Jarvan was beginning to feel trapped by the walls that encircled the Du Couteau Estate. While he greatly appreciated what Katarina was doing for them, it was nerve wracking to be stuck in the middle of the enemy camp, relying on someone who should have been an enemy to keep you safe. He had mulled it over multiple times, and while he had never been able to find any ulterior motive, he still had to wonder about just what was going on here in Noxus at the moment. Something big was coming and he didn't like it. He was cut off from the world in here.
The cool night air caressed his skin as he stood upon the stone balcony, the waxing moon casting an eerie blue light over the darkened city, lazy trails of smoke spindling up into the clouds across the sky. Jarvan raised his hands out before him, keeping them both level, watching as his left arm, the one that had been injured at the shoulder, trembled ever so slightly. He formed a fist, working the muscles in his arm as he flexed it gently, wincing as he did. He sighed, turning back into the room.
Jarvan picked his lance up off the banister it had rested against, the weight seeming heavier than before as he returned to the balcony. He lifted it with one hand, grunting a bit as he did. He brought the lance up to the point where it was horizontal to the ground, raising his left leg up and striking out with a kick at chest level. He followed through with a strike using the butt of the lance, immediately following the high kick as he planted his foot with a lunging strike using the butt of his lance. He brought his right foot forward, swinging the lance out and around in a sweeping attack at waist height, a frown on his face when the blow dropped a bit further than he wanted.
He brought his feet together, bringing the tip of the lance down and spinning it upwards a few times, letting the blade spin before him, the rush of the blade through the still night air a reassuring sound. As the tip of the blade crested the top of its circle for the third time, Jarvan grasped it in his right hand and heaved it upwards across his body, letting the weight of the blade lift him as he pushed off the ground. He felt his body get wrenched about as he flipped over his shoulder, the blade carrying him through a three hundred and sixty degree arc to land on one foot, the blade coming down behind him. He let the blade slip into his left hand, his shoulder screaming, but he ignored the pain, spinning the blade down behind his back. He pulled his right hand around his body, catching the blade as it spun out of his hand, twirling about another two times before Jarvan had to plant the butt of the lance on the ground to stop the spin.
The sound of the metal striking the paving slabs of the smooth patio made a chunk sound that sent a bit of a shock up Jarvan's arm. He breathed deeply, the familiar weight of the lance reassuring in his hand. He spun his left arm around its full range of motion, frowning at the pain he felt. It wasn't much but it was just enough to cause him discomfort as he let it drop to a resting position.
"Something on your mind?" The husky tone of a sleep deprived Shyvana was more than enough to send electricity through the prince's veins. He must have jumped visibly, because she chuckled softly, seamlessly hiding a yawn in the same motion.
"Hmm?" Jarvan murmured, looking over his shoulder, still trying to hide his surprise. Shyvana raised an eyebrow, watching him from the door jamb.
"Sleep doesn't exactly come easy for me either." Shyvana murmured, drifting closer, sitting on the end of his bed, her legs dangling off the edge, her toes only just barely touching the ground. "It seems so peaceful, and yet there is a malevolence in the air that unsettles me..." She sighed, leaning against the bedpost, closing her eyes, her breathing slow and deep.
"You sure that's not just Talon watching over us like the hawk that he is?" Jarvan asked in the dim light with a lean smile. Shyvana looked surprised, a wry grin worming its way into her mask of mock horror. She giggled, again breaking into a yawn that she attempted to hide with a hand.
"And what's got you wound up so tight?" Shyvana asked, stepping up from the bed, raising her arms above her in a languid stretch that caused her toes to curl. Jarvan noted that the night gown she wore wasn't entirely opaque, the moonlight casting shadows of her silky form beneath the thin fabric. Taut muscles and silken skin rippled over her small but powerful frame, tightening and then loosening as she lowered her arms, catching his gaze. "See something you like?"
Jarvan's face burned red as he turned away, facing the city. "Just... admiring the view." Jarvan toned quietly. Shyvana chuckled, approaching him. She slithered her arms around his chest and hugged him, the swell of her chest pressed against his back as she sighed contently.
"You can look all you want." Shyvana said quietly as heat rushed to her cheeks. "I don't mind." She stayed there for a few minutes, her deep breaths a calming sound to the prince, her presence bringing him comfort. "Your heart beat... it's calming." She said quietly, breathing in his scent deeply. Jarvan sighed, resting a hand upon hers as she snaked his fingers into her own, intertwining them. He raised her hand to his face, kissing it gently, holding her hand there for a few moments.
"It seems so calm here, but we're trapped in the middle of a hostile city." Jarvan said calmly. Shyvana's embrace fell away slowly, the dragoness letting her hands drag against one of his many scars. "I feel like at any moment we could die. Here we are in the house of a Noxian General, leeching off the hospitality of his daughter. I, a Demacian Prince..." He shivered. "To think what my father would do if he ever discovered this." Shyvana rested her hands over Jarvan's on the lance, her skin soft to the touch.
"Your father is King of Demacia, isn't he?" Shyvana said quietly, examining the lance he held. She had held it dear to her for days, her only connection to the prince she had believed dead. "That's why you're called prince?"
Jarvan nodded. "He resides over the city state of Demacia, and all of its lands. I am his heir to the throne." Shyvana looked up at him, her magenta eyes almost a deep purple in the blue moonlight. She wore a small frown.
"I suppose I never thought about it like that." She paused, shaking her head. "I never truly put it in perspective..." She took the lance from him, lifting the heavy weapon up and leaning it against the vanity next to his bed. "For a while I wondered if it was just a nickname your men called you by."
"No, it's a title." Jarvan said, stretching, having to smother a yawn of his own this time. A shiver ran down his spine as a cool breeze rushed across his skin. "Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV, heir to House Lightshield and the throne of Demacia. It sounds hollow and distant now, as if it were some kind of dream, but it used to hold some meaning with me." He paused. "And I suppose in time, that meaning will return." He paused against, closing his eyes and raising his face to the sky, letting the breeze caress his skin.
"Would you like me to call you prince as well?" Shyvana asked, approaching him from the side and looking up at him with big eyes. Jarvan snorted, chuckling. Shyvana watched him for a moment, a rueful expression on her face. "What?"
"It's nothing." Jarvan shook his head as he wrapped his arms around the dragoness. She seemed surprising frail when out of her armor, her tender skin pale and delicate. He was almost afraid to break her if he squeezed her too hard, but he knew well enough that she could take any punishment and dish out even more. She was deceptively strong, taking on multiple opponents many times her size, and her reactions were lightning fast from growing up in a hostile environment like Shurima. "To you, it is merely Jarvan." He paused momentarily. "Prince Jarvan if we ever make it to court."
"You plan to court me?" Shyvana mused, raising an eyebrow slyly at him, pearly white teeth gleaming in the darkness. Jarvan laughed again, the rueful expression returning to her face. She slipped from his embrace.
"Apologies." Jarvan said, shaking his head, running a hand through his long black hair, clearing it from his face.
"Jerk." Shyvana said playfully, crossing her arms over her chest, puffing out her cheek dejectedly. Most would have seen the expression as one to cause regret, but Jarvan saw it as the growing sense of humanity and life within Shyvana. She was growing more and more used to society, rapidly adapting to human mannerism, and becoming more willing to show them off, though he had noticed she kept them bottled up around other people, putting on a menacing air that hid her softer, more vulnerable side.
"I will in time." Jarvan said, rolling his neck, yawning. "But I meant the Royal Court in Demacia." His face suddenly grew more sullen. Shyvana turned from where she had been pretending to look angry, slightly surprised that Jarvan had suddenly fallen silent. He glanced out the window with a brooding expression, his face a hard mask, the gentle smile gone.
"Jarvan?" Shyvana called softly, reaching out towards him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, blinking a few times and then letting his face soften. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"The court at Demacia will prove interesting." Jarvan said haggardly. He yawned, hiding his mouth with a hand as he exhaled heavily. He didn't say anything further, but Shyvana could read the worry in his eyes and shoulders.
I am a foreign peasant and a half-beast. Shyvana brushed some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Their time together here might not last. When they made it to Demacia, things might not work out. The thought was scary, but with Jarvan... she shook her head, feeling her hair bounce around her. Things will work out.
Jarvan tossed himself onto the bed, the thick mattresses bouncing slightly under his weight as he flopped face down into his pillow. He rolled over and lay back on the bed, closing his eyes, his chest rising and falling, an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth. A smaller bounce on the mattress told him that Shyvana had sat down next to him. He felt the play of her soft hand against his stomach, caressing his skin.
"It won't get any easier, will it?" Shyvana asked softly. She laid her hands upon his chest, her chin resting upon the top of her hands. Jarvan peeked down at her, and then let his head fall back, his chest heaving in a long sigh.
"I'm afraid it really won't." Jarvan said heavily. "Demacia... it will provide difficulties of a much different magnitude." Shyvana felt a shiver go through his body.
"I don't want to be a burden to you..." Shyvana said softly. "I'll understand if-..."
"No!" Jarvan said abruptly, propping himself up on one arm. The surprised look on Shyvana's face matched his own surprise at his outburst. He took a moment and composed himself. "No. You aren't-won't-be a burden to me." He growled, anger edging into his voice. "I refuse to let you think of yourself as a burden." Shyvana smiled up at him, reaching up and touching his face with a hand. His expression softened, the anger melting away. Shyvana got up from where her legs were curled beneath her, and leaned over him, pressing a fingertip to his lips.
"As my prince commands." Shyvana said, a smile playing spitefully upon her lips. She pressed into him, kissing him deeply. Jarvan breathed in her spicy scent, the heat and power she radiated almost intoxicating. As she withdrew back, she laid against his chest, one hand tucked under her chin, the other stretched across his chest as she curled into his side. "Can I stay here? Just like this?" Shyvana sighed contently, snuggling her head down against his chest. "Just for tonight?"
"Of course." Jarvan said quietly. Jarvan couldn't help but smile as he let his head fall back against the pillow, realizing just how exhausted he was. Sleep was not far off, descending upon him like a thick blanket.
Jarvan woke with a start, his eyes flying open, keeping his body perfectly still. The warm presence next to him was absent, and his heart beat immediately quickened. Shyvana's absence may have woken him, but that was not what caused his hair to stand up on the back of his neck. Hushed tones floated through the window, carried by the breeze in the night air. He couldn't make out any of their words, but he could hear the voices get hushed again. Jarvan raised his head, looking up into the room, watching the curtains that hung over the doorway to the balcony blowing gently in the breeze.
His lance was where Shyvana had left it, so he could assume that they had yet to make their way into the room. Anyone with an ounce of sense would have disarmed him, but in this case, the lance would hardly be appropriate. Jarvan slowly crept from bed, letting the silken sheet slide off of him. He shivered as the breeze coming from the window caressed his bare chest. He slid the drawer on the vanity open, sliding a sheathed knife out, the sound of the sliding wood inaudible over the gently flapping of the curtains. He slid the belts around his shin, fastening it into place before he crept towards the door, keeping himself pressed against the wall, doing his best to be silent. He stood perfectly still, listening for the voices to come again.
"...and you're sure that you're sure this is the place?"
"Of course I'm sure that I'm sure. This damned house is impossible to miss."
"They're asleep right now, so what do we do?"
"Slit their throats, of course. Swain failed to have them killed, so now she wants us to do it."
"Fine, let's just get it done."
Jarvan unsheathed the knife, holding the darkened steel blade by the grip. The sound of muffled footsteps clambering over the low stone wall of the balcony seemed to echo around the room. The clink of a metal weapon hitting stone told Jarvan that they carried larger weapons upon their belts, and probably knives in their hands. He waited a few seconds, and grinned, tight lipped, as he was proved right. The blade of a knife preceeded a hand as it gently drew the curtains aside. A hooded head appeared, moving slowly into the room, their attempts to stay crouched down causing them to make more noise than necessary.
Amateur.
Jarvan brought the butt of the knife down, hard, upon the base of the man's neck, instantly knocking him out. He caught him as he fell forward, drawing him into the room and around the corner in a single fluid motion.
"Is it done?"
"You tell me." Jarvan said softly, stepping into the doorway. The man looked surprised as Jarvan stepped forward. He barely stood up to Jarvan's nose and he yelped in surprise, his eyes getting drawn to the blade. Though he could see no blood, he automatically assumed the worst and turned and bolted, hopping over the stone wall. His foot caught on the sill though and he tumbled into the bushes below, scrambling to his feet and sprinting for the wall. Jarvan smirked, watching the man run in a straight line towards the closest section of wall.
Jarvan tossed the knife into the air, the blade flipping end over end, and he caught it between his thumb and forefinger, immediately snapping the blade back over his shoulder and letting it fly. While not as graceful as he intended it to be, the blade flew straight and true, glittering end over end several times before it struck home. The man crashed to the ground, tumbling end over end in a cloud of dust.
The door cracked behind him, and Shyvana stepped in, a surprised look on her face when she spotted the man lying on the ground.
Katarina appeared behind her, her red hair tousled about, her green eyes glimmering coldly in the night. "What was that?" She hissed, following Shyvana into the room. She wore a simple tunic and a pants that was belted with string around her waist, the cuff of which drug along the floor, the other rolled up to her knee. She laid eyes upon the man who lay face down on the ground as she yawned. "Friend of yours?"
"I was going to ask you that." Jarvan said, drawing the curtain back.
"I wasn't expecting company, no." Katarina frowned. "You didn't kill him did you?"
"This one, no." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Can't say the same for his friend."
"Get the body." Katarina said. "Shyvana, help me move this one."
Shyvana glanced at Jarvan, but he watched Katarina for a moment before grunting. Jarvan nodded to Shyvana, turning and trotting out onto the balcony, sliding over the railing and dropping to the ground. He trotted out the body and smiled. The knife was buried all the way to the haft, and it took some effort to tug free, wiping the blood on the man's tunic before sheathing the blade. Jarvan hefted the man, tossing him up over his shoulder and moving back to the building. He mounted the stone wall and hit the ground heavily, the extra weight causing his knees to sink. He paused, not sure what to do with the body, but Shyvana appeared and waved him forward from the doorway. Jarvan nodded and followed her to the parlor, where Talon stood with a tarp laid upon the ground. Jarvan laid the man upon the ground, accepting a towel from Shyvana with which he set about cleaning the blood off his chest.
"Care to explain this?" Talon said crossly, kneeling over the man, pulling off the mask he wore. The man was utterly average looking.
"I'm quite curious as well." Katarina said, smothering a yawn with a hand. Shyvana glanced at Jarvan, fire in her eyes, anger that someone would dare attack them. Jarvan made short work of explaining the situation, detailing their whispers and the mention of Swain and how they had mentioned a 'she' being the one who ordered the strike.
"Rather unprofessional." Katarina said, scratching the bottom tip of the scar that crossed her left eye.
"Their gear is top notch, though." Talon said, wearing his perpetual frown. "Most of it looked brand new. They either just bought the gear, or more likely they were just given it." He examined the blades curiously, and then turned to Jarvan. "What do you make of this?" He slid the blade into its sheath and then handed it off to the Demacian Prince.
"Shouldn't Katarina-Miss Du Couteau- look at it?" Jarvan added the more formal title after the receiving a scowl from the hooded assassin. "I know little about knifes other than basic maintenance."
"Take a look, first." Talon said gruffly, standing up. "You'll probably recognize it." Jarvan frowned but pulled the blade from its sheath and his face went blank. He could hardly believe his eyes.
"These are..." Jarvan blew a breath out, a frown settling on his face.
"Demacian Steel." Talon said nodding. "Much finer quality stuff than most anything you could buy off the street in Noxus."
"Military grade?" Katarina asked, looking at the blade.
"No, much finer quality steel than that." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head. The Demacian symbol had been pressed into the bottom of the blade, and the swirling colored pattern on the blade was a product of layering several hundred thin pieces of dissimilar metals together during the forging process. There were only a few smithies who made steel of this quality, all but one Jarvan knew of living within the city-state proper of Demacia. The other lived within Demacia's borders, but that smithy had long retired his craft. It was irrelevant though, Jarvan vaguely recognized the pattern he had once seen in Demacian High Command. He couldn't be sure, but the blade was far too familiar to their unique style be a coincidence. "I don't know exactly who made this blade but I have an idea. How it got here however, I don't know." Jarvan frowned as he accepted the blade back from Katarina, sheathing it carefully. He looked at the blade silently for a few moments, a dangerous feeling sinking into his stomach.
"Something dangerous is brewing in Noxus, prince." Talon said, shaking his head, his cloak rustling as he did. "And I don't think you want to be here when it boils over."
"Agreed." Jarvan said, frowning. He turned to Shyvana, who simply nodded at him. He turned to Katarina, who watched him warily. "How soon do you think it would be safe to leave?"
She shrugged. "Patrols are still heavy about the city over towards where your princess caused all that ruckus the other night." Jarvan frowned, but Katarina showed no signs of regret at her nickname for Shyvana. "And they seem to think that you descended a much further than you actually did. They're searching the outer parts of the city where you would have landed if you had missed the estate, and they've been sending guards outside the walls on scouting parties in that direction as well." She paused. "I did my best to draw the attention of High Command away, but apparently someone has an idea otherwise."
"I appreciate all of this." Jarvan said, nodding. "I don't know what we would've done had we landed anywhere else."
"Just remember your side of the bargain." Katarina said, watching him still. Jarvan nodded, then tossed her the blade.
"If I do find anything, this will help you get into the city." Jarvan said. Katarina grinned slyly. "But only on my word." Jarvan grinned, equally cold. "Flash that blade expecting to get into the city and you'll be jailed immediately, if not promptly executed."
"And here I thought all Demacian were dim-witted slobs." Katarina said, matching his smile, albeit tight lipped. "Shall we wake our friend here and see what he has to say?"
Talon nodded, took a cup of water from the sideboard, and dumped it on the wannabe assassin's head. The man spluttered and coughed, sitting upright and looked about, his brown eyes darting nervously back and forth from the imposing view of Jarvan, Katarina and Talon all standing over him, grim looks upon their faces.
"Awww shit." He groaned.
"Don't be like that." Katarina said, a sweetness so bitter that it caused Jarvan to shiver. "We just want to ask you a few questions."
"I won't say a thing!" The man said, defiantly. There was hesitation in his voice, as if he was scared of those who stood around him, but was more scared of someone else.
"I really don't want to get my furniture dirty, so why don't you make it easy on us." Katarina said. "Or if you like we can lay you down next to your friend and we can see how long you last when we start peeling your skin back."
He went a ghostly white, and the sound of him gulping could be clearly heard through the room. "I... I can't say." He glanced nervously to the ground.
"Maybe I can convince you." Shyvana said, her voice sultry as she leaned over the back of the couch, her arms squishing her chest together. The man looked over his shoulder than immediately looked at his lap, his face turning bright red. Jarvan crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to hide his own surprise. Katarina looked as if she was doing all that she could not to burst into a fit of laughter after watching Jarvan.
"I-... I... can't." He shook his head. "I shouldn't." He tried to sneak a peek back at her cleavage and just about jumped out of his skin, his shriek of terror nearly propelling him straight out of his seat. Katarina snickered, and Jarvan shook his head, trying not to laugh. Shyvana had begun to transform, leaving a massive blue scaled claw upon his shoulder. Seven inch, razor sharp claws raked his skin ever so slightly, cutting some of the fabric.
"All right!" The man said, pushing himself into the arm of the couch, his voice quivering. "All right! Just get that monster away from me!" Jarvan growled, but he kept it in check.
"Do you have any idea what you were sent to do?" Katarina asked. The man shriveled up his nose, still fidgety, glancing over his shoulder at Shyvana every few seconds.
"We were paid to kill two people, a man and a woman." He said slowly, frowning. "We were shown a map and blueprints, and directed to a certain room." He shook his head. "That's all we were told. We were given the weapons to use and leave behind, and then paid handsomely."
"And who was it that sent you to do this?" Katarina asked, leaning forward, placing her boot between the man's legs on the couch. He was still deathly white, and he looked immensely conflicted.
"I'm going to regret this." He muttered. "Her name was L-..." His voice froze in his throat, a wild look on his face. He clawed at his throat, Katarina taking a nervous step back as he thrashed about. His face turned purple, his tongue hanging from his mouth as he gurgled. He stood, tripping over the edge of the couch, crashing onto an end table and sent a vase crashing to the floor at Jarvan's feet. He twitched on the floor for a few seconds before finally falling still.
"Okay... what the hell was that?" Jarvan muttered, still blinking.
"Constriction charm... I think." Talon growled, shaking his head. He kneeled next to the body, checking the neck for a pulse, shaking his head. "He's gone. It's a type of black magic cast upon prey that can is activated by the person wearing it be it by word or action. It seems he didn't know about it."
"Someone really didn't want their name getting out." Katarina said, frowning. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Things are getting out of hand much faster than I had hoped."
"What do you want to do, Mistress Du Couteau?" Talon asked.
"Strip the bodies and dump them in the river." Katarina snapped. "I was going to suggest you two might want to leave during the day tomorrow, but whoever sent these assassins are going to notice they're gone."
Jarvan nodded grimly. "We should get ready." He said to Shyvana. She nodded, looking at both Talon and Katarina, and then turned, heading for the door.
"A moment, prince." Talon said. Shyvana froze, turning, a look on her face that caused Jarvan to shiver.
"I'll be fine." Jarvan said calmly. "I'll be right behind you." Shyvana paused, silent, but nodded, leaving the room.
"Here." Talon said, handing him the matching knife to the one Katarina carried. "In case the smithy that made these blades proves to have conveniently forgotten about them."
Jarvan grinned, nodding. "Thanks." He said, examining the blade briefly. He looked at the blade, still frowning at the weapon. Demacian craftsman usually stamped their weapons in such a manner, but they were rare one weapons of this quality.
"Another thing." Katarina said. "I heard talk among a few officers that they have your armor, as well as your princess's held at one of the armories in the city." Jarvan blinked. In the days following his capture and then the subsequent attempt at an execution, he had completely forgotten about Darius confiscating his armor. "Both were taken as evidence after you escaped, where they got hers I'm not entirely sure. If you want, I can show you where they're being stored." Jarvan paused, the thought of breaking into one of the Noxian Armories was both dangerous and tempting.
"I appreciate it." Jarvan said nodding. He took the map that Talon held out for him.
Talon grunted as he got to his feet. "There is a door along the back wall, under a rose bush, that leads out onto a mostly deserted side alley. You can use that."
Jarvan nodded again, and turned towards the door. He paused. "I really appreciate all the help you've given us." He said, his back still toward them. "I'll repay my debt, don't worry."
"See that you do." Katarina said with a smirk. Jarvan disappeared down the hallway, his long strides carrying him towards his waiting companion.
"Want me to watch them, Mistress?" Talon said, frowning.
"At a distance." Katarina crossed her arms again, sighing. "I want to know what the hell is going on. The more that it involves those two, the more I'm sure my father got wrapped up in this somehow and Demacia is involved." She shook her head, turning away. "I need a drink."
Talon snorted as he looked down at the two bodies. "You're telling me."