A/N: Characters, locations, storyline and universe © Riot Games
This story is rated M for violence, death, sexual themes and occasionally language.
Long time no see everyone! Thank you for all of the kind feed-back I have received. Here is the fourth chapter of my story I hope you will enjoy reading it.
~WhiteWinterDragon
Chapter IV
Shadows Gather
The training hall echoed with the clatter of steel, as blade after blade was embedded in the straw-dummies set up in the room for target practice. Katarina let another knife fly – her aim was off by two inches. She roared with frustration and kicked the closest dummy with such force the head was torn clean off and rolled lazily across the floor, before coming to a stop at the feet of her sister, who chose that inopportune moment to enter the room. Fucking great…
Cassiopeia spared the dummy-head a brief glance before she bothered to look up and meet Katarina's less than thrilled gaze. Though her expression might have appeared neutral to others, Katarina knew her sister well enough to see the amusement and mischief behind her pretty, green eyes. "Having fun?"
"Get lost Cassie, I'm not in the mood."
"Is that any way to greet your only sister?" Cassiopeia said with a pout, flicking a curly lock of dark, brown hair over her shoulder. Katarina rolled her eyes at the fake hurt in her sister's voice. The beautiful brunette was practically bursting with glee at the prospect of adding to her misery, she just knew it.
"Those who play with fire end up burned Cassie," Katarina said coldly, turning away, so she could extract some of her knives, hoping, despite knowing better, that Cassiopeia would just leave her to her thoughts.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a word of advice."
"Hmm, well I suppose you would know all about playing with fire. How is that wrist of yours dear sister?" Cassiopeia's voice was sickeningly sweet, like rotten honey. Bitch…
Katarina clenched her bandaged fist so hard her wrist started throbbing with a dull pain. "My wrist is fine," she bit, with a tone of finality. She had no wish to discuss the little skirmish she had had with the Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard three weeks prior with her sister. Relaying the mission report to Swain and her father had been bad enough.
Cassiopeia shrugged, taking on an air of nonchalance. "What was he like?"
"Excuse me?"
"What was he like, the Demacian Commander?"
It was a confounding question. What was she supposed to answer? She had only crossed blades with the man for five minutes tops. "How the fuck would I know? Why do you ask?"
"Well, why didn't you kill him?" To Cassiopeia's credit, she looked sincerely curious. Apparently it never crossed her mind that her big-sister had simply fallen short of the task. Katarina sighed. That was really all there was to the matter, but she would die before she admitted it out loud.
No matter what her father said, securing her mission objective had only been a small consolation – a shallow victory in her eyes. The Demacian hadn't even bothered to chase her. Considering he had not known the exact number of enemies he was up against that was technically a wise decision, but still. Some small part of her wished that he had followed her into the forest, that they could have finished what they started that night.
She wanted to fight him again. Though she loathed to admit it, he had sated her voracity for battle unlike any other she had ever fought. His perseverance could keep up with her ferocity. Her agility matched his strength. And then there was that strange, annoying gaze of his. It was so intense, like a storm looming just beyond the horizon. And the smile… At one point she could have sworn that he was grinning right back at her, but the moment was so brief she couldn't be sure his expression had ever changed.
It was infuriating. How could she go back to simple assassinations after experiencing the thrill of battling someone like that? It would never be the same and that was the root of her current predicament. She huffed with frustration. These thoughts had been plaguing her ever since she had returned and they always led her to the same dead end. She hated leaving something unfinished and so, she would have to kill him to move on, but if she did… what then? How long would it take to find another who could push her to her very limits like that?
"Kat?" Katarina looked up, broken out of her morose reverie by her sister, who was still waiting for an answer she was determined not to give.
"I just didn't feel like it at the time. But when I do kill the bastard, I'll take great pleasure in watching, as he draws his last breath," Katarina said, mostly to convince herself, as she hurled another knife, impaling the targeted dummy's forehead. "Let's leave it at that," she shrugged, though her tone was foreboding.
Cassiopeia gave her a disbelieving look, but wisely chose to drop the matter and change the subject, her expression regaining its usual air of bored superiority. "Whatever, I only came down here to say goodbye anyway."
"Where are you going?"
"Shurima."
Katarina raised her brows at this. Cassiopeia was the darling of the Du Couteau house. She was beautiful, charming, perceptive and deceptively clever, her forked tongue and pretty face had doomed many for little more than whispers in a ballroom or carefree pillow-talk. She thrived amongst the Noxian elites. The lavish, luxurious life and courtly intrigues of nobles was her element, frankly the idea of Cassiopeia wandering around in one of the most desolate, hostile environments in Valoran was bizarre. "Explain."
Cassiopeia glared at her for her apparent skepticism, but complied none the less. "Father has asked me to find something for him." Cassiopeia's voice held a self-satisfied undertone that clearly spelled: Father asked me, not you, but Katarina would be damned before she would give her sister the satisfaction of seeing how much that particular detail bothered her. He probably had his reasons, but she couldn't shake the thought that it might be because she had let him down in some way, given him cause to doubt her?
"Katarina."
Preoccupied as she was by the banter with her sister, Katarina had not noticed Talon enter the room before he spoke. "Talon," she said curtly, nodding in his direction as a way of greeting.
"Your father requires your presence. You are to report to the War Room at High Command immediately."
Katarina sighed and went to collect her remaining knives. Her father's protégé looked serious as ever, his tone had been neutral, but he seemed unusually tense. "Very well, best not keep him waiting then," Katarina said, following Talon who was already out the door. She stopped briefly in the doorway one hand resting upon the old, polished frame. "Be careful Cassie," she said quietly. She didn't look back.
ooOoo
A complex system of tunnels and caverns running through Skull Mountain made up the central of power in Noxus. While most matters of state were taken care of in the grand halls of the upper levels, the war room was located in the very bowels of the mountain.
Katarina's steps echoed in the long corridor, the rocky walls throwing the sound around, displacing it, creating the eerie sensation that someone was walking behind her. Lit torches every few meters provided the only source of light and cast writhing and deformed shadows around her as she passed.
She wondered why her father had summoned her. He knew she hated long, boring meetings, so it must be important. Despite her efforts to pry something from him, Talon had revealed nothing. He had kept her company, if mere presence could be called that, until they reached the Ivory District before heading off, claiming that he had some business to attend to. Katarina huffed and kicked at a loose rock. Cassie got to go to Shurima looking for whatever, Talon got to do… She actually had no idea what sort of 'business' he was currently engaged with, but she would bet her right arm it was more interesting than being stuck in a military meeting with a bunch of old geezers.
As she neared her destination she passed more and more members of the elite guard, standing silent and unmoving in their characteristic, black steel armor, looking like grotesque statues in the sparse, flickering light. It was unusual to see so many of them in attendance outside a battlefield or an official parade. This meeting might be entertaining after all…
A last left turn led her to an isolated corridor with just one door at the very end of it. Two guards stepped aside as she approached, allowing her passage. The reason for the excessive guard became clear as soon as she entered. It seemed that anyone who was anything was present in the cavernous hall. Seated around the massive, granite war table in the center were the most prominent of Noxus's Generals. Her father, Swain and Darius were all present amongst them. Even Grand General Boram Darkwill, who sat at the head of the table, was there in person, his son Keiran seated to his right. Katarina could number the times she had seen the Grand General on one hand. He rarely ever left the halls of the Skull Palace, ruling from behind the safety of its walls, relying on people like Darius, her father, Swain and his son to handle matters at the front. Not unwise, but not good for his image in the eyes of the general public either.
Katarina wasted no time before heading to her assigned spot a few steps behind her father's chair. Once in place she allowed herself a proper look at the grand assembly. The Captain of the Elite Guard, a woman called Vanessa Hawthorn stood off to the side of the room, flanked by a couple of her black-armored guards. Swain's adviser LeBlanc stood a few paces behind Swain, her position mirroring Katarina's own behind her father.
There were also some, whom Katarina did not recognize. A man dressed in lavish, blood-red garments with pale skin and almost white hair preoccupied a seat at the table on the side opposite from her. His expression was hard to read. He gave off the impression of knowing something others didn't and seemed oddly flamboyant and smug about it, as if he found the entire situation amusing and didn't feel like sharing the joke. His smile widened slightly, as their eyes met for a second and Katarina, not too keen on being caught staring, quickly averted her gaze to the doors, opting to observe the people still filing into the room instead.
A tall, but lanky man entered, turning quite a few heads as he moved by. He was bald and pale and wore a white mask, which hid his face, from his pointed, hooked nose and down. Another one she had never seen before. To Katarina's surprise, the strange man seated himself next to Swain of all people, exchanging a brief greeting, apparently they were familiar. She took a measured step to the side to chance a subtle glance at her father. He too was observing the pair, but his expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. Perhaps that was just as well.
The loud booming sound of the ironed doors slamming shut brought the room to silence and Grand General Darkwill rose to his feet. "I have called this gathering at the request of General Swain," he motioned towards Swain, who nodded in response, his expression serious and solemn. "He has brought some matters to my attention that call for immediate action. General Swain – speak," Darkwill said, before sitting back down.
All heads turned to Swain. "Thank you Grand General." Swain's voice was as always low and raspy, yet he had no need to raise it. Even with so many people present it carried easily with its usual calm dignity and control. "And thank you, ladies and gentleman," he addressed the room, "I am pleased that so many representatives of Noxus' finest were able to gather on such short notice." Swain paused and let his gaze wander the hall. "We face a crisis." Scattered, low murmurs followed that statement, but they were quickly silenced when Swain continued. "I am sure most of you are already aware that Demacia is currently in the process of negotiating an alliance with the Ionian nation." More murmurs this time.
Katarina narrowed her eyes. It was nothing new that Demacia and Ionia were on friendly terms, certainly not a 'crisis' that called for a full war council. What is he playing at? Swain held up a hand and the murmurs, once again, died down.
"I know what you are thinking. This changes nothing. It has no bearing on us. Ionia is irrelevant before the might of Noxus." Swain once again let his gaze sweep his audience, enthralling it with his intense glare. "You are wrong," Swain said, his voice now quiet, subtle, almost a whisper. Katarina felt a chill run down her spine. It was uncanny to watch how much the General could influence the room just by changing his tone a bit.
"Think for a moment. Ionia's position overseas could lock down our harbors, apprehending our trade with Bilgewater and Zaun. And Demacia is as ever playing tug of war with our Western borders. With this alliance, they could force us to fight a devastating war on two fronts. Three if Freljord decides to join in from the North. Our culling of the barbarian tribes there has pushed the barbarian King and the leader of the Avarosa into a marriage, leaving both clans that much stronger." Swain let out an audible sigh. "Therefore, I suggest that we sail for Ionia and attack."
The silence that had fallen upon the room during Swain's speech was broken as myriads of voices blended together in chaos and disorder in a vain attempt to express anger, fear, doubt, skepticism and enthusiasm. "Why push for a fight Swain?" The voice of Katarina's father rang clear and true, easily heard through the commotion. He too had no need to raise his voice, when General Du Couteau decided to speak, people tended to listen and the rest of the assembly was quickly stilled. It felt as if an eternity went by in a single breath, as Katarina watched the two generals seated at opposing sides of the grand war table, their gazes locked, calmly assessing one another. The sudden tension in the room was so thick she was half convinced she could cut it with her daggers, if she cared to try.
"Ionia has ever been preaching for peace and balance above all else. Demacian alliance or not, it is unlikely that the Ionian nation has suddenly agreed to get involved in the war they have been so keen to avoid for decades," Marcus said tilting his head slightly to look at Swain intently. "If you attack them first however, it changes the situation completely. They would surely retaliate and you would end up having provoked the very scenario you are trying to avoid." Scattered whispers could be heard around the room. General Swain was regarded as one of, if not the most brilliant strategist in Noxus, yet no one could deny the logic of Marcus' words.
"As always you present valid arguments Marcus, ever the voice of reason," Swain said. "But we are past the time for such luxury. Can we truly risk the welfare of Noxus solely on the belief that Ionia will continue to honor their ancient teachings? I am not willing to gamble Noxus' future on the whims of a weak nation. We should strike first, devastate them, discourage them – ensure that they will have nothing to retaliate with before they have a chance to mobilize themselves! It is the only way." Katarina kept her gaze firmly directed at her feet. She supported her father by default of course, but Swain's concerns were not unfounded and so she, like the rest of the audience, could only stand by with a sense of awe and apprehensiveness, as two of their most revered Generals juggled the fate of their nation.
Marcus let out a sigh and propped his arms up on the table to rest his chin in his palms. "Very well Swain, let's entertain your idea for a bit. We amount a considerable strike force, cross the ocean and launch a massive invasion on poor, unsuspecting Ionia. With very little standing military Ionia's governing forces fall swiftly and because the remaining Ionians will want to seek a 'peaceful' resolution, the majority of our forces will be free to return to Noxus after a very short time. That would be the ideal, but completely unrealistic outcome for us." He paused, allowing the audience a moment for his words to sink in.
"This is a more likely chain of events. We amount a massive strike force in an attempt to ensure swift victory and cross the ocean to launch an attack on Ionia, who probably knows we are coming. Ionia has a small standing military force, which they will keep stationed near the capital. Everywhere else, they will have prepared for drawn out guerilla war in the vast Ionian forests, where they hold the advantage. Meanwhile, Demacia has not failed to notice that we have withdrawn considerable numbers from our outlying territories. In fact, the Demacian Prince and Crownguard are pushing our borders along the Serpentine, as we speak! They will push forward with little resistance and eventually, they will receive a request for aid from their Ionian allies. Then they will know with absolute certainty that a major portion of Noxus' armed forces are occupied overseas. Self-righteous big brother Demacia, ever the great, self-proclaimed protector of those in need will of course not stand for this. But Ionia is so far away, it would be much easier to just march straight for the Noxian capital, which we have left so conveniently exposed. Do you see where I'm going with this?" Throughout his little rant, Marcus had kept a spark of humor in his voice to emphasize the foolishness of what he was saying. Now he was dead serious and the dramatic change had everyone in the room waiting with baited breath. Marcus let out a heavy sigh and continued. "Tell me Swain. What do we do when you and I are across the sea, playing hide and seek with Ionian peasants and Crownguard comes knocking at our gates?"
The silence that followed her father's words was suffocating. Katarina was no longer annoyed that she had been forced to attend. This meeting was nothing like the average exchange of reports from the front kind of war meeting. No, it was like watching a game of chess. A game played for the highest stakes by two masters.
It felt like it took forever for Swain to reply. "Your concerns are well founded Marcus, you are quite right. If that was how we were going to proceed, Demacia would be left free to strike at our very core," a small smile that left goosebumps on Katarina's skin played at Swain's lips, "which is why I took myself the liberty to approach the Zaunite Council for assistance."
This caused another uproar in the room. Noxus asking for help from a lesser nation? Strength above all else was the core value of everything Noxian and many of those present clearly considered Swain's move a transgression. Katarina glanced sideways to get a glimpse of General Darius. The Hand of Noxus was known as a great believer in the Noxian way and was considered the ultimate embodiment of it by many. To Katarina's surprise Darius seemed completely unfazed. Either he was better at keeping up appearances than she had previously given him credit for, or he was smart enough to realize that if the invasion of Ionia was to be considered a success, they had no choice but to seek outside help. The grand General also seemed indifferent to this news, his son Keiran did not look pleased, but never the less stayed his tongue. Her father still held his gaze firmly locked with Swain's, his expression unreadable. Katarina would give anything to know what was running through his mind at that moment, but she was left as much in the dark as anyone else attempting to figure it out. At least she hoped that was the case.
"My friends, calm yourselves," Swain said in his calm, sophisticated tone. "Allow me to introduce Singed, the representative sent to us by the Council of Zaun." Swain gestured to the bald man seated next to him, the tall, lanky one Katarina had noted upon his entry. "Zaun has agreed to lend their assistance. They will provide the invasion forces with their newest siege machinery and battle equipment, as well as shock troops to use it. Singed himself will act as the main supplier." The bald man, Singed, merely nodded at this, but otherwise remained passive, relying on Swain to address the High Command. "The Zaunite siege weaponry will make short work of the forests and the Ionians will be forced to face our armies head on." Swain then looked to Marcus, a self-satisfied smirk on his thin lips. "They will not be able to hide."
Marcus nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "In that case, the success of this invasion will depend on those weapons. How do we ensure that they actually make the journey? You can be certain that Demacia will interfere with the transport, they already have a significant navy presence in the Northern reaches of the Guardian's Sea, as you well know."
"Indeed," Swain said drily, "which is why we will be staging the attack from Bilgewater." Another round of outrage erupted in the room. The waters around Bilgewater were notorious for piracy and many of the nobles felt the need to point out the obvious and vocalize their thoughts on the matter. Swain waited patiently, as they had their say. "There is no need to worry. If there is one thing you can trust a pirate to always do, it is take whatever action is most profitable. The residents of Bilgewater will have everything to gain and nothing to lose from supporting this operation. They will agree to host our forces and the pirates will not bother us."
The rest of the meeting was a lot less eventful. Units, commanders, rations, logistics, intelligence, all were taken up for debate. Preparation and planning were key elements for achieving victory in war, as in most other matters and though Katarina was well aware of that fact, she was still growing increasingly bored. After hours of stale strategizing General Darkwill finally declared the war council over and the great ironed doors were once again opened. Katarina was happy to finally escape and quick to follow her father out of the stuffy war room and into the maze of tunnels that made up the infrastructure of Skull Mountain.
"Miss Du Couteau!" Katarina and her father both stopped in their tracks and turned to face General Swain, who was approaching them from behind. "A moment of your time please," Swain said, his raspy voice echoing in the rocky corridor. Katarina looked to her father and upon receiving a slight nod from him followed Swain, who led her down a narrower path adjacent to the one they came from.
"It will be impossible to spare people like your father or even myself for this endeavor," Swain said quietly once he considered them far enough from the prying eyes and ears of the crowd still filing out of the war room. "Like your father so graciously pointed out Noxus will be left vulnerable throughout this whole ordeal, Zaunite assistance or not." Katarina maintained a neutral expression as she met the gaze of her superior. Why tell me this? "I need people I can rely on in the invasion force. People I consider capable of carrying out more… 'delicate' tasks, than the average soldier," he finished after taking a slight pause to carefully pick his words.
Katarina remained silent, she had an idea where this was going and she was not sure whether she should be flattered or alarmed. During the latter part of the council, around the time Katarina had considered going on a stabbing frenzy from sheer boredom, Swain had mentioned that he wanted to establish a few special units comprised of distinguished individuals. It was not unthinkable that he wanted her to join one of them.
"Considering your more recent achievements, I want you to partake in the invasion force as the Commander of one the elite squads." Thought as much… Wait, Commander? Despite her surprise, Katarina managed to uphold her neutral, professional expression. "Should you choose to accept, I will allow you to have a say in who joins your personal regiment. The position also comes with all the benefits of a regular Officer naturally.
Katarina nodded politely, but didn't say anything. The offer was tempting, very tempting. A war might be just the kind of distraction she needed to get her mind off her new found rival, but she didn't dare accept. Not right away. Swain never acted without purpose and she was certain this instance was no exception.
"You don't have to give me an answer right away. Your father should be informed first of course. I would hate to act without his consent in matters such as this." Sure you would… "In any case, I believe I have taken enough of your time Miss Du Couteau, let me know as soon as you have made your decision." With that said Swain turned on his heel and left.
ooOoo
Marcus leaned back in his luscious armchair, as he poured himself a generous glass of cognac, slowly swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip. "So, what did Swain want to discuss?"
Katarina moved to sit on the window sill, as she usually did when her father asked her to come to his study. It was already dark outside, a testimony to the short days of autumn. "He wants me to lead one of the elite units in the invasion."
"I see. Very interesting, now, why would he go and do something like that?" Marcus mumbled. Mostly to himself Katarina presumed, as he wasn't look at her. "Did you accept?"
"No. He said I should clear it with you first."
Marcus raised an eyebrow at this, the characteristic sly smirk of the Du Couteau family forming at his lips, before he took another sip. "Did he now?"
Katarina sent her father a sideways glance. "You oppose the invasion?"
"I thought I made that pretty clear during the meeting."
"Yes but, Swain does have a point father," she said hesitantly.
Marcus looked at her intently then, his green eyes boring into hers. She did not look away, but his gaze made her feel as if she was ten years old again. A naïve and petulant child, who was much too headstrong for her own good and understood nothing of life's complicacies. Her father nodded slowly then let out a sigh before speaking again, his voice much lower. "Of course he does Katarina, if there was no sense to his words he would not so easily have bend the entire High Command to his will."
For a moment he regarded her seriously, as if considering whether or not this was a conversation he wanted to have, before he continued. "I do not have much to go on, but I do know that he did not set all this in motion on a sudden whim. I have intelligence that confirms that he has been moving troops away from our borders and amassing them in several of our coastal regions further south for some time now."
Marcus redirected his gaze to stare absentmindedly at the contents of his glass. "Demacia has noticed it too, the lesser resistance is the main reason Crownguard and the Prince are being so uncharacteristically pushy in their advance."
He shook his head and let out another sigh. "What Swain said today may have been presented as a proposal, but in reality it was just the official announcement of something he set in motion weeks ago. That he acts without the High Commands knowledge and consent and gets away with it scoff free shows how much influence he already has in Noxus. Darkwill for one must have known about it, yet he has done nothing. Darius too, but I assume he was let in on the whole ordeal by Swain himself. I knew of course, but only because I make it my business to know, and I can think of several others, who must have known as well."
Marcus set his glass down hard, spilling some of the precious drops on a stack of documents. "Dammit! Shadows gather in Noxus, we must be extremely cautious. Something else is going on, something I am missing."
Katarina had kept quiet, listening intently to what her father had to say. It was so rare for him to share his thoughts and express his emotions so freely and that he had chosen to confide in her filled her with a rare sense of pride. "You're saying…"
"That Swain has yet to reveal the true purpose of this farce of an invasion? Yes that is exactly what I am saying."
Katarina let her gaze drop to her feet, she had never cared for the political games that her sister so adored, yet she had unwillingly been swept up in one anyway apparently and the thought was both frustrating and a little unnerving. "But if he has no intention of revealing his motives, why in the world would he want me anywhere near his operation, the one that you openly opposed, knowing that I report directly to you?"
Marcus chuckled softly. "You are starting to ask the right questions."
"Should I decline then?"
Her father looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. I assume this is a test."
"A test?"
Marcus nodded. "A test. Note that Swain specifically told you to discuss this matter with me. He wants to know where I stand in all this. My reaction will basically determine whether he will consider me an ally or an obstacle from now on." Marcus let out a derisive snort. "He is trying to scare me into a corner to make me reveal my cards."
"I don't see how..?"
"If you decline, he will most likely think I am being cautious, because I know that there is more going on than what meets the eye. If you accept, he will expect you to act as my spy and he will reach the same conclusion, if you are revealed."
"Then what do we do? It sounds like he will consider you an obstacle either way."
"Simple, you don't give him the impression of being a spy. The reason he is bothering with this at all means he is uncertain how much I actually know. Even if I opposed him during the meeting, I only ever presented perfectly reasonable counter arguments from a military perspective. For all he knows I was merely acting, as a General should, in Noxus' best interest based on logic he, as a tactician, finds perfectly sensible."
Katarina was starting to see what her father was getting at. I hate politics. "So our standing with General Swain hinges on me being able to avoid blowing my cover as your informant?"
"That's right."
"You don't seem too worried."
"Should I be? I have faith in your ability to see this through. You are my daughter after all."
ooOoo
There was a soft click as she carefully closed the door behind her. It was a strange sensation. She was just closing a door, but it meant so much more. For nearly three months this had been her home. During that time, this had been the only place she had felt remotely safe, even if she knew better than to ever feel safe under her circumstances. This was the last time she was ever going to close that door and so she found her hand lingering on the doorknob a few seconds longer than it had to. She berated herself for her sentimentality she should be above such things. She was better trained than that. Yes, it was time she returned to her real home. A grand city with golden spires a continent away and there was no time to lose. Only hours earlier, she had infiltrated a war council as one of Captain Hawthorn's personal escorts. The Demacian legislative needed to know what had transpired during that meeting and Ionia had to be warned of the impeding Noxian invasion.
She let out a quiet sigh and started walking down the street. It was a chilly night and her breath drew small white clouds in the air. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and gazed up at the moon. It was cold and uninviting, much like the city. She used to love the moon. When she was little she would beg her older brother to take her outside after bedtime so they could look at the moon and stars together. It felt like a very long time ago. Now the moon was just a painful reminder of happier days. She scoffed at her self-pity. It really should be beneath her.
Her soft footsteps on the cobblestones were the only sound to break the stillness of the night, but she knew better than to think herself alone. In Noxus someone or something was always watching, the shadows had eyes and ears here and though the black steel armor she wore would make most low-lives think twice before trying something, it did not guarantee her safety. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not even for a second.
She passed a hooded figure, who saluted her as she went by. She saluted him back almost out of habit. It wasn't until she rounded the corner of the street that she noticed the man had started following her. She picked up her pace slightly, but did not divert from her intended path. Running was not an option, it would look suspicious. She put her hand to the hilt of the sword she wore at her side. It brought less comfort than she had hoped. She could defend herself with a blade, but she was no fighter and she couldn't risk using her magic for fear of blowing her cover. She headed down a smaller alley and stopped to chance a backwards glance. The figure had vanished.
As she scouted for him with a growing sense of apprehension, she caught a glint of steel in the moonlight in the periphery of her vision. She scrambled to draw her sword, but it was already too late, and the full weight of a grown man bore down on her, his blade carving a crimson path down her arm, when she put it up to defend herself. She managed to choke back a scream as she resorted to clawing desperately at the man's face in what she knew would be a hopeless struggle. The man grinned – a cruel, chastising grin, clearly savoring the sensation of having her completely at his mercy, after easily overpowering her. She could barely breathe, let alone move as he sat himself on her stomach, pinning both of her wrists to the ground above her head with just one hand.
Her mind went into overdrive as she desperately tried to think of something – anything that might get her out of her current predicament, but she couldn't think for the thundering sound of blood rushing in her ears. It felt like her heart was trying to leap out her chest and her breaths came out in short, rapid bursts, even as she tried to stay in control. She was terrified. Mousy brown hair changed to vibrant gold, muddy, green eyes to piercing blue and lines of stress and age were replaced by smooth, pale skin, as her illusion faltered in her panic. If the situation had been different she would have laughed at the man's reaction, he had the most comical look of surprise, as he watched her change with wide open eyes and a gaping mouth. But there really was nothing to laugh about. It only took the man seconds to regain his composure and put his knife to her throat. She glared up at him, though she wanted to cry, she kept defiance in her gaze. She was a Demacian after all and Demacians died proudly.
She was waiting for the inevitable, when the pressure of the cold steel against her neck suddenly lessened and the grip that held her wrists grew slack. With morbid fascination she watched, as a fine trail of blood paved its way from her assailant's mouth and down his chin. His eyes widened slightly before rolling backwards into a fixed stare and a choked gasp escaped his throat, as he collapsed on top of her, a throwing-knife embedded in his back. For a moment she just lay there, stunned, unable to process what had just transpired. When she finally looked up she was met with a pair of intense, hazel eyes. The eyes of her savior, the very same hooded figure she had saluted just minutes before.
ooOoo
Talon could scarcely believe what he was seeing. The girl was so much younger than he had expected. Fourteen? Maybe fifteen. For a nation that prided itself on righteousness and superior morals, Demacia sure as hell didn't seem to care much about letting children do their dirty work. Talon scoffed, he wasn't entirely sure why his master had bothered to task him with babysitting a Demacian spy of all things, but it was not his place to question the General's orders. "Get up."
Though he kept his voice low and his tone neutral, the girl still flinched at his words, her wide, blue eyes blinking rapidly as she seemingly fought to compose herself. It clearly took her some effort, but she managed to push the corpse off and stand up without his help. Talon noted how she clutched her left arm, where blood had darkened the color of her sleeve. They would have to take care of that later, or it might become a hindrance. Before that however, there were more pressing matters to attend to, like getting out of the Noxian capital alive. He motioned for her to follow him. She didn't.
"Who are you?"
Oh for the love of…He turned halfway to glare at her. Clearly she didn't realize the danger she was in and how much was at stake for him and his master, or she might have chosen a better time and place to ask questions. "The only thing you should be concerned with right now is getting back to Demacia."
A look of surprise came over the girl's face, but it only lasted a second, before she puffed out her cheeks much like a child would and crossed her arms, giving him an imperious look. Talon raised an eyebrow, quite unimpressed by her posturing. She looked ridiculous, wearing armor that was much too big for her slight, lithe form. "Yes it does matter, would you follow a complete stranger in enemy territory without any kind of explanation? You could be leading me into an ambush."
Talon rolled his eyes. "If I wanted you dead, I would not have bothered to intervene before."
"You could have staged this scenario in an attempt to gain my trust."
Talon regarded her silently for a moment. She was no longer shying away from him, meeting his gaze head on with those piercing blue eyes of hers. The girl did have a point, but they really couldn't afford to waste any more time.He pointed to the corpse at her feet. "This man was one of Swain's assassins. Swain knows what you are, so you can be certain there will be more of them," he said matter-of-factly. "I can get you out of the capital safely, but if you refuse my help well, good luck." Talon turned his back on the young Demacian and began to walk away, making sure to walk slowly. Now all he had to do was wait a few seconds and…
"Wait! Look, I do not trust you, but," she hesitated, her brave, little façade cracking for a second, "considering the circumstances, going with you would not even hurt my chances, would it?"
Talon wasn't sure whether she was asking him or debating with herself. All he really cared about at present was getting a move on. "I don't care how you choose to rationalize it. If you've made up your mind, follow me and be still." The girl glared at him indignantly, but fell into step behind him without uttering another word.
ooOoo
They had been walking for hours, only exchanging words when absolutely necessary. The stench of the sewer was barely tolerable and their only source of light was a small makeshift torch that did little more than ensure they could stay clear of sewer water – most of the time anyway. They had come across quite a few rats during their little trek, but had so far managed to avoid other humans. Talon scoffed. The people who lived in Noxus' gutters were mostly pathetic, sorry creatures with little purpose to their existence. Talon knew. He had been one of them, calling this labyrinth of piers home a long time ago. He glanced back at the young blonde, still following him like a bizarre, second shadow. She looked absolutely misplaced in the sewers, with her fine, golden hair and overall delicate features, yet she had not complained, not even about the stench. Or the wound on her arm... Talon let out a sigh and held up a hand motioning for her to stop.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on him. In case he was going to try something Talon assumed, as if that would have made a difference.
"We need to do something about your arm."
"What?"
"Your arm," he pointed to the wounded limb, she was still clutching tightly. "You can't go on like this." He was stating a fact, she looked exhausted, her face paler, her eyes less vibrant and her breath slightly faster than when he had first seen her. She looked at him in disbelief at first, but nodded in consent after glancing at her bloody, ruined sleeve. She vied slightly away from him, as he approached, turning her face to the side, a slight blush on her cheeks. Whether she was embarrassed for getting wounded or because he was moving too close for comfort, Talon couldn't say. Demacians were generally standoffish, only really intimate with close friends and family, so it could be either.
"Show me your arm." She hesitated for a moment, before relenting wordlessly, still refusing to look at him. He was none too gentle, when he tore off the blood drenched sleeve. She winced slightly and stifled a surprised whimper. Under different circumstances, he might have been inclined to apologize, but he really didn't have time for treating her like glass. Besides, she was Demacian. Talon had seen worse of course, but it was still a nasty gash, spanning almost the entire length of her forearm, cutting well into the muscle in places. Well, at the very least no bone was showing.
Talon cleaned the wound as best he could, scrubbing at it with the cleanest piece of cloth he could find in his possession. It was less than ideal, but it would have to do. After the cleaning, he bandaged it, nice and tight, in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. He let his hand linger briefly on her arm. Apart from the initial whimper, the girl had made no sound throughout the whole ordeal and he really had not been very considerate. Secretly, he was impressed, something that happened rarely, but this stubborn, little girl had taken everything he'd thrown at her to this point in stride. He shook his head. She was still a Demacian.
"Let's move. It's not far to the surface now."
ooOoo
It was snowing, when they finally made it out of the Noxian sewers. After coping for hours with the putrid stench of rot and various unmentionables, she appreciated a breath of fresh air more than ever, even if the cold made her shiver. The outlet was a good distance away from the outmost city wall well hidden from curious eyes amongst a myriad of boulders and loose rocks on a steep hillside. She glanced at her hooded guide, wondering what would happen now that they had made it this far. He had promised to get her out of the Noxian capital and he had stayed true to his word, he had no obligation to help her further. "I can take it from here, she said, trying to sound more confident than she was feeling."
The Noxian stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "Is that so?"
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. It annoyed her to no end that she couldn't get a proper read of his expression, hidden as it was beneath the shadow of his hood. "Look I am grateful for your help, but I can manage the rest by myself. I have allies nearby who…"
He held up a hand to silence her mid-sentence. "You had allies. They were stationed in a small farm house about three and a half miles west of where we are now, just a little way off the road. Don't bother going there. They're dead, who do you think gave you up?"
It took her some effort to hold her composure. If what he said was true, then she was practically stranded. She might be out of the capital, but she was still in Noxus. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists to stop them from trembling. The road back home had already been a daunting endeavor, now it was impossible. What do I do now? What do I..?
She yelped with surprise, at the sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder. "Stay focused, just follow my lead," the Noxian said his voice even and low, before he let go of her. It was somehow sobering, the words of this mysterious companion of hers. 'Just follow my lead.' What choice did she have? She smiled bitterly once he looked away. What would her mother say if she knew she had entrusted a Noxian stranger with her life? She shook her head, almost chuckling, taking some pleasure in imagining her mother's indignant expression. She would be furious for sure.
They stayed clear of the roads, as they made their way across the landscape in silence. An hour passed by, or maybe two? She was finding it difficult to keep track of time. All she could do was watch the ground, as it was covered by a thin, white blanket. Behind them, the silhouette of Noxus' skyline, with Skull Mountain towering in the center was framed against the deep blue canvas of the dark ocean beyond the city. Looking back at all the little lights it was hard, even for a born and raised Demacian, to deny that Noxus held some beauty and grandeur. She stopped and looked at the young man walking slightly ahead of her. He had taken an enormous risk by helping her like he did tonight.
"What?"
"Nothing." She sent him a sheepish smile, slightly embarrassed that she had been caught staring. He rolled his eyes at her and continued moving. Not all things Noxus were bad after all it seemed.
She was lost in her own thoughts, when the Noxian diverted from the narrow path they had been following and led her into a small grove of trees. Two horses, packed with provisions and well hidden from view stood waiting for them. Without a word, he handed her the reins of one of the horses, a fox-colored gelding. She took them hesitantly and sent him a questioning look, but he ignored her silent plea for answers and went to mount the other horse, a dark brown mare.
"My orders are to see you safely back in Demacian territory. Who I take orders from is irrelevant. We have our own reasons for wanting you alive, you'll learn why soon enough." She nodded, knowing that asking any further questions would be met with either a snarky remark or a wall of silence. This man only provided answers when he felt so inclined, not when he was asked. It was the only thing she really knew about him.
"Can you take me to Northglen Garrison then? It is a Demacian outpost just a few miles west of your borders not far from the wellspring of the Serpentine River in the Howling Marshes." She practically held her breath as she waited for his answer.Was she asking too much?
"Alright," he answered hesitantly, urging his horse forward into a trot. "Now hurry up."
She could barely contain the dazzling smile that split her face. 'The Demacian Prince and Crownguard are pushing our borders along the Serpentine.' The words General Du Couteau had uttered during the Noxian war council were fresh in her memory. How many years had it been now? She followed suit, urging her horse into a quick trot to catch up with her Noxian companion. I will see you soon brother…
ooOoo
A/N: And that's it for the fourth installment. I apologize for taking so long this time around. I never meant for it to take three and a half months for an update. That's right it's really been that long! I have had exams, and moved out of home along with a bunch of other real life things. On top of that I was stuck on the war meeting forever ugh it was really a challenge to write. It took me a month before I was somewhat happy with it. Hopefully it won't come across as too boring. It is a necessary evil for setting up the plot. Also I ended up cutting this chapter short lest it becomes too long, it's already longer than the previous one, sitting comfortably above the 8000 words mark. In any case, as always reviews and other forms of feedback are greatly appreciated and again, sorry for the long wait this time around.
Here comes the skippable lore section. It almost feels obligatory for me to write one by now. Reading the lore revolving around the whole Ionian invasion ordeal mentioned in the god old Journal of Justice, it was hard for me to place it timeline wise, because as far as I could see the event happened during the whole Kalamanda thing. This is very unpractical as Katarina plays a major role in both. Basically, I have decided that the Ionian invasion came first because it makes more sense in my plot and can clear up some of the issues presented by the fact that Katarina supposedly takes part in two major conflicts at once with half a continent in between. I suppose it would work in the old lore considering teleport and such, but summoners are not cannon anymore, hence I am very very very hesitant about going anywhere near summoner spells… I hope you can understand and that this won't discourage any of you from staying with the story.
Until next chapter:
~WhiteWinterDragon
