls all day from bed if she wanted, and she didn't have to go be Swain's errand girl. She strode to the door, disturbing the shadows that had slumbered peacefully there all night, opening and closing it with a soft click.
Katarina knocked quietly on Swain's door, waiting with her arms crossed for an answer.
"Enter," she heard his voice call faintly from behind the door.
Wow, can't even open the door for me? She snorted, letting herself in and putting on her best glower. The sight before her surprised her mildly. Swain sat in his black leather armchair, and a tall man with dark gray hair and deep blue eyes stood next to him, a golden staff in his hand. A glittering ruby sat atop it, refracting red light as lightning flashed outside the window.
"Ah, Katarina, so nice of you to come. Sit, sit," Swain gestured towards the other chair, and as per usual, Katarina remained standing, arms still crossed, scowl still etched into her face. An amused smile stretched across Swain's face.
"Why am I here?" She growled. "And who's he?" She flicked her head towards the man, who remained impassive as ever.
"Patience, Katarina. Let's start with your first question, hm?" He leaned back, pleasant smile still drawn on his face. It pissed Katarina off, and she felt the urge to put a blade where his mouth was. "You're here because the time has come to put the plan into action."
"Right, the plan you never told me," Katarina replied dryly, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Swain ignored the interruption as if it never happened.
"After a long process of careful planning, making certain connections, and taking out certain... obstacles, I believe it is time to tell you what I have devised." His crimson eyes shined with a bloody light. "We're going to execute an all out coup."
Katarina could have laughed, the idea was so preposterous, and she couldn't help but snicker. "A coup? And you really think that'll work?" She snorted, skeptical.
"Of course, I have the utmost confidence that it will, especially with this gentleman's help," Swain gestured to the man with the staff. He stepped forward and smiled darkly.
"Miss Du Couteau, it is a pleasure to meet you," his voice was deep and gravely, and Katarina had the image of Malphite, the rock monster, if he was human. "My name is Aros Konduce, former member of the Grand Council of Valoran."
"'Former'?" Katarina raised an eyebrow questioningly. Aros's gaze darkened.
"Yes, 'former'. I was dismissed after taking some actions that were, ah, frowned upon, shall we say. However, Jericho Swain has sought me out after I had spent many years living as a recluse in Ionia." The man smiled again, but his eyes warned not to ask questions.
Swain cut in, taking over the explanation. "Mr. Konduce is aware about the whereabouts of some prominent figures in the governing staff over Valoran. Your services are not needed at the moment, Katarina, but know that there are changes coming, changes that will affect all of Valoran. That is all, you may go." Swain dismissed her, waving his hand at her to go.
Katarina stared at him a moment, incredulous. That was it? He calls her in here to tell her he was going to take over the government and then just dismisses her? She shook her head, and, rather than arguing the point, left, pointedly slamming the door behind her.
Katarina wandered the halls, mind back in Swain's room. The strangeness of the conversation bothered her, making her skin prickle with a bit of unease. Why go through the trouble of sending for her, and then dismissing her without telling her hardly anything? It just didn't make sense, and the Aros fellow made her uncomfortable.
She was still lost in thought when she almost ran head first into someone.
"Hey, watch it!" An annoyed voice said. Shaken from her thoughts, Katarina snarled at the person who spoke to her like that. She found herself staring into the irritated gaze of Fawn. "Oh, Katarina," Fawn's face relaxed as she recognized her and she grinned a little sheepishly. "Sorry for snapping at you like that, its been a long morning."
Katarina eyed her for a moment, deciding whether or not to keep being snarly to her, then decided it wasn't worth the effort. Trying to figure out Swain's antics had made her head hurt, and she could feel the dull ache of pain in her neck returning, making her in no mood to argue.
"Its fine. Just pay more attention next time," Fawn nodded, looking a bit chastised.
"How's your neck?" Fawn asked, changing the subject. Katarina shrugged, biting back a wince as the movement made the wound sting.
"Alright, I guess. I mean, as alright as it can be."
"What happened exactly?" Fawn asked, tilting her head to the side, violet eyes curious. "I don't really know, to be honest," she elaborated, responding to the confused look on Katarina's face. "I looked away, I couldn't watch. I can deal with blood, but that much just freaks me out. Its the reason why I-" She cut herself off, swallowing nervously. She grinned, not quite meeting the assassin's gaze.
Katarina looked at her suspiciously, wondering what she had been about to say. The way she had cut herself off was strange, but she decided not to push it. "I was hiding in the bushes recalling, you probably saw that part, and Shyvana jumped on me.
I tried to get behind her with a Shunpo, but she stopped and I landed on her back. Long story short, it freaked her the hell out and she went all out monster on me. Next thing I knew, I was in a white room with healers all around me.
Evidently, I almost died. They did everything they could, but I ended up with this," Katarina pushed the hair away from the back of her neck, revealing the cut. She heard a sharp intake of breath from Fawn, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the girl looking a bit faint.
"Sorry," Katarina muttered, quickly letting her crimson hair swing back over it. Fawn looked sick to her stomach.
"It's alright, I just wasn't expecting... that," Fawn replied, shuddering a bit. "It's huge, and deep, too." A queasy look crossed her face as she thought of it, and the summoner wretched. "I should really be going, I'm expected somewhere. See you later, Katarina."
And with that, she hurried down the hall and out of sight.
The rain poured down mercilessly, turning the world outside into a bleak, gray landscape. Katarina sat on the navy blue carpeted floor, staring deeply into the world beyond the window and thinking deeply.
Her bright green eyes reflected the falling water, and they glowed as lightning split the sky. She observed the landscape, taking in every detail.
At first glance, one might only see a colorless curtain, enveloping the world in a velvety gray and making it seem as though time itself was flowing by slower. But as one looks, details begin to emerge.
The black smudge on the horizon that seemed to be the only trace of the mountains of the Freljord in the distance became more distinct. Their jagged peaks became visible, and the eye could follow them all the way down as the became thicker and thicker, flaring out at the place where their roots met the earth.
The shadows on them shifted in accordance with the dancing rain. They flickered on them, constantly changing, never quite the same. If one were to watch for a moment, look away, and look back, they would be different. Maybe not drastically, but they would be surely be different.
The way the rain fell, or the light moved, would change them, making them as ever moving as a river winding through them, sometimes moving slow, sometimes moving fast, but never quite stopping.
The sky above them held many details too, and like the mountains, they were not visible at first glance. At a moment's look, it seemed just to serve as a colorless backdrop for a colorless world. But their was variation in the color.
It was as if a writer had gone to bed late at night, and, in his exhaustion, had forgot to cap his bottle of black ink. As he slumbered, his ever inquisitive cat had leaped onto the desk and spilled it across the papers scattered there. Darker in some places than others, but never losing the distinctly inky look.
If one looked hard enough, they could discern the ever-so-slight twinkle of stars between the thick clouds and the pounding rain, dim, but there, always watching over and guarding the land below them.
The river, disturbed by the steadily falling droplets, rushed from in-between the mountains, a silver ribbon tied around the rocky giants, almost like a present. The steady flow of water rushing by reminded Katarina of time.
Time, such a strange phenomenon. Where does it begin? Where does it end? Where does it go? These are the questions that presented themselves to her, for which she had no answer. Time was as endless as a rushing river, always moving, slow for some, fast for others, but always moving.
She tried to make sense of it all, and collected all the fragments of her thoughts to form one coherent one. Time was a force that controlled everyone and everything. And it was like a river, flowing endlessly.
From the youngest child to the oldest elder, everyone was caught in the current of time. They were dragged along, helpless to the ever moving waters. There were two decisions one could make: fight the current, fruitlessly, and wear one's self out, or go along with the flow, and enjoy the things one had before the ever flowing current washed it away from you.
It was not often Katarina found time to have musings like this, to ponder the mysteries of the world. It was also not known to anyone it was something she did, and she preferred to keep it that way.
She roused herself out of her stupor, ridding her mind of the unanswerable questions that cycled through it. She thought of more pressing matters, such as Swain's plan.
An all out coup, was he crazy? It wasn't like he could just waltz into the High Council's headquarters and demand power over Valoran. No, he couldn't, and Katarina knew, though she hated to admit it, that he was much too smart to think that he could.
Your services will be needed later, the words rang through her head, and, for the first time, made sense. Her services. What did she specialize in? Assassinations. Realization dawned on her. Swain was going to use her to take prominent people in the High Council.
Bu then what? Would he replace them with spies? Surely someone would know the difference. Maybe it was a scare tactic, a sort of blackmail, in hopes that they would meekly lay down and let the general walk all over them. Somehow she didn't think that was it.
It explained the presence of Aros, the former member of the High Council. He was kicked out because he, how did he put it, used tactics that were frowned upon. Though Katarina was no stranger to killing and torture, somehow she shuddered to think what those tactics were.
But there was something off about Swain's plan, something that just didn't add up. He had only talked to her, neither Cassiopeia nor Talon had been present, and both had their own set of skills to put to use. She resolved to ask them about it the next day.
At that point, Katarina stopped thinking about the convoluted plans Swain made up. Her head and neck ached, and the rumble in her stomach reminded her she had not eaten all day. With a jolt, she looked outside to see that the sky had darkened even more. She had been sitting there for a good three or four hours.
The assassin rose, stretching her stiff body, and slipped out of her room to go find something to eat in the dining room. The place was nearly deserted when she entered, only a few summoners sat at a table, talking quietly, and didn't even look up when she passed.
The assassin grabbed a muffin and left, not wanting to spend anytime in the silent room, the light fixtures trembling every time thunder cracked outside. She walked slowly back to her room, eating her "meal" absentmindedly. When she made it back, she had finished, and threw away the wrapper in the trashcan she kept in the bathroom.
Bracing herself, she opened the tube of vile-smelling cream again and smeared it on the healing wound, gritting her teeth at the burning sensation, and sighing as the cool, tingly feeling set in. Then she lay back in bed, turned out the lamp, and tried to sleep.
However, sleep would not come. She was exhausted from doing nothing all day, but she could not find peace. Katarina stared at the shadows on the ceiling. She found they were not quite empty and not quite still, as if there were something in them that wanted to be seen.
Spooked, she turned the lamp back on, feeling like a child too scared to sleep. But she knew that sleep was no longer an option, and that her mind wouldn't stop playing tricks on her, for she knew that was all it was, but she allowed herself the childlike fear that there was something there, and that the light would drive it away.
The woman sat up in bed, a thought crossing her mind. A crazy thought, a stupid thought, but a thought that, to her displeasure, appealed to her. Katarina climbed out from beneath her sheets and, deciding to go barefoot, slipped out of her room.
The assassin slunk down the hallways, clinging to the shadows that had just been the source of her uneasiness, freezing everytime she heard a noise, cautious, knowing she would have a lot of awkward questions to answer if she was caught.
But she knew she wasn't going to be caught. No, tonight, the darkness hid her perfectly, and her footsteps made no noise. Tonight, there was no chance of being caught at all. Creeping down the east wing, she found the door she was looking for. It was at the end of the hall, and was an ornate blue color, with gold swirls curling around the edges.
Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, Katarina raised a fist, and knocked on Ashe's door.
Ashe stared at her in confusion for a moment, blue eyes wide, white hair slightly disheveled, but beautiful all the same. She was dressed in simple blue and black night clothes, and silky shirt and flannel pants.
"K-Katarina...?" She asked, clearly bewildered by the assassin's sudden appearance. Katarina realized how she must look, hair a mess, dressed in black pajamas, barefoot, with a slightly spooked look in her eyes. "Are you... alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Katarina trailed off, finishing the sentence in her mind. Was too scared to sleep. It sounded so pathetic and childish, and she could not bring herself to say it outloud, but she could tell Ashe got the gist of it. She opened the door wider.
"Why don't you come in, I'll make tea."
Katarina sat in a navy blue armchair with her legs crossed under her, cradling a white mug of steaming hot tea in her hands, warming them pleasantly. Ashe sat across from her in a white chair, taking a sip of her beverage before putting it down. Katarina glanced around the room.
It was warmly lit by a single lamp, and books were strewn about in messy stacks. One still lay open, and she knew the archer had been reading. On the wall above her bed, Ashe's bow of eternal ice hung.
"So," said Ashe, smiling warmly at Katarina. "Why'd you decide to come here of all places?" She asked, leaning forward with her chin on her hand, eyes twinkling. "Don't pretend its because we're such good buddies, when you know that's not true." She laughed.
To her dismay and embarrassment, Katarina found herself wishing it was. "I-I just, I dunno, couldn't think of anywhere else, and you..." she trailed off again, burying her face in her mug so that Ashe could not see the blush spreading across her cheeks. They sat like that for a while, Katarina looking into her cup, Ashe still smiling at her.
Katarina heard a soft sigh, and the sound of Ashe standing. Next thing she knew, the archer was sitting in front of her, legs crossed to mirror Katarina's position. Green eyes met blue, and something like electricity passed between them.
"You're afraid," Ashe said quietly, staring into her face with some unnamed emotion. The assassin's hands tightened instinctivly around the mug, and an objection bubbled up in her throat. However, Ashe didn't give her time to get it out.
"You're afraid of the things you don't know, the things that lay hidden in the shadows, the things you can't see. That's why you stick to them so much, so maybe you can hide from those things." For the first time, Katarina looked directly into her face, her expression a mix of anger and sadness.
"What do you know about me?" The assassin spat bitterly, bristling up at the woman. "You don't know what I'm afraid of, not that I'm afraid of anything." The last part made Ashe's lips twitch up into a slight smile, and Katarina felt her anger grow.
"I'm not afraid of the shadows, I'm not afraid of what's in them," she growled, though the lie stung her throat like bile. "I stick to them because they hide me. I'm not afraid of the monster that lurks in them, because I am that monster." The last part tumbled out, unchecked, and she immediatly regretted it. She had revealed far too much about herself, just with that simple phrase.
Ashe's head cocked slightly to the side, a sad look creasing her brow, and spreading to her brilliantly blue eyes. She reached out a hand, laying it gently on Katarina's, and the assassin instinctivly twitched it away, though some part of her screamed at her not to. Ashe sighed.
"You're not a monster, Katarina. Far from it. You're a lot of things, but monster is not one of them."
Katarina laughed bitterly. "What do you know about me?" She repeated, and she felt a strange feeling prickling at her eyes.
"Katarina, do you know what love is?" Ashe asked suddenly, looking at her straight in the face, eyes shining strangly. Katarina opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly, a memory of her father came rushing back to her.
The sun was setting over the valley as a young girl with long red hair and a scarless left eye crept into her father's study. He stood at the window, watching the blazing ball of light sink further and further below the skyline. The dark, oak wood desk next to him held many papers and contraptions, such as a globe, a telescope, and an odd, golden device that whirred every so often.
The man turned as his daughter entered, gazing down at her with an unreadable face. He was tall and robustly handsome, with a roughly shaven face and fierce green eyes, the light of the dying sun only adding to the fire within them.
"Katarina," he said, holding out his hand to the girl. She took it, grasping it tightly, and stood next to her father, looking up at him. The mighty general of Noxus, feared by all, looked his daughter in the face. "Tomorrow you start your training with some of the finest assassins in Noxus. Do not disappoint me, I expect great things out of you."
The young Katarina nodded eagerly, her eyes earnest. "I won't, daddy, I'll become the finest assassin in all of Runterra, and everyone will fear the name Katarina Du Couteau!" Her voice was high and squeaky, but even the youngness of it could not hide the sadistic, murderous note to it.
Her father, however, was unbothered. In fact, he seemed amused. "Of course you will. Now run along, Cassiopeia was looking for you earlier." She nodded again, scampering off in the direction of the door. "Oh, and Katarina?" He called after her. She came skidding to a halt, one hand on the doorframe. "Remember, love only makes you weak. It gets in the way of what must be done, and is only a distraction. Remeber that."
Katarina stared at him for a moment. Love was bad? But she loved Cassiopeia, and she loved him, and she loved blades. Maybe he meant a different kind of love, the romantic kind of love, the kind of love Talon always joked about when he chased her around and tried to kiss her.
Deciding not to dwell on it, she scurried off to find her sister. General Du Couteau turned back towards the window, looking at the fading red line on the horizon, golden contraption on his desk whirring ever-so-softly.
An adult Katarina was rushed back to the present, with the queen of the Freljord sitting on the ground in front of her, eyes curious and worried.
"Katarina?" Her voice was cautious. "Are you alr-"
"Love makes you weak," Katarina snarled, glaring at her. "That's all it does, it gets in the way of what has to be done and provides nothing but a distraction." A steely look crept over Ashe's face.
"And who told you that?" The archer asked quietly, voice full of deadly anger. "Your father?" She stood up suddenly, glaring down at Katarina with such force that the assassin thought she might melt right there on the spot. "Love does not make you weak, love gives you something to fight for, something to strive to protect. Whoever told you that, your father, your instructor, was wrong, Katarina, they were wrong." The anger faded as suddenly as it had come, and Ashe sat down again, looking weary.
"They were wrong..." she whispered again, placing her hand on Katarina's once more. This time, she didn't jerk it away. Whether it was because she was too stunned or didn't care was unknown, but the point was she allowed it.
The fight drained out of Katarina, and she once again felt the prickle in her eyes, and realized they were tears. Choking them down, the assassin tried to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes glazed over with tears, and Ashe knew what was about to happen a second before it did.
Like a waterfall bursting through a dam, a cascade of water rushed down Katarina's face and she dissolved into a puddle of tears. She tasted the saltiness of them, felt them soak her face, but she didn't care, she didn't care. Oblivious to the world around her, she barely registered the feel of Ashe's arms around her, the jolting sensation of her knees hitting the floor, the scent of the archer's perfume wafting around her, and the sound of her shushing her softly.
She didn't even know why she was crying, but she was sobbing and sobbing and quite unable to stop. It wasn't even the dignified type crying, it was full on ugly sobbing, with her face twisted up and her mouth uttering sounds like a dying animal.
Ashe continued on holding her, crooning softly in her ear to try and calm her down, as the assassin began to get a hold of herself. Slowly, the sounds stopped and her face untwisted, and finally, she hiccuped herself into silence.
Taking shaky breaths, Katarina finally managed to get herself under control, and looked up into Ashe's face, startled to see tears stained her cheeks too. Barely registering the movement, she reached up and brushed them away gently, the sight of her crying making the assassin unhappier than she already was.
The Frost Archer gave her a watery smile and laughed a little, drying her eyes quickly on her sleeve. She reached onto the coffee table and grabbed a tissue from the box, offering it to Katarina. She blew her nose and dried her eyes before looking sheepishly into the eyes of the archer.
Ashe looked back. The assassin's eyes were red rimmed and already puffy from the force of her tears, and her nose still dripped slightly. She gave her another tissue, which Katarina gratefully accepted. Clutching it tightly, embarrassment shot through Katarina as she realized Ashe still cradled her in her arms.
But the archer made no move to release her, so Katarina allowed it.
"Now what," Ashe's voice was gentle, as if she was speaking to a broken child, "was that all about?" A little hesitantly, she raised her hand to Katarina's head and, after a moment's hesitation, slowly ran her fingers through her hair, trying the best she could to comfort the girl.
Katarina leaned into her hand, too exhausted to be embarrassed anymore. Who knew crying tired you out so much? At the moment, she didn't care that she was supposed to be some cold, sadistic assassin who's motto was "stab first, ask questions later", she just wanted the comfort she knew only human contact could bring, and Ashe was as good as any. In fact, she was better than any. She was, to put it bluntly, perfect.
"I-I don't know, I just... lost it..." Katarina said quietly, not meeting the archer's gaze. She hiccuped again, the motion making her shoulders jump and her neck bump against Ashe's hand. Though the contact was light, she hissed in pain, and Ashe immediatly drew her hand back.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, apologetic.
"No, no, it's fine, it just hit your hand is all." Katarina squirmed a bit, wondering how exactly to ask Ashe to go back to stroking her hair. The feeling of it was soothing and steady, something the woman wanted back.
Ashe got the message, however, and much to Katarina's relief, resumed running her fingers gently through her crimson hair, being careful around her neck.
"I don't know what happened," Katarina admitted honestly, the cool feeling of Ashe's skin touching hers distracting her slightly. "I just... exploded, I guess." Ashe nodded, and stopped stroking her hair for a moment. Gently, she grasped the assassin's warm hands in her cold ones.
"Katarina, in all your life, I don't think you've ever had a friend who truly loves you." Katarina opened her mouth to object, but Ashe continued on. "Cassiopeia doesn't count. She's your sister, she has to love you. And neither does Talon, he's as good as your brother. He has to too."
Her hands shifted from clutching Katarina's to the assassin's face, gently caressing her cheeks and wiping away the remaining tears. Ashe stared deeply into her eyes, unblinking, and Katarina stared back.
"You okay now?" Ashe asked, breaking the spell and removing her hands. The storm outside raged harder than ever, and the wind howled violently. Katarina nodded shakily, and Ashe stood, helping her to her feet.
Katarina turned to leave, unsure what to do next, when the archer's quiet voice spoke behind her.
"You can stay the night, if you want," she murmered. Katarina stopped in her tracks and turned, looking stunned, and Ashe blushed. "You know, if you want to. I find its usually hard to go to sleep on your own after a breakdown like that, so I just thought, you know..." her blush deepened, contrasting brillantly with her pure white hair.
Somehow, despite everything, Katarina found the strength to smile. Sleeping in her dark, quiet room was something that seemed highly unpleasureable to her, and she found herself nodding.
"Actually, I think I would," feeling bold, she sat down on the archer's bed, gesturing for her to join her. Ashe's eyes widened, and it was her turn to flail.
"Y-you... w-we... w-we're..." She stumbled over her words, and Katarina couldn't help but giggle.
"It's your bed, isn't it? And I'm far too important to sleep on a couch." Ashe hesitated a moment more, then cautiously joined her.
"If you're sure..."
"I'm sure," Katarina said with conviction. What was driving her to do this, she did not know, but something told her if either of them had been in her right minds, this would not be happening. But neither of them were, so it was happening, and she might as well enjoy it while she could.
Ashe flipped off the lamp as she climbed next to the redheaded girl, and darkness filled the room. Katarina stared at the ceiling, and the shadows there no longer seemed menacing, but once again quietly playful, dancing softly all through the night.
Her father's words rang once again in her head, 'love makes you weak', but she ignored him this time. Ashe was right, she didn't know what love was, and she had never had anyone who truly loved her. Maybe she could find it here.
But it was not the time to dwell on such thoughts, for the night wore on, and dawn approached, when Katarina would have to once again be the cold, murderous assassin she was meant to be.
Now was the time to sleep, and she did so, letting the sounds of the pounding rain and steady rhythm of Ashe's breathing take her into a land far beyond the one she inhabited now.
A/N: Well there you have it. The beginning of Swain's plan, of a new friendship (and maybe something more? *eyebrow raise*) with Ashe, and of Fawn just being... Fawn. This took a lot longer to write, and also my sleep schedule is screwed up, so I end up writing at four in the morning and its complete trash so I have to back and edit it the next day. Whoops gotta fix that. Anyways, until next time! ~Silver