#WHERE IS FREJLORD NOW

[sentiniel]

so i know the lore around summoners (the player self insert/character stand-ins you have for the game) probably isn't based around summoning a replica or a representation of these characters taken from a real universe any more. but. wouldn't it be fucking funny if it was, especially in lieu of arcane's events.

imagine getting to register vi to the summoner's league right after she became an enforcer, or maybe even during some time between arcane act 1 and 2. and then using the label of 'piltover's finest!' just to sell her champion prowess. cut to a day or two later in piltover and maybe she's quit to become a pit fighter, but damn doesn't she still look good as a summon.

same???? goes for jinx???? memorializing how she shot the councilmen into debris with the summoners designing her champion ult???? do you think they have sensitivity checks in the summoner's league or do you think they just rolled with whatever was funny or made the most sense, even if it could possibly offend someone that she DID in fact kill politicians that day and bring instability to the cities.

[bikmui]

.in midst of night and upon the mind | @lronwilled

Wake me when you need me. A part of him laughs at that. He'd never needed anyone.

Well.

He'd never needed anyone beside the General. Talon needed the General the same way sheep need a shepherd. The way a knife needs the whetstone.

In the dirty brothels of Bilgewater, where the walls were more fabric than stone, he'd heard men moan that they needed this or that or whatever else the whore might offer. He'd heard in Demacia, some young girl confess her love, too. Say that she needed his love too, or else she might die.

Talon'd never really understood need. The body could forego water, if blood was abundant. The body could forego food for longer still. The body could forgo comfort, and even air, if made desperate enough.

From his perch in the tree, he sneaks a look down at his unwitting companion. Observe, the General whispers. And he observes. Observes the shadows on Yasuo's face; the pale moonlight on his cheek. Hands which held a blade to kill and a blade to feed. In Yasuo, he finds contradictions but no answers reciprocate.

An exhale. The night is quiet, at least. Too quiet. Gone are the braying dogs and horseshoes on cobblestone. There are no children here to scour each pile of trash in search of food or gold. His skin prickles in apprehension. In the anticipation. But there is no answer in the deep dark of night.

The moon rises as the night passes, and eventually, he climbs down his tree to press a hand to the swordsman's shoulder.

"Wake up. It's your turn to keep watch."

And when he is satisfied the man is awake, he returns to his tree, and does not sleep. Better he think he is needed, than to suspect Talon. Not so soon, at least, if ever at all. But he is still as he feigns rest, impassive as he watches the night turn to morn, violent streaks of sunlight crossing the sky.

In Ionia, everything feels brighter. The trees are colours he has not seen before, and the sun, too, feels warmer on his skin. Feels like it could crawl under it, and burn him inside. Maybe it is the air, crisp and sharp. Or perhaps it is his fool of a guide.

No, Talon himself would be the fool then, and he bristles with that thought.

"I assume there was nothing last night?" he says, as though he did not watch too. An idle night could only mean they were one night closer to danger. And here in a foreign land, and stuck with a foreign stranger - he'd almost prefer to be alone in the Frejlord. At least the wind kept the silence at bay. At least then, he'd not need to look upon another man's face.

He drops lightly from his perch in the tree, and takes in their surroundings. Nothing has changed, but danger creeps closer.

"We should press forward. Make the most of the daylight." He pauses. Unbound, perhaps, by the still night, he remembers how fond the sisters were of the holy days where the maids would awaken them with sweet bread and pressed juice. Remembers how they'd laughed at the sugar dripping down his arm.

(The maids had made him scrub the month's laundry in retribution for the stains. Even now, he can almost feel the sting of soap in cracked palms).

"I will wait, if you take breakfast."

@bikmui ⸺ talon &&. yasuo.

Yasuo let out an airy snicker at Talon's inquiry, promptly raising a hand to cover his mouthful. "Good sense," he supplied, not really going deeper than that. There was something humorous about the question and the answer that followed, but something simmered beneath— a beast of burden that the ronin would never reveal. He doesn't really pay much mind to the way Talon's eyes felt like they were burning holes in his head.

When Talon finally began to eat, Yasuo contained the pride he felt at the sight of someone so voraciously enjoying his cooking. It wasn't amazing by any means, but it was the kind of meal that one might find comfort in, like the homemade meal of a loving mother. His lip was curled in the slightest of smiles as he ate, only masked by the spoon he held.

He snorted at Talon's comment, not really feeling any urge to rebuke the request. Yasuo could certainly go on to explain the properties of alcohol in cooking, but it seemed worthless to do. Plus, there was something amusing about seeing how Talon navigated unfamiliar situations, taking on assumptions based on what Yasuo could only chalk up to past experiences. So he just shrugged in response.

It was a pleasant surprise that Talon was the first to finish his meal, both of them polishing the remnants of the stew in good time. And it comes as even more of a surprise when Talon takes initiative in cleaning what he had used, Yasuo silently joining him at the river to clean the rest of the utensils and supplies. There was a palpable sense of silent appreciation from the ronin before they reconvened at the heart of camp.

Yasuo didn't object to the proclamation, fine with not having to take first watch. This would be the first night spent with one another— strangers, arguably meant to be enemies— sharing the blanket of stars overhead. There was no comfort to be found in not being alone this night.

He packed everything that was strewn about in case they both needed to get away quickly, leaving the necessities out and keeping his belongings close. Upon kicking at the firewood to help the flame slowly die down, Yasuo got himself settled at the base of the tree, using his pack as a pillow before letting his eyes shut. Sleep would not come easy, and nightmares would always swarm him instead of dreams when it did.

"Wake me when you need me."

[caspercryptid]

Melvik prompt if you're still looking for them. Love your writing!

Mel teaching Viktor how to paint

So this was mostly a lead up to that... Anyway. No CWs. Thank you for the prompt!

___

Viktor doesn’t have time for beautiful things. 

There are, of course, things he finds beautiful. There are equations, there are fractals, mechanics, graphs, the machines made by Jayce’s hands, Jayce’s hands. Independently. But these are not things he has time to consider, nor the inclination. There is work to be done. He can appreciate beauty as an aside, beauty as a side effect, as a... byproduct. 

And so art tires him. Music is...pleasant, yes. Music is a necessary stimuli in a world that constantly bores him, that consistently fails to deliver all it’s promised him. It is his frustration with Piltover. Piltover is so focused on beautiful that often there is the abandonment of effective. Of purposeful. Piltover is focused on its operas and its gilded buildings and has forgotten the ugly work of hands, the ugly reality of where its riches have come from. All that glitters is mined unethically. 

And so Mel Medarda... confuses him. 

That is the primary reaction, admittedly. She confuses him. She is gilded like a spire, she is beautiful beyond words, deliberately so, and for what? She ought to understand the purposelessness of it. Noxus was surely not a place where such things were valued. Strength is ugly, and so is war. Perhaps she wears the colors of her adopted city but Viktor... hardly sees the point. She’s powerful. What is the point of pretense?

He keeps that to himself, at any rate, expresses none of it when Jayce expresses his admiration. To Viktor, Mel Medarda is just another beautiful thing. Unnecessary. 

And then, well. He speaks to her.

Today is not a good day. This is only tangentially related to the fact that he’s bringing a message to Mel in Jayce’s place, because Jayce was pulled away on business. Jayce is probably in the fucking Frejlord right now, which would be fine, except that their current project is in its mechanics stage, and Viktor... needs. Jayce. He’s not an incapable engineer, but he worked until he got stuck, and then he got very stuck, and Jayce isn’t here to tell him what he’s doing wrong, to twist an equation just gently to the left the way he does, and so Viktor is simply— fucked. Until whenever politics decides to release Jayce. 

Usually, needing Jayce is not a problem. Because Jayce is there, and it’s simple. Needing Jayce is a problem when Jayce is, through no fault of his own, not here, and it’s even more irritating because there’s no one really to blame for it. Needs must.

He must not be hiding his irritation as well as he’d hoped, because Mel looks amused when she gets the door to her apartment. 

“Jayce?” She asks, and he blinks, half surprised at her guess. She replies to his expression as though he’d spoken—

“Elora told me.”

“Ah.” He sighs. “Well I guess my presence isn’t actually necessary, but he did write a note.”

“I appreciate it anyway.” Mel says, holding out a hand for the note. He registers, with a little bit of interest, that she has paint smudges on her hands, and she leaves a little streak of yellow on the envelope as she takes it. 

She seems to notice the same time he does, and sighs. “—Council’s out of session today.” She says, by way of explanation. 

“Is Jayce that essential?” Viktor asks, lightly, like he’s joking. 

“Not usually,” she says, smiling back, like she’s in on the joke. “But we’re waiting on some documents he’s been made the bearer of so everything’s... stalled. For the moment.” 

She looks too-serene about that, which makes him half-suspect that all of this is working into some plan of hers. But, well. What doesn’t?

“My work’s stalled as well.” he offers, “You’re lucky to have a hobby to fill the time, I’ve found myself at a loss for side projects.”

“You could always pick up a new hobby.” Mel says, mildly, and Viktor snorts before he even thinks about it, and then almost winces. He really shouldn’t be rude to—

To his relief (and admittedly, no small surprise) she just grins. 

“Don’t tell me one of Piltover’s brightest minds is averse to learning new things?” She ribs, and Viktor almost smiles, so he buries that even deeper and manages an expression of disapproval instead. 

“I don’t have a lot of free time to waste on acquiring unnecessary skills.”

“Well, you have free time today.” She retorts. “Acquire one now.”

“Like what?”

“Painting.” She says, “Come on.”

She crooks her fingers at him and turns and walks off, and Viktor has absolutely no idea why he’s following her, but he is, immediately. He suddenly has a deep and abiding empathy for Jayce. This explains quite a bit of his willingness to do...Whatever Mel asks. All the time.

Well, he thinks. Maybe he can find out what all the fuss is about art and other beautiful things.

[steelandscience]

Earlier I found a fantastic episode by episode analysis of little League tidbits left in Arcane, made by @sylvanas-girlkisser. And it got me thinking again about where the heck Jayce and his mom were in the flashback scene again, so I thought I would make a post about it, just to compile my thoughts and questions. If anyone has any headcanons or ideas or lore to share, please do!!

If we assume that Jayce and Ximena Talis are in Frejlord, which is the most common theory I've seen, then I have a few questions:

Does anyone have any theories or headcanons as to what they were doing in Frejlord? It’s been a while since I’ve seen anything about it. I know Jayce says that his family essentially forged the tools that Piltover was built with (which I always took to be kind of both metaphorical for good rhetoric as he gives speeches and also literal), so I’m assuming he is from Piltover, and not an immigrant into Piltover.

(Although if he was an immigrant into an already established Piltovan family… that could be interesting… especially because different aspects of Jayce seem to vacillate between upper class and Piltovan working class.)

Frejlord doesn’t exactly seem like the place people would go for a pleasurable vacation lol. And if it’s this far away, how did they get there in the first place? I could be very wrong, but travel doesn’t seem particularly fast in Runeterra.

There’s also Targon, which has snowy mountains as well, and is also supposed to have a safer grassy area around the base of the mountain. But it’s not that much closer to Piltover than Frejlord is, and I don’t know why baby Jayce and his mom would be voluntarily climbing up Runeterra’s magical version of Mount Everest, so I don’t know that it’s very likely. Also what little we see of the mountains in the show look quite different from the geographic features for the art of Mount Targon.

Now, after the realm warp / teleportation...

I don't know much about Ryze and how his power works, but I was wondering if we know anything about WHERE Ryze realm warped Jayce and Ximena to? Is the grassy field just the base of the mountains just north of Piltover, as we can see Piltover is surrounded by mountains on the map?

The butterfly Jayce sees when they land is the same as the butterfly Viktor sees in Zaun (cute), so I feel like it would make sense for Jayce and his mom to have been deposited near Piltover.

If he did place them neatly into Piltover, how did Ryze know where Jayce and his mom needed to go? Because they were so far from home if they were in Frejlord, what if he accidentally put them in a safe place but in a place where it would take them months to get back home? (I’m genuinely asking haha I don’t know much about Ryze at all)

Is it possible they were just caught in the snow in the normal mountains just north of Piltover, and weren’t in Frejlord at all? I can’t find any definitive information as to if it snows in Piltover; I have read that it's supposed to have a rather equatorial warm climate in lore, but in Arcane, Caitlyn has the shooting competition with Grayson in the snow. And if Jayce and his mom ended up in Piltover (or just outside it), we do see snowy mountains in the background.

If that area of the world experiences all four seasons, perhaps they weren't in Frejlord at all... Maybe they were just there in the mountains around Piltover in the wrong season and were unlucky enough to encounter a blizzard. I mean, I’ve often seen places like Norway and Greenland depicted as “snowy” on world maps, like Frejlord here because there is a certain degree of permafrost in those countries, but a bad winter blizzard in the northern half of the United States (where they still get all four seasons) has as much likeliness to give you frostbite from exposure as any other snowy place, right?

Anyway, I think I'm starting to believe that Jayce and Ximena were not that far from Piltover at all, and Ryze was just there for Reasons, and he deposited them to the nearest geographical safe spot, which was also-- thankfully-- still quite close to their home.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 2

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected. Katarina/Swain

The edge of Noxus and Frejlord, the end of the world, how did I find myself in this godsfosaken place? Oh that’s right, he asked me to come, well ordered me to. Either way, I wouldn’t have refused, I know myself too well to even try to lie.

  We set out from the Capitol in the company of several warbands, not enough for an invasion force. Our mission was strictly to make an alliance with the Avarosan tribe and their idealistic young Warmother. We show them the benefits of the grace of the Empire and they will fight our battles with the rest of the Northern Tribes for us.

We’d past the Iron Spike mountains and the Delverhold to settle into a nearly abandoned fort, the very last outpost of Noxus. Many good soldiers had died in Darkwill’s mad quest to bring the North to heel, and yet this was as far as any had managed to get. It felt world’s away from home, but really it was pittance compared to what he had desired. And it was not securely held at all. The tension among the soldiers became palpable as we travelled, knowing at any moment an attack could come out of the blinding whiteness that surrounded us.

I shook the snow from my cloak as I entered the worn doors into the hall of the small Keep that served as the central building of the fort. The rich black fur glittred as the candle light illuminated the tiny ice crystals. It had been a gift before we left, an offering to stifle my obvious annoyance at the whole endeavor.

I pause to take in the weather worn building, everything made of rough wood and stone, lit only by candles. A long table fills the space of the hall, a fire burning in the large hearth. The skeleton staff scurry to accommodate the officers we’ve brought with while the enlisted set up near the barracks outside. The hour is later than we planned and dark has fallen fully, tempers are suitably short all around.

I broke away from the general chaos and made for the stairs. My position at least guaranteed I’d be afforded private quarters. “My position.” I can’t help but laugh internally at the thought. What was my position - whore, concubine? That’s what they whisper in the Capitol. Really though, is it so far from the truth? One of the Officer’s staff show me to a room on one of the upper floors, tucked away down a small hall, with another room across from it.

The problem hadn’t started when I’d agreed to work for Jericho, or when I betrayed my family and killed my father. That was a resolution to conflict that had been long time coming, maybe it would’ve ended the same way without him. He simply forced things to their conclusion in way the benefited him.

I flop down on one of the least comfortable beds I’ve ever felt in my life, it feels heavenly though after the journey. I stretch and try to get my road weary muscles to relax.

The problem had started that first night though. I went to him for that promise of freedom he’d given, my life on my own terms, my family no longer allowed to shackle me. But I let my desire for him become entwined in what should have been business. Involuntarily I flashback to those maddened moments, his lips and hands on me, the way my body responded to him, smoldering desire erupting into an inferno. I realized too late I had given him a sense of ownership over me. And that had climaxed with his demand I take up residence in with him.

I’d been angry, angry he’d made it so obvious I was in his mind his property, angry that really, I had no choice. If you were the type in Noxus to need an assassin and know where to get one, chances are you would have heard who I worked for. There are no secrets in Noxus, not really. There wouldn’t be any trust in the Grand General’s “pet”. My only other choice, if you can call it a choice, would be to go back to mother and live as the dutiful daughter of the House. I’d been shackled again.

A knock at the door interrupts the pleasant haziness that’s settled in as I half dozed. I sigh and begin to sit up, I already know who it is. He doesn’t wait for my permission before the door swings open.

His presence is palpable and I feel it wash over me as soon as he takes a couple steps in. The sharp lines of his face bear a look of annoyance, not surprising given the delays today. Despite his years he’s still quite handsome with those classical looks and noble bearing.

“Kat, there you are. Settle in later, I have things I need to go over, join me.”  That’s the other side of the problem, that desire for him was still there, tempering my anger. I decided to make the best of the situation for the time being and admittedly we’d fallen into a comfortable partnership over the last couple months.

“Fine.” I deliberately put on a taxed expression as I get up and stride toward him. I gasp as his hands catch me around the waist and feel a surge of excitement as he pins me against the wall.

“If you’d rather I leave you alone for awhile, you can say just say so.” His lips crush mine, hungry and insistent until I yield. He pulls away leaving me breathless, that pleasant heat building inside me.

“Well, since you asked so nicely how could I refuse.” I smirk, trying to exasperate him a little.

He ignores it and kisses my forehead. “Good girl.” I try not to bristle at the patronizing tone, I know it only encourages him.

He veritably drags across the hall to his room. Already a fire burns in the hearth and there are papers scattered across the battered desk that sits near it. I follow him over to it and quick glance tells me it’s all the intelligence reports on the Avarosans and their leader, Ashe from spies, mage scryers, and anyone willing to be paid to talk.

As he sits he suddenly pulls me down into his lap. I loop my arm around his neck to steady myself from the sudden shift.I realize I should not be privy to anything written here. I’ll admit to being pleased at the trust.

“Our recent reports indicate the girl is terrified we’re going to start a war. She doesn’t believe her people can withstand an actual invasion, and they still have to contend with the Winter’s Claw. What do you think should we press that fear or remain gracious and friendly?”

Of course he’s going to come to his own conclusion, and probably already has. But he fixes those dark eyes on me and waits for me to answer. I feel raw and exposed in the seconds that follow, more so than even in our most intimate moments. Tell me to kill and I’ll never hesitate, never fail, but I’m out of my depth when speaking on diplomacy and politics. And he knows it, which irritates me. I answer the first thought I have anyway. “You’ve said she seems to genuinely care for her people. Fear may bring her to the table, but promises of peace and security without being conquered will be long term motivators.”

“Perceptive.” I feel the unnatural warmth of his left hand on my hip. “I agree with that assessment.” He squeezes a bit and I involuntarily lean a little further into him.

He spends the next hour or so going through every scrap of information, even though I know he’s already done so several times, asking questions he’s already decided the answer on.  We chat and banter back and forth a bit and several times he stops kisses neck or cheek, I run my hand through his hair and trace my fingers down the back of his neck.

Finally he sits back and takes a deep breath. I’ve never seen him look quite as tired as he does right now. A sudden, small pang of concern startles me. “You should get some sleep.” My voice is inexplicably soft. I kiss him lightly on the temple. “I’ll leave.”

He doesn’t move his arm from around me and sits silently for a moment, brow slightly creased. However, there’s no hesitation when he speaks “No, stay, sleep here.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. We have a rule about this as I was made acutely aware of before we left. I almost start in on a sarcastic reply but he looks weary enough that it dies on my tongue. “If you really want me to.”

“That is what I said, is it not?” His tone is light despite his words.

I get up and begin to strip away my heavy travelling clothes and extinguish most of the candles.  I notice as he moves about undressing that his slight limp is worse. I don’t make it my business to ask questions about the demon, but I gathered it keeps him from feeling as much pain as he should from the old wounds. I wonder a bit about how he would be without it right now.

Everything is thrown into soft light and shadow by the glow of the last candle as I turn back the covers and settle on to the bed.  He sits on the edge, removing the brace from his knee that he keeps carefully hidden under his clothes. He hisses slightly as the muscles in his back visibly stiffen. I move behind him and wrap my arms around waist, leaning my head against his back. My breath catches in my throat for a second. “Jericho, are you alright?”

He places a hand over mine. Time stops. For a moment everything feels different; softer, quiter. “I’m fine Kitten.” His words are so soft I barely even notice that damn nickname.

I let go and find my way under the covers. When he joins me after extinguishing the last candle I curl up next to and his arm wraps around me and pulls me closer. My pulse thunders. He kisses the top of my head and warmth spreads over the whole of me.  Godsdamn it, no, I can’t let this happen. This is not what we are. I want to flee to the sanctuary of my own bed, to not feel my heart beating against my chest. Instead I put my arm around his waist and close my eyes, hoping sleep comes quick.

[bendingfrost-blog]

While I do agree with you that the Frejlord as a faction has been reduced in importance recently. Compared to old it seems they are earlier in the story where Ashe has not united all factions yet. However to say there is no intrigue or drame is not correct. Mostly cause of one of New Swain's quotes to Ashe. 'She claimed it was the frost queen's grave. They believed her' raises questions that riot plans on just hinting at for now.

// I personally think that anything General Swain says should be taken with a liberal dose of salt.  That said, I did write down my thoughts on the new line in an earlier post, that basically boils down to ‘He didn’t actually say anything we didn’t already know, he's trying to imply there’s more.’While there’s room for the line to be foreshadowing a lore change, I don’t think that’s actually the case.  Not that I’m dismissing the idea.  As a divergent Ashe, there’s quite a few possibilities to mull over.But the core thing I’m unhappy about, grey mage, is that the new canon lore has isolated the Freljord from the outside.  It’s not part of any global story, and just sits in its own little bubble.  And that bubble doesn’t even have all that much going on.  It’s big, pretty, and has a lot of fluff inside it, but there’s not much happening.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 1

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected. Katarina/Swain

The black satin sheets were pulled up to her waist, her pale skin and fiery hair illuminated only by the moonlight. She was stunning, of course there was never a moment I didn’t find her so. Kat lay with her head resting on my chest, one arm around my waist. I could just see the outline of the small bruises that adorned her skin, neck to chest, fresh and just beginning to darken. Her closeness now was out of the ordinary, but she had been a mess, whimpering and squirming while I was leaving marks on her and then moaning herself into exhaustion. I ran my hand down her back while I was speaking and almost lost my train of thought while I contemplated all the things I’d like to do to her.

I had to admit, thus far our whole arrangement had worked out better than I could’ve imagined.  She of course had turned out to be the perfect instrument of death I had desired her to be, working exclusively for me since the demise of her father. And when she returned from assignments I’d find myself unable to resist that heady mixture of sensuality and bloodlust that was the essence of her.  

However I’d found that there was one drawback to having my own favorite exclusive assassin, it exposed to her to any number of secrets, both my own and those of the Empire. Especially given that she had at first been playing the dutiful daughter still, by her mother’s side, never speaking of what had become of her father.  That was another risk, leaving her exposed still to the cabal her parents were known to be apart of that of course still moved in the shadows, spoiling to take Noxus for its own selfish interests.

Some weeks ago I came to the conclusion something had to be done to mitigate the problems that were compounding within the situation. She’d been out in the border territories, taking care of some Governor’s trouble starting relation. The early autumn sun faded fast as I studied the map of the region laid out on the ancient oak table that took up a good portion of the study. This particular territory had been more than its fair share of trouble lately. I sat back in the high backed leather chair, reached for the glass of wine next to me, and contemplated ridding myself of every last Official there and starting over with fresh blood that would show a little more loyalty when push came to shove. The risk of open rebellion was becoming a little too concrete.

One of the maids had already been in to stoke the fire and I stared into the flickering shadows dancing over the shelves heavy with tomes and ancient volumes and the little used desk tucked in the corner. Thoughts of risks to the Empire brought me back to the question of what to do with Katarina.

Beatrice had come in from hunting and was perched close by grooming herself. “What to do with the assassin?” She gave a soft caw. “Very helpful as usual.”  The most obvious solution would be to simply kill her, go back to hiring multiple, very anonymous others to do what needed to be done.

A light tapping on the door interrupted those thoughts. “Enter.” And there she was, as though summoned by my thoughts, looking road weary but very clearly self satisfied. I rose to greet her, still weighing the options in my mind.  

“It went well, I trust.” The distance between us shrinking to mere inches.

A coy smiled played about her lips, but the blue of her sparked with excitement. “But of course. There may have been a small amount of collateral damage though…”

My arms wrapped around her waist and roughly pulled her against me. “You were being reckless.” I growled in her ear.

I felt her shiver against me as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like me at all.”

I could kill her now, just be done with what was certainly the inevitable. Much like the first time I had been in this situation though I found I simply didn’t desire to. She excelled at what she did and her loyalty had been unimpeachable thus far. I felt her lips trace my jawline. Still, something had to give.

I leaned in and kissed her roughly feeling my thoughts begin to cloud from the heat of her body pressed to mine. She tilted her head back, as I made my way down her neck, her breath turning to soft sighs. That’s when the solution came to me. She couldn’t betray me if she were more firmly under my control, made to be dependent on me, never far from my influence.

I left off my attentions on her and she sighed disappointedly. “Pressing business elsewhere?” She was irritated but her words still came out in a breathy whisper.

I disentangled myself from her, if she refused she’d leave me little choice but to put things to a permanent end. “No, but there’s something that’s been on my mind as of late that needs to be settled. You cannot continue to work for me and have my trust when you are in a position to be poisoned by outside influence.”

“And?” She ran a hand through her hair, the tell I’d made her nervous, and then crossed her arms. Curious, despite that nervousness her mind hadn’t gone down the path mine had. Foolish girl, did she actually trust me?

I put more distance between us, the last thing I needed was her to get any idea what I was about to propose had any sentimentality attached to it. “You will take up residence here, where I can make sure you are loyal. You’ll be well provided for and will continue to work for me as I need…”

She cut me off abruptly, her eyes flashing with a sudden fury. “Really, that’s your solution? To turn me into your property? “ Her voice is raised enough I know we can be overheard. “And no doubt you’ll expect more than just killing from me.”

Interesting, I hadn’t anticipated she’d be incensed by the idea. I remain calm, I know her well enough that matching her sudden fury will only make her more stubborn.  “Of course not, though it wouldn’t be unwelcome.  Is it really all that different than our current circumstance?”

“Of course it is, it’s you trying to control me entirely.” She makes a point of looking away from me.

I didn’t bother denying it. Seconds crawled by while I awaited her answer. Maybe I’d misread her entirely and perhaps she would refuse. I clenched my fist unconsciously, preparing for it.

“Fine.” She finally spat, arms still crossed, turning back to fix a glare on me. “Mother is insufferable anyway.”

For a moment I pondered exactly what she was thinking saying yes when she seemed to find the whole thing distasteful.I never bothered to ask her reasons, in truth it didn’t matter. I had her compliance and really that was all that was necessary.

That was what brought us to where we were now. Kat had taken residence in the rooms next door to mine, connected by a small discrete hall behind the two suites. The place that would have been reserved for a spouse if I’d ever married. Keeping the woman who was essentially now my mistress there would have scandalized my parents noble sensibilities, which added a small bit of appeal to the whole thing.

She’d gotten over her anger after a few days of stubbornly not speaking to me. Eventually coming out of her room to join me for dinner. which ended with her in my lap assuring me we had an understanding and she was satisfied with how things had worked out while sucking drops of wine off my fingertips.

I didn’t require her to kill often, many of mine and the Empire’s enemies had been dealt with. I kept her reserved for the most pressing of occasions. However that meant that more often I found myself with her like this, not just sharing physical intimacy, but conversing, trading ideas and opinions. As there aren’t many people I trust, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome to have another perspective from time to time.

Where was I? I focused my thoughts away from the temptations of her. Ah yes, Frejlord. “That’s why I’m going there personally.”

“Well, just be sure not to freeze to death.” She needled, but I was about to ruin her enjoyment of my possible discomfort.

“You can stop being smug, you’re coming with.”

That little smirk instantly turned into a grimace and a dramatic sigh. “What did I do to deserve that?”

I ran my hand through her hair. “Don’t be petulant. Have you been getting too spoiled lately, Kitten?” Something akin to a growl comes from her. I know the nickname irritates her, but her reaction is too irresistible.

“You know I hate that.” And she throws a soft punch connecting with my shoulder before trying to roll away from me.

She’s not fast enough, I trap her against me and lightly smack her bottom. “See, incredibly spoiled.” By this point she’s trying and failing to not laugh. She sticks her tongue out before settling back down on me. “And very immature.”

“I thought this trip was diplomacy only. I don’t see why I’m necessary.” She stretches a bit and yawns.

“I’d rather have all the options available than not.”

“Hmm, if you insist. At least tell me we’ll leave the bird at home. “ Bea makes an indignant noise from her perch.

“Don’t be cruel, you know she likes you.” I continue to go into particulars for a couple of minutes until I glance down and notice her eyes are closed. “Kat?” No response, she’s completely out.

We have a few rules, one of those is that we always sleep separately. It’s my mistake for letting her stay as long as I did. I should wake her and send her off to her room but it is late and she did just return from an assignment. I sigh and pull the covers up around her shoulders, one night will likely not harm anything.

I hear LeBlanc’s words from the Council meeting this morning where we went over the plans for the north.  “Are you just dragging your little pet along so you don’t get lonely up there.” Her poison smile mocking as ever. I’d kill her if I could figure out how.

Kat shifts and her arm wraps back around my waist, without thinking I kiss the top of her head. I simply have to control the situation and be more careful in the future.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 4

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected. Katarina/Swain

General Argos steps aside as the two leaders greet one another. There’s wariness in her features but it softens slightly after a moment. They’re speaking too lowly to be heard, but as her stance relaxes a bit the mood spreads to those around her.

A pavilion had been erected to serve as a meeting space less intimidating than entering the Keep itself. In a moment they’re headed towards it, two of her warriors flanking her on either side. Formality melts away and slowly our two factions begin cautiously interacting. I suppose I should get to work.

A young man stands off to the side of a larger group; handsome face, not far into manhood, and looking unsure and out of place. I consider it and catch his eye, but decided against it. I hate seduction games and my last foray into that most assuredly did not go my way. Then I spot her, not far off, a little deeper in the crowd. Similar dress to the young man, a little more involved with those around, but still seeming apart. They likely came from the same tribe that was absorbed into the Avarosans.

I make my way towards her from behind, turn slightly to my side and walk into her. “Oh my apologies, I wasn’t looking.

She’s less than friendly. “Feh Southerners, does the cold make it hard for you people to think.” But she speaks common, so good enough.

“So sorry, again, it’s just so overwhelming, all these people, all the important visitors.” I make a sweeping gesture and gawk about trying to sell my naivete.

She spits on the ground. “All I see are Noxians trying to get Frejlord to bend the knee, as usual.”

“Well, that is what they tend to do. I know that first hand.” I shuffle my feet a bit and stare at the ground.

“That so? How’d you end up in a Noxian camp?” She’s skeptical but there’s sympathy there as well. Good.

“I was forced into servitude when my family was ruined.” That’s got enough truth in it. “All thanks to him.” I shoot a look over to the pavilion and instantly forget what I was saying. He’s hovering exceptionally close to the young Warmother, closer than he has any real reason to be, granting her the smallest ghost of a smile. I feel my blood begin to boil and take a deep breath to force it down.

She notices but thankfully says nothing, perhaps attributing it to my fictional past. “Ashe won’t bend though, and neither will any of us. Not even if the whole might of Noxus makes its way north.”

“So you say. But I’ve heard the Empire is looking for allies, not conquests here.” I watch her face, waiting the see what she feels. She furrows her brows and looks away. She knows that already. “You should stay out of business that doesn’t concern you.”

“Lorna, you’re so unfriendly.” The young man from earlier saunters over. “Don’t mind her my dear, she’s afraid you’ve all come to corrupt our way of life.” So much confidence, maybe I can deal with him after all.

“Oh, is that so?” I smile and look up at him through my eyelashes.

“I don’t care what all of you say, we don’t need the help or friendship of Noxus.” She stalks off leaving me with the boy making eyes at me. I glance over at the pavilion and he’s somehow even closer to her, gesturing at something on the table in front of them, ensuring they occasionally brush against one another. Godsdamn him, of course diplomacy with a pretty young thing involves him trying to bed her. I’m not a naive child, I know that there are others. This is the first time I’ve had to watch it play out though and it dredges back up that raw stinging emotion from this morning.

I focus on what I’m supposed to be doing and turn back to the young man. “So you don’t mind us southerners?” I try to keep my voice soft and sweet.

“Of course, we need friends, haven’t got many.” I try to listen as he continues on but it feels peculiarly like the tip of a knife is digging into my chest.

There’s a bit of a stir in the crowd as she comes out of the pavilion and someone sets up a target. He follows soon after, gesturing to the bow on her back. For the moment rational thought vanishes, I need to know what’s said between them.  “I’d like to see this.” I drag my new companion along and get as close to them as possible.

He settles next to me, still happily chatting. “Wait until you this!”

She draws the ice bow from her back, an arrow of sparkling ice appearing from out of the air, and she fires. The arrow flies swift, striking the target true, frost sprouting from it. She does the same with another arrow, and then yet another. All of them striking the target perfectly, enveloping it in a crystalline shell. Her people whoop and cheer. “Spectacular. You are as masterful as they said.” I know that tone of his too well. He glances about drawing her attention to the crowd. “There are many ears and eyes about. I wonder if you would be amenable to moving our conversation somewhere a bit more private?” I clench my fists hard enough that if I wasn’t wearing gloves my nails would draw blood.

“No, I have no secrets from my people.” I wonder if she caught on.

“Very well.” There’s a subtle note to his voice, he hides it well enough from everyone else, but I can tell he’s annoyed. At least I won’t have to spend the night listening to him fuck some barbarian.

As they turn and make their way back to the pavilion the boy starts to speak again. Thankfully one of the Officers approaches and slips a note into my hand. “You have duties to see to.”

The boy next to me visibly deflates. “Well it was fun while it lasted.”

I make a noncommittal noise and leave him staring after me as I make my way out of the crowd. Once I’m far from prying eyes I open the note: “Our new friend has left a significant number of her forces to the west. He asks that you go and observe them and report back”

We have scouts for this. He knows that and he knows this is insulting. He drags me all the way up here for this! I’m going to stab him in his sleep, I swear.

I shove back through the crowds and head inside to my room to collect my daggers. Might as well get this over with as quickly as possible. A moment later a young soldier is at the door with a supply pack, I snatch it out of his hands and dismiss him with a gesture. I take the side entrance and slip around to the back of the Keep. The small gate there is only large enough for one person to cross through. The guards admit me with no questions. It swings open to reveal an icy nightmare.

West, that’s all the direction I have, west and a horde of barbarians somewhere. I pull up the hood of heavy coat, making sure all my hair is tucked inside. I give the fort a wide berth and keep my senses alert for scouts. The landscape is peppered with ridges from the rise to the mountains behind me. They make concealment easy and the Winter’s Claw is known to move through this region. Clusters of pines grow sporadically here and there, clinging to life where they can.

A fine light powder begins to fall from the sky, perfect. I can’t imagine her tribe would be too far from her. If I move quickly I might be able to do this before a real storm kicks up. I’d prefer not to get stranded out here and freeze to death. There are better ways to go.

It hasn’t even reached midday yet. I trudge on for a few hours, ears straining in relative silence, the snow coming and going. I feel the cold start seeping into my skin, my fingers don’t feel as sharp as they could. And in the barrenness and quiet, I find myself with nothing to do but think as I walk.

I relive last night several times, the strange soft moments between us, the feeling of him next to me as I drifted off. I chide myself when I feel my heart beat a little faster. That line of thinking is nothing but folly. I’m a tool for him to use and nothing more, as he proved this morning. Last night was a product of exhaustion. And yet when I think of him and that girl back at the fort, the anger is fresh and burning.

The sun has travelled a lot further than I would have liked. Darkness comes early up here. I pause for a moment, scanning the horizon, and then I hear it, the howl of wolves in the distance. As if I didn’t have enough to contend with out here already.

There in the distance though, a small plume of smoke from behind a large ridge. I keep to the shadows of smaller ridges and trees as I approach. It looms before me, full of rocky outcroppings and scrub pines. The climb to the summit is risky, but the vantage point will give me full view of those beyond it and get this ridiculous errand over with. I find a handhold in the craggy surface and begin my ascent. The going is painfully slow and I pick and choose carefully where to go next, the fine powder now falling a bit more quickly.

Each movement is perilous, one hand then one foot. Halfway up I stop at a larger ledge to catch my breath and stretch my hands, hoping the sharp cramps subside. I exhale and watch my frozen breath drift away from me.

I keep going, feeling the burn in my muscles, and the sting of the cold. Finally one last hoist and I’m at the top. The view momentarily takes my breath away. An actual forest to the east stretches for miles. The setting sun glints off the endless whiteness to the west. I almost wish I had more time to take it in. And of course there’s the reason I’m here, slightly to the north, the encampment. They’re close enough to get a rough observation

I keep myself low and hidden. I could try to get closer, but night is coming. I can tell from here though that the girl is right to be afraid. It’s a fair fighting force and they could elude the army for awhile in this landscape. If they were caught in the open like this though, they’d be crushed in no time.I stay a bit longer, watching them, making little notes in my mind, before deciding I’ve seen enough. It may not be as much as he wanted but he sent me instead of a scout so he gets to deal with my decisions.

The trip back down the ridge is predictably slow as I test each foot hold before putting my weight down. The sun is now nearly gone behind the horizon. I stay even longer at the large ledge, every muscle in my body now blazing with pain. By the time I hit the ground night has truly fallen.

I start my way back with much more haste, no longer encumbered by searching for signs of life. But I do hear something, the howl of wolves once again. I can feel the temperature dropping with every step I take. The snow at least had tapered off, the clouds clearing from the sky, allowing the moonlight illuminate my path. Finally as even my mind seems to grow numb with the cold I realize I’m getting close.

Something moves in the corner of my eye. I reach for a dagger, my grip suffering in the cold. The first wolf, larger than any I’d seen before, rushes from the right. It moves at an almost unnatural speed, a blur of grey.  I leap into the air over it, bringing the dagger down towards its spine. I make contact and the beast yelps, but between the numbness and its flailing, I’m thrown to the side. It goes down, I can’t tell if I managed to kill it.  

I hear the second one rushing toward me. I struggle to rise in the loose powder around me and it leaps. I bring another dagger up as it lands on me, driving me back to the ground. Its teeth snap for my throat, hot drool dripping from its fangs. searching for the kill, as I use the dagger to keep it at bay. I feel a stinging sensation as it grazes my neck, a warm trickle of blood runs down my skin. I push it back, the dagger tearing through my glove and biting into my palm. It scrabbles a bit, unprepared for a fight with its prey.  I twist my wrist quickly and slash, opening its throat as I throw it off me.

The first is back up on unsteady legs and attempting to charge again. It’s slowed by the wound and I make it to my feet and leap out its path before it can react. I come down to the side of the beast anticipating its path. With only seconds to finish it off I let the dagger fly and it buries itself deep in the creature’s flank. With a final yelp it falls.

I take a moment to catch my breath before retrieving my knives. I wipe the blood off in the snow and secure them back in place.  I push on, the adrenaline dying away, leaving me cold, fatigued, and colossally irritated at this whole endeavor. Finally the walls of the fort rise up before me and I make my way toward the gate, imagining the relief of crawling into bed and blissfully passing out.