Chapter XI
The home was the same as he remembered it, from the outside. Small, quaint, and welcoming. The soft rays of the morning sun cast a soft light on the rounded sandstone edges of the house, though as pleasing as it was to the eyes, it did little to soothe the nervousness that ran through Talon's veins.
Exhaling a deep breath, he tried to calm himself before he would move on.
Just reaching out to touch the cool metal of the door's latch left Talon's heart racing. What if Malzahar was still laying there, dead, just the way Talon had left him? What would he do then?
Surely there was a purpose for calling him all the way back here, if it really was him in the first place... even Talon was beginning to have his doubts.
"...Here goes." Talon mumbled to himself, pushing the latch and pulling open the door. Just the creak of the wooden door made Talon jump, watching as bits of sand fell from their resting places between the aged wood.
Stepping quietly into the main room, Talon closed the door gently behind him. Everything seemed to be left as it was. Nothing had been moved at all – the fireplace still held hints of ash within it from the time Malzahar had lit it previously, and the couch held tiny bits of sand upon the cushions that had not been wiped off. Clearly, no one had been here since Talon had left it.
Which only worried him more.
Without waiting further, Talon took a step towards the hallway, the only sounds being that of the creaking floorboards as he walked. His heart was beating heavily in his chest as he approached the room where he had stayed, and ultimately taken Malzahar's life. The corner of the bed was visible from where he was currently, fingers unconsciously reaching for the dagger strapped at his side.
Then, his blood ran cold.
Upon stepping into the room, it was... neat. Everything seemed to have been cleaned, and Malzahar's body was not present on the bed. The sheets were nicely tucked around the mattress, pillows smoothed out and fluffed; there was not a single trace of blood anywhere in the room, and much less, any trace of the Prophet.
Talon's breathing began to grow heavy. He felt nervous, something felt very, very off that left him in a state of near panic. This had to be a cruel joke of some sort, he remembered killing Malzahar with the dagger strapped to his-
Gone.
Dark eyes stared blankly at his hip. The dagger was gone, his fingers were now gripping onto nothing. Vanished, into thin air – but, how?
He remembered touching it out of fear just moments ago. Surely he didn't drop it... right? Talon began to reason with himself within his mind, standing in place, but looking at every corner and nook of the room for anything out of place.
Yet, the one thing that scared him the most, was turning around.
He felt a presence; eyes were watching him like a hawk, watching every move he made, every small flex of each muscle. In one swift turn, Talon spun around, holding his breath with his hand in front of his face in a defensive stance. His eyes stared sharply down the still somewhat darkened hallway, gazing at each shadow that he could see.
Nothing.
Exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding, Talon marched quickly from the room, nearly running for the door of the home.
He had to leave. His mind was panicking. Something was dreadfully wrong and he didn't want to be here anymore.
Just as his hand touched the latch and pulled it to open the door, his panic immediately grew. The door wouldn't budge. Locked tight, and no matter how hard the assassin pulled, it refused to open; he was trapped.
His entire body was frozen; almost as if his limbs were affixed in their current position like mere statues. The assassin's eyes were wide, filled to the brim with fear as he heard a low chuckle from behind him. Then, a strong arm wrapped itself around his abdomen, followed by a hand gripping lightly around his throat.
"You did come back..."
Malzahar.
"You came back... and even returned my dagger, just as I was hoping you would. Ah, you have my cape too! I was wondering where it went."
His voice was playful, yet Talon was able to pick up on the sinister tone behind his words. The hand on his throat tightened, the arm around his torso pulling him back so he was attached to Malzahar like an iron clasp. The assassin's arms were limp at his side, unable to raise them, and he soon saw why.
Two portals were open beneath him, on either side. Long, purple and translucent tentacle-like arms were wrapped tightly around his wrists, keeping his arms forced down at his sides so he couldn't retaliate in any way. It was odd, how they didn't seem to even be felt upon his skin; yet, the tugging they were doing was certainly noticeable, and rendering his arms entirely useless.
"Honestly... I should kill you, right now, just as you did to me. But, I shall refrain. The Void wishes to do that itself." Talon heard the grin in Malzahar's voice, feeling the way his head rested upon his shoulder. "Did you not know? Upon harming one of the Void's prized possessions, it seeks revenge. Like a mother angered by the fact that one of her children has been bullied."
Talon gulped, groaning as Malzahar's fingers tightened further, beginning to choke him.
"It no longer desires you, nor your body. It wants nothing more to do with you; only to break you, and consume you." Malzahar whispered, placing a kiss on Talon's cheek as he chuckled, "Unfortunate. Everything would have went so much better, if you had just listened to me. You and I... we could have had everything."
"I'm sorry..." Talon gasped with what little breath he could manage, "M... Malzahar..."
"Tell me, Talon. Why is it you came back here?" The Prophet asked, ignoring the gasping of the assassin as he struggled to breathe, "granted, you made my job easier for me, as I would have found you either way... But, I am curious. Tell me."
The assassin closed his eyes, he would need to pull off some pretty good apologizing if he wished to perhaps even make it out of this alive.
"B...Because... I love you." Malzahar's grip eased slightly at that statement, Talon taking note of the small, sudden intake of breath from the Prophet. "I... regretted my decision. I couldn't stop thinking about you, and my heart ached... I... I just... I came back, because I love you."
The Prophet growled, a low, threatening growl that made Talon flinch.
"If you loved me, why did you kill me?!" Malzahar's voice rose, no longer sounding venomous. Now, he sounded hurt.
"I was scared." Talon replied simply, and the grip on his throat eased further, enough for him to breathe properly. "I'm... so sorry..."
At once, Talon felt Malzahar leave him, and the portals below him close. The Prophet moved back against the wall, sliding down it into a sitting position. His hands were on either side of his head, and from the looks of it, he seemed to be deep in thought; or, at least, Talon took the confused and shocked expression on his face as being 'deep in thought'. Almost as though there were some form of inner conflict troubling his mind.
The assassin stood still, watching him in silence for a moment, before daring to move a bit closer.
He didn't speak words. Dropping to his knees in front of Malzahar, Talon leaned forward and pressed his body against him, wrapping his arms around his neck in a gentle hug. Actions spoke louder than words, or so the General always said.
In the back of his mind, he knew that this position could also easily allow Malzahar to take his life with the dagger he still held, if he so chose, but the assassin was willing to take that risk.
What Talon wasn't expecting, however, were the gentle hands that placed themselves on his back, just below his shoulderblades.
"Malzahar... I... I don't know why I chose that course of action. I just... didn't want to become something I'm not." Talon spoke softly, voice a hushed whisper as if telling the largest secret in the world. "I didn't want the Void to use me as its vessel... I didn't want-"
Talon was silenced as Malzahar rose his head and connected their lips together. The assassin blinked in surprise, and while he didn't mind the action in the slightest, it was a tad bit unexpected. Yet, he still found himself pushing back against the Prophet's lips with equal force, gripping onto his cheeks with his hands.
They stayed that way for a long, long while. Lost within each other's touch, and presence alone. It was a kiss that spoke enough words for both of them to understand; each of them knew why the other took the course of action that drove them to where they were now, and both knew that their actions may have been... selfish.
Selfish, and cruel; but they were both at a silent understanding of why things went the way they did.
The kiss was soon broken, their heads slowly pulling back ever so slightly away from each other as their eyes locked. The uncertainty that was once filling Talon's eyes had been erased entirely. For now, he was completely sure of himself, and decided to no longer fight against his heart's desires. If this was love he felt, there was no sense in running from it.
Their foreheads touched, and Talon's eyelids lowered until they closed entirely; he basked in the warmth that Malzahar had to offer him, hands resting gently upon his shoulders as he sat between his legs.
"I know." Began the Prophet, thumb caressing Talon's cheek in a gentle motion, keeping it just barely touching his warm skin. "I knew why you had taken that course of action. Yet, I was also rather upset with you... I allowed my own emotions to get the better of me, just as you had."
Talon's lips twitched down into a frown as he opened his eyes halfway, staring directly into the glowing orbs that were watching him delicately. Malzahar's eyes didn't avert themselves for a single second - it was as if Talon would disappear into thin air if he looked away, or even blinked. Unconsciously, Malzahar's arm tightened around Talon's back, pulling him forward until their torsos touched.
"I'm sorry. I probably scared you." Malzahar's chuckle was weak, eyebrows lowering in a gesture of concern, and regret, "this entire thing was... a mistake. I should have treated you better."
At once, Talon's movements snapped to life. Pulling their foreheads apart, the assassin shook his head, lowering it so his eyes were concealed by the shadow cast by his hood's hook. Though, the way his lips curved upwards into a warm smile certainly wasn't hidden from the Prophet, no matter how he tried to mask it.
"...Why are you smiling?"
"Something about hearing you apologizing for all of the trouble you've caused me is... funny." Talon snickered, "you honestly think an apology could make this better? Reverse all the wrongs, and the way you've made me feel?"
Malzahar remained silent, ethereal eyes staring at Talon in surprise and curiosity.
"You're mistaken." Talon growled, though the smile could be heard in his words alone, "You can't apologize and expect me to forgive you."
Malzahar was interested by his words, though also perplexed. Was it not an apology that Talon had wanted all along? After all, he had kidnapped him, and sentenced him to a cage for weeks on end – nearly sacrificed him to the Void, even.
Tilting his head slightly, the Prophet spoke. "I suppose... I cannot expect you to forgive me so easily."
"I will never forgive you, Malzahar." Talon immediately answered, not skipping a single beat. The smile still held on his lips, as though permanently affixed to his expression; admittedly, it was what had the Prophet in a state of confusion, given just how rare it was to see the Noxian smile so wide, especially given his words.
"I've fallen in love with you, so forgiveness isn't an option."
Talon's eyes drew towards the Prophet's face, watching the red splash onto his tanned cheeks as a blush crept to them. His eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter, meeting Talon's hawk-like stare as his head once again rose. It was time for Talon to make the move, this time.
Slowly, his head drew towards the Seer's, allowing his eyes to fall shut just before his lips brushed against Malzahar's. The Prophet didn't hesitate to return the gesture, pressing against Talon's lips with an equal amount of force. If he wished for him to, Talon would prove just how much he loved Malzahar, prove just how sorry he was for taking his previous course of action – it was the only thing he could do, the only way to make things right again.
He'd show Malzahar how much he loved him through not only words, but also through his actions.
The kiss didn't last long, Talon soon pulling away in favor of trailing soft kisses along Malzahar's cheeks, trailing to his jawline and coming at a firm stop on his neck. Hooking his fingers over the line of his thick scarf, the assassin pulled it down in order to expose more of his neck. Enough to allow his lips free reign of wherever they pleased.
"How bold... have you finally gotten over your embarrassment, assassin?" Malzahar's lips formed a grin, receiving nothing but soft kisses on his neck in response, followed by gentle nips, "Just what happened to you, during your time away from me? Just a few days ago, you were too shy to even look at me as we kissed, and now, here you are taking the initiative."
The amusement that laced Malzahar's voice earned a warm huff of breath from Talon's lips as he pulled himself back, dark eyes narrowed into a sharp, serious gaze as he looked upon the Prophet. "Does this not satisfy you, then? Would you prefer me to be no more than a submissive fly that's caught in your web?"
Malzahar chuckled. "And if I would?"
"...Typical."
Talon let out a laugh, even if he knew Malzahar was most likely serious; he hadn't changed a bit, though it was to be expected. He hadn't left for too long, after all. Merely a day's time, if not slightly more.
Which, reminded him of a rather important question that he had been meaning to ask.
"Malzahar," Talon began, his hands resting idle on the Prophet's shoulders as his chocolate eyes stared directly into his glowing blue orbs, "why is it, that I was capable of killing you back there? You told me you were immortal, right?"
The Prophet stopped for a moment, his stare unfaltering for even a split second; even though his eyes were narrowed into a look of relaxation, Talon could still see the gears at work behind those blue orbs. It always took time, to receive an answer to some of his questions. Time, for the Prophet to choose the correct words to say.
He was just lucky Talon was a patient man.
"I am immortal. No mere human magic or weapons are capable of killing me. You can stab me all you wish with, say, that armblade of yours – but I will not die. I will feel pain, but I will not die, as my body will not allow it. That is, unless..." Malzahar trailed off, once again going into thought.
"Unless...?"
"Unless the weapon is of Icathian origins. You stabbed me with my own blade, a gift that the Void had bestowed upon me the moment it made me its Prophet. Only beings from the Void, or weapons forged from its metals are able to put a dent in my body, or ultimately 'kill' me."
Talon seemed puzzled. If what he said were true, then why didn't he stay dead in the first place? Granted, Talon was glad he was alive, but his explanation didn't make much sense when he thought about it.
"Then why are you alive, if I stabbed you through the neck with your own weapon?"
"Because the Void took pity on me. It felt the heavy weight of my heart, felt how it shattered upon being betrayed by you. So, it granted me a second chance, and my body was once more reborn. Not only that... but, it wanted revenge, and it knew I would be capable of extracting it."
Sliding himself off of Malzahar's lap, Talon seemed to shy away from the topic. Guilt was a rare emotion for him to feel, but over the previous hours, he had felt it so strongly he was sure it was leaking from his chest. Malzahar's words only fortified that feeling.
If anything, he didn't deserve Malzahar. Not after what he had done. In fact, he was surprised he was still alive, and not a bloodied heap on the living room flooring.
"You amaze me, Malz." Talon's voice was quiet, moving to sit so his back was against the wall, but close enough to Malzahar to still feel the heat radiating from his body. "You went against the Void's wishes in order to keep me alive. Just so we could be together. You spoke so highly of this place, of your rulers, and yet here you are, denying them just for me."
Talon almost couldn't believe it himself, but as that single arm slung itself over his shoulder and pulled his body over so his head rested against Malzahar's chest, he felt calm. Any sort of doubt, fear, or trouble that he held in his mind seemed to vanish almost instantly just from his partner's touches and gestures alone. It was odd to him, how Malzahar was capable of ridding him of so many doubts all at once, just by pulling him into a sloppy hug.
Odd, but also amazing, and definitely needed.
"Though the Void may wish to bring you to your knees and rip your heart from your chest, I do not hold those same wishes. I was very angry with you, yes... but I would never kill you. The act I pulled back there when you came back was merely a test, one to see if you were truly sorry for what you had done, and if you were finally man enough to stop fleeing from your heart's wishes."
Once again, Talon heard the grin that tugged the corners of Malzahar's lips as he spoke. So, it was all an act? That at least explained a few things.
"I... see." Sighing, Talon pushed himself forward, breaking Malzahar's hold around his shoulders as he stood from the floor, eyes fixated on the far window. "So despite my mistake, you're willing to accept me, and forgive me? What if I do it again in the future? Does that not worry you?"
The Seer let out a breathy chuckle as he too rose up, looping his arms around Talon's neck. "It doesn't worry me, because I know you won't do it again. If you do... I will be sure to stop you, next time. Just don't expect to walk away so cleanly, without a punishment."
Talon scoffed, turning himself around so he was once again facing Malzahar, the Seer's arms sliding from his neck in favor of wrapping around his back. Raising his arms, he snaked them over the Prophet's shoulders, tilting his head very slightly to the side in a look of question. A punishment? Of what sort?
Although he was curious, that curiosity was soon masked by the feeling of Malzahar's lips once again crashing against his own. This kiss was a bit less sloppy than the last one, and a bit more heated, Malzahar taking extra care to pull Talon forward until he was bound against him like an iron clasp. Returning the action with his arms around Malzahar's neck, Talon allowed his eyes to fall shut, and once again let himself fall into the Prophet's touches.
Soon, his lips were forced upwards, Malzahar's tongue entering his cavern and beginning to taste. Talon felt the heat rise in his cheeks, along with the shiver that trailed down his spine as one of the Prophet's hands found the rim of his shirt and lifted it, trailing underneath in favor of properly feeling each muscle on his back. It was time to stop running from such things, and time to allow the Prophet to have his way.
If this relationship was going to work, Talon couldn't allow himself to continue to shove him away.
The passing minutes seemed like hours, Talon being so lost in the kiss that he had forgotten all about the time. Even as it ended with the Prophet pulling himself back, the assassin's eyes took a moment to actually flutter open; while they were shut, tiredness had overtaken him, and he soon came to the realization that he hadn't had a proper sleep the previous night. It took hours to traverse the desert sands and reach this hut, and his body was still fatigued from the trip.
Malzahar, seeming to notice this, chuckled as he slipped himself away from Talon's arms in favor of gently holding his hands. "Come, Talon. For now... I think we could both use a nice rest. I will speak with the Void later about this predicament, so if you once more wake up without me by your side, don't worry. I'll return, I promise."
Slowly, Talon managed a nod as his hands were tugged, leading him down the hallway towards the room that once felt like a cage. While he detested it at first and cursed the sandstone walls, he had actually grown rather fond of it over time. There was a particular charm about the place, one that he certainly wouldn't mind seeing for a much longer period of time.
Sliding himself onto the bed, Malzahar was quick to join him, enveloping his body in a warm embrace as the covers were tugged upwards over them. Once more, he felt relaxed; not a single care in the world plagued his mind as he allowed his eyes to shut, arms wrapping tightly around Malzahar to return the embrace. So long as the Prophet was next to him, Talon felt at ease.
Over the previous days, Talon realized just how much he needed the Prophet. As he arrived in the desert on that fateful night, he never would have thought for a moment that it would have come to this. That he would allow himself to become so attached, that it physically pained him when they would part. Talon had never felt love before, not for a single moment in his life – until now.
Now, he'd fight through the underworld and back just to keep the Prophet by his side.