There had been a small dispute between Ionia and Demacia regarding the ownership of a particular island. Unable to be solved diplomatically, the leaders of each country turned to the League.

Each country's respective champions had come to duke it out on Summoner's Rift, and top lane was no exception.

Irelia's eyes narrowed as she squinted from the safety of her tower into the gloom of the bushes. She suddenly thought, "I brought Flash and Ignite for this battle," before realizing it was the summoner himself thinking that, and that his thoughts were bleeding over through the link shared by them. She tuned out the foreign presence in her mind with practiced ease as she moved into the bushes with caution.

Jarvan was not there.

Irelia moved to the edge with silence honed by countless battles- and tempered in even more deaths when she hadn't been quiet enough. Temporarily splitting her father's blade- her blade- she assumed direct control of the particular fragment, and sent it to fly around the other bush. She was rewarded by grunt, the now bloodied blade returning to her, and with the point of a lance quickly following it.

It was Irelia's turn to grunt as the lance caught her in her side- just piercing through her armor, and drawing a miniscule amount before retracting.

Irelia had been so absorbed in her standoff that she didn't realize the minions had arrived, and had begun beating upon each other. Realizing one was about to fall, she dashed forwards with blinding speed and pierced it in the chest. Feeling a sense of approval- probably bleeding over from her Summoner- Irelia turned and slashed at another one, causing it to fall, before noticing a huge lance moving towards her from the brush. Reacting instinctively, she dashed to another minion to her left, dodging the lance by a hair's breadth.

Jarvan finally saw fit to move out the bush, she saw. He simply thrust his lance again, piercing two of her unfortunate minions. He turned to face her.

"Captain of the Guard. Submit. You cannot win this fight."

Irelia snorted. Jarvan could be completely insufferable at times. "And you think I'll just give up? After all I've been through?" Irelia moved to the side and struck another minion. "I would say the same to you."

Jarvan growled. "My lance will prevent you from reaching me, my armor will prevent you from harming me. You have no chance."

Irelia almost laughed. It was true, Jarvan had reach. But Irelia's extensive training and style, as well as the power of the blades in her hands, granted her greater mobility, speed, and flexibility. "Lets see if you can catch me." said Irelia.

Eight minutes passed in this manner, with taunts and occasional weapons flying across the lane. Minions fell, but champions stood strong throughout the fight.

Then Jarvan struck down one last minion, and his mind finally merged enough with his summoner's to begin to call down his true power. Suddenly leaping fowards with crushing force, Jarvan hurled himself at Irelia, causing a huge crater at his point of impact. His lance surged forwards, thirsting for blood. It found it.

Irelia winced as her left arm was cut. She was only moments away from allowing her summoner to unlock her true potential, but moments could be the death of her in this arena. She turned around, and allowed her summoner to carry her to a group of fighting minions outside of the arena, quickly striking three down, and gaining that burst of strength that it entailed.

Jarvan, only seeing only the cowardly action of Irelia running, leapt out of the crater and landed by Irelia, whom he believed to still be weak. He was faced by the Captain of the Guard, with not four, but eight blades floating around her.

Tossing a standard carrying the gold and blue of Demacia, Jarvan fearlessly pulled himself up to Irelia, and slashed fowards with his lance.

Irelia flipped up and backwards over the lance, and sent the four summoned blades to rip through Jarvan. They swarmed around the Crown Prince like so many wasps, stinging, but the Prince did not allow himself to fall. He pressed forwards, his Lance ever warding, his shield and armor ever guarding. The blades failed to penetrate his defense.

Irelia's swords faded, but she was now strengthened. Surging forwards, she dodged first one stab, then took a glancing blow from another standard, tumbling out of control. Righting herself before landing behind Jarvan, she ordered her swords to slash at his back. Blood spurted from the wound, as the blades slashed again, and Jarvan fell to his knees. Another slash.

Grunting from the pain, Jarvan reversed the grip in his lance and thrust backwards. He hit a surprised Irelia square in the chest and she flew backwards into the brush. After being briefly winded, she slowly stood up, panting heavily, and bleeding profusely from her wounds. Her swords came up however, deadly as ever, ready to pierce the foe in front of her.

Meanwhile Jarvan, thanks to the restorative magics of the Field and a health potion he had chugged preemptively, was able to stand up almost instantly, and stood proudly as ever, even as the wounds in his back slowly closed. He began to move towards the brush.

Irelia, meanwhile, readied her blades.

Jarvan entered the brush- and Irelia was waiting. Two of her swords stabbed into Jarvan's arms, rendering him unable to retaliate, as the other two slashed at his chest repeatedly. His armor now was unable to keep up, as several long slashes opened up along the Prince's torso.

Suddenly, Irelia felt her movements slow. Watching helplessly as her swords slashed with barely enough force to cut butter, she witnessed Jarvan ripping free of her other two swords and grabbing his lance. Her last feeling as his lance pierced her body was disappointment at the burns that now afflicted Jarvan's body. Disappointment that it had to end that way, rather than two warriors fighting it out the way they should've.

Jarvan felt satisfaction as his lance pierced the Captain's body, yet still felt pain. He looked down at his body, and saw flames. Hot burning flames.

His last thoughts were of anger. How dare that summoner take that rightful victory away from him! How...dare...

The match promptly ended before the two could fight again, due to every summoner on the Demacian side surrendering besides Jarvan's. It appeared that Vayne and Sona could not hold at bot lane, and defeat was considered inevitable.

It was so anticlimatic that Jarvan could cry. Defeat was never inevitable. But those milk-drinkers of magicians would never know that.

He stepped off platform, and looked at the scoreboard in disgust. "Zero to six" he muttered to himself. "How can those idiots even-" A quick glance at where Vayne was not-so-subtly brandishing her crossbow silenced him.

In public, that was.

Jarvan's eyes then glanced over to his own.

One kill. One death. "Damn ignite," he muttered.

Irelia, just stepping off her own platform, heard Jarvan's curse. Glancing over, she saw what he was staring at. Her own lips curved downwards in a frown. Her own death... it had only happened because of that damn exhaust. Jarvan couldn't have won without it, yet he blamed everything on the last ditch ignite her summoner had thrown out? That idiot couldn't recognize something that saved his life if it bit him in the butt. She had clearly won that through skill alone, and if it weren't for the summoner spells...

Jarvan looked over, and said softly, "Say that again?"

Irelia, confused for a moment, suddenly realized that she'd been thinking aloud. But she never backed down. The captain squared her jaw and said "You wouldn't have killed me without the aid from your summoner."

Hearing this, the majority of the champions, summoners, and assorted spectators quickly made their leave. None wanted to get in front of either angry, and just the look of determination on both their faces scared the majority of those remaining witless.

Jarvan, on the other hand, was now positively fuming. How dare she possibly say that when the summoner spells of ignite and flash were the only thing that saved her? How could she be so ignorant to his superior skill and training? His eyes narrowed as he ground out with clenched teeth, "Sparring grounds. Now. We'll settle the score there- once, and for all."

Irelia, noticing the look in his eyes, guessed what he had been thinking. She was now extremely angry herself. "If you think you can take me," she spat out and turned her back on Jarvan.

-5 minutes later-

On their approach to the sparring grounds, everyone either individual had met had either made a quick excuse to leave, or simply fled at the sight of the looks in their eyes. Both had murder in their faces, and practically everyone in the League knew not to bother either when that happened.

When they reached the actual grounds, Jarvan headed for the open air pits. Irelia, however, headed for the indoor sparring arena. Jarvan, after a moment of thought, joined her.

When he in the gymnasium, which included paneled floors, and ropes for practicing climbing, he shrugged. "You chose the place, I choose the rules." Thinking about Irelia's way of fighting and her reliance on her father's blade, he smirked for a moment. "No equipment, no weapons, no armor. Unarmed fighting."

There was a clink. Irelia's armor and sword dropped to the ground. "You think I need my swords to defeat you?" she asked, as she took up a stance in the other side of the room, wearing nothing but an sleeveless undershirt and short trousers. She beckoned Jarvan over, who was wearing nothing but short trousers himself.

The Prince walked over, and took a stance. They began to circle, probing at each other's defenses.

Jarvan began by swinging, but Irelia dodged. She tried to get inside his defense, but it was impossible for her to get through the furious defense his arms provided. She did a quick hook-jab combo, but Jarvan's arms prevented her from actually doing damage.

Jarvan then tried going on the offensive, but no matter how much he swung, Irelia managed to dodge somehow, every time.

They quickly found themselves falling into much the same roles as before, with Jarvan's longer arms allowing him the advantage in reach, but Irelia's speed and flexibility allowing her to dodge incoming blows easily. It quickly became a stalemate, both sides cautious, occasionally skirmishing, but mostly waiting for the other to make a mistake.

However, Irelia was tiring faster. Her style required much movement, and as such, she couldn't keep up the pace much longer. Even now, she took glancing blows on punches she wouldn't dodged outright just a few minutes earlier. Glancing upwards, she had an idea.

Running forwards, she jumped. Jarvan, expecting this, swung a fist at where he thought Irelia was going to be.

She wasn't there.

Irelia grabbed onto one of the many ropes that hung from the ceiling and swung above the Prince. As Jarvan craned his head upwards to see where she'd gone, she began to swing back downwards.

Irelia let go.

Jarvan finally noticed her, and began to turn his body.

She landed, the force of her fall impacting the Prince so hard that he fell backwards. Irelia landed on top of him.

Realizing the positions they were in and the attire they were wearing, they both froze for what felt like hours, but was only a minute at most.

Jarvan stared at Irelia, panting above him. Irelia stared at Jarvan, his muscles tensed under her.

Her mouth suddenly descended onto his, as the outside world melted away at each other's touches.

Waddlebuff, rejoice. Lemons are coming (part two of this).

That being said, it will be provided by link seeing as I don't want to turn this into an M rated story.

Anyone who gets the references sprinkled in here gets an internet cookie.

Oh, and sorry for disappearing D=

As always, comments and reviews are always welcome.

-Dorryza