Chapter 2: In Council

Katarina stood on the steps of the Institute, waiting with the others for the heavily-armored military van that would be arriving to take the Noxians home. By the looks of things, they weren't the only ones leaving the Institute on their day off. In the distance, Prince Jarvan was climbing into a royal carriage that prominently bore a Demacian standard, earning a disgruntled growl from the Noxians at the entrance.

A tired-looking Ashe passed through the waiting crowd with her cowl up. She walked right by Katarina, who caught sight of a dark bruise on her face as she passed. The Noxian watched her retreating figure with vague curiosity until Tryndamere pushed passed her, hot on his wife's heels. She observed as the archer mounted an elegant white horse that stood awaiting her. Instead of waiting for her husband, she drove her heels into the beast's sides and aimed north. Tryndamere let out a few choice swears and mounted his own black horse, riding at a gallop after the Frost Archer.

Katarina had no time to contemplate the bizarre scene, as the Noxian military van had just arrived, sporting an unexpected escort of guardsmen. She turned to Swain with a raised eyebrow. "Is that really necessary?"

The general shrugged. "Noxus takes care of its champions." He went to speak with the guardsmen.

"It will be nice to return home again," sighed Cassiopeia almost wistfully, gliding past her sister and into the van.

Katarina shook her head slightly, conflicted. She was always glad to return to Noxus - the city warmed her and filled her with purpose in a way nothing else on Earth could. Yet her reasons for returning today were anything but pleasant.

"An air strike? Are you insane?"

"We could tunnel under the city!"

"Bombs! Bombs everywhere!"

Katarina sighed as the war council rapidly degenerated into ideas that Katarina knew would never see the light of day. Quite sad, considering the meeting was only thirteen minutes in. She'd barely listened to a word anyone had spoken, and no one was about to ask for her opinion. That had been made quite clear in the past: she would fight, not speak. Councils were not her forte; action was.

She pulled out her knife and began to carve intricate designs in the wood of the table before her. A few of the elders sitting near her took note of this action and turned away from the antics unfolding long enough to scowl at her, but no one dared tell her to stop.

The meeting continued in a similar fashion for another few hours, with each minute dragging on for what felt like an eternity to the impatient assassin. They had cycled through several rounds of shouting, calming, discussing, and shouting again before a horrific noise rang through the large room, echoing off the walls and silencing the squabbling.

Everyone turned to the head of the room, even Katarina, who looked up from her half-finished carving of the Noxian crest. A quick assessment of the room revealed the source of the sound to be Swain's bird. The man himself had stood up, gathered to his full height. He took the steps down from his elevated seat, pacing the large center of the room, looking around at the faces in the council with a hard expression. Finally, he spoke.

"We will not capture Demacia this day," he stated simply.

An angry murmur erupted from the crowd, silenced quickly by another grating squawk.

"Nor will we tomorrow. Nor the next day,"

"General Swain –" began a voice from across the room.

"No. We need to accept this," Swain said forcefully. "What you are all focusing on is direct capture of one of the strongest city-states in Valoran. We need to consider their position, their numbers, their fortifications, their vast resources. We rival them in power, sure. But that isn't enough."

He fell silent, staring at each and every face as he turned around the circle. His gaze landed on Katarina last. "We should not focus on direct capture at this point. Such a plan would be suicide. Instead, let us consider a prominent asset. Our ties with the League of Legends."

"Where are you going with this, Swain?" asked another impatient voice.

The General smiled at the man, though his bird gave another angry shriek in his direction. "None of us can jump headfirst from peace to war. There must be planning and caution. I want all of you to ask yourself how serious you are about breaking the peace, about capturing Demacia. How far you are willing to go."

He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before continuing. "We have direct contact with several very prominent Demacians on a daily basis. And not only Demacians; we have access to many important members of Valoran society. And we are not taking advantage of this."

"Hold on," said the man who had spoken before, "You're a League champion. You know better than all of us how binding the laws are. We can't touch another League member."

"This is true," agreed Swain, "At least…not yet."

Another murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. It was Cassiopeia who broke through it this time. "Be realistic, Swain. The Demacians are too well guarded. Even if we were willing to disregard the law, they're still practically untouchable."

"Ah, but they're the only champions with a guard."

"What are you implying?"

Swain's smile returned. "I'd like to propose a two-part plan. The first: utilization of the League to gather intelligence on the Demacians as well as other prominent dignitaries within the League. The second: a direct show of force. Perhaps not against the Demacians, perhaps directed at them. A display to make them fear us."

"And what would that 'display' entail?" asked Katarina, speaking for the first time and causing several heads to turn in surprise.

"To be decided," replied Swain, "Mostly based on what our intelligence reveals."

"And who would be gathering this information?" she asked, figuring she knew the answer already.

"You. Cassiopeia. Talon. Myself. And perhaps other Noxians who we can get inside of the Institute."

"And how?"

The General looked at her for a moment, then at Cassiopeia. "Simple," he said, "start talking to people."

Katarina rolled her eyes and sat back down, her interest lost. "Sure. Let's talk the Demacians to death." She began carving images into the desk again.

Swain sighed heavily, fixing her with a hard stare. "When was the last time you set foot out of the East Wing?" he asked, referring to the traditional layout of the Institute. Noxians and their allies occupied much of the East Wing, and Demacians much of the West Wing. There was no specific law enforcing this, but most champions followed the lines fairly well, anyway.

Katarina scoffed. "Never."

"And how do you expect to defeat an enemy you don't know?" he asked, leaning forward on his cane. The assassin paused her carving long enough to glare at him, but he had already turned away from her to once again address the council. "We must not let this connection go to waste any longer. We have an opportunity that is very easy to exploit. And what do we really know about our enemies? Have we gathered any information since the peace was declared?"

The tension in the room thickened until several men stood up and nodded their heads in approval. Soft murmurs filled the room for a time as the proposal was debated. One by one, hands started rising. By the time the murmurings had ceased, every hand save Katarina's was in the air.

"I want this plan implemented immediately," Swain said in the dark confines of the armored truck. "Phase one is crucial. We must establish a trust between ourselves and those who hold power. Don't just focus on Demacia, either. Piltover, Freljord, Bandle City, Ionia…we need connections with key champions from these regions."

Cassiopeia lay languid across a row of seats, her serpentine tail flicking as she considered Swain's words. "And what is the final goal?"

"Seeking weak points, ultimately" clarified Swain, "but for now, anything goes. The council has determined that it wants a broad account of all the champions we can gather information for, including the Demacians, should we get close enough," he clarified with a grim smile. "A little of your seduction should go a long way."

The serpent let out a pleasant hiss. "I can do that."

Swain turned to Katarina, who was sitting across from them, absently playing with her knives. She had been listening to every word, but pretended otherwise. Her thoughts were in conflict, and she loathed the task ahead of her.

"I expect your help as well, Sinister Blade," Swain said with emphasis, as if he were speaking to a disobedient child.

The woman glared at him in response. "This isn't my area of expertise." She threw a knife into the air and caught it with two fingers.

"It could be," he offered. "You're quite stealthy. I'm sure you could pick up plenty of useful information. And, frankly, a little bit of social interaction could do you some good." When he was met with only a glower from the unhappy assassin, he softened slightly. "I promise, Katarina, your time will come. But," he said, resuming his stern manner, "you have to learn to control yourself. I can't have you disrespecting the people we're meant to be talking to."

Katarina felt her already-smoldering temper flare at the general's tone. "You dare talk to me like I'm a child, you fuc –"

"Let's start right now," interrupted Swain, completely unruffled, "With something I like to call 'self-censorship.'"

The assassin jumped off her seat, and crossed the tight space, leaning right before him with her eyes narrowed in a threatening expression. She held a knife low down, slipping it out of her belt with ease and running her finger over the blade. The end result was certainly intimidating and would have made nearly anyone turn away in fear, but Swain appeared unbothered. The bird on his shoulder flew into the air at the sudden movement, squawking madly. A tense moment passed.

"Really, Kat?" said Cassiopeia.

"Stay out of this, you filthy whore," spat her sister.

The half-serpent stiffened, rising from her seat, emerald eyes narrowed to slits. "How dare you –"

"Not you as well, Cassie," said Swain, sounding more bored than anything. His bird had again landed on his shoulder and was shifting nervously on its perch. Its owner turned his eyes back to Katarina.

"You see, this is what I'm talking about," he droned. "That temper of yours. And you wonder why people don't like you."

The assassin tightened her grip on the knife at her belt. "I'm not here to make friends."

Swain actually had the audacity to smile. "You are now. And unless you make efforts in this phase, you could be denied any participation in future endeavors."

"Are you seriously threatening me with discharge?"

"Am I?"

Katarina scoffed in his face. "You don't have that kind of power."

Swain looked at her thoughtfully. "Don't I? The council makes all decisions at the moment. As a League champion under Noxus, you could even be removed from the Institute." He looked away from her hard gaze. "And I believe we all saw how much weight I carry in the council."

"You wouldn't dare."

He smiled again, warmer this time. "This is all hypothetical, of course."

Katarina's gaze didn't falter.

"All I ask," he continued, "Is that you conduct yourself with the professionalism I know you're capable of. I have given you freedoms that I would not grant to anyone else under me, but these little lapses of yours will not be tolerated. You have the training, you only need to use it."

She did not move.

"And remember that you answer to me," he reminded sternly, the slightest hint of impatience showing.

"I answer to Noxus above all else," she retorted. After a moment, she moved back to her seat, but she continued to stare at him with hard, angry eyes. "I'll have my moment."

"I will ensure that personally. I would not waste your impeccable talents."

She said nothing, sitting in silence until the van came to a halt outside of the Institute. She was through the doors and on the ground before it could completely stop. Instead of heading to the Institute building, as she had planned, Katarina found herself wandering into the surrounding trees with her thoughts.

Despite her aversion to Swain's passivity, her mind was already developing a strategy. It didn't sound as though the general expected her to have any stunningly complex social interactions, though she knew that she would have to participate in some way. Somewhere deep within her, she felt respect at the man for taking such an unconventional plan, but the part of her that regarded violence as a much stronger solution would never let that part speak.

So she would make…friends. She tried the word out, then discarded it as ridiculous. She would gather information from acquaintances through the use of clever, to-be-developed verbal tactics.

Oh, for fuck's sake, this is impossible, she thought to herself. What am I even supposed to be learning? The council had decided that "any and all information was to be reported until further notice, at such time when a focus can be narrowed on particular subjects". So…should she go learn the color of Malzahar's underwear? Discover the true location of the bear Tibbers? Find out if Janna really was running that rumored phone sex service?

Swain had promised that she would eventually be allowed to exercise her more…violent tendencies at some point during the mission. At least she had something to look forward to, provided he kept his word, though, by the sound of things, that would take a while. The plan was entirely based in the League at this point, and violence off of the Fields of Justice was strictly prohibited –

Thwack!

Without warning, an icy arrow sailed through the air and buried itself into a tree trunk right beside her, coming to rest merely inches away from Katarina's chest. Alarmed, the assassin's killer instincts triggered, and her hand held a blade an instant later. She ducked behind the trunk, her eyes darting around the clearing, searching for her attacker.

"Well. That was a little more than I had expected," said a familiar voice from above her head. Startled, the Noxian's eyes flew to the trees, narrowing on the cloaked figure that perched on one of the branches.

Katarina barely resisted the urge to hurl her blade at the Frost Archer. "What the hell are you doing here?" she spat, using harsh words instead of knives to channel her adrenaline rush.

Ashe raised an eyebrow at her. "Guard duty," she remarked casually.

Katarina still hadn't lowered her blade. A moment of heavy silence filled the trees.

"I think," Ashe began, observing the tension in the Noxian's body, "We both know that, had I actually been trying to hit you, you would be pinned to that tree right now."

Katarina still did not move, so Ashe nonchalantly set her bow down on the tree limb beside her.

Another moment passed. Finally, Katarina exhaled heavily and lowered her blade. "Don't do that again," she warned darkly, knowing that she had been inches from attacking the other woman. So much for peaceful diplomacy.

Ashe gave a small smile. "I wasn't sure I could manage to startle you," she remarked, sitting down on the big limb, her back against the tree trunk. "I wanted to commend you on your skills in battle the other day."

Katarina raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Your escape," she clarified. "And your chase. You're an interesting opponent, Noxian. I hope fate pits us together in the future."

Why the hell is she complimenting me? Thought Katarina, her stance lowered but her body still tense. "I would have had you if it weren't for the Barbarian."

At the mention of her husband, Ashe's friendly look faded instantly. Katarina caught the change as Ashe looked down at the ground, absently raising a hand to brush some loose strands of snow white hair from her face. Katarina observed the motion, again noticing the remains of the bruise she had seen before. And what is that?

She was opening her mouth to ask the question before the archer cut her off. "I was going to warn you not to go walking out here," she said suddenly, her voice less warm then before. At Katarina's confused look, she gestured to the ground. "Teemo's the other guard on duty."

The Noxian uneasily looked around the clearing. "He wouldn't…"

Despite the Institute's firm warnings about improper mushroom placement, the tiny Yordle never quite seemed to listen to the Summoners.

"I wouldn't put it past him. There's a reason I'm up in this tree," answered Ashe. "Just retrace your steps and you should be fine."

Katarina nearly shrugged off her advice, then remembered Swain's words. "Uh…thanks for the warning," she muttered, still looking at the ground with distrust. She heard the Frost Archer pick up her bow and looked up to see her leaping to another tree. "Wait!" she called.

Ashe stopped and turned back to face her. Katarina stared at her for a moment, unsure of why she had felt the need to call out. She struggled to collect her thoughts for a moment before pointing to the arrow, still embedded in the tree. "You still didn't tell me what that was for."

Ashe's vaguely friendly smile returned. "Something to remember me by." Before Katarina could respond, she nimbly leapt to another tree and was out of sight.

Katarina turned and looked at the arrow, observing it closely. The first thing she noticed surprised her: it was nearly half-buried into the tree trunk. Unable to fire a bow herself, the Noxian was unsure of just how much force that would take, but she guessed that it was quite a lot. She looked at it from all angles, trying to determine the best way to remove it from the tree.

After a minute of deliberation, she finally grabbed the end and heaved. The arrow didn't budge. She tried again with similar results.

Annoyed, she pulled out one of her knives and started hacking at the wood surrounding the point of entry. After a half hour of scraping, the arrow finally fell into her open palm.

She looked at the missile in surprise, noting that it was still freezing cold to the touch, despite the warm air. A closer examination of the head found an intricate lattice of un-melting ice crystals surrounding the arrow itself. The ice reflected the light like a prism, causing a beautiful glare. Katarina studied it for another moment, transfixed. Finally, she pocketed the arrow and turned to leave the clearing…

…and fell to the ground as a cloud of purple poison exploded in the air around her.