Thanks so much everyone! (: I can't express that enough. I've been looking for some good music to listen to while I write. Normally, I listen to the Skyrim soundtrack (yes I play it) but I'm looking for something more medieval. I had a suggestion for Merlin on BBC, as it turns out my parents and sister love that show so yes, I've been listening to that. (; But if you have any suggestions, let me know. (:

Oh yeah... this is the chapter that's gonna revolutionize the story. No big deal. (;

Chapter 8:

Garen had never felt more insecure… or self-confident. As he stood in front of the mirror in Katarina's room, he couldn't help but strangely admire himself. Never before had a Demacian worn such a garment, but never before had a Demacian infiltrated their enemy city-state. As he straightened his tie, a thought panged in the back of his mind: was this really what this was all about? Democracy? Peace? Those were the things he had been told as he grew up, but at Katarina's revelation, he couldn't help but wonder if his childhood learnings had been lies as well.

Tonight would be the night he would find out. He didn't think that it would be the most exciting thing he would ever do in his career, but it would definitely unlock some answers that everyone was waiting to find out. Vaguely, he wondered what Noxian parties were like; were they anything like Demacian balls? From the outfit he was wearing, he didn't believe they were.

They were always told that Noxus was everything opposite from Demacia. With that in mind, Garen thought of the most vulgar, explicit, horrible gathering ever, and cringed at the thought. As he sunk to her bed, he looked behind him: they had laid in between those sheets all day, not daring to move. Never once had either of them spoken of what they were about to do now; there was a chance neither of them would return, and they didn't need to acknowledge that.

"Are you ready?" Katarina asked from the doorway.

Garen looked up to see her, and his heart couldn't help but skip a beat. Her red hair was pulled down over her shoulders in loose waves. She wore a tight black dress with a sweetheart neckline, and it raised to just below her thighs. Her heels were lacey and black, about four inches tall. In justification for this vulgar thoughts, he stood and searched for a weapon on her person, reminding himself that they were here to get this done.

"Yes," he replied.

Katarina smiled at him and walked over to where he was standing. She smoothed her hands over the shoulders of his tuxedo and ran them down his arms. With a nod of approval, she led him downstairs to where Talon was waiting, dressed in the mirrored image of Garen, wearing a suit and tie. They nodded to eachother: it was time to execute phase one.


The music blasted through Garen's veins as the three walked down the black carpeted stairs into the major area where the party was being held. He had never heard such a sound in his life: as he was used to harps and strums. This beat had a much larger bass and the people danced in jumping motions, as if it was some kind-of a game. Katarina pushed her hair over her shoulders, the red representing a striking image. At first, Garen was afraid someone would have spotted them, but no one was paying them any ounce of their attention.

The party was everything Garen had imagined: everyone was dressed in black and white with lights flashing and the music blaring. There was no simplicity to this what-so-ever; it was such a change that he took a moment to pause and take it all in. The attendees were almost on top of one another, grinding, shaking, with their hands in the air. Was this custom?

Without a word, Katarina squeezed Garen's hand. He laced his fingers through hers and she led him in the opposite direction of where Talon was headed. Garen's mind was momentarily blurred as he allowed her to lead him in a more secure location where he could actually hear her.

"What do you think?" she asked loudly.

"It's nothing like I expected," he answered honestly. "Where do we go?"

"Follow me!" she said and quickly lead him into the crowd. Shocked at her actions (as he only thought they were here to get the diary), he pulled back but she just continued to pull him in the middle of the crowd.

Katarina placed herself in front of him and placed Garen's hands along her waist. With that, she began to move against him slowly. She would go faster when the beat increased. Garen couldn't help but feel his manhood arising at her actions. Instinctively, he shut it down and leaned down so his lips were pressing against her ear.

"Aren't you afraid someone will notice you?" he asked.

"No – but this isn't a spectator sport, Garen. We have to fit in," she explained and grinded against his body. While she did so, she kept her eyes on Talon.

Talon was on the platform overlooking the party, to the right of Swain and LeBlanc, who sat in twisted chairs. Swain's bird was rested on his shoulder as he gazed upon the attendees. LeBlanc held her staff in one hand and looked gracefully around the party with her dark eyes. Talon stood to the right of her, his arms crossed. Without a word, he and Katarina communicated through their eyes and gestures. She knew she had to wait for his signal.

Before long of her grinding, Talon gave her one nod. One nod was all she needed. "Follow me."

Garen, who was already amazed at how quickly and easily their plan was going, followed Katarina into the hallway outside of the party room. It was a bright white that reminded him of Demacia, but it was filled with black marks and designs that made it seem leery. She led him down the hall, checking over her shoulder every so often to make sure no one was following them.

He didn't question her, and that was the major thing. She lead him to a marble staircase that led up to the second floor. With gentle click-clacks of her heels, she walked up. Garen's heart was racing a million miles an hour. He didn't have his sword: Katarina had insisted that he came unarmed because if he walked in carrying a sword, they would have known immediately that it was him. Now that he was on the second floor of the castle, he wasn't so sure it had been a good idea to agree with her on that matter.

She seemed to know where she was going. In fact, she led him straight to the door they needed to be at. Her ear pressed gently against the painted black wood, listening for anyone inside. When she was satisfied and convinced no one was on the other side or watching them, she clicked open the doorknob and slipped inside. Garen followed her, stanced if he needed to hand-to-hand fight someone. Katarina only laughed at his actions and immediately walked into the darkness.

There was one candle in the room. It was the only source of light, and it was sitting on Swain's desk on the far right of the room. It was filled with chairs, couches, books, laid out pieces of parchment, and … not shadows. Garen's eyebrows raised as he studied Katarina's figure. Normally, in every part of Noxus, shadows were lurking and you felt like someone was watching you. But, inside of Swain's office, that feeling was replaced with a lighter, more incentive feeling.

"There aren't shadows here," Garen pointed out as he began to look at the books, searching for the diary.

"I know. Swain keeps his office clean of watchers. He barley lets anyone inside, let alone know where it's located," she explained and began pulling out the drawers of the desk.

"So, how did you know where it was?" he asked.

Katarina paused before picking up the tiniest book of them all. "Swain sometimes required my services for things other than my missions. Anyway, this is what we're looking for. We have to take it with us. No doubt he has some sort of enchantment on it if we try to open it. But, lucky for us, the hard part has been done."

"I'm surprised it was that easy," Garen shrugged.

Katarina smiled. "I'm just very good at what I do."

"Yes, yes you are," Garen agreed before proceeding to follow her out the door.


"Talon – has your sister returned yet?" Swain asked the assassin next to him. Talon merely looked down at his boss.

"There have been whispers," he replied without breaking his gaze. "But, I have yet to see her."

"No doubt she would have come to see me first… Any news upon Demacia?"

"None, sir. They seem to be at a standstill," Talon answered and looked back out over the crowd in search for Katarina's long red hair. It didn't catch his eyes, which meant he needed to stall Swain longer than what he had originally expected. If Garen and Katarina were doing anything else…

"That is not good. LeBlanc, any news from the camps?" he asked the woman beside him.

She didn't even both to look at him. "It appears that there is a Demacian camp about a mile east from us. But, they're causing no trouble for the time being."

"Good, we shall march on them once they make a move. I feel something out of place," Swain muttered to his bird and then looked at Talon. "Talon, please make rounds around the castle. Make sure no one is where they shouldn't be. I feel the need to retire to my chambers for a moment."

"Sir, do you honestly think that's a wise decision?" Talon asked, but over Swain's shoulder, he saw Katarina and Garen quickly making their way up the stairs they had come down on to the outside.

Swain looked at Talon in confusion. "Whatever do you mean?"

"It's just that… the people came to see you. Wouldn't it be rude to just leave them here in your absence?" Talon lied quickly. He was afraid it wasn't convincing, but both his leaders smiled.

"Talon, I appreciate everything you're doing for me. But right now, I need you to go make your rounds and then report back in. I will be quite alright," he assured him and turned around to leave. LeBlanc shrugged as he hobbled away.

Without another word, Talon quickly departed from his sanctuary to catch up with Katarina and Garen.


Once outside, Katarina tossed a cloak to Garen and began to tie one around her own neck. Garen was halfway down tying his around his neck when a figure hopped down from one of the rooftops above them. It was Talon. Katarina noted his angry look but pointed to the diary in her holster. Talon nodded but continued on to warn them.

"Swain knows something is wrong. You two need to leave Noxus right now. I'll stall him as quickly as I can. I received word that there is a Demacian camp about a mile east of the city. Find refuge there tonight, but please… Make it back to Demacia alive," he pleaded.

Katarina pulled him into a hug, pressing all of her apologizes to him into one. "We'll be fine, Talon. I promise you."

"I believe you," he agreed and pulled back. His eyes shone as he looked into the darkness at his enemy… which had now become his friend and his only hope.

"Take care of her," he said.

"I will," both Katarina and Garen answered simultaneously. Talon stiffened a laugh and before they knew it, he was on top of the building once more.

"Come on," Katarina seized Garen's hand and led him eastward.


The two traveled through the alleyways of the night once more. Katarina led him through endless passages and tunnels, and kept eyeing the shadows for ones that lingered. Those were watchers, and reported to Swain himself. She slunk through the darkness, Garen at her side, and this time… her blades were in both her hands. She wasn't taking chances, especially now that she had the diary and they were so close to getting out of the city.

Within minutes, they had found the eastward passage leading out of the city. At the inner city walls, Katarina pressed against one black brick and it fell to something hollow within the wall. Intrigued, Garen watched as she began to pull pipes out of the wall, one by one, until there was a clear dimly lit passage in front of them. Knowing Garen hadn't used one of them before, she quickly led him into it, and replaced the wall with ease.

"Are these everywhere in the city?" he asked.

"Yes. Especially tonight, since all the guards are drinking themselves silly. We picked a good time to come to Noxus," she winked at him.

With that, the two warriors escaped past the walls of the city. They hid within the darkness of plants, rocks, and little forests; all to escape from the light of the moon that could have them seen in. The mission had been a success, but too easy for Garen's liking. It made him wonder if Swain was onto them and had let them take the diary, or if they were really facing someone so careless, he didn't have guards outside his chambers. Unfortunately, Garen couldn't figure any reasonable answer to these questions out in his head, so he just walked.

Katarina didn't understand how the escape could have been so easy as well. The recent events of her life had told her that Swain didn't know how to slip-up, but she remembered something her father had always taught her: even the best criminals have to slip-up sometime. With that thought in mind, her emotions and mind-boggling scenarios that played over and over in her head seemed to cease.

"Garen… is that light up ahead? Golden light?" she whispered. Both of them were becoming well aware that walking a mile in dress clothes wasn't the best idea.

Garen squinted and looked hard into the distance. Sure enough, the familiar golden light of home flitted back to him. "Yes, Katarina. That looks like golden light to me."

The two trudged along the path to the camp, both at ease in their minds now. The mission had been a success, they had made it out of the city alive, and in about half-an-hour, they would be able to cuddle up next to one another and just sleep proudly. The thought and feeling made the two speed up their pace; as they met the Royal Vanguard in less than twenty minutes.


"WHO COULD HAVE TAKEN IT?!" Swain yelled to his top commanders. None of them moved; none of them broke eye contact with him. "I want every man and woman in this city looking for Katarina Du Couteau. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir!" came the immediate reply.

"She was the only one smart enough to break into my office. It turns out Talon was right. Talon – I want you to go to the people who told you she had returned. I WANT ANSWERS!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. No one moved. No one dared breathe. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? OUT!"

The people shuffled out of his office without another word. When the door was closed, Swain stroked the hair on his chin and stared out into the darkness. The golden light from the Demacian camp filled his eyes as he stared. An idea came to him: one so unjust and rash that he couldn't even imagine Katarina doing it. But, this was Katarina… and he knew at the beginning of their forced relationship that he could not underestimate her.

He laughed to himself. "Oh Katarina, you smart, smart bitch."