This work was for the League of Kittens Zine, a digital charity zine. You can find them on Twitter.

Darius is exploring a city newly conquered for Noxus and finds a most unlikely new friend - a small kitten.

All around the city lay under a blanket of stillness, the kind that only came after a battle. The forces of the city that had time and again raided their neighbors across the border, the lands he swore to protect, were now thoroughly smashed by the Legion. Those that had remained behind huddled in their homes, waiting to see what came along with the Noxians that now filled their streets.

It had been only hours since they'd cracked open the walls of the city like some stubborn nut. The great war machines of Noxus had finally broken through the layers of stone, leaving rubble in their wake and a hole for their soldiers to enter through. Those that waited no doubt did so in fear, believing the worst was yet to come. Darius knew better though. The enemy soldiers would be given a chance to join the Noxian army and the civilians were now considered Imperial citizens. And no harm against them was intended. It made assimilation smoother and tightened ties between the Empire and its new acquisition.

His commanders now had the situation well in hand, the violence was over and they moved to secure the area around them as the base of operations. He nodded at his second-in-command as he began to move further into the city to survey what they had won. The local Warlord, herself came out in the last stand, her capture ensuring the will to fight had dissipated from the enemy. As for the fortress at the center of the city from which she had ruled, it would see the Noxian banner flying before nightfall.

For now, though, he had time to observe and study, make plans and assessments for how the city could bring the greatest benefit to the Empire. His great axe was returned to the holster on his back, but his countenance remained grim and serious as he walked. The narrow streets wound their way to that fortress at the center that loomed over them, branching off into alleys that seemed to lead nowhere but into deep darkness.

As the hand of Noxus passed one of those darkened passageways, an orange blur rushed out at him. In not more than a breath, he was in a defensive stance, hands instinctively reaching for his axe. The motion to draw the weapon was halted though as felt how small the shape was as it collided with his boot. Looking down, he grunted, not from any pain of the impact, but of annoyance at his errand being delayed. A small, furry thing looked up at him indignantly from where the orange ball had landed.

"Mew."

It declared to him before hissing to bare tiny teeth and leaping onto his boot once again. Darius sighed and moved away, staring at the runty little thing, half-convinced it had been driven mad somehow. No doubt some others would've simply kicked it away, treating it with violence despite its lack of a threat. Though he could be ruthless when in the heat of battle, Darius preferred to avoid cruelty for the sake of cruelty. Even if he could get away with nearly anything given his size and position. So he simply turned and continued on his way.

"Mew!" A puny bit of force collided with the heel back of his boot and he turned back around to scowl at the offender.

"You are starting a fight you cannot win." The words had a familiar ring as he spoke them, they were surely close to something he had said to Draven on more than one occasion. "Just like someone else I know." Squatting down, he extended one gigantic finger in the direction of the orange mess of fur assaulting him.

The ball of ragged fur answered by jumping at his outstretched digit, claws and jaws attempting to latch onto him. Pulling back abruptly, he managed to escape the fury for the most part, but some of those claws had found their mark, tearing ever so slightly into the calloused skin of his finger. "Ow." The boom of his voice startled the little mess and it toppled backwards as it landed. "Yep, just like him."

Laying where it had landed, it began to let out a pitiful cry. The mood of the moment transported him back across the years. Draven was verbally inciting the leader of a group of thugs that also ran the streets of Basilich. Usually, Darius tried to steer clear of them, not wanting any unnecessary trouble. But that day Draven had felt insulted, so he watched from a distance to make sure he didn't get himself in too deep. It wasn't that he couldn't take care of himself in a fight, they had both grown a reputation around the city, but this time he'd picked an opponent nearly twice his size. His hopes proved to be in vain as his younger brother did more and more to bait out the fight. It had ended in one swift punch and he crumpled to the ground, not moving from where he lay. His opponent moved in to strike again and that's when Darius had stepped forward.

His sheer size alone had, in the past, been a deterrent to those Draven had provoked. At that moment though it had looked like there was a real chance he'd have to resort to violence. Standing over his brother, he stared down at his foe. While he was bigger than Draven, Darius still had several inches on him.

"Back off."

His voice was a low growl. For a moment, the other boy looked as though he considered the fight. One hard shove and he was reeling backward while Darius took a fighting stance. His nerves gave way and he turned and left, spitting on the ground towards them. Once he was sure the trouble was gone, he leaned down to help his brother up from the street.

"Except you don't have anyone to back you up in these ridiculous fights that you start, do you?" It stopped crying and tentatively he reached out his hand toward it. A moment later he had scooped the orange ball from the ground and into one of his large hands. Immediately it began to swat his fingers, but this time it was in a gentle, playful manner. "Oh, now you like me?" He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at it.

"You really should have someone to watch out for you." The sad reality was that not many would be willing to take in a scrawny, unkempt, kitten from the streets. Just the same as there were not many who would continue to come to the rescue of their cocky and slightly irritating brother. With a delicate touch that few would know he was capable of, he began to pet it. In his heart, an idea began to take hold, one that his mind quickly tried to shut down. It was a ridiculous notion, dragging the little fluff ball all the way back home. But somehow, he couldn't seem to force himself to put it back down. All he could think about was what would've become of Draven if he hadn't been there throughout the years.

"Mew." It looked up at him, seeming to ask the same question that weighed on his mind.

He sighed, good idea or not, his heart was too far inclined to just let it go.

"If you're going to march with the Noxian army we'll need to get you cleaned up and looking proper." Yellow eyes sparkled up at him as he cradled it delicately, a soft purring emitting from it as though it had come to trust him completely already.

"Alright, let's get back to the others." He turned and began to retrace his path through the city. Those soldiers that saw him were stunned by the sight, but none were bold enough to question it.