Diana waited around til dusk but there was no sign of Leona.
She had stalked the entrance of the Institute, waiting for her to appear, unsuspecting, from a match. There were times when she had almost attacked but it was never to be. Another different, golden clad champion or just a glowing reflection from the fires by the doorway. Just more bitter resentment to add to the tension. It was as if Leona were taunting her, unknowingly. Making a fool of her with this cat and mouse game.
What a foolish mouse.
She should know that there is no other way. There will be only one ending and the mouse will realise it cannot hide forever.
The thin sliver of the sun had finally dipped under the horizon when the doors opened one last time as she prowled around the entrance. Diana readied her blade.
It could only be her.
Everyone else had left, they will lock the doors soon and it was now or never. Even if it wasn't she didn't care, agitation was setting in. If it wasn't Leona, well, consider the Institute lucky that they had one less champion to manage.
The sound of armour clad footsteps neared the doorway.
A glimpse of golden armour and that was more than enough reason – she lunged.
She had expected to feel her blade digging into soft flesh, cleanly slicing through the vulnerable throat. Instead there was a loud clash of metal on metal and her blade caught in the hooked spires of a large lance as her prey parried her blow. The sound reverberated through the cold night.
"Who dares to attack me?" An authoritative male voice.
She cursed. Today was not to be it seemed.
Diana withdrew her blade but was unexpectedly met with resistance when he twisted his lance, locking her blade in his.
"Diana."
Jarvan lowered his weapon and in turn, pushed hers down. The glimpse of golden she'd seen had been from his damn armour, extravagant thing that it is. Such an unwieldy and cumbersome thing to wear for battle compared to hers.
He eyed her expectantly for an explanation - one usually better have a damn good reason for attacking a Demacian Prince. She wasn't going to grant him one - not if she could help it, nosey nuisance that he is.
"You're not the one I want."
She tried again to remove her blade. He glared at her. With a swift thrust, he speared his weapon into the ground, pinning down her blade. The Institute summoners were most definitely not going be impressed at the sizeable hole on their front steps.
"Explain your actions, Diana." He took a step forward, a figure of rightful authority and intimidation. Typical. All big words and no stuffing, a figurehead through and through. Always with their brandishing of brute strength and damned justice and all that.
Demacians.
"I do not need to explain to you, Prince. This does not concern you." She stepped towards her blade but he barred her with his arm. Diana glared at him.
Troublesome fool.
"Return me my weapon." She demanded, stepping up to him and challenging his glare.
If she couldn't acquire Leona today then Jarvan may suffice. At this rate, he could make for a decent sacrifice and it'll probably sate her denied thirst for a while. She shook herself mentally and pushed away that thought. However tempting and easy it could be, he was the Prince after all and Demacia probably wouldn't take too kindly at having their heir to the throne becoming a quartered corpse. Not to mention he still had her weapon at this moment.
"Diana. Jarvan."
She tensed as Jarvan turned to the voice – she hadn't heard him approaching. What was he doing here?
"Varus." Jarvan greeted him stiffly before turning back to Diana whilst she ignored him.
Varus, on the other hand, was indifferent to her coldness, walking up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You're late, Diana." She tried to shrug him off but his grip was firm and unyielding. Steering her a little away from Jarvan, he subtly leant in and whispered.
"Play along."
His attitude… Such an insufferable gentleman that he is, she thought sarcastically. She managed to shrug off his hand - rather forcefully – before turning back to Jarvan.
"I know, I got caught up in something." She glowered at Jarvan on the last word. Varus chuckled, much to her irritation. She stiffened as he slid his arm around her waist. He was talking 'helping' a little too far…
"If you please, Jarvan, she has a… meeting to attend to." His voice was causal but there was a steely, if not threatening, undertone to it.
"And she is already late. So if you will excuse us…" His voice trailed off as he threw a glance towards her lodged blade. When Jarvan made no move he offhandedly tilted his bow, as if amused by it's flaring tendrils as they stirred before glancing to him.
Jarvan gave a dissatisfied grunt before grasping the hilt and dislodging his lance, the crescent blade clattering to Diana's feet.
"So be it." He eyed them warily.
"Thank you" she replied as she bent to snatch up her blade and extract herself from his arm in a fluid motion. She threw them a glare before turning and briskly leaving.
Varus gave him a curt nod before following her departure down the stairs as well.