(Very short) Recap: Amaranth has just experienced a rather vivid and unpleasant reminder of who she really is: Mordekaiser's 13th heir. After passing out from the rather traumatic flashbacks, how will she and Thresh handle the aftermath?

She awoke to the softness of cotton sheets and the familiarity of her cell bed. The throbbing in her head pounded dully against sluggish senses and screaming muscles. It was pain that she welcomed. Because that meant she was far, far away from the atrocities that had plagued her subconscious ever since- Ever since…

With a jolt, Amaranth realized that she had no inkling whatsoever of what time or what day it was. The last thing she remembered was crashing into Thresh right before everything went dark. Great...

Groaning, Amaranth shifted stiffly in her bed, attempting to sit up. Only then did she realize that she was not alone.

Thresh sat facing her bed, perched like a hawk, the deadliness of a hunter masked beneath a veil of patience.

"Good morning, my lovely," He greeted her with a lazy smile and leaned back in his seat, awaiting her response.

With the despair of a bird with freshly clipped wings, she looked at him, flightless and lost. The silence stretched on until finally, she spoke.

"Warden. I wish to speak to Cyrill, please." Her words were forced and polite, crafted with a formality that fell short of her usual defiance.

Warden? How long had it been since she'd called him that? Probably not since she'd learned his name. Something was wrong.

"Cyrill is… Unavailable at the moment. Perhaps I could take a message?"

"That won't be necessary, but thank you for the offer, Warden." Bullshit! She wanted to scream, but she forced down the outburst. She would not argue with him today.

Something flashed in Thresh's eyes upon hearing her refusal, but Amaranth didn't have the energy or state of mind to process what it was.

"And here I was thinking that you and I were just beginning to bond." His statement was laden with unspoken weight, bait hung in the air to lure wounded prey out of hiding.

Where he had expected to rekindle her capacity for their usual banter, Amaranth seemed to just deflate before his very eyes, retreating further into her shell.

"My apologies, Warden." She mumbled half-heartedly. "I did not think that my troubles should be anyone's burden to bear."

"But yet you still wish to confide in Cyrill." Though Thresh managed to keep the venom out of his voice, the words were vile on his tongue, a bitter aftertaste left in their wake. Cyrill. What did his mentor have to offer that he could not?

Amaranth bit her lip. "I do. Please. Cyrill is the only one who-" She hesitated. How could she explain this to Thresh? She couldn't. Instead, she settled for something else. Something that was, though not apparent to her at the time, far, far worse. "Cyrill would understand."

"... And you are implying that I would not." He leveled his gaze with hers as the malice within him spiked feverishly close to boiling point. Thresh took a deep breath. Let it simmer.

"What? No! I just meant that-"

"Tell me Amaranth, when did you become so attached to our esteemed head of the Order?"

"I didn't. I'm not. Look, I just need to talk to him. What about that is so hard to understand?"

"You seemed perfectly content with talking to me over the past month and a half." His anger rolled and turned, a restless tide due to crash spectacularly onto shore. This was getting out of hand.

He needed to leave before something ridiculous came out of his mouth. But not just yet. Leaving on his own accord would be a defeat, a predator retreating from the chase. He would leave, eventually, but it would have to be on her terms.

"That was different! That was before Mo-" Mordekaiser's name lingered soundlessly on her tongue, a curse she could not say. "Cyrill knows who I really am."

All she needed was a push. Just. A little. Push. "And who is that, exactly?"

Something within her expression changed, and her lively grey eyes hollowed to a vacant, hardened stare. "I think you should leave. Now."

"Why? Am I suddenly not good enough for you after your encounter with the great Mordekais-"

"Leave! I don't want to talk about it. ESPECIALLY. With you! Just. Go!" Oh? So be it. He knew when there was nothing more to gain from a situation.

"If you say so, my dear." Casting her a final glance, he bowed out of the room without another word.

As the metal door swung shut, Thresh cursed, and all the anger he had been withholding finally burst forth in a tidal wave of frustrated thoughts. He didn't know what was worse, her refusal to confide in him, or her insistence on only speaking to Cyrill.

Why Cyrill? It was not Cyrill who had spent all that time in the vault with her, nor was it Cyrill who had given her the luxury of waltzing around the whole damn place free of restraint.

And it was definitely not Cyrill who had caught her when she fainted, carried her back to her cell (truthfully, he didn't really mind) and kept an eye on her while she recuperated from whatever it was that had happened with Mordekaiser's skull.

So the question was, why? Why on earth did she prefer his mentor, of all people, to him? And why, was this goddamned triviality bothering him to no end?

You're jealous. Not in that way of course, he was above such petty insecurities. He knew that Amaranth harbored no romantic feelings towards Cyrill whatsoever. The mere idea of it was just… Disturbing. This was about something else entirely.

As Amaranth herself had said, Cyrill "would understand". That meant he knew something Thresh didn't. The whole story. It implied that Cyrill was, in a way, closer to Amaranth than he was.

And Thresh detested the thought of someone else knowing her better than he did. No. He would not allow it. She was… What was she to him, exactly? Prisoner? Plaything? Friend? (Since when did he acknowledge anyone as his friend?) Not quite… None of those seemed to fit.

It was rather simple, really. She was his. And he would not. Share her. With anyone.


He did not return to Amaranth's cell until the next morning. One look at her face and Thresh could tell that she had not slept much, if at all.

"Long night?"

"What are you doing here, Thresh?" Well, at least she was using his name again.

"My job, what else?"

"Oh. Uhm." Her eyes skipped over his frame and lingered on the door, as if expecting someone else to arrive.

Was she disappointed that he had shown up instead of Cyrill? Subtly, his jaw clenched. He'd reflected upon this matter just yesterday, why was it resurfacing again?

Bury it. Yes, he would. As far as Thresh was concerned, he would bury the thought over, and over, and over again until it had all but vanished from his mind.

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears that Cyrill is out of the country at the moment."

"You're lying."

"Why do you assume the worst in me, Amaranth?"

"Should I not?"

"I find your distrust very upsetting."

"Oh boohoo," She muttered.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. Play. Nice. Given how unstable she was at the moment, it was probably the best way to get her to open up to him. To trust him… Like the way she did with Cyrill...

"If you must know, Cyrill is currently investigating a series of assassinations occurring throughout Runeterra. And no, I do not know when he will return."

The suspicion in her stare lessened only slightly, her delicate brows furrowed deep in thought. "Assassinations? Sounds like something the police should be taking care of, not the Order."

"Pft. Those half-wits in the police force are hardly qualified to pursue criminals with such problematic… Skillsets." A bitter edge crept into his voice, perhaps more than he would have deemed appropriate.

"And what skillset is that?"

Thresh looked her straight in the eyes. "Dark magic. Surely you know a thing or two about that?"

"I do." Her trauma hung from her neck like a pendant of rope, the noose tightening ever so slowly with each passing second. "But I wish I did not."

Abruptly, she turned away from him, opting instead to face the wall. And for the rest of the day, nothing else could be pried from her lips. Not. A single. Word.

But this time, Thresh felt no anger as he exited her cell. Because this time, he had not emerged empty-handed. Back in the comforts of his own office, Thresh grinned to himself. From the way she spoke, vulnerable and hesitant, and the raw, unbridled emotions worn so openly for him to see, he could tell that a part of her wanted desperately to confide in him. Why had he not seen it before?

Cyrill was merely an excuse. An escape. And now, all forms of escape had been… Duly dealt with. Barricaded. Now, her only option left for any respite at all, was him. She was wounded, and the wounded did not last long when trapped.

Yes. Any path she chose to take would lead only to him. But even after all the unnecessary frustrations she'd caused him, Thresh did not wish to harm her unnecessarily. He probably could not, even if he tried. Not that he wanted to... As to why, he did not know.

For now, he would let her struggle. Let her demons feast upon her instability. Let her be the master of her own undoing.

She would spiral into her own inner turmoil, falling further and further until she hit absolute rock bottom. But what was rock bottom, exactly? He supposed he would recognize it when the time came.

Eventually, she would come willingly to him. And for that, he would wait.


As it turned out, rock bottom was nowhere in sight. The following days were far less eventful, though Amaranth's condition had deteriorated rather drastically.

She spoke little, if at all, and when she wasn't staring at the wall, her hands were the subject of her vacant gaze. On occasion, she would run one hand over the other. Slowly at first, before escalating to a flurry of movement, as if trying to wring the memories clinging to her flesh.

It had been 5 days since she had awakened from her Mordekaiser-induced slumber. 5 days, and the usefulness of her thoughts had evaporated almost entirely. In spite of that, she chose to churn on in the darkness. Claimed prisoner by an internal war already lost, this sleeplessness was her torture.

Thresh would never admit it, but the rift between them made him uncomfortable. Oddly enough, watching her unravel like this was not as satisfying as he had made it out to be. He didn't like that this crippling bout of depression had been brought on by… External factors.

It was an unpleasant reminder that there were other things able to influence and affect her state of mind. Only he should have the power to do that. He felt like a scavenger, picking up scraps from a kill that was never his in the first place. It just didn't feel right.

She would break eventually, but not under these circumstances. And if he had to mend her broken spirit, then he would personally see to it that her soul was once again made whole. Whole, and completely his for the taking.


"Here. Drink this." He handed Amaranth a cup of coffee: dark, steaming liquid radiating an aroma rich enough to rouse the dead. It was an uncharacteristically kind gesture, even more so since he had actually brewed the coffee himself.

A brief sharpness returned to her eyes as she inspected the beverage. Take it, his mind growled. As if she had heard him, Amaranth reached out a trembling hand, frail fingers fumbling to grasp the cup. Had her strength failed her so in these past 5 days?

His hands steadied hers, and a rush of warmth returned to her cheeks at the brief contact. For the first time in days, she looked directly at him. Dark circles had made their nest under her eyes, now bloodshot and exhausted.

"Don't worry, it's not poison," He said in an attempt to sound reassuring. "Now, drink."

Slowly, she drank. And then, a grimace formed on her face, the first display of emotion she'd shown in a while. "Ugh. You're sure it's not?"

Thresh tilted his head in confusion. "No, why? I drink this every morning."

"No wonder you're such a grouch…" She muttered. This was good. This was progress, at the very least. "Thank you." Gratitude shimmered in her weary eyes, before she dropped her gaze and continued. "I'm sorry if I upset you the other day."

"You were not in the right frame of mind."

"I still am not." Again, she stared at her hands.

"No, you are not. But I suppose that is why I am here. Though what you make of that is entirely up to you."

He watched her struggle with herself. Come now Amaranth, come away with me to the slaughter.

"I… I just need time, Thresh."

She was stalling, he could tell. In truth, her mind had already concluded that she needed him. Thresh smiled, a mask of humane understanding shrouding sadistic triumph. "I understand."

Time? He had time. Neither of them was going anywhere. So as far as he was concerned, they had all the time in the world. It was only a matter of how long she wanted to keep up this dance of theirs.


It was 8 days after Amaranth had regained consciousness when he received the news. A single letter sat on his desk, scrolled up and tied with a ribbon. Thresh's eyes scoured over the text once, twice, thrice. It was confirmed.

Cyrill was returning to the Blessed Isles. In less than a week, it seemed. The fates were against him, he decided with disgust, and the parchment crumpled in his hand.

Normally, he would have appreciated the head of Order's efficiency. This was an exception. What if Cyrill decided to pay the vault a visit? (To check in on him or some nonsense like that) Would he be able to guarantee that Cyrill would not take the opportunity to visit Amaranth too?

The answer was, unfortunately, no. And that meant that time was indeed running out. Think.

He would not be bested by something as absurd as bad timing. The situation was less than favorable, but he refused to be stuck. No, never stuck. Merely forced to come up with a more immediate solution. He preferred that.

Forced. Something clicked in his head. That was it. Though he usually disliked purely aggressive measures, it was the only way. He would force her out of hiding. And he knew exactly how to achieve just that.


10 days was an impressive amount of time to have gone without sleep, and though his little charade of kindness had progressively softened her up to him, it had hardly helped with her insomnia.

And her moods, it seemed, were more erratic than ever. When he had last seen her (just last night), she was an image of irrational anxiety, terrified by even the slightest movement of shadows across her cell floor.

Now, as he stepped into the room, she seemed eerily at ease. The calm before the storm. As usual, he settled into his chair, placed right beside her bed.

"How are we feeling today, my dear?"

"Better than last night." As it had been for the past week or so, her tone was cordial. Not hostile, but not warm either. Secretly, he missed her usual energy. Perhaps soon, things would resume their normalcy. Whatever normal even was for them anyway.

"Good. Because today, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

Thresh reached into her bag of supplies. He paid close attention to Amaranth's expression as he drew out Mordekaiser's skull, glancing at the hollowed sockets only once before letting the skull rest on his knee.

Horror overwhelmed Amaranth, a knife to the gut slowly twisted, agony splashed across her face. "You have no right." Her voice quaked with the intensity of a hurricane, her rage a time bomb destined for destruction.

Unfazed, Thresh leaned in closer towards her. "My dear, I have the only right."

"No!" She lunged at him vehemently, the hunger of a lion scrawled across her face. With more strength than he imagined possible, she tackled him straight into the wall. That strange crimson glow had returned to her eyes, burning with a hatred unique only to her lineage.

Thresh held very still as slender fingers curled around his neck, a wicked grin stretching across his lips. This. This was his victory.

"You are way out of line, Thresh! What the fuck are you playing at?! Bringing that- that thing in here?! To me, of all people?!"

"So what happens now, Amaranth?"

"I don't fucking know! I don't care anymore! I just want-"

"To kill me?"

For a brief moment, she looked at him like he was crazy. Then, her fingers started to close in around his throat, certain to stop only when his windpipe was all but crushed, perhaps not even then.

And that was when it happened. Letting his head loll back slightly in her hands, Thresh laughed. It was the laugh of a madman, chilling and cruel.

"Oh my… You truly are Mordekaiser's heir, and here I was having my doubts."

"What did you say?" The red in her eyes dimmed almost immediately, his words cutting through the havoc wreaked upon her mind.

"You. Mordekasier's heir. It was so very hard to believe at first, mind you."

"I'm not-"

"Don't. Lie. To me." She flinched, releasing her grip on his neck as she recoiled further away from him.

"... What gave me away?"

"A variety of things, though your little performance back there certainly helped. Your temper is really quite breath-taking, Amaranth." His words were sharpened daggers, digging deeper and deeper into the crumbling remains of her defenses. The Warden dusted himself off, feigning ignorance to her distress.

He brushed past the traumatized girl, pausing at the exit only for a moment. "I had my doubts. But now, I am truly convinced. Bravo, Amaranth."

And then he was gone, taking with him the last slivers of light flickering in her eyes, leaving Amaranth nothing but darkness.


That night, the hallucinations started. Thresh had not been there in person to witness it, but the aftermath was plain for him to see.

Shreds of torn fabric littered the floor, a sprinkling of feathers scattered like snowflakes in every direction possible. In the middle of it all, was Amaranth. She sat in a sea of mutilated sheets, looking even worse than she had over the previous days.

Relief flooded over her when she saw him and before he had the chance to ask, she had rushed up to him, hands gripping his coat tightly.

"Thresh! He was- He was here! Last night, I don't know how, but he was right there." She pointed to the corner of the room, barely able to weave coherent sentences together. "I don't know where he came from, but he just- Just stood there! And then I- I fought with him."

"You fought." He repeated, cynicism dripping in his tone. From the way she'd mangled her pillow and bed, she must have truly believed that there had been an intruder.

"Yes, I did! And he-"

"Miraculously escaped without a trace."

"I-" She took a moment to process his words, realization striking her like lightning.

"As warden of this vault, I assure you no one else has the keys to the citadel except for me."

"Maybe you forgot to lock the entrance when you left!" She insisted. This was getting ridiculous, he thought.

"Do I look like the sort of person who makes mistakes?"

"I swear he was here…" She whispered, eyes scanning the room for evidence. She found none.

"No one was here last night, Amaranth."

"But what if tonight-"

"No one will be here tonight either, Amaranth."

She fell very silent, the tenseness in her stance dissipating.

"Do you… Do you think that could change though?"

"Haven't I already said that only I have complete access to the vault? Perhaps you should consider getting some sleep. Or actually taking more than two bites of your food."

"I meant." Hesitantly, she looked away from him. "Could you stay here, tonight? With me."

Oh. He had not expected that. "You want me to stay."

"I know it's a strange request… And I understand if you might feel awkward about it-"

"I'll stay."

"You will?" Hope blossomed in her eyes, a bud emerging among the carnage.

"Of course I will." For the first time in 11 days, the closest thing to a smile graced her lips. It was a welcome sight. Maybe a broken Amaranth wasn't really what he wanted after all.

Author's Note: Hello! Sorry if this chapter took a while, mainly because it was fucking difficult to write. Lots of Thesh-centric thoughts and Amaranth having a meltdown. I didn't quite manage to capture all the desired events in this, but hey, more action for the next chapter I guess. Writing and explaining Thresh's motivations and inner psyche was pretty tough, on top of trying to realistically capture Amaranth's trauma and depression.

I honestly have no idea how this turned out in the end, so please leave a review. I'd like to know where I screwed up, or where I didn't. It really helps :) Thanks for reading!


PM/Review replies:

Since FanFiction appears to be eating some of my PMs and/or delaying the sending of some of my PMs, I'm going to try to reply to all reviews in this section! :D

BeBe6279: D'aww, thank you! (I'm really not that talented lol) And yeah, I realized that the Mordekaiser chapter was pretty confusing, thanks for pointing that out, I've made some edits to make it more clear. Sorry for my rather non-existent update schedule, but I'll do my best to keep the chapters coming!

Maxaro (from Chapt 4): Really can't thank you enough for leaving such a thoughtful review, you already know how much I value your honest feedback, and how much I respect your views as a writer. Thanks for sticking this story out.

A fan of this: Hehe, thanks! Yeah, plot twists are rather difficult to pull off, but I'm glad you found it interesting! School's started and all, and honestly my inspiration is failing me lately but I will definitely try to keep updating :)

Haruzaki: Your wish is my command! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 'Amazing' is a bit of a stretch if you ask me, but I shall accept the ego-fanning :D

EDGLayla: (in response to the PM) when I got your reply, I was like. Fuck. I actually sent that BEFORE the Mordekaiser chapter was up, but seeing that FF hates me... :P Sorry about that. Must have sounded so stupid, me asking you what you thought of Morde after I'd gone and spoiled everything LOL. As for the bloodline drama, we'll see, I might not have a direct Mordekaiser-Amaranth confrontation until... Much later. As you can tell I have no idea what I'm doing. Anyways, thanks for reading and putting up with all the spam I've thrown at you ^^

Gmp1000: Nice to hear from you again! It's so nice hearing that you enjoyed the changes to Amaranth's backstory. Yes, exactly, you read my mind! I never wanted Amaranth to be unnecessarily OP, but giving her a super shady and dark past seemed justified in this case. Thanks for reading and giving the re-write a chance

Impressed reader: Hehe. Lore-wise, I try :P There's a lot of unexplored potential in Riot's lore, and it's kinda fun to put your own spin on that.

Sorry for the spam. Sorry. But hey, if people take the time to read and review, the least I can do is thank them, right?