"Why are you following me?"
The dark trees lining the path stretched out into the darkness, silhouetted against the rising moon's light. Night had fallen and the first stars were dotting the sky as little pinpoints of light lit up in the distance where the champion residencies were. Gravel crunched under her footsteps as she made her way back towards them, blade trailing by her side. If it weren't for her senses, attuned by the battlefields, she wouldn't have been able to tell she was being tailed. As such, she could make out - barely discernibly - the faint crunch of soft footsteps some distance behind her, the shift in the air, the very faint yet now familiar musky scent.
Diana halted and she heard his steps come to a slow as he neared her.
"If you dare…"
The footsteps behind her slowed down, only a slight scuff, a slight shifting noise indicated where he had halted – not an arm's breadth away.
"…come a little closer."
A challenge, perhaps. After whiling away a fruitless day of waiting she felt like 'playing' and he was irking her.
The silence stretched out as she waited for his move. Rustling leaves and the white noise of the night diluted out other sounds and the soft wind distorted them but she heard the sound she was waiting for – a small shift of gravel underfoot.
In a blink she reeled around with an unexpected sweeping slash, the only forewarning of her attack a slight flutter in the air. Swift and deadly, a blow designed to kill, an assassinating strike through and through. If he thought her challenge was an offhanded joke then tough luck – she was never one to joke on threats. His fault for following her.
The only sound was a muffled thunk as her blade struck, but not the intended target – he had parried her strike with his bow. Parried, but reactively and clumsily; the sharp edge of her blade a few millimeters from his uncovered arm.
The corner of her mouth twitched up. There was much one could tell through their weapons, especially against another's. Even if his was a strange bow not meant for melee combat it spoke much of its wielder. Reasonable skill in blocking her strike although she could feel him straining to keep it blocked. Not used to defensive measures but always on guard. Reflexes sharp.
The tendrils along where her blade dug in flared, as if incensed.
Amusing. An adept marksman yet refrained. Controlled. She kept her force on her blade for a few more seconds, feeling the wavering of his arm to keep it blocked, before withdrawing it in a swift flick.
"Quick reflexes."
Varus lowered his arm, unconsciously brushing his bow when her blade had cut it. The gouge left in it quickly disappeared as the purple oily substance flowed over it, returning it to its original swirling appearance.
"You have to be quick to survive." He stated simply. "You should know better than anyone."
Diana gave a humph of disregard for the connotations there, turning back down the path. Varus followed beside her, seemingly indifferent to her rather cold attitude towards him. She did not bother to pursue down his line of conversation; it was of no use anyways and of no notable interest. For the few words they'd exchanged until know, it seemed that he liked to leave things vague. Or with a subliminal questioning undertone at least, from his answers.
A large gust of wind picked up, violently rustling the foliage of the trees surrounding them and drowning them for a second in white noise. Leaves and gravel tumbled erratically along the path, the chilling breath of air stirring up the shrubbery lining the trodden path in billowing waves. Diana's long hair blew out in front of her in a mess and the flaps of her outfit fluttered in the breeze as the gust gave one last puff of wind before dying down, imparting on them the nights silence once again.
Picking a leaf out of her hair, she ran her hand through it, readjusting the head bands before untangling her hair and smoothing it out again. Glancing to the side, Varus was in a similar process as her, casually brushing his fringe back to the side, the wind having swept it over his face. His eyes met hers and he held her gaze for a second – a second too long - before shifting up as he lifted his hand, reaching it towards her cheek. Diana flinched instinctively, her arm halfway up to bar him before realising he wasn't aiming to touch her.
A small chuckle escaped his lips at her reaction as he carefully removed a twig that she had missed still entangled in her hair. He held it in front of her - the expression on his face that of amusement - as if to say 'What did you think I was going to do?'
Diana scowled for a second, brushing her hand through her hair again unconsciously. She paused, glaring daggers at him before exhaling; relenting him and quickly turn back down the path.
So… frustrating? It was hard to describe the sort of alluring irritation he elicited.
As with before, Varus followed along beside her silently, keeping pace with her.
Strangely enthralling yet annoying would be the closest way to describing it.
For a while the only sound was the rhythmic tread of two sets of footsteps and the occasional intercepting of a soft hoot or a faraway howl from the natives of the forest. Leaves rustled quietly, like the whisperings of the trees in the background and every little sound was amplified by the heavy silence pressing down on them.
He was a stranger by all definitions but yet… familiar. Something, there was something about him. Like a resonation - an echo - that reminded her of…
...her.
It was a while before Diana spoke up again.
"Before…"
The absence of noise and quiet of the night amplified her voice, the word cutting the silence, coming out louder and harsher than she had intended. Diana halted and cleared her throat before continuing again, adjusting her voice a little softer.
"That… It was not of any concern to you." She glanced at him, slightly curious.
"Why did you intervene?" Under the moonlight he looked even paler than when she first saw him, shadows cast across his angular cheekbones. A few stray strands of white hair had managed to escape his ponytail.
Varus fingered his bow - as if musing, the corner of his mouth twitching up.
"A damsel in distress, how could I not intervene?" he joked, twirling his bow. He glanced at her, chuckling at the scathing glare she threw him, obviously not amused at his answer.
Diana turned around swiftly, marching off down the path at an increased speed. Should have known better than to try and get a proper answer out of him, why did she even bother? Never mind now, she didn't want to know anymore. And her unmissable dissatisfaction at him still did not seem to deter him any bit. Brave or foolish Diana couldn't tell. But somehow he knew all the right strings to pull to annoy her.
"You did not seem too happy to see me back there." He caught up to her in a few long strides, slinging his bow against his shoulder as he effortlessly kept pace beside her again. Maybe she shouldn't have set the ball rolling.
"Or did I interrupt something between you two?" A small smirk played on his lips.
She continued to ignore him, or at least attempt to. They were passing through a clearing now, where the trees thinned out and the moonlight shone through, illuminating him. Strangely, the purple substance that coated half his body was surprisingly intriguing to observe, especially so under the moonlight now. The writhing and occasional flaring of a tendril almost had a hypnotic effect, like the swirling colours on a bubble film. She knew better than to ask him about it - that much she would respect. Even if it was intriguing and so blatantly strange, somehow she felt it would be a sensitive subject. If he wanted to tell then that was up to him.
When she didn't reply, Varus continued on.
"My my, I didn't imagine that he would be your type." The connotation in his jibe was hard to miss. Scratch that about the respect, she should just stick with being annoyed at him at the way he's going.
"I do not care for fools like him." She snapped, finally responding to him. Diana refrained from continuing on to rebut that Jarvan was definitely not her type. No need to give him a shovel to help dig her a grave.
"And I did not need your help back there." She added as an afterthought, cold sarcasm dripping on the word 'help'. Maybe she should just revert back to her original scorn for him. She edged a little away from him as a flicker of that… weird purple substance brushed across her armour from his bow.
"Well…" he drew out the pause, cocking his head to the side to regard her.
"What was the lovely Scorn of the Moon doing outside the Institute at such a late hour?" She ignored his choice of title for her as she turned to face him.
The markings around his eyes seemed darker than his morning. No, darker than just before, when she had stolen a sideways glace at him. Strange, maybe she didn't notice before. Perhaps it was just the lighting.
"What were you doing at such a late hour then?" She retaliated with her own question. Such an intrusive bother, why did ask all these questions? And why was he still walking with her?
"Going to pick you up for the 'meeting' of course." He chuckled again as she flashed him an annoyed glare. When he didn't divulge a real answer she raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"You have something to hide…?" it was hard to miss her acerbic intonation on the last word. He grinned faintly.
"It was a nice evening. I felt like…" The tendrils writhed across his body as his arm tensed for a second "…taking a walk around." He absentmindedly gave his bow a pat.
"I don't believe you were out for the same reason though, were you?" He was quick to change the subject back.
"No."
"Then…?"
"That does not concern you."
There was a short pause of silence as if it were a complex answer and he needed to contemplate it for a little.
"…You were waiting for… someone?" Bullseye. It was not like it was of any concern of his.
He... he wouldn't understand.
She turn back to face forward. Somehow the dense trees lining the path were noticeably more interesting to look at now.
Varus seemed content with her silence though, or at least expected her evasion to the question. The quiet dragged on as they continued walking down the path, occasional glimpses of the moon shining through the dense foliage lining this part of the road.
It was… strange. That he didn't press on and ask more. After all he seemed so intent in asking her all these annoying questions. His questions before irked her yes but why didn't he press on here? It was like well… he knew when silence spoke more than words would. Tact?
Most people… most people asked so much, always offhandedly. In small talk and when they first meet her and when conversation was necessary. It was all just common rituals, ask about their day, how they are, about their family or their past. Like they wanted to know about her, like they cared about her past. As if she were a fascinating specimen. Even when she answered, it was always the same response. They "mmm'ed" and "ahh'ed" like they understood but it was obvious they never did.
His questions were like the others but they were different. It was like he didn't care – like the others – yet at the same time, it felt like he was genuinely… interested. In what though, there was nothing to be of interest here. And his silence. It spoke differently. It was… conflicting. Like he cared about her answers yet, at the same time, didn't.
Like he was interested but at the same time... not?
I feel bad for not uploading in ages so yea. Excuse any mistakes you see - its 2 am here where I'm doing this an my brain is half asleep. Will fix any mistakes there are tomorrow morning, just wanted to finally post up something again. Also had to rearrange around a little of the chapters sorry.