Massive chapter dump incoming. I went to NYCC last weekend, which meant two five hour train rides… and immediately got sick upon returning home. I've had way too much time to write, so…
By request, more Noxians! They're going like hotcakes.
(Kneel before Vlad)
Lux was in the archives. Oh, she'd been sent here, of course, she was nothing if not obedient. It was half the reason Swain kept her around.
She had two tomes gathered under one arm, dusty enough to make her nose itch. History, strategy- something like that. Lux had barely even read the bindings; they weren't important compared to the rune pages stowed in her purse. Each time the General sent her down here, she'd take the opportunity to borrow some books of her own... some at the Demacians' request, and some out of sheer curiosity. More often than not, she found herself alone to weave between the shelves and, even when she wasn't, no one cared to speak to a mere secretary.
It was enough to coax her guard down, after months of the same routine. So, when Lux heard a voice in the usually crypt-quiet archives and felt cold fingers brush her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The person behind her laughed and the two books she'd been holding fell abruptly, landing with a harsh smack on the marble floor.
So much for quiet.
"He never mentioned you being so jumpy."
Lux turned slowly, feeling her heart pound furiously for the interruption. Had he been following her? Had she not noticed?
"I thought I was alone." She managed, after a second of hesitation, glancing down the ground. She didn't want to kneel in front of him to pick up the books. It was stupid, but it was the Noxian thing to do.
(A Demacian would have already been on the floor to help her.)
"I can see that." He grinned, displaying two rows of eerily white teeth. "But now, you have company. And I've been told I make for delightful company." The man was dressed from head to toe in red and white robes, so Lux had to guess he was a mage. He didn't look like any mages she had ever seen.
"...told by anyone who hadn't been working for you?" Lux muttered, making a point to turn away from the man before stooping to pick up her books.
The tall mage laughed. "Ahh, so that's why he likes you. Absolutely charming. Oh, you didn't need help with that, did you?" He leered down at Lux.
"Do I look like the kind of person that needs your help?" It was easy for her to glare. She rose to her feet quickly, ignoring the dust on her knees and turning to exit the hall. Vladimir would tolerate no such thing, turning with a flourish to block her way and extending fingers capped with claw-like blades. "Now, now, don't be so cross. Jericho doesn't mind sharing his toys with me, I promise."
There was no part of that sentence that didn't make Lux's skin crawl. The hemomancer closed the gap between them and dug his claws into the shelf behind her head, metal grinding into wood. Lux felt his robe brush against her legs. She was going to drop the books again, she was sure.
"I am not a toy." She put forth her best effort to snarl up at Vladimir even as he leaned in. His finger- no, claw- traced the line of her cheekbone, gently enough to keep from drawing blood.
"You are whatever we'd like you to be, my dear, haven't you learned that much yet?"
Lux's eyes widened and, for the first time in a very long while, she did something completely on impulse.
She shifted Swain's books into one arm and, in one quick motion, pulled her hand back and slapped.
The hemomancer's pale cheek quickly began to turn red, and Lux bit her lip. Her palm was throbbing.
Vlad took a step backward, eyes wide.
Lux pressed herself further back against the bookshelf, Swain's requests still secure under her left arm.
"You little beast." He moved too quickly for Lux to evade and dug his bladed fingers into the soft curve of her cheek. She felt blood dripping but didn't quite recognize the pain, adrenaline like fire in her veins.
"Do not think for a moment that this taste has absolved you." His fingers came away bloody and Lux clasped a hand to the side of her face, feeling the sticky fluid bead up and roll down her neck. Vlad spared her one final, disgusted glance and turned on a heel, stalking furiously from between the shelves.
Lux noticed distantly that he did not leave any trace of her blood on the marble floor.
"Your little errand girl attacked me." The hemomancer pouted, sprawled languidly on the couch arranged in Swain's office. The General had yet to claim either armchair opposite it, pacing quietly about the room. Only the tap of his cane measured his steps. "And she is horribly iron deficient. You should feed your pets better."
"I don't keep hiring secretaries for you to drain them, Vladimir." Swain drawled.
"You don't?"
His tone was so scandalized that Swain had to pause and look at him. He made a point of seeming reproachful, but Vlad smiled nonetheless. "Not if they do their jobs."
"She can't do her job short a pint?" Vladimir extended a hand over the back of the couch, beckoning with one bladed finger. Swain didn't move, but the bird from his shoulder took off, securing its talons where the steel was strapped to Vlad's knuckle.
"You would let me taste her, wouldn't you, Beatrice?" He cooed at the raven in the same sickening way some Piltovians addressed their dogs. Swain looked less than amused.
"Enough. You've obviously had your taste. Now, was there any real reason you came all this way?"
Vladimir's head finally revealed itself over the back of the couch.
"You wound me. Is visiting my dearest friend not an adequate reason to travel?"
"Across the sea? No."
Vlad snorted. "Fine. If you'd like the truth... These Ionians are boring. There's hardly any work with that filthy chemist leading the way." He was actually pouting. "Do you have any idea how tedious torture becomes after the hundredth civilian?"
"What a terrible tragedy for you." It was entirely possible that Swain was being sarcastic.
"It really is." The hemomancer made a point of examining the blades on his fingers as if they were his nails. "My talents are so wasted abroad... Are you sure this one isn't hiding anything? I could easily check." He grinned.
"I am eventually going to become tired of that question." Swain frowned, and Vlad laughed. "Ahh, I see. Does the great Tactician have a crush?"
Swain scowled.
"Oh, don't make that face. Beatrice knows I was kidding. Don't you?" Vlad began to make rather hideous kissy-faces at the raven. Beatrice turned her head. "Ugh, neither of you are any fun. It's draining just to sit here." He finally sat up properly, waving the bird from his hand. "The Matron has missed you, by the way."
"So there was a point to this visit." Swain drawled.
"The point was the pleasure of your company!" Vladimir rose to his feet. "And to have a look at your little pet." Beatrice turned her head, eyeing the hemomancer sternly, "No, not you, darling."
"The Deceiver, Vladimir." Swain finally began to look impatient, turning to face him. "If she had news, let her speak with me personally."
"Who's to say she hasn't been?" The person in the red robes smiled at him.
Swain did not look happy.
"Vladimir tells me that you attacked him, Marilla."
Lux pressed the damp, black cloth more securely against her cheek, blood still seeping into the fabric. It was exhausting to maintain the act- she was in pain, of course, and a few short years ago she might have been able to run to her mother with these cuts and be coddled back to health.
Lux wanted to go home. Of course she wanted to go home! She wanted to be six years old again, to be swept into her mother's arms and to listen to her brave big brother make grand promises about felling whatever foul beast had wounded her.
Garen would have protected her.
Lux's eyes welled up, and there was nothing she could do to stop the reflex.
"I hit him." She confessed, casting her gaze away from Swain.
"Is there any particular reason you decided to do that?"
It was easier to keep her eyes from watering if she didn't look at the General. She didn't want to see his disappointment, or scorn, or... More likely, nothing. The monster was damn near unreadable.
"...he was touching me." Her voice shook, "He shouldn't have cornered me." She added quickly, forcing spite into her warbly tone. It would be more believable if she seemed angry.
Honestly, Lux only felt scared.
"Perhaps not."
Swain's affirmation, though curt, gave her courage.
"I am not some- some doll for him to play with." The words left her mouth in a hiss and Lux had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. Nothing would look weaker. Nothing would more quickly destroy her cover than to let him see her tears.
Swain watched Lux silently, waiting for her to crack. She drew in a slow breath and squared her shoulders, unyielding.
"I have to agree." He said finally, when it appeared she wouldn't break. His cane tapped softly against the hardwood floor as he rose to his feet. "If anyone else impedes you from doing your work, I expect you to respond the same way."
Lux was surprised enough to look up at the General, unable to mask the tears that sprung, anew.
"W-what?"
He was watching her closely, measuring every step and misstep.
"As my assistant, Marilla, you are an extension of me. Is that clear?" It wasn't any better, Lux thought, to be part of a butcher than to be one's toy.
"It is." She coughed, trying to mask the shaking of her voice.
"Good. And I am not to be trifled with." He had crossed over to Lux's side of the desk as she stared at her lap, and the sudden proximity made her flinch.
"Let me see it." Swain looked down at her and she stared up, slowly pulling the cloth away from her cheek. Her fingers were sticky with blood and her face was smeared in it, still as fresh as if the skin had just been torn.
"Are you in pain?"
Of course she was in pain. She had been sitting at her desk for half an hour tending to the gashes before he'd even called her in.
"A little." She turned her face away, revealing more of the wounds. "I'll live."
Swain chuckled, a rough, grating sound like tires on gravel. "If I touch, will you hit me, too?" He sounded amused. Lux shuddered, glancing up at him.
"...it's alright." She wasn't sure why she said that, but Swain pressed his one free hand to her cheek nonetheless. The touch pulled a whimper from her throat- the cuts were deep, deeper than she wanted to think about, and his skin was rough against them.
"Some in this city believe," He cleared his throat, "That scars exist to remind us of our failures." Lux recognized heat before she sensed the magic trickling from Swain's palm into her cheek. The light it let off was sickly green in her periphery and she could feel the skin twisting on her face, pulling taut over the gashes Vlad had opened. "You haven't failed me yet." The surge of magic stopped as abruptly as it had come and the General pulled his hand away, slick with blood. The raven's eyes were unusually bright, and Lux swore it was watching her. "Did you get the books?"
She nodded quickly, raising a hand to her cheek to feel the smooth, fresh skin. "I can bring them at once."
"Good. And wash your face."
Fuckin' Leblanc, amirite? Or Vlad. Was it Vlad? We just don't know!
As always, review to request a new champion. I swear I'm working on Cait's chapter, but bringing Piltover into the mix brings Ezreal, so that will probably be an extended arc.
I have Katarina's appearance planned, so don't think this is the last we'll see of Noxus.