A.N.: I'm posting these in the order they got written, but chronologically this is set before chapters two and one.
It was a fierce battle, both teams going toe-to-toe, inhibitors already down on both sides. The minion waves met near the riverbank, but the two sides were clashing inside the blue base.
This teamfight will decide the fate of the match – if the blue team, currently one man down, could come out on top, they could go straight for the enemy nexus.
Jarvan IV. swung his lance around and wounded Kha'Zix, sending the bug staggering backwards right into Thresh's Box. To his left, he saw the Chain Warden and Zed take out Janna and Tristana, only to be taken out by Yasuo.
The Exemplar of Demacia wiped the blood from his eyes and tried to rush to the aid of Kog'Maw, but Yasuo and Maokai had already formed up against the creature. The always hungry Kog'Maw went down, but not before sending the Wanderer into an explosive death.
That left the badly wounded Jarvan against Maokai, and the Treant had packed a meaner punch than he would have liked. But fortune favors the brave, so Jarvan lunged at the tree with a battle cry.
It could have gone so wrong. Maokai was good and already had Jarvan on his knees, waiting the finishing blow. It would have definitely gone wrong if it weren't for the blast of magic coming from behind the warrior. Jarvan IV. looked up to Swain, who was lowering his cane, radiating power after respawning.
"Heal up and catch up to me as fast as you can. We are ending this," the Tactician rasped before limping away on the middle lane.
Jarvan didn't waste his time waiting to regain his full health. The enemy team was down, but the minion waves were still on their side of the river and it will take time to push them to the enemy base, even with Swain's Ravenous Flock. He grabbed his last item and ran to catch up with the Noxian.
He was surprised to find that Swain had passed the minions altogether and headed straight towards the enemy base – the Prince caught up to him by the inhibitors.
"I told you to heal up," the general snarled at the still wounded Demacian. Jarvan could understand his rage for once; he was in no shape to tank the remaining nexus tower and Kha'Zix was spawning in fifteen seconds.
Swain seemed to be contemplating something. "If you cost me this match, I'm declaring war on Demacia," the man bit out an empty threat and just as the next wave of minions appeared from the nexus, morphed into his monstrous form and stepped into the range of the tower.
Jarvan caught on quickly and lunged at the tower, putting all of his strength into bringing it down; the flock would keep Swain alive even in the crossfire of the tower and the siege minions, but not for long.
The tower went down and the nexus followed suite, the crystal exploding in bright light just as Kha'Zix lunged at the weakened Jarvan and Swain.
They won. Jarvan could hardly believe it. After the long, struggling battle they have defeated the enemy.
High on battle and victory, the Prince of Demacia grabbed the Tyrant of Noxus, still in his otherworldy form, in a crushing hug, lifting the demon bird off his feet. Swain for his part was too weary to fight it and only this once indulged Jarvan's enthusiasm, resting his beak on a ridiculous pauldron.
The rush slowly receded and the feathers in his grasp turned back to rough fabric when Jarvan let his teammate back down, but not without keeping a supporting hand on the slighter man's shoulder. The Master Tactician looked like he would fall over otherwise and Beatrice, currently perching on top of Jarvan's flagpole seemed to approve of the gesture too.
"It was a good fight," hissed Kha'Zix at both of them, preening his antennae. "You make a good team, the two of you."
There was some obligatory denial, but they did work well together, at least this one match. Anyway, to prevent further comments Swain put some distance between himself and Jarvan, his limp even more prominent as he looked for his cane among the rubble. It didn't take long to find it, broken into pieces among the rocks. The summoners' magic became null and void a few moments after the battle ended, but as a catch everyone had to return to his/her/its own base to leave the arena. This left the injured tactician limping his way back to the other half of the rift.
On one hand this was good; Noxus and Demacia were sworn enemies, so the grief of a Noxian was good news for a Demacian. The grief of their tyrant even more so.
On the other hand, Swain had been on his team, saved him from (admittedly temporary) death and won them the game when his own foolishness would have cost them victory. Not to mention that he put up with Jarvan's outburst without comment. And it was the spirit of the championship to set aside their allegiances and build diplomatic ties. Maybe he could take a step in that direction…
But it was too late, Swain was already hobbling his way down mid lane, irritably calling out for his bird to follow. The demon crow was still perched on top of Jarvan's flagpole and watched the Demacian prince with expectant eyes. When Jarvan didn't seem to get the hint, she started tearing at the remnants of the Demacian flag, already torn to shreds in the battle and Jarvan finally caught up; without the Demacian colors, it was nothing more than a menacing looking lance and Jarvan judged that it couldn't be much heavier than Swain's ceremonial staff – a perfect substitute for the time being.
His father the King always said that he lacked even the most basic grasp of diplomacy. It was time to prove the old man wrong. He hoisted his weapon on his shoulder, tore off the tatters of the flag, grabbed the flagpole, bird and all and started walking after Swain.
Jarvan caught up quickly, though he couldn't tell if it was because of the Noxian's crippled leg, or the fact that he regularly stopped to call his crow.
"Here," Jarvan said, offering the lance and its clingy occupant. "Your bird had taken a liking to it."
Swain had taken it with a longsuffering sigh. "Beatrice, you'll be my death one day." The crow just looked smug and sharpened her beak on the tip.
"I was informed that due to 'diplomatic reasons'," The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable. "Our suites are on the same floor. Come over before breakfast and I'll supply your equipment back. Gods know, she should grow tired of this new perch by then."
He gave a parting nod and left, back straight and his gait smoother than before. Jarvan waited a few minutes before following.
There were far too many bridges burned between Demacia and Noxus, but maybe – just maybe – he put down the foundations for a new one today.