Lilium Chapter 14, a league of legends fanfic

A/N: This is going to be a really short one, only from Ashe's point of view. Things are happening in Kat's life, and Ashe has to deal with the pains of loving a possibly psychopathic murderer with a shit ton of burdens.

WARNING: lots of conversation ahead. Like, lots of it. And I didn't really go over it as much as the rest, so it won't be all that great. Just wanna get it off my hands, so I can focus on other works + actually finishing Lilium.

Haruka

Ashe's POV

It has been a week since my indirect confession, and four days since I have last seen my kitty Kat. A lot has happened since then, and I fear I may never see her again.

Four days ago, the city's power station was knocked out by an explosion, Noxus started street fighting for territory, and curfews were set all across the country. Three days ago, the reason for it all came to light: Lord Marcus Du Couteau's death had been confirmed, his body returned to the Du Couteau mansion for burial, and all the smaller gangs were scrambling to get a foothold before the new leader was instated.

Before the dawn of the third day, Noxus had most of the gangs running for their lives, the streets dyed with fool's blood, but Kat still did not return. No one knows if she's ever going to come back, since the throne of Noxus, which had always had her name on it, has officially been vacated. She might be taking it, the job she's trained all her life for, which means that she will not be returning to school, or to her apartment, for that matter. She has actual responsibilities now, and I cannot blame her for abandoning all the pointless things she once played with.

She has no time for that anymore, for slacking around in the back of school classrooms reveling in the fear and disruption she causes just by being present. She has no time for… for whatever it is we had, whatever it is we could have been, and painful as that may be to accept, I have to.

Kat is most probably not going to come back…

"Maybe you should stop coming until the curfew rises, Lady Freljord," the Literature teacher chokes out from her perch in the corner of the empty classroom, "No one else is…"

Indeed, no one is willing to let any of their family members out of sight ever since Noxus started bathing the streets with blood, but I do not want to stay at home. I do not want to rot in a maze of obligations I loathe, painfully reminded of the happiness I once had; I long to cling to a semblance of normality and keep hope pressed tightly to my chest.

"You are rather close with Ms Du Couteau, aren't you?" she continues shrilly when I do not respond, "You would be safer with her. She'd take care of you."

Her words sting, it is like dipping me in salt water while my skin is raw with scratches and lesions, and it takes all my willpower not to react visibly.

"I mean, it is painfully obvious that she cares for you," the teacher babbles on nervously, wringing her small, pale hands as she speaks, "I'm sure she would want you to stay safe while she, uhm, restores order, so to speak."

Screams sound down the road as Noxus' troops weed out yet another small gang's hideout, flinging bombs that rattle the buildings all along the street. The sound of gunfire and clashing metal mixes, the smoky stench of gunpowder floating down with the wind, as the pointless culling reaches a crescendo. More screams, yelps of fear and agony, and then eerie silence. The curtain falls, just like that, leaving more blood and bodies for the police to bury.

"Maybe you should go find her yourself," the teacher spits out, trembling like a leaf, "I'll be leaving now, Lady Freljord. Excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, she scampers down the hall, fingers crossed that a stray bullet or knife or bomb will not cross her path today. I do not blame her, she is a rather flighty thing, idealistic and warm and funny. Reality slays her, I know it does, which is why she buries herself in the wonders of Literature and fiction.

Rising soundlessly from my seat, I slide over to Kat's, running my fingers over the mutilated surface of her desk. Symbols of Noxus are etched deeply into the plastic, mostly done by her friend the metal ruler, and a rather crude drawing of what I assume is Lord Tryndamere dominates the upper right corner of the desk, the entire thing violently crossed out. Strange as it may sound, it warms my heart to see it, to see that Kat cares enough to be truly angry at him.

Just as I am about to resign myself to the walk back to the Freljord mansion, I notice a sentence scratched lightly into the side of the table that touches my own; if I had not moved it, it would have stayed hidden. Curious, I shove the desks further apart to take a closer look.

It is not as deep as the others, written by a more nervous hand, but the words are clear.

Ashe Avarosa Freljord, I pledge you my life.

It is unmistakably Kat's handwriting, the messy but powerful strokes of her characters are as loud as she is, and the realization makes my chest ache. How could I have doubted her? Kat promised, Kat promised that she would help me, and she will not break it. I must have faith; something else must be keeping her.

You fool, have you forgotte—

I am not in the mood for this right now.

You are more foolish that I thought, Freljord. Shut up and hear me out for once. Do you remember Katarina's sister?

Cassiopeia Du Couteau? What about her?

Did you see how crushed she was about her passing? Maybe your Princess is not busy with work, but wounded by the loss of her only remaining family. Have you considered that?

Oh goddess, I am an idiot! Why didn't I think of that sooner? Cold as she may seem, family is important to my kitty Kat, and losing her father must have been a devastating blow. Is she wallowing somewhere, too upset to function?

Go to your Princess, little fool. You of all people should know the agony of being alone.

Thanking my inner voice for the first time in my life, I swing out Kat's favorite window, grip on to the nearby tree and carefully make my way down, determination I never knew I possessed guiding my footsteps through mostly abandoned, bloody streets.

Downtown, the country is uglier than usual, the usual filth and desperation of the area replaced with death and bloodlust. Members of Noxus, the symbol displayed prominently on chests, arms or foreheads, kind of nod to me when I pass them by, but none of them stop me the way they do with other civilians foolish enough to be outside.

Only one of them approaches me, though not for the reason I expected. It is that boy again, the dark eyed one with the Assassin's Creed hood, and he warns me in a quiet voice not to wander around alone as it isn't safe.

"Boss wouldn't like it if you got hurt," he sounds worried, "I don't think she'd be able to take it."

I know right away that the "boss" he speaks of is my kitty Kat, for some strange reason. It feels as if it should be common knowledge, though I know civilians mostly have no idea who the grunts of Noxus are.

"Gossiping again, Talon?" a tall, burly young man marches over, a huge axe slung over his armored shoulder, "Boss would kill you for that."

"She's too upset to kill anything and you know it, Darius."

Sighing, the burly man smacks the boy on the shoulder, but instead of bowling him over as I expected it would, the boy barely moves an inch. Shaking his head slightly, the hulking young man turns to me and says, "Stay safe, kid. If not for yourself, for her."

I nod minutely, muttering a thanks under my breath before continuing on my journey to her dingy apartment. However, before I can get close to the yellowing building, the boy, Talon, calls out to me again, "If you're looking for boss, she's not there. She's been cooped up at HQ for days."

"Where is that?" Asking a gang member about the location of his top-secret headquarters is not the best idea in the world, but I do not care. I want to get to Kat, and I will walk through fire if need be.

The boys exchange looks, before the burly young man, Darius, sighs and says, "We'll take you, kid. Boss trusts you, and that's enough for me."

"Softie," Talon mumbles, elbowing him, but there is a slight edge of fondness there that reminds me of the bond between siblings, or close friends who have been together for many years. I should be able to trust these two, they will not choose to lead me to harm.

The smaller boy leads the way to the gathering area of the patrolling Noxians, calling to the ranks of muscular, middle-aged men and ordering them to keep an eye on the district.

"If anything happens, each of you loses an eye. If it's anything big, you lose your life," he says, and they salute crisply before scurrying to work, obviously frightened of a teenager about half their size. Noxus is a paradox in that way, that the young and small-looking members are usually stronger, more frightening and more deadly than their larger, older counterparts.

"Follow me, be quick but be quiet." With that, the two boys set off like lightning, silently racing through darkened alleyways and bloody roads without the slightest hesitation. Even with my sports background, it is difficult to keep up with them; they clear walls with ease and swing over barbed wire fences as if they were nothing, while I strain every muscle in my body just to keep them in sight.

Finally, panting heavily and a little banged up, I arrive at the doors of an old warehouse not far from the beach, the two boys lounging impatiently and bouncing to their feet when they spot me.

"Took you a while," Talon grumbles, while Darius just smiles at me and presses his palm to the rotting wood, telling me that for a civilian I did a great job keeping up with them.

To my surprise, the wood beeps – Noxus has managed to disguise some recognition-based security system into the building's aged façade – and the door slides open without a sound.

Three heavily armed men glare threateningly from the open doorway, submachine guns aimed and ready to fire, but Talon merely waves them off and enters, motioning me to follow. I obey, trying not to look as terrified as I feel while the door slams shut behind us, effectively trapping me, unarmed, in a room full of gangsters.

Silently, Talon leads us through a series of tunnels, some of which through you can hear the sea, the old wood and battered steel quickly giving way to cement, Plexiglas and fortified metal. I cannot help but be impressed by the vastness of the structure, as well as its intricacy – tunnels branch off in various directions and have many staircases to the surface. How did Noxus construct such an elaborate underground base under the whole damn country without anyone noticing?

"Pretty cool, huh?" Talon asks, sensing my obvious awe, "Noxus started out with the Du Couteau Clan living in abandoned subway tunnels. And now…" He raises both his arms to gesture at the tunnels surrounding us. "Noxus is everywhere."

"You shouldn't say so much to an outsider, Talon," Darius scolds gruffly, shoving his way to the front to take the lead.

Shrugging, Talon responds, "Still bitter that I won the bet?"

"You haven't won yet." Darius doesn't sound as convinced as he should be, and I wonder what sort of bet he lost and what that entails. Typical teenagers would embarrass one another, but Noxians are usually more "hardcore". After all, just three weeks ago, a Noxian gunned down a preschool for Truth or Dare.

"Keep saying that, buddy," Talon cuts in front of him again, tapping him on the shoulder in a mock-comforting manner. "It might help you sleep at night."

At times like these, it is hard to believe that they are gangsters, though; they behave so much like ordinary people. They laugh, they bicker, they get hurt, they look out for each other… they're really not that much different from us. Stronger, more ruthless, maybe, but at our cores we are all still human.

The boys come to a stop outside an elaborately decorated door, marked with clashing blades and carvings of bloodshed and murder. Snapping me out of my thoughts, Darius tells me that Katarina is behind that door, and that I should be careful because she's put a knife in every idiot that has dared to defy her orders by entering the room. Fortunately, none of them have died - Kat doesn't like killing the help as they're hard to replace.

"She's eaten next to nothing," Darius looks very worried now, like an elder brother with a sick baby sister, "And she hasn't been sleeping well either. If you can… please, help her."

Talon echoes the plea before knocking smartly on the metal door, refusing to meet my eyes. It must be hard for an assassin to swallow his pride, accept some things are beyond him and ask for help, considering how much they value independence and solitary strength.

"Boss?" he calls out, knocking again, "Boss, I know you're in there!"

Kat snarls in response, the sound feral and angry and wounded, breaking my heart as she snaps at them to go away and leave her alone.

"C'mon, boss, someone important is here to see you," Talon tries for a cheerful tone, falling rather flat. Kat merely growls that she does not want to see anyone at all, the ensuing sound of speed and power informing us that she has most likely put a knife in the door.

"Please? You'd definitely want to –"

Her tone is cold, deadly and hauntingly hollow, "Go away before I kill you, Talon."

"But –" She does not let him continue, the sound of another knife striking the door cutting into his whine.

Shrugging in defeat, the boy backs away, gesturing to me to give it a try. Blinking back tears, I knock gently against the metal, calling out softly, "Kitty Kat, can I come in?"

The nickname makes the boys' eyes widen, and when there is no furious complaint through the door, they both obviously try to hold back gigantic, goofy grins. Ignoring them, I strain my ears to pick out the soft, disbelieving response, "A-Ashe…?"

"Yeah, it's me," I breathe, positive that she will be able to hear me no matter what, "Can I come in, please?"

There is silence, and then the door swings open to reveal Kat, paler and thinner than I remember her, with bags under her swollen eyes. Worry and relief mixes within me as I throw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck and burying my face in her shoulder, tears already sliding down my cheeks as the boys gasp and splutter.

"Ashe…"

There is warmth in her eyes, swirling alongside fear and pain and loss, and I quickly kick the door shut behind us because I know she will not appreciate showing her weakness before an audience.

Without breaking our embrace, we somehow make it to the large bed, the centerpiece of the room, tumbling into a huge pile of blankets and pillows I assume were accumulated here at Kat's orders. After all, no ordinary person will keep twenty odd pillows and enough blankets to warm every hobo in the "beggars' district" in their bedroom at all times.

Once we have settled comfortably into each other, Kat's arms around my waist, she breaks the silence in a tired voice, "You heard the news?"

I nod, guilt gnawing at the edges of my mind, "I'm sorry it took me so long to come."

Shaking her head, Kat replies, sounding almost pained, "I never expected you to."

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," I reply, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, "You pledged your life to me, didn't you? That means I'm responsible for your wellbeing."

Her skin heats up against my own as she stutters, warm breath tickling my neck, "Y-you saw that?"

I nod, a stupid smile breaking across my face as I reassure her that no it is not creepy, it is actually really sweet and I am positively delighted to be accorded such an honor from a beautiful, kind girl with a heart of gold and a killer aim.

She chuckles lightly, the sound quickly changing into a sob as she chokes out, "I don't deserve you." Before I can protest, she continues, tears soaking her voice, "I don't deserve someone who looks at me the way you do – who thinks I'm a good person when I'm a sadist, a bitch, a… a murderer."

I hate that word, I hate that she has been branded with that label, even though it is the truth. Is that weird?

Swallowing thickly, Kat lifts her head to look me in the eyes, continuing, "I've brought harm to thousands, millions, of people, and I didn't bat an eye. I've crushed those I deemed weaker than myself and felt mercy was granting them death. I… I'm not a knight in shining armor, at best I am a twisted heroine stained in blood chasing a polluted version of justice. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve anything but what I've gotten – pain and loneliness, because that's all I've given."

She refuses to let me cut in, determined to finish what she has to say, "The light you have painted me in is wrong, Ashe. I'm… I'm unforgivable; I've been stained in sins that will never, ever wash away. You can't… you can't care about someone like me. You should be with a proper knight in shining armor, a real hero, not someone like me."

Choking back a sob, I respond as fiercely as I can manage, "I don't care about all that, Kat."

She stares at me with wide eyes as I continue, telling her about how beautiful she is, about how much she has helped me in the short time that we have known each other, about the joy and warmth she has brought me, about the security and deep contentment I feel when she is with me, about… about everything I can say without outright confessing my feelings for her.

Pressing my forehead against hers, I look her squarely in the eye as I conclude, "Don't ever say you don't deserve me, Katarina Du Couteau. You are an amazing, beautiful, sweet person and you deserve to be happy, whether it's with me or with someone else."

We are so close that our tears are mixing, our breaths brushing warmly across the other's lips; oh goddess, I want to kiss her!

Her eyes flutter shut as she leans in, slowly crawling toward me, and I gather my courage to do the same…

"Boss!" a loud hammering at the door causes us to separate, tear-streaked faces flushed with embarrassment, "Boss, we've got trouble!"

"What is it, Talon?" her voice is strong again, the broken, feral edge completely gone, replaced by authority and power and strength.

"Lord Marcus' killer has sent us a message. Publicly." Kat stiffens next to me, her features settling into a hard, angry line. Looking down at me, she tries to smile at my reassuring nod, wiping her face dry with the back of her hand.

"We'll kill him just as publicly." Her body is trembling with the desire to avenge her father, and I gently take her hand to soothe her. "Get Alpha 2 and 4 ready in five."

"Yes boss!"

I cut off the apology I know she will try to say before it escapes her lips, "Go, kitty Kat. And when you're done playing, come back to me."

Once again, she drops on one knee, pressing her lips to the back of my hand. "Your wish is my command, my Lady."

[Later
Gelid Mansion]

Slumped in the corner of a foreign room, wounded, frightened, struggling to breathe, I cling to the warmth of Kat's promise as I swallow my screams, replaying her promise in my head over and over again.