A/N: Characters, locations, storyline and universe © Riot Games
This story is rated M for violence, death, sexual themes and occasionally language.
And here it is. Chapter seven, I know we are making slow plot progression, mainly because I'm taking forever to update, but soon all the pieces will be in place and the world will come crashing down around our dear OTP. Until then please bear with me. As always thank you to those who follow, favorite and review this story. I greatly appreciate your feedback. Enjoy!
~WhiteWinterDragon
Chapter VII
All the Best Laid Plans
Luxanna kept her gaze downcast, her expression blank and her hands neatly folded in her lap – a position she had held ever since the interrogation started. An interrogation… She scoffed internally. For how long had mission reports felt more like interrogations? Though she was seated in one of the lush, silken armchairs in the Crownguard Mansion's foyer, it provided her with no comfort. It was not her home anymore, not really. Everything, from the shining, white marble floor, to the silken draperies and the intricate, gilded woodworks felt cold – cold and hollow. Like her mother who was currently standing off to the side of the room, her arms crossed and her face a taut, disapproving mask. Lelia had been furious upon learning that she had asked Garen of all people to sit through this as her confidante. Lux chanced a sideways glance at her brother, who was seated next to her, his hulking frame comically squeezed into a similar chair that was much too small for him. He did not bother to hide his growing annoyance, as the 'interrogation' continued into its third hour, looking very much like he wanted to throttle everyone. Lux had the decency to feel a small pang of guilt, for making him endure this, but was nevertheless glad that she had. Her brother had quite a presence and watching almost everyone else in the room tread glass around him helped make it all a little more bearable for its sheer comic value.
The man in charge of asking the questions, Sir William de Chalon, the head of the off-record part of the Demacian intelligence division was a rather gruff-looking man. His face had molded itself into a state of permanent frowning over the duration of at least half a century and his eyes were piercing and narrow and almost entirely hidden beneath his bushy, grey eyebrows. Lux had only encountered him briefly before, when she had been filing in reports on her infiltration progress. She could respect his professionalism, but had little like for him otherwise. He was harsh and stoic and a prime example of the empty shells that were the tragic results of Demacia's military indoctrination.
Sir William was flanked by two others. On his right sat Lady Cassandra Marvelle, a distant relative of the late house Vayne. She was somewhere in her mid-thirties, had dark hair and deep-set blue eyes that held a slightly nervous gleam. Lux was only vaguely familiar with her, as Lady Cassandra primarily served as a scribe and archivist for the Demacian court and her function in this, as in most other matters was merely to record the proceedings. On Sir William's left sat none other than General Gaius Malcavian, a longtime friend of her parents and Garen's immediate superior. According to Garen he had been one of the more vocal of the nobles during his and Jarvan's appeal to the Demacian legislative – questioning the validity of her information on the Noxus-Ionian War amongst other things. At a guess Lux assumed that his presence most likely meant that he wanted to hear her account for himself, she saw little other reason for him to be there.
"We only have superficial knowledge of Noxus' infrastructure. Surely there must have been more to such a miraculous escape?" Sir William's voice was dry and scratchy, like sand on old parchment.
You have no idea…"Like I wrote in my official report," Lux sighed; "I had help from one of the locals."
Gaius Malcavian let out a derisive snort, earning a sour look from Garen, which he pointedly ignored. "Come now Miss Crownguard, no Noxian has ever done anything out of the goodness of their heart. What were you asked to do in return for safe conduct?"
Lux could feel Garen tense up next to her and prayed that no one else noticed, because her brother couldn't lie convincingly to save his life. She kept up her neutral expression, adding a bit of exasperation just for theatrical flair. "I was saved on a whim, nothing more nothing less, at least that is the impression I was given. If there was some hidden purpose to it all, my savior certainly did not bother to share it with me." The lie came easily, she had been lying consistently for nearly half of her life and oftentimes she found that lies were more comfortable to deliver than the truth – a sad notion really. Jarvan, Garen and she were the only people who knew of the letter she had returned with and they had all agreed to keep it that way for now. Although it was vague, the possibility of treachery implied in it would no doubt incite an avalanche of scandals, accusations and mindless slander and the last thing Demacia needed right now was instability and power plays amongst the noble houses.
Sir William regarded her carefully for a moment, studying every detail of her face no doubt. Every flicker of her eyes, every bead of sweat on her brow, every stutter in her voice or hesitation in her words, any weakness would be instantly preyed upon. Lux had had worse – much, much worse. And so she gave him nothing, nothing but a polite, tired expression and a somewhat bubbly demeanor fit for a harmless teenager, who had no reason to lie and nothing to hide. The old man nodded slowly. "Can you tell us more about the man who helped you then Luxanna?"
Lux did not have to lie much this time. "He never told me his name, nor did he ever fully show me his face."
"You spent three weeks with him and never saw his face?" interrupted General Malcavian, his voice and expression more than just a little skeptical.
"He kept his hood up at all times, but was fairly adept at making fish stew, if that is any help?" Lux shrugged innocently.
"Unbelievable. Are you even taking this seriously?"
"My apologies General Malcavian, fact of the matter is that I can tell you precious little of value. The man who helped me escape was: young, average height, athletically built, quiet, very reserved and overall extremely guarded upon approach," she said, listing all the qualities that came immediately to her mind when thinking of the young Noxian who helped her. "While I wish he helped me for the sake of my blue eyes only, I got the impression that he was taking orders from a powerful individual, who, I assume, wanted me to reveal what I learned during the war council. Not everyone was in favor of the invasion you know." The room fell silent then, the only sound left being the furious scribbling of Lady Marvelle's feather-pen, which never seemed to pause. Lux took the silence as a good sign, her reasoning was sound and she had definitely given them something to think about. If nothing else she had at least managed to dodge the subject of the anonymous letter for now.
It felt like an eternity went by like that, before Garen, bless his soul, grew impatient and decided to speak. "Would that be all? Luxanna already supplied her written report. I'm sure you would have found the answers to most of your questions, if you had actually read it beforehand," he practically growled.
Lux had to suppress a smile. It was so like her brother to be blunt and direct to the point of being rude, even if he was merely stating a fact. Sir William looked positively offended, sputtering and muttering something under his breath. To be fair though, he definitely had read it. General Malcavian on the other hand was trying very hard to not seem too interested in the carvings of the table all of a sudden and Lady Cassandra actually had the decency to blush slightly.
"Look, it's getting late and Luxanna is still recovering, she needs her rest." Garen continued with poorly masked annoyance. Half true, Lux thought, faking a well-timed yawn for emphasis.
"I suppose we have heard enough," Sir William obliged hesitantly, as he got to his feet. "If you remember anything else of importance, or have an idea who orchestrated your rescue," he turned to Lux, "you know where to find me."
"Yes Sir," Lux said, offering a small, polite smile that fit the situation. Garen too got to his feet, easily towering above their three 'guests', as he walked them to the door like any good, Demacian host. Their mother offered them her polite farewells, as could be expected and then vacated the room without a word. Good, Lux had no wish to deal with her right now.
Finally alone in the room, Lux let out a tired sigh and let her facade falter. How she hated pretending to smile for the world, it was immensely tiresome to always put on an act. On the other hand, she was too afraid to stop, too afraid to show people who she truly was and how she felt. Too afraid of breaking the illusion she had held up for so many years now it seemed even more convincing than those she could create with her magic. She would be a stranger to everyone – Even herself. Lux was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't hear Garen return to the foyer. "Gods, I thought they would never leave!" He exclaimed, throwing up his hands, almost making Lux jump out of her chair. "Don't ever make me do that again."
Lux shook her head at her brother's antics, before regarding him quietly for a moment. She was not ready to share everything, but tonight had been the first time in years she had ventured to reach out for support. It was a small step on what she knew would be a long and rocky road, but her brother had not let her down.
"What?"
Lux shrugged somewhat shyly. "I just want to say thanks I guess… For being here even though you hate these things."
"You know I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to right?" he said seriously, moving to stand before her chair and crouching down, so that he could look her in the eyes.
"I know," Lux whispered, as she let herself be pulled into her brother's bearlike embrace. It still felt somewhat strange being hugged like that, but she'd get used to it. With time it would feel just like it had back when they were small children and the world was a place full of wonder.
"Don't make it a habit though, or I swear I'll end up on trial for spontaneous mass-murder sooner or later. Probably sooner…" Garen added as an after-thought. For once, Lux didn't have to pretend to laugh.
ooOoo
Garen rubbed his brow tiredly and leaned back to stretch. By the time he had finally been able to escape the questioning, it had already been late, now it was well past midnight. He glared at the heaps of documents that lay neatly stacked on the desk before him, half wishing they would burst into flame and disappear. Then again, he was there of his own free will. The good thing about working at the City Watch at nighttime was that there was no one else around, so he could actually get some work done. There were no incompetent guards who needed scolding for slacking off, no stuck up nobles wasting his time with their petty complaints and no infuriating vassals around to ask him if he wanted lemon with his tea. He didn't even drink tea! Not that they cared when he told them. Garen stifled a yawn and tried to gather his thoughts enough to actually read, but found it utterly impossible. "What am I doing here?" he mumbled to himself, running a hand down his face in exasperation. For the past two weeks, ever since Jarvan had left the capital, he had been working day and night to reform the City Watch on record time, so he could return to the front, where he belonged. Guard patrols, training protocols and law enforcement were not so bad, but the bureaucracy… "Sweet mother Demacia," Garen said, as he filed away another pointless formula about gardening disputes in the lower city. "You'd think people had more important things to worry about than bushes."
"You would be right."
Garen got to his feet and grabbed his sword in one swift motion, almost knocking the massive, wooden desk over in the process. Across the room, a woman leaned casually against his doorframe, looking rather unimpressed by his antics. Her long, raven hair was pulled back in a thick braid and her skin was almost ghostly pale, as if she deliberately stayed out of the sun. She was dressed in dark, form-fitting leather from her feet to her neck. At her back she wore an unusually shaped, scarlet cloak and a massive crossbow of a unique design. To top it all off, she wore a pair of tinted, red shades, whether they were for style or held an entirely different purpose, Garen could only guess.
"No need for that, I'm just here to talk," the woman said in a calm, rather deep voice, eying the sword, before closing the door behind her and moving to his desk.
"I'll be the judge of that after you introduce yourself."
The woman rolled her eyes, or at least Garen assumed she did, before replying in a mildly annoyed tone: "Most people know me as the 'Night Hunter', but you may call me Shauna."
"Right… So, you are that vigilante?"
"You have heard of me then? Good that makes this a lot simpler, even if that description hardly does me justice." Though the shades kept her eyes concealed, Garen could feel her glare at him for his comment. He did not know much about the Night Hunter. In truth, no one knew much about her. A few scattered rumors of her accomplishments were all he had to go on and for the most part he was skeptical about what he had heard.
Garen pinched the bridge of his nose before sitting back down. This was going to be one of those nights. "Alright let's say, for the moment I'll give you the benefit of the doubt since you haven't shot me. Why are you here?"
"Straight to business? I think I might learn to like you after all. This mean anything to you?" Shauna said sliding a small piece of paper across the desk before taking a step back and looking at him expectantly.
Garen regarded her warily, as he picked up the note. A single word was scribbled on it: "DSS Excursion? No, should it mean something to me?"
Shauna shrugged, "depends," she said, then dropped a heavy book she had kept concealed beneath her cloak on the desk, "does the City Watch care about missing people?"
Garen picked up the book and started pilfering through the pages. "This is… how did you get this?"
"I borrowed it."
"Of course you did," Garen drawled. In his hand he was holding the annual harbor log. Ships, arrivals, departures, cargo and crew were all recorded in there. "So DSS Excursion is a ship?"
"Was a ship – Look at the entry for the first of July this year."
Garen went to the respective page and furrowed his brow in confusion. "It says here that it returned on schedule loaded with various Ionian goods… Including some illegally imported rice wine. Go figure."
Shauna nodded, "so why do I have on the plus side of ten families claiming that the ship and her crew never returned from the sea?"
Garen narrowed his eyes and made his way to the shelves lining the room. "Well, the Watch deals with every crime and outlying occurrence inside the capital. If the crewmembers were reported missing, there should be a record of it in here somewhere." He spent several minutes going through everything that had been filed in July, August and even June, just to be safe, but came up short. "Nothing," he said.
"I expected as much," Shauna shrugged, "someone went to a great deal of trouble to ensure that everyone forgot this ship ever existed."
Garen nodded. "Anything else I should know?"
"As a matter of fact there is one more thing. I have pinpointed the approximate location of where the ship disappeared to a Southern region of the Guardian's Sea, a few miles out from the shores of Bilgewater."
"So piracy?"
That was my initial thought as well, but that does not explain why the location bore traces of necromantic magic."
"What? You are certain of this?" Shauna merely nodded her face grave. Garen let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, I'll look into it. How can I find you?"
"I'll find you."
"That's not very helpful…" But the woman had already disappeared, as silently and abruptly as she had entered, leaving Garen with a lot more questions than answers. "Figures…"
ooOoo
Though it was early morning, the snow-covered, cobblestoned streets of Demacia's market district were already buzzing with life, as people milled to and from the various karts and shops, buying and hackling goods of all kinds, most of them probably preparing for the upcoming celebration of Snowdown no doubt. Quinn had no problem getting through the crowd, as people tended to keep their distance and give her space as soon as they spotted Valor, who was currently perched on her shoulder. Though Quinn greatly preferred the outdoors to the city, the heart of the Demacian Capital never failed to inspire wonder. The domed and spired buildings around her had an almost pristine shine, as the bright morning sun reflected off the snow. You could easily get lost amongst the many market-stalls and spend hours just looking at wares that came from all over the world. It was a strange reminder somehow that there was so much outside Demacia's walls and borders she had yet to see. Her business was not at the market though, she was headed for the Dauntless Vanguard Head Quarters in the hopes that someone there could tell her how she was supposed to get in touch with the Prince. She preferred to avoid having to go to the palace and ask for an official audience, if that was at all possible. Captain Crownguard would know for certain, but considering that she had technically disobeyed a direct order from him, well, she'd prefer to avoid him too and so she was a little bit anxious as she spurred her horse forward.
Upon reaching the infamous barracks of Demacia's most elite fighting force, Quinn's immediate thought was that something was amiss. Minus a few stationary sentries, there was no one in sight. No sparring recruits, no ongoing inspections, nothing. The Dauntless Vanguard never slept in late, so where were all the soldiers?
"Excuse me?" Quinn said, riding up to the two sentries guarding the entrance to the barrack's courtyard. "Where is everyone?"
The two guards eyed Valor warily and then made a brief exchange of confused looks. "The Commander ordered the Vanguard to return to the front alongside Prince Jarvan roughly two weeks ago Miss," said one of them after a moment's silence.
Quinn's heart sank. "So the Prince has returned to the Marshes?"
"That's right."
"Fuck!" The two soldiers almost jumped at her sudden, very unladylike outburst. "Sorry, I just returned from the same front this morning and I have some urgent news for him."
The soldiers exchanged another look, this time even more confused. Quinn could only imagine what they must be thinking. The words weird and scandalous came to mind. "If it's any help, the Captain is still in the Capital, maybe he can be of assistance?" One of them said hesitantly.
Just my kind of luck… Quinn was not fond of the idea, she was unsure how the Commander of the Dauntless Vanguard would take the news that she and the Prince had gone against his orders behind his back. But what choice did she have? In the long run Captain Crownguard would have had to be informed about her findings too, she had just hoped the Prince would have handled that particular part. She let out a heavy sigh. "Where can I find Captain Crownguard?"
"He should be at the City Watch Headquarters as we speak Miss."
ooOoo
Quinn stared at the wooden door before her. For two whole minutes now, her fist had been frozen midair in the process of knocking, as she tried to decide how she was going to deal with the Dauntless Vanguard's infamous leader. Valor let out an annoyed squawk and flapped his wings impatiently. "I know I know Val it's just, maybe we should just go back to the garrison and…" Valor tilted his head and regarded her intensely with his large golden eyes. "You're right," Quinn sighed. "He respects honesty right? I should probably just tell him." Valor made an affirmative chirping sound and nipped at her earlobe, making her crack a small smile. "Here goes nothing," she said, letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She knocked delicately at first, then with increasingly more force as the door went unanswered. "Uhh Captain Crownguard? You in there Sir?" Still no answer. Okay this is weird. Quinn tried the door handle hesitantly. Upon finding that the door was not locked, she proceeded to push it open and was met with a sight she could have never prepared for.
The room was an absolute mess, heaps of books were stacked all over and scattered documents and maps covered pretty much every flat surface, including the floor. This in and of itself was weird and unusual enough, considering that the Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard was notorious for keeping everything neat and orderly, but it paled in comparison to the fact that the person in question was currently fast asleep, facedown by his desk. Quinn was mortified. How was she supposed to react? She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The scene was comical for sure, but the Commander might not think so and she honestly did not want to put his humor to the test. She was considering just making a silent, hasty retreat, so that she might return later and pretend this never happened, when Valor ruined her plans by letting out an ear piercing screech.
Garen bolted upright in his seat, wide-eyed and ramrod straight. Quinn was at a loss for words, frozen in place by the horror and sheer absurdity of the situation she found herself in. The Commander's hair was poking comically in every which way and he had smudges of ink on his cheek from resting his head on the desk. They stared at each other in silence for a couple of excruciatingly long seconds before Garen cleared his throat. "Well this is awkward."
"I can come back later if..?" Quinn stammered, pointing frantically at the door.
"No need, please sit," Garen said, rubbing his eyes, successfully smudging the ink around even more. Quinn eyed the chair she had been offered hesitantly, the seat was currently occupied by a large stack of papers about... Naval code? "Oh right," Garen mumbled, before leaning across the desk and casually swiping the documents to the floor upon realizing her dilemma. Quinn took the seat she was offered hesitantly and Valor left her shoulder in favor of a sunny spot on the window-sill.
"So, what brings you all the way to the capital ranger?"
"What? Right," Quinn muttered, wrenching her gaze from the ink-stains on Garen's face. "Please don't take this the wrong way Commander." Oh what a brilliant way to start out Quinn, way to go! Garen leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and lifting an eyebrow expectantly. "Uhh…" Valor let out a sharp chirp, as if saying: just get on with it. "The thing is, I tracked down the assassin who attacked your sister," Quinn said, rushing through the sentence in one breath. The Commander remained silent, regarding her carefully. His boring gaze made Quinn feel more than a little uncomfortable and she half wished that he would say something, anything to break the silence.
"Jarvan made you do it didn't he," he said after a minute or so of torturous scrutiny.
It wasn't a question, Quinn could tell that much from his tone, which to her surprise was quite neutral and not angry as she would have expected. "Did the Prince tell you?"
Garen shook his head. "He didn't have to. So, what did you find?"
Quinn was at a loss for words. Was that it? Not even a scolding, just straight on to the matter at hand just like that? "Sir I disobeyed a direct order?"
"Oh I'm sorry, did you want to get punished for insubordination?"
"No I…"
"Look, the way I see it, whatever happened was clearly important enough for you to come all the way here to report it, I assume you had hoped directly to the Prince?"
Quinn merely nodded, feeling her cheeks heating up, for being so blatantly called out on her exact intentions.
"Then, when you realized he's no longer in the capital, you came to me, despite knowing you would have to admit to my face that you went against my orders. Not many people do that Quinn."
Quinn shook her head and remained silent, unsure if he meant not many disobeyed him, or not many admitted to it. It was probably both.
The Commander let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "How about you just tell me what you found and I will assume you just followed the order you believed superior like any good soldier?"
Quinn could scarcely believe what she heard. He was offering her a way out. Maybe there was more to him than she had first assumed. She took a deep breath and nodded. "The assassin avoided the roads and stayed clear of Golden Crossing due to the Vanguard's presence, so Valor and I tracked him directly through the terrain. After a few days, we found him – well, we found his body, not far from the Serpentine. His wounds suggested he was killed by another assassin."
"Could be the same person who helped Lux escape Noxus," Garen muttered, looking thoughtful for a moment.
"Lux had help from a Noxian?"
Garen looked up, seemingly hesitant about what to say and Quinn suddenly got the feeling that there was a hell of a lot more going on than just an attempt to silence a spy. "Yes, my sister was rescued by a Noxian. His exact motives for doing so are so far unknown to us." Quinn didn't say anything but she could tell from the way he carefully picked his words that there was something he left out, something he wasn't telling her. She was in no position to demand answers, so she let the matter drop. For now anyway.
"There's also this," Quinn said handing Garen the map she had retrieved from the assassin's body. "I found this on the corpse." The Captain's brow furrowed and Quinn could not remember a time she had seen him looking so grim. She wondered briefly, if it would be alright for her to share her thoughts. He would not like what she had to say. "I think there might be a spy in the Vanguard, someone who has access to this kind of information," she supplied hesitantly.
Garen merely nodded then gave her an intense look she couldn't decipher. "I need you to do me a favor Quinn." Of all the things he could have said, this was not what Quinn had expected. "I need you to return to the Prince's side. As long as I am stuck here, my hands are tied and if the Noxians really do have a spy in my forces," Garen paused for a moment his hands curling into fists. "If they do have a spy in my forces, they will know that Jarvan is vulnerable right now and they will not hesitate to act upon that." He pulled out what looked to be a small, white chess-piece, a knight, and gazed at it for a moment before squeezing it in his massive hand. "After the scolding we got from the King he'll want to prove himself to his father. He'll be reckless Quinn, and he can't know what you are up to."
Quinn nodded. "I'll try my best Sir," she said. Though she didn't know him all that well, she had gotten the impression that he did not like her much, so she was surprised by the amount of trust he was willing to put in her.
Garen regarded her intently then looked to Valor. "Should anything happen, don't hesitate to send for me."
"Understood Sir."
ooOoo
It was cold and humid in the crypt, despite the many torches lining the walls. The ever present dull ache in his bad leg flared up all the worse for it, but he had learned to live with the constant pain – Learned to appreciate it in fact. It helped keep his mind sharp and focused and served as a constant reminder for the price of failure, the price of weakness. Speaking of failure… "Any progress on Project Rebirth Vladimir?" he rasped quietly, his words echoing in the vault-like room, as he addressed the flamboyant mage across the table.
"Sion has been successfully resurrected, but his mind is still shattered," Vladimir said, his voice guarded, clearly defensive.
"You promised me an undying, loyal soldier Vladimir. So far you have delivered an undead brute with no allegiance but his own base instincts."
Vladimir scoffed, a sly smirk creeping up on his pale lips. "I am a hemomancer, not a necromancer. I have to wonder, why did you choose to consult me and not Darkwill instead Swain?"
Swain did not miss the clever change of subject. Vladimir was not trying to avoid discussing Sion. He wanted to know of his intentions for Darkwill. Swain decided to indulge the younger man and answered his question honestly. "Darkwill is weak. He lacks the vision and the ambition to grant Noxus the glory she deserves. He prefers to hide behind the walls of his fortress, while the world forgets what it truly means to be a Noxian." He kept his tone neutral. Though it spurned him to see how Noxus had fallen under the rule of the current Grand General, showing such emotion would be a grave mistake, especially in his present company. Keep your friends close and your enemies guessing. It was one of Noxus' unspoken rules. He preferred to keep everyone guessing.
"So it's true then, you would see him gone?"
"Eventually yes, for the moment he still has his uses."
Vladimir met his gaze without wavering and Swain chose to keep his silence, giving the blood mage ample opportunity and time to consider his words. Eventually Vladimir broke their eye contact. "This invasion of yours then, is it the first step on the latter?"
"It is one step on the latter," Swain said dismissively.
Vladimir merely shrugged, clearly satisfied with his answer. Aside from some experimental weapons utilizing a blood virus he had developed, Vladimir had little interest in the coming war and Swain preferred to keep it that way. He looked to one of the other occupants in the room. "My Lady Elise, since Sion will be of no use to us in his current state I want you to…"
"I never said I could not restore Sion's mind," Vladimir interrupted, cockily brushing aside a few strands of silver hair. "If I had a proper medium to use for the ritual and amplify my spell, tempering his insanity should be a small feat."
"Very well, what do you need?"
"Just a bit of blood from the line of the man who slew him."
"Oh?" Interjected Le Blanc from the side, shifting in her chair, as the conversation finally caught her interest. "Would any Jarvan do?" she asked, looking to Vladimir.
"Do you have something in mind my dear?" Swain asked, intrigued, though he did not show it.
A devilish smile crossed the trickster's features. "The Demacian King and the Crown Prince have had a, shall we say falling out? Jarvan IV has been ordered to push into Noxian territory from their garrison in the Howling Marshes. His pride is wounded and he is eager to impress, if we dangle some bait he is very likely to leave himself exposed. What's more, his guard dog is currently tied up in the Demacian Capital. If we play our cards right, this could be a golden opportunity."
Swain nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose we could lure him in with the prospect of an easy victory and then crush him as soon as he is isolated." A small, thin smile found its way to his lips at the prospect. "I shall dispatch a force to handle this matter."
"There is something else I would like to discuss," Le Blanc said, eyeing the other two occupants in the room intently.
"Very well. Elise, Vladimir, leave us." If Elise took offense to being so casually dismissed, she did not show it, Vladimir on the other hand looked displeased, but vacated the room without another word regardless.
Now, as they were alone in the crypt, his advisor changed demeanor, her tone losing its playfulness. "It is as you thought. Luxanna Crownguard had help."
Swain merely nodded, when one of his assassins turned up dead in a Noxian back alley, he had assumed as much. His second assassin had yet to be return, which probably meant that he too was lying dead somewhere. "Any clues, as to who orchestrated her escape?"
Le Blanc sighed. "The girl has not been particularly forthcoming with details surrounding the man who assisted her. Either she is knowingly omitting information to protect him, or he took extreme care not to reveal anything about himself."
"He would have been a fool if he didn't," Swain said. "And the excursion to the Kumungu she took part in? How much do the Demacians know?"
A snide smirk grazed Le Blanc's lips. "The Demacians are under the impression that all this was tied to the Ionian War and the girl does not seem to realize the importance of what she witnessed in the Kumungu." She laughed mockingly. "Even after all that they fail to see the whole board."
"Good," Swain said, "I can deal with complications for the Ionian Campaign, but it would not be ideal for our enemies to know the scope of my plans yet. We cannot afford to be discovered at this early stage."
A nod was all Swain got in response. She liked to mock, but she knew well what was at stake. "I do not think Demacia represents the greater threat in that regard," she said seriously. "Whoever helped that girl could very well know more of what is going on than they let on." She paused, studying her nails silently for a moment. "If you are that worried about the Demacians, I could get rid of the girl. Poison perhaps, or an accident?"
Swain shook his head. "If we continue to target her, they are bound to realize that there is something amiss. No, for now, I merely want you to continue keeping an eye on things in Demacia."
"And what of the traitor?"
"I will deal with the traitor."
ooOoo
And that's it for the seventh chapter in this epic. I shall refrain from showering you all with excuses for why it took me so long to update and simply say, sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen. I almost want to call this chapter: 'The Plot Thickens' but since that is incredibly silly, I will settle for saying it here. The Plot Thickens! There I got that out of my system. I hope I was able to convey a believable Swain in the end, it is quite a challenge to let your reader enter the mind of your villain and let them share his thoughts without spoiling his masterplan and still make it all enticing enough to keep it interesting with vague hints. It was fun to try though. Other than that this chapter mostly serves to further establish relationships between characters and build up for future events. As always, review, favorite, follow, let me know what you think, I do take your opinions into consideration.
On that note, I received some questions in the reviews for the previous chapter and I never got down to answering them in a PM, so I'll supply them here for all to see instead. I'm thinking of the question about a possible romance for Lux and Talon. The way I see it, Lux and Talon can have very interesting interaction and character dynamic, when considering the nature and personality of the two. However they do not really have any interaction whatsoever in the lore and I am trying to stay as true to that as possible. If I am to include a romance for Talon, I would direct it more towards a Talon/Quinn, but it would not be a focus in this story, as the main characters are Katarina and Garen. I do love the Lux/Talon ship though and Talon/Quinn too, both are believable and both are charming in their own way. If it has any interest I could write a Talon/Lux standalone one-shot, let me know if that is a thing in the reviews. Another thing regarding character relations, as I see it Garen and Quinn have a generally unexplored dynamic and since I do not care much for the 'common vs. nobility' thing that most fanfics seem to push on them, I decided to go a slightly different route. To me, the two are very different, but that's a good thing. Quinn is honest to a fault, something Garen can probably respect even if she steps out of line to speak her mind. Garen is head strong and resolute, so he can benefit from someone like Quinn, who's bold enough to share her perspective on things, even if it makes her uncomfortable, and since Quinn is not unreasonable I believe she can probably see that there is a purpose to Garen's harshness as well. After writing this chapter I have half a mind to start a series about their wacky adventures as a mismatched pair of friends or something. Just imagine the two as a law enforcement partnership… I'm still laughing. Oh and that bush joke by the way… I have no regrets!
Now all that is left to say is: Until the next installment!
~WhiteWinterDragon
