ACT I: Bitter Armistice

Dear Katarina Du Couteau, God that sounds so horribly formal… dearest Katarina…my Kat.

I don't know where to even begin. How I possibly hope to say all that needs to be said, after everything that's happened, all that we've been through! My whole life I have prided myself on my talent for words – to a flaw. You yourself accused me of hiding behind my eloquence, of wielding words like a particularly fine paintbrush – or a particularly sharp blade, and yet, as I sit to write this letter they slip through my fingers like liquid silver, elusive and intangible. When it comes to you, and to us, there are ill-sufficient words in all of Runterra and even in the darkness beyond it, for me to properly convey everything I feel. It is infuriating, not being able to articulate the chaos that is my head. No doubt the Gods are mocking me, I am condemned to play jailor to my own mind until what little sanity I still have has completely slipped away. It is a cruelly appropriate punishment given the exact nature of my wickedness, in another time – another life it might even have been funny, but humour and laughter are only a memory to me now.

I am not asking you to forgive me. Forgiveness would be far more than I deserve after everything that I have done to hurt you, but I would not be able to forgive myself if I did not at least attempt to explain. I owe you that, and for my own sanity I need you to understand why I did what I did, why I said what I said…

Ok, well, here goes…

I don't think Luxanna Crownguard has ever truly existed. For as long as I can remember I have been a prisoner of my name, of Demacia – 'the prestigious and noble Crownguards'…Even as a small girl I was under constant scrutiny from everyone, my parents, my teachers, the state, everyone constantly watching waiting for the tiniest slip up. You of all people can probably relate to this. Its suffocating, you feel scared to breathe, scared to live for fear of bringing shame on the family. I never had any friends, I barely spoke to anyone at all other than my parents, my brother and my tutors. I was like their doll, to dress up and parade about as they wished, the perfect poster child of Demacia, never speak, never question, never think…After a while I started believing it all, I didn't know anything else, and eventually I became completely dependent on it. I clung to the mask my family had created for me because I was scared to find out who I was without it, scared to face the lonely empty girl buried deep beneath all the lies.

So I did what I was told, I played the part and became who they wanted me to become. I craved my parent's approval, I heard the way they spoke about Garen, how proud they were, and was desperate for them to notice me, to realise that I was more than just their daughter. Everything I ever did was in an effort to earn their respect. All the energy I poured into perfecting my magic was to impress them. All the tedious hours spent in class, and the even more tedious hours spent feigning interest while pompous old men drawled in my ear. Every sweet smile, every false laugh, every charming word, every lonely tear, every single breath; It was all for them.

And they sent me away. The second I was old enough it was off to join the military. I never got their pride, I never ever got their sorrow, they didn't spill a single tear as they waved me away into the real world, with nothing but my mask, the girl they had invented, and my stolen childhood, to protect me. That was the lowest I had ever been, the loneliest I had ever been. I had to work twice as hard as anyone else because of who I was and where I'd come from and still most people only saw me as the ditsy little rich girl, they thought there was no more to me than my face and my parent's money. In the military Demacia was my only friend, the only one I could rely on, and the only one that would protect me. I convinced myself that all the pain and sadness that I felt was the least I could give in service of my country. Demacia was my everything, it was my sole purpose; the King was my God and The Measured Tread was my Bible – I can't tell you how many times I must have read that fucking book…

I excelled. I served Demacia tirelessly, following my orders inexorably and without question. I was the perfect little patriot, I had truly become the Golden child of Demacia that my parents had so desperately wanted me to be. I hate how easily I swallowed all the self-righteous propaganda bullshit. I fucking welcomed it, I craved it! I was vulnerable, broken hearted and lost, and I clung to the one thing I had to that could give my life some hollow meaning.

So when I first learned of Garen's supposed treachery and the fate that awaited him, I was shocked, I even looked down on him for turning his back on his duty, I didn't even question. I could comprehend why he would risk everything, risk his family and his homeland, for a Noxian. The Demacian world, the values we are force fed every second of our lives, is a world of black and white, a world of good and evil. I hated Garen for forsaking Demacia and our family – but I also loved him, he was the closest thing I had ever had to a friend, he had looked after me and loved me when no one else had, I was not going to let him die.

I begged them to reconsider, and persuaded them to let me fix his mess. my reasons were not entirely selfless. If Garen's crimes were made public, my family would have been ruined, we would be a disgrace to Demacia and without my family, without Demacia I was nothing. That scared me more than anything, I could not bear to lose my mask, to confront the emptiness within…A part of me also was hungry for the chance to finally prove myself, to show the world that I was better than Garen, that I could do what he could not, that I could succeed where the Might of Demacia had faltered. My instructions were clear. They told me it was his life or yours and it was a simple choice…it should have been simple…

But then I met you and everything went wrong…It was like being born again, like opening my eyes for the very first time. It was utterly terrifying, I had all these thoughts and ideas that weren't pulled directly from 'A measured Tread', I felt things I had never felt before, I wanted things I hadn't even known existed. Suddenly it wasn't simple anymore, it was quite the opposite, it was impossible. I didn't know who I was until I met you, when we were together I didn't have to act, I didn't want to hide. Suddenly my character was crumbling around me, years of carefully and meticulously crafted defences, you brushed my mask away as easily and as gently as if you were simply brushing a strand of hair from my face. I was finally living my life without being told what to do and think and feel, it was intoxicating, I never wanted it to end. But I knew it had to end…I had to kill you. Somehow I had to kill the person I loved - Because I did love you Kat, I loved you more than air – I had to kill you or lose everything.

You know what happened after that…It drove me insane, I couldn't think, couldn't find a way out. There was no way out. I wasn't strong enough, not brave enough to listen to my heart, to risk everything for one person who had made me happier than any other, the woman I so desperately wanted but could never have. I convinced myself that my Country, my family, were more important than my own foolish fantasy. I made my awful choice, I had to kill you – I tried to kill you and I lost you forever, the single best thing I had ever known… and I couldn't even get that right. I couldn't do it. I had failed everyone, my country, my brother, myself, but above all else, I had failed you. That was truly the lowest I have ever been.

When we fought in the forest I swore to myself that this time I would not fail. I unleashed a lifetimes worth of rage, injustice, pain and loneliness that I had never been allowed to feel. I let it fester and feed like a great surging, spiralling vortex of fire, and then I directed it all down upon you. But the more I tried to hurt you I realised that every blow, every hateful word, was tearing my own heart to pieces. I could never hurt you. I could never kill you. You were in my each and every breath, in every beat of my icy heart; you had filled my very soul. I finally understood who I was. I would not let you die, not for anything in the world.

In the end I got miraculously lucky. I took a huge risk and by some miracle, we all came out alive, we had prevented a war.

I had everything I had prayed for but it felt like I had lost everything. And I had lost everything, I had lost you. To have known you, to have been so blissfully close to you, even for such a short time and then to suddenly know that I would likely never see you again, or hear your voice, or hold you in my arms – It was like having my heart torn out. I can feel your burning hatred for me, I can feel it no matter how far away you might be, and it is agony. A world where you hate me, or worse, a world where you feel nothing for me at all, where you don't even remember my name, is a world entirely without light.

That is why I am writing this. Not out of some foolish hope that it might change your feelings for me in the slightest. Not in some self-indulgent attempt to ease my own conscience so that I can go back to my old life. But because I need you to know that I love you. I have told more lies in my short life than I could possibly count, my whole life in itself has been one great lie, but my time with you, and my feelings for you were the truest thing I will likely ever know. The first time I laid eyes on you, I could think of nothing else, it almost hurt to look at you, like staring into the sun, your image is burned forever in my eyes. Your enchantingly beautiful, witty and intelligent, strong and loyal, and tender – and… Noxian…and furious, and cold, and hurt, and terrifying - and I love everything about you. My hopeless wasted heart will probably love you just the same until my final breath.

I know that I will never see you again. I have made my peace with that. I'm leaving today, a boat is leaving at dusk and I will be on it, I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do, all I know is I will never look back. Katarina, knowing you – loving you, nothing will ever be the same again. You electrified me, you charmed me, you chilled me to the bone, you set me on fire, you stole my breath, and you stole my heart, you shattered me into a million tiny pieces and – and I wouldn't have changed a second. Thank you, thank you so much. It was the hardest and happiest times I will ever know. You made me who I am and I will never go back.

Have a good life; I hope you find happiness in someone that has the strength that I could not. Thank you again, I love you.

Yours forever,

Luxanna

Lux reread her rushed, sprawling words one final time. It felt like the hundredth time, and her eyes blazed brilliantly, fighting back the shimmering wall of tears that had crept up on her once more. She forced herself to look away, carefully folding the sheaf of parchment into a neat rectangle before slipping inside an envelope. The envelope had a single word neatly printed on its front in large looping letters. 'Katarina'. Lux raised the envelope up, briefly brushing it against her lips, for a fraction of a second her eyes flitted shut and she was completely still…then she shook herself resolutely and slid the letter delicately back inside her pocket. She needed to focus, just for a short while longer. There was still a job to be done.

Several months had passed and, despite the misery she felt her plan had worked more perfectly than she could ever have dreamt that it would. Her greatest misdirection ever, she promised herself every day that it would be her last. It had fooled everyone. Katarina was alive. Garen was alive. What's more she had prevented a war, ended it without a drop of blood being spilt. Both nations had jumped at the opportunity to escape the inexorably approaching conflict. Gnarled, stony faced leaders from Noxus and Demacia alike had made a great pretence of grudgingly signing the peace treaty, but had sighed with relief the second they were back behind closed doors.

It was a sigh of relief that had echoed about the entire land. The people of Runterra making no mistake of just how close they had come to war, a war that would have torn the continent into shreds. There was a special kind of tension in the air. Hostilities between Noxus and Demacia were still perilously high, it was a sizzling volcano about to erupt, they may have narrowly avoided it once but it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head once more. It was only too evident in people's behaviour. Even here in Noxus, as Lux watched the swarms of people going about their business in the market below, there was a palpable strain in the air. They were a little too casual, trying slightly too hard to act normal, falsely bright and cheerful. Everyone was determined to enjoy a little normality while they still could; war loomed heavy in the air like an approaching storm. They were a people who knew they were living on borrowed time.

Lux knew all this. Part of her even wondered whether she hadn't made it all worse, delaying the inevitable, only prolonging peoples suffering, pushing the tensions to all new levels. The truth, however was that she didn't care. She would have nothing to do with it, that part of her life was behind her. She knew all too well what Noxus and Demacia and there constant bitter feuding did to people lives – Let them go to war, she thought, let them wipe each other out, it was time for a change. It always made her feel slightly better to know just how shocked her family, even her old self, would have been if they could hear the treacherous thoughts now rattling about her head. She might finally have achieved what she had been warned about her entire life and become a disgrace to her family name. Here she was lurking on a rooftop in the middle of Noxus after all.

Lux shivered involuntarily, pulling her jacket closer about her shimmering transparent body. Despite her new found liberal philosophies, just being in Noxus still made her feel decidedly uneasy. Invisible or not, she felt incredibly vulnerable just sat here waiting, out in the open on this crumbling stone rooftop. Her watchful blue eyes scoured the throngs of people below, searching for an upturned face, the glint of a sword, any small sign that her position might have been compromised.

She had taken a huge chance in coming here, when she was so tantalisingly close to her freedom, but she would never have risked delivering her letter by any other means. This was the only way to ensure it fell into Katarina's hands and hers alone, Lux was sure of that much, but that did not stop her worrying. To be caught now, here, skulking around Noxus, was unthinkable. To them she was still a Demacian, still a Crownguard, and it would be seen as an unprovoked act of aggression, they would surely think that she was a spy, her capture might even be the spark that ignited the war. She could not – would not let that happen.

No one was going to catch her. The hardest part was already behind her, easily slipping undetected into very heart of Noxus Prime, espionage and reconnaissance was after all, her area of expertise although she had hoped her sneaking days were behind her. The sky was dark despite it being an almost perfect summer's day, thick dark smoke hung about the city, spewing from countless towering chimney stacks and whipped into a frenzied haze by the ocean winds. Lux was beginning to become concerned that this might give her away, some vigilant soul down in the market would notice the smog curling peculiarly around her otherwise unseen body and raise the alarm. Before her concern had a chance to develop into a fully-fledged paranoia however, she was distracted, a movement on the far side of the square drawing her eye.

At first she thought she was mistaken, that the heavy fumes were addling her mind and she was seeing things but then she saw it again; A flash of red, a twirl of unmistakable crimson hair. Lux stifled a gasp; she would have known that hair anywhere. Silently the mage rolled forwards into a crouching position, before beginning to edge along the rooftop in search of a better view, her breathing had become very fast. She sidled past a window that was covered in iron bars, and dodged between two chimneys, all the while keeping one eye of the crowd below. She vaulted a low wall, fell through the air and landed lightly on a section of flat roof below, she ran to the very edge and then suddenly, there she was. Lux skidded to a halt but her heart seemed to continue on, leaping inside her chest, as she stared with wide eyes at the familiar figure now making their way towards her.

Katarina looked as fierce and as radiant as ever, her blazing hair streaking out behind her as she shunted a path through the dense crowds. Even the biggest, most brutish looking men, shrunk out of her way as she approached, such was the terrifying glint in her eyes and the sheer force of her reputation. More than one pair of eyes glanced warily at the razor sharp daggers that glinted from her belts. She strode quickly and purposely across the market, a blur of rippling black leather, pearly white skin, and blood red hair.

Watching unseen from the rooftops, Lux was slightly unnerved. Scarcely a day, or even an hour, had passed since their last meeting where the redhead had not been prominent in Lux's mind, and yet she had somehow forgotten quite how strikingly beautiful the other woman was in the flesh. Her memories did not even began to do justice to Katarina's full grace and elegance, her perfect body, the shimmering danger of her jade eyes and the warm allure of her smile. Lux was suddenly quite breathless, her heart was pounding a furious tattoo against her chest and pale skin was prickling uncomfortably. Months of repressed emotion coursed through her slight frame, threatening to overpower her completely and for the first time, she had doubts.

Just seeing the other woman again was enough to set Lux's mind racing. Was this really the right thing to do? Katarina did not look much like the vulnerable, lonely, compassionate girl that Lux had known at the institute, the girl that had so desperately sought companionship and love in her sworn enemy. No, she looked different, she looked older. There was a gaunt, almost haunted look in the depths of her eyes, and her expression was hard and cold. There was an arrogance to the way she held herself, an unwavering confidence in her own ability. She struck an imposing figure, formidable, terrifying. Lux was not looking at her Kat anymore, this was the famed sinister blade, the assassin whose name struck an icy fear through the hearts of Demacians everywhere, whose name whispered death in the ears of her enemies. She was back on her territory, back amongst her people. This was Noxian heartland and it was her home, this was who she was supposed to be.

'Supposed to be'. Lux hated herself for even thinking such a phrase. She had spent her entire life trying to be who she was 'supposed to be' and it had brought her nothing but emptiness. Katarina and her were never 'supposed' to find each other. They were bitter enemies! Polar opposites! The Demacian and the Noxian, the light and the shadow - but they were so similar. Their two lives had run almost completely parallel, like two beams of light, identical in every way except each a different colour, they had never been supposed to meet but they had been twisted together by fate and, together, they had become something more powerful, more beautiful than they could ever be alone.

Her blue eyes shone with defiance. That was who she wanted to be! That was who she was! It wasn't for the world to decided who her or Katarina were 'supposed' to be or what lives they must lead. That was a decision far greater than any of them, greater than Noxus or Demacia, greater than the universe. They were who they were; there was nothing to be gained and everything to be lost from denying who they truly were deep down. They loved each other. Lux gave a huge sigh, her shoulders drooped. As quickly as her flash of defiance had come, it drained away. She was too late, this was all too late, she had already fucked everything up.

Katarina was so close now that Lux could clearly see her face. She felt a great emptiness take hold, she wanted to weep for her, for the woman she loved was surely hidden deep behind that steely mask, afraid and alone, possibly never to be seen again. Lux was heartbroken, disgusted and angry with herself, it was all her fault. Kat had let down her defences, bared her soul to her only for Lux to tear it apart with her lies, her deceit and her treachery and Lux knew with a sickening certainty that the other woman would never make that mistake again. The rest of her life she would be isolated and lonely, hiding behind her violent work, unable to love or to be loved, all because of Lux, because she had been naïve enough and stupid enough to listen to her countries lies, above her own desperate heart.

The red head had reached the edge of the square and was walking briskly past, cutting into a small alleyway, blissfully ignorant to the highly distressed woman standing only a short distance above her. Lux was an emotional wreck, almost paralyzed by the weight of her guilt and her misery. In that moment she came close to turning and running away, forgetting her plans and getting as far away from this place as she could. She had not known just how painful it would be… to be this close again…so close she could have almost reached out and touched her, but to know that she would never touch her ever again – never hold her again. It took every ounce of Lux's will power to move her feet, it felt like walking through water or through snow, every step was more exhausting than the last, but slowly, painfully slowly, she set off after the other woman.

For several miles they walked in wordless unison, Katarina marching down alleyway after street after alleyway, completely unaware of Lux scampering across the rooftops high above like some dancing ethereal shadow. Lux had managed to lose herself in the focus of her task, her brain fixated on navigating the treacherous Noxian skyline, shutting out all the despair that threatened to weigh her down. Eventually, when they had passed enough characterless stone buildings to tire even the most passionate of stone enthusiasts, they arrived at their destination.

Katarina stopped walking and turned in at a small, ordinary looking gate. She walked quickly up the path and paused in front of a heavy wooden door, her hands fumbling for a moment at her hip before producing a small silver key. The key slid easily into the lock and the red head gave the smallest of glances up and down the street before disappearing inside, the door slamming shut behind her.

The building she had entered was a narrow, but tall townhouse, exceptionally plain, and made from the same cold grey stone as every other building in this blasted city. Lux was moderately surprised, she had of course considered the possibility that Katarina would not be staying at the Du Couteau mansion, especially given current circumstances, but it was a shock none the less to see a woman as important as Katarina holed up in such a modest building. The golden haired mage was almost disappointed, even if it would have made her task considerably more difficult, there had been a strange allure in the idea of seeing the place where Katarina had grown up. The house where she had grown into the remarkable woman she was today.

Lux waited as long as she could bear, making sure that Katarina didn't suddenly re-emerge onto the street. When she was finally satisfied that the assassin was staying put, she sprung quickly into action. Before she could think about what she was doing she had leapt over the precipice of the roof, hanging briefly in the air before plummeting towards the street below. She savoured the sensation, the tingling ecstasy of falling, before, slightly reluctantly, muttering a spell under her breath. The spell gracefully caught her fall, allowing her to hop the short distance down onto the pavement without so much as a sore ankle.

Unlike the heaving market, there was barely a soul in sight, the street was quiet, and the few people walking up and down kept their heads down and their strides quick. None of them noticed the tiny warping in the light as Lux, still shrouded by her spell, dashed across the street and up the path to Katarina's house. She did not waste time, did not give herself a second to question her actions. She produced her letter, blue eyes lingering for a moment on the name she had written on it, the single word that meant so much more, before leaning up and easing it through the metal letter box, as quietly as her shaking fingers would allow. She waited several precious seconds to hear the letter flutter gently to the floor, and then she immediately turned on her heel and began to walk away. Tears were stinging her cerulean eyes once more but she did not look back. She gritted her white teeth with determination, struggling to clear her mind. There was a long journey ahead of her. Quickly she walked away, a rare slither of sunlight, fighting through the smog and catching in her golden hair.