A/N: Happy 1 year anniversary ASM... God this is not going as fast as I wanted. I know what you're all thinking... OMG You posting a chapter 2 times in the same month~? MADNESS.

Anyways, a special thanks to all of you tagging along on your little adventure. More to come soon~ Very Soon. Now that I actually am not drowning in college paper work.

Leave a Review, tell me what you think! They help a lot and I love to read them!

Chapter 19: A Conflict of Interest

The bar wasn't as rowdy as it usually was after a long day of matches. A sore and silent Katarina sat at the end of the long bar top alone and fiddled with the glass of alcohol sitting before her, finger on the inside rim of the glass and rotating the container lazily. The assassin didn't heed the massive man behind the bar top as he started to chat to her.

"Long day, eh?" The Rabble Rouser's breath reeked of its typical drunken aroma. The bar top creaked uncomfortably as Gragas rested his massive elbow onto the bar top next to the quiet Noxian, "what's troublin' ya, lass?" Gragas asked as his particuarily fat fingers held a small drinking glass gingerly as he continued to dry it clean.

Katarina didn't say anything, she simply shrugged.

"I'ma gonna guess that shomethin' ish on ya mind," Gragas burped softly, which made Katarina's lips twitch towards a smile.

Katarina turned her head as some yelling and breaking glass could be heard down the table. The assassin flinched and saved her glass from spilling as Gragas slammed his fist down onto the bar top.

"Ey! Ya' Rat Bastards! This ain't the place fer yer' bullshit!" Gragas' voice was loud enough to make the two large men at the end of the bar top look back over towards Katarina and Gragas.

"Ahhhhh shut up, Graggy!" Olaf laughed from across the bar, "Trynda and I just havin' a little fun is all!"

The Barbarian King gave a hearty laugh.

Katarina rolled her eyes and went back to toying with her glass, ignoring the joyus barking of the loud men at the bar.

Once Gragas quelled his laughter he turned back to the distracted Noxian fiddling with her glass once again. He sighed, "You know what always cheered me up whenever I felt down, lass?"

"Please, not tonight, Gragas," Katarina sighed.

"Ahh, come on, you. Noxian or not, it ain't illegal to smile," Gragas nudged the assassin's shoulder, "which I know you do a lot of 'round 'ere," he whispered toward Kat.

A small smile played at the assassin's expression as she playfully pushed the Rabble Rouser back away. The Tavern he ran was deemed a place of enjoyment, no matter the faction. The League didn't bother to regulate strict rules since it was a place of comfort and relaxation for every member of the Institution from Summoner to Champion. All were welcome. If anyone wanted to fight in the bar, it wasn't people of their opposing rivals they had to worry about, but everyone else. To avoid such conflicts completely, people chose to sit with people of their own factions, though some were more than happy to integrate and enjoy themselves.

Gragas started to tap the table top infront of the assassin, "ya' know what they say 'bout the taverns of Noxus after the set of day?"

Katarina blinked and rose a crimson brow.

"The best pleasures of Noxus came from the underground Taverns deep in the Mountain's heart," Gragas said as he continued the steady tapping of his hand upon the bar top, "and trust me, lass, Noxian brews are a work of art. Do you want to why?"

The assassin leaned back a bit in her stool, "uhm...?'

"Because they're STRONG, lass!" Gragas roared proudly before he hushed his voice and began to quietly chant a drinking song.

"Here we brew the Noxus best, it's sure to put hair on yer' chest."

"Boy or Girl?"

"It matters not!"

"Liquors will make your blood run hot."

"To free thyself of all yer' woes, a Taverns a place everyone goes."

"So drown out power, struggle and greed,"

"With a big ole mug of mead!"

"HA!"

"You think you're strong?"

"You won't last long."

"When the beer flows, you'll chant along."

"So grab a glass and chug it fast."

"It'll put you on yer' ass!"

"I assume you went to the Academy, yes?" Gragas asked while he continued his steady beat upon the smooth wooden surface.

Katarina nodded. She was actually enjoying the song Gragas had for her.

"Hey!"

"The Noxus Military School."

"The people claim to be MOST cruel."

"Here's a little street rat rule."

"THERE'S NOTHING WORSE THAN GUTTER GRUEL!"

"The alcohols now in demand."

"Be careful gents! Watch your hands!"

"If she smacks you upside yer' dome, that's a sign to take 'er home!"

Gragas bellowed out a joyous laugh and took a large gulp of beer from a hefty mug he filled while entertaining the Noxian sitting at his bar table. "I learned that one a great many years ago from a Noxian brewer in the outer city. Believe it or not, some of them old military bars make some great booze." The Rabble Rouser winked at the now smiling assassin, "nothing makes a person smile more than a good ole dose o' home, lassy." Gragas raised his mug towards Katarina.

Katarina chuckled lightly and shook her head, lifting her own glass to Gragas in return. She was a regular here, so it didn't feel strange for her to smile around a neutral friend like Gragas. "You're right," the assassin sighed, "I do miss home a bit."

"Is that all that's troublin' ya?" Gragas asked, as he started to clean another glass.

The assassin sighed. Katarina and Gragas both turned their attention as the doors to the bar busted open.

"DRRRAAAAVEN, DOES IT ALL!" The Glorious Executioner followed up his introduction with none other than his signature laugh as he approached the bar.

Darius' hulking armor clinked with every floor creaking step he took as he slowly followed Draven in, stopping then to allow Swain, accompanying Le Blanc, to walk in before he followed. This wasn't a normal crowd to see at all.

"Draven wants a beer, now!" Draven shouted down the bar table towards Gragas, who was still standing by Katarina. "Well, well, well, Draven didn't know you liked 'em hearty, Kitty," he snickered.

Katarina shot Draven a glare that was sharper than any blade she could ever throw at him.

"Draven," Darius' voice was low.

"What, bro? Draven was just messin' around."

The massive Noxian General stood there by his younger brother until Draven dismissed himself to go sit with the rest of the Noxian champions that decided to meet at the bar. Darius' steely eyes quietly focused on Katarina sitting at the end of the bar, she in return staring back. "You're welcome to join us if you so choose to, Du Couteau," he offered as he turned away to return to the table in the corner of the bar.

Katarina merely watched the General walk away. The assassin sneered and turned back forward, "politics, Gragas."

The large champion raised a brow towards Katarina, who again, was fiddling with her glass.

"Noxus has festered into nothing but a popularity contest and whoever has the most followers kissing their ass. The old ideals are dead," Katarina looked down at her reflection in the glass before her, "and the people that still believe in them either conform, die or leave." Thoughts of her father's teachings started to crowd her mind. Katarina shook her head.

"Do ya' honestly believe in that, lass? That there isn't a single person in Noxus that wishes for true strength to lead again?" Gragas asked as he watched Katarina. Once she didn't respond he leaned down onto the table again, "I assume you know that Riven is suspended?"

"I don't care," Katarina grumbled.

"I may be an old drunk, but that voice says otherwise," Gragas responded.

"She's a cowardly deserter and nothing more," Katarina growled, "a real Noxian would come back and fight for the wrongs to be set right, not hide away like a stray dog with its tail between its legs and crawling into the Institute of War because it came to realize it had no place to go."

Gragas straightened back up and shrugged his large shoulders, "if you say so, lass." The Rabble Rouser walked away to help serve more customers as the bar started to become crowded.

The now head of the Du Couteau house sat there for a couple moments longer. Katarina slammed her fists down onto the table top before getting up and storming out of the bar, not sparing a glance towards the table where the head of her country sat. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as Katarina walked down the hallway towards the Institute's great hall. There was nothing else in this world she hated to do more than stand before the Regal blues and golds of the hideous proud honor of Demacian decor; but she did so, for reasoning not even she could pin point.

There was a line Katarina dared not cross. Even within the Institute, a Noxian or a Demacian crossing into the housing zones of said factions opposition could result in serious repercussions. The assassin scowled, standing outside the boundary line.

We can take her from here, Leona.

Riven, please, be the bigger person and walk away.

The cracking sound of popping knuckle bones fell silent upon Katarina's ears while her brain recalled the faceoff between General Darius and that traitor who befriended a Demacian and an Ionian. How dare they tell a Noxian to back down. How dare that coward listen to them. Disgraceful. Katarina could feel her very nerves and muscles start to twitch with growing anger just thinking about Riven anymore. For all she was concerned, Riven died in a fire many years ago. Feeling frustrated, and the looming banners of Demacia making her stomach roll in disgust, Katarina turned on her heel to walk away.

Of course this would happen to her, this is just how her day has been going. Seeing people she'd rather not see. Ever.

Fiora Laurent stood before Katarina, proud and tall with a stature that only the most pompous of Demacian rats would ever display, her voice even more cocky than her posture, "vat are you doing 'ere, Noxian?"

"That's none of your concern," Katarina growled viciously, standing her ground, "I never crossed the line, so back off, Baguette Muncher."

"Vat did you call me?" Fiora scowled.

"You heard me," Katarina cared not to repeat herself to Demacia's Grand Duelist.

"You best mind your tongue," Fiora grumbled, "but zat iz to be expected of zum Noxian dog vith daddy issues. Zuch a patetic vaste. To sink you call yourself a Nobell 'ouse of Noxus, vat a shame."

Katarina grit her teeth and glared angrily back at the head of the Laurent house of Demcian nobility.

Fiora's expression faded back to its normal high horse self-centered look, "not zat it matt'eres. It zeemz you 'ave forgotten zee last time a Du Couteau crossed bladez vith a Laurent," Fiora gave a smug smile, "it did not end vell for zem."

Katarina could feel her blood start to boil.

"Who vas it again? Your great grandfaz'ere?" Fiora looked off and tapped her own chin in sarcastic wonder as if she was actually trying to remember who it was. She shrugged her shoulders, "it matt'erez not," Fiora looked back at the shaking assassin standing in her presence, "zum namez are just not verth remembering."

"I'll cut that tongue from your mouth!" Katarina roared, unsheathing her weapons from her back and lowering her stance.

"En garde, I'll give you anoz'ere scar to match!" Fiora quickly drew her sword in return.

This was a direct violation of the Institute's laws of engagement.

These were two very proud women, and they cared little for the rules.

Katarina was the first to lash out, emotions flared, strikes swift and accurate. The counter clashing of steel only enraged her more. The assassin quickly sprung backward away from the Demacian steel driving toward her.

Fiora's eyebrows pulled together as a whistling sound cut through the air. The Grand Duelist swatted the steel darts from the air with her blade like a cat would to a pestering insect. "Too slow!" She gloated and brought her blade back to the ready. "My turn!" Fiora lunged forward toward Katarina.

Katarina quickly reacted, tapping into her many years of elusive discipline her father had physically beat into her very nature.

When the tip of Fiora's blade hit the floor she turned her head back to where she was once standing, the tap of Katarina's boots landing upon the stone floor, so predictable. The Grand Duelist smirked, "I know you love danzing with bladez, but, can you valtz!?" Fiora laughed and fazed into the environment at blurring speed.

Katarina grit her teeth and tried to predict where Fiora would swipe her blade.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Katarina huffed as the blade stopped striking. The assassin whirled around when the sound of footsteps were behind her. A sting shot through her left arm as the cold Demacian blade sliced through the black leather and flesh. Katarina coughed as Fiora drove her heel into her exposed midriff and stumbled onto her backside. Her blades clattered against the floor and she gripped her arm. Emerald cyan irises glared at the point of the thin blade resting under her chin.

"Submit, you have already lost," Fiora's tone was serious. "I am not vorried about you reporting zis littell duel to zee League. You are too proud to do so."

Katarina's grip upon her wound tightened as she glared at Fiora quietly.

"Heh, azzazzins are not fight'eres, zey are nothing more zan petty thieves. Zey steal livez like a common thief picks pocketz. Stay in zee shadowz, Du Couteau, zey are zee only reazon you are still alive," The Demacian duelist retracted her blade away from the grounded assassin.

"Crownguard," Katarina grumbled, "Where is she?"

Fiora stopped and turned back to face the defeated Noxian, "Vhy do all you Noxians sink I know v'ere zee Crownguard girl iz? I don't even like zat rainbow mage, so I could care less v'ere she iz. If zat iz vat you Noxians are targeting zan try la bi- Fiora paused, recalling the last time she used that terminology, "zee library... I do not know vhy you Noxians vant to find 'ere all zee time, makes me wond'ere vat she is doing." Fiora shook her head and stepped passed the wounded assassin and wiped the crimson from her blade before sheathing it once more.

Katarina pulled her blood stained fingers from her arm before pressing her palm back against the cut after examining the mess on her hand. Had that been a life or death fight, a mere flesh wound to her arm was the best result in her favor. She was severely displeased with her lack of discipline, letting her emotions get the best of her. Last time she had done so resulted in a reminder she faced every day, and again, fate had been on her side. Katarina did not doubt herself, but she'd be damned if she let herself think that she was nothing but written off as lucky. Her grip on her arm tightened more as droplets of blood tickled her forearm as it ran. The liquid lineage started to seep from between her knuckles the tighter she held her arm. Fiora had cut her pretty good. The Grand duelist was right about one thing, there was no way in hell Katarina would report this.

The assassin scowled as she looked up at the large gates of the Institution's library. This seemed too simple. Katarina grumbled as she walked up the stairs towards the entrance. Pressing her back against the door, she used her legs to push the large door open. The library was dim; typical. Save her footsteps, it was dead silent.

The silver luminescent eyes of the library's book keeper shifted to watch the new patron standing inside the doorway, "Ah, Ms. Du Couteau, here to scroll through more military records?" Diana quirked a brow, her arms full with books.

"For the last time, Diana, Mrs. Du Couteau was my mother," Katarina grunted, a twinge of annoyance in her tone, "why do you ALWAYS do that?"

"All the better to greet you with, my dear," Diana snickered and adjusted her arm full of books as she shuffled by.

Katarina held a neutral face and slowly moved her head from side to side, "Avatar of the Moon making Big Bad Wolf jokes, ha, ha, ha," Katarina rolled her eyes, "very funny." Katarina started to walk away to get started with her search.

"I like to think myself so," Diana smiled and hoisted the arm load of books onto her desk. "Hey!" Diana called out, noticing the assassin departing deeper into the labyrinth of knowledge, "can I help point you into the right direction?" Her voice starting to echo in the direction of Kat.

"I'm an assassin, Diana, I believe I am capable of finding what I came here for, thank you," Katarina called back in a dismissive manner.

Diana shrugged her shoulders, "suit yourself," she said quietly. The Lunari warrior set her hands upon her hips as her eyes traced up the tower of books on her desk. Sometimes she swore she lived here among the tomes, not that she minded any, twas a place where the rays of day never shone down upon her, for they were harmful to the scriptures. Diana sighed and turned her back to her desk and leaned back against it. A soft glint caught her eye and Diana noticed the trail of dark substance leading off into the alleys of books. "Hm?" Diana raised a curious brow and pushed off her desk to check on this strange liquid. Kneeling down, the curious champion dipped the tips of her fingers into the chilled coagulant. Diana examined the substance closely as she rubbed her thumb over the dark crimson coated tips of her fingers and her attention shifted to the trail. Her eyes darted up at the ceiling and around the room upon realization of the mystery substance. The Scorn of the Moon got up cautiously and retreated back to her desk. Who knows what strange thing could have been summoned in this Institution. Blood was never a comforting sign in the halls of the League. Reaching over the desk, eyes still focused on her surroundings, Diana drew out the large crescent blade from behind the desk. The lunar steel of the blade held a glow all its own as the Targonian champion followed the bloody trail.

Katarina found who she came for. Silently peering around the corner of the bookshelf, she watched the light mage sitting at a table quietly reading. Piercing cyan emerald eyes shifted to the floating orb of light magic bobbing slowly next to Luxanna.

"I know you're there," the Demacian mage didn't lift her eyes from the text before her.

Katarina pressed her back up against the bookshelf before sneering and peeling her back from the cold wood realizing she'd been caught. The assassin mumbled sweet curses under her breath as she stalked over to the chair across the table from Lux and sat down, loudly.

Lux paid no mind to Katarina sitting across from her, baby blue eyes still following along the lines of text.

Katarina scowled and shifted in the chair. The wood creaked with every shift while staring down the mage.

The Demacian champion continued to read.

The Sinister Blade grumbled and leaned back in her chair, her leather boot heels slamming down onto the table top.

Luxanna didn't lift her head from her reading as her hand wrapped around the neck of the rocking candle holder in the center of the table, "that's not a foot rest," she said flatly while reading.

Katarina frowned and pulled her feet back down from the table top. Growing irritated, Katarina drew a dagger and swung her arm down, impaling the table.

Lux slammed her book down onto the table, "do you mind?" She said sternly, "what is it with Noxians and needing a weapon to get someone to talk? Can't you just sit there and say Hello? Is that so hard?"

The assassin's knuckles were white from squeezing the hilt of the dagger, "it's rude to ignore people," she growled, "you knew I was sitting her."

"And drawing a weapon is your idea of starting a conversation?" Lux frowned and raised her golden brow, "Now I understand why Cassiopia was the court representative." Lux closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed.

Attempting to ignore the jab, Katarina's mouth pressed into a firm line, "You're wasting your time."

Lux arched a brow, "since when does what I do with my time concern you? Did you hit your head in a match today?"

Katarina's knuckled popped as her grip tightened around the leather of the dagger's hilt.

Discipline! Her father's words were loud in her thoughts.

Katarina's teeth clenched tight behind her lips and she began to relax her shoulders and loosened her grip on the weapon. The assassin left the blade embedded in the table and sat back in her chair, "you're wasting your time with Riven."

"Oh? So leaving someone to decay and suffer is the way to handle someone wounded?" Lux frowned, "helping someone to make their life better is never a waste of time."

"You don't get it," Katarina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "no matter how hard you try, Riven will not change for you."

Luxanna felt off put, "and how do you know? Why do you even care rather? All of you Noxian champions and the rest of your country have just written her off as a traitor. Have any of you even bothered to ask her what happened in Ionia?"

Katarina glared, "I know."

Lux's expression was one of disbelief and doubt, "do you? Do you really?"

The Noxian noble was starting to grow frustrated again. She could feel the blood dripping from her fingertips onto the floor, how much had she lost? "I know her better than anyone in this building."

"Then why do you behave like you do? From what I understand she is the only known survivor from that 'MIA' military company. You'd think Noxus would want to know what happened and don't try to persuade me otherwise factually I read the report file," Lux's expression was firm, "but no, Noxus ostracizes her."

"I KNOW!" Katarina slammed a bloody hand down onto the table. The assassin heaved and glared at the Demacian sitting across from her. The Noxian noble's eyes shifted to her injured arm and she pulled her hand away, leaving a mess on the table.

Sitting there in the silence, Lux's attention shifted from the crimson mess on the wooden table to Katarina's arm, "you're bleeding..." the mage mumbled, slight concern behind her words.

Katarina covered her arm back up, "don't worry about it. It's just a scratch," she growled protectively towards Lux's shift in demeanor.

"What happened?" Lux asked tenderly, leaning over the table to get a closer look. The orb of luminescence moved closer when the mage put her hand by it and moving it toward the Noxian.

Katarina turned in her chair defensively, tucking her injury away and out of sight. A flustered expression took over Kat's features as she met the gentle blue eyes focused on her arm, Lux's good nature shining as bright at the orb closing in on her. The assassin's shoulders shuddered uncomfortably, "you're wasting your time," Katarina mumbled and got up from the chair to retreat.

Lux sat there in silence as Katarina left her, the dagger still stuck in the bloody table.

"I think she's in love with you," Diana teased in a silly manner and stepped out from the shadows.

Lux jumped, her hair standing on end, "Jeez, Diana! Don't do that!" Lux gripped at her chest and tried to breathe.

"My apologies," Diana chuckled, "However, all jokes aside," the Scorn of the Moon's tone shifted serious. "I don't know about you, but as a scholar myself that sounded like a source of information walking away."

Lux looked back at Diana, who was leaned up against a bookshelf.

The Lunari champion nodded her head in the direction of the Noxian's departure.

The light mage got up and pulled the dagger from the table.

Katarina gripped her arm tighter. Damn it... the wound was much deeper than she thought. She pressed her back up against the doors to leave the library, but the large door felt much heavier than before. The assassin was starting to feel worn, her tired eyes shifting toward the direction her name was called out.

"Katarina!" Lux jogged up to the taller woman leaned up against the door, "here," lux breathed, "you forgot this." The light mage held up the Noxian weapon to the assassin.

Katarina stood there silently and looked the offered blade. Pulling her hand from her injury, the assassin felt her knees give in and she slid down the door. The blade clattered as it hit the floor and Katarina felt exhausted, lacking even the energy to pay attention to the collapsing of another being onto their knees in front of her.

"H-Hey..." Lux looked at the tired Noxian closer, "Diana!" Lux called out over her shoulder to the approaching blurry figure. "Diana get the med kit!"

The mage's words sounded distorted and Katarina wanted nothing more than to just...

A slight sting in her arm sent a jolt through the assassin's being as her eyes shot open and she jerked awake. Katarina's eyes darted around her surroundings of tables and books as she sat up from laying on a couch. Feeling the sting again from the sudden movement she made she went to grab her arm again only to notice the clean pristine white bandage and the patterns of bumps beneath signifying stitching had been done.

"How're you feeling?"

Katarina's attention snapped up to the mage sitting in a chair before her and Diana leaned up against a bookshelf not too far away. "Why did you help me?" The assassin mumbled.

"Because, my friend," Diana pushed herself from the bookshelf and waved her finger around informatively like a teacher would while giving a lecture, "help is a universal service."

"And can be given to anyone by anyone if one so chooses to provide it," Lux continued Diana's statement, "it is a power that knows no boundaries and belongs to no kingdoms or kings. It is a power of choice that every person with a conscious and free thought to have."

"Ah, Targonian philosophy," Diana sighed in delight, "even its teachings spread to the far lands."

Katarina's eyes watched the two champions from different lands smile at one another. Is this what Valoran would be like, if everyone would stop fighting? Katarina felt troubled by how unbothered she felt being in this mixing pot of personalities and nationalities.

"You know," Lux rest her arms on her slender knees, "I think you and Riven were cut from the same cloth."

Katarina growled, "Not even close."

Lux chuckled, "I don't know, you two sure do like to growl and grumble at people who aren't of your own."

"We are not the same," Katarina scowled.

"Denial," Lux sang back.

"I know I'm not!" Katarina shouted.

The mage smirked, "Then tell me what you know."