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matronoftheblackrose · 4 years ago

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An Overdue Conversation

No need for smoke- there was plenty from the Ruination’s mists.

No need for mirrors- there was no way to trick the dead or the insightful.

The Matron of the Black Rose herself actually stood at the gates of Noxus, staring down the legions of the dead surging towards the city’s gates. Calm, collected, and bored, she waited.

As the dead approached, as the thundering hooves of the cavalry thundered to her, they fell quiet immediately upon seeing LeBlanc. Hecarim was the only one who dared trot close enough to loom over the Matron.

“Matron of the Black Rose. Queen of Traitors. The Whoremother of Assassins. The Toxic Trull. The-”

“If you are going to title me with the entire slut nomenclature then I am sorry to disappoint you, Hecarim, darling, but I will have to cut you short,” LeBlanc interrupted. With a sway of her hip, she bumped the shaft of her staff to give it the momentum for a quick twirl, Sparkles of violet light trailed the crystals on her staff’s head as she pointed it at the Shadow of War. “Also, trull? Really? I have not been called as such for a literal millennia.”

“Speaking to the Sovereign of Subterfuge requires little respect from even the lowest worm. Begone, none of your tricks shall sway our charge or change your fate.”

“Tricks?” LeBlanc giggled her cascading, crystalline laughter. “You should know, Hecarim, that if I were lying, if I had some elaborate scheme... well, what would it be? I am here, in the flesh, able to be ran through and slain with ease.”

Hecarim’s ground his teeth, the metallic fangs screeching as he did so. He pointed his glaive at the Matron... but did not strike. “You are, indeed, here. Your trick, therefore, must be some other ruse.”

“You are most definitely correct, oh astute Hecarim. My ruse, dear, is I want to speak to Viego.“

“King Viego, wench,” Hecarim hissed.

“King Viego, you hollowed out show pony,” LeBlanc shot back with a smile. Her voice shifted, ever so slightly, ever so perfectly, as she continued, “I think it is time to have a proper conversation with our beloved king.”

“Isolde?” the army of undead monstrosities whispered in unison.

Hecarim raised his glaive, aimed it at LeBlanc’s heart, and slammed his weapon down with all of his might- only to find his arms unable to move. His jaw moved, screeching and grinding, as he spoke another’s words.

“You dare speak in her voice! You dare! You-! You... You remember. You remember her voice.”

“Ah, Viego. Fantastic, I can speak to the king and not his messenger.” LeBlanc clapped her hands together and pointed behind Hecarim in that voice, “Yes, my beloved king, I do remember Queen Isolde’s voice. I remember her face, I remember her curves, and I remember every little bit about her. My memory, moi bleu roi, is perfect after all of these years. While yours, it wanes at times...”

“What is it you offer me, Emilia? To put yourself forth so brazenly, so bravely, it is, how do you say- stupid of you. So, uncharacteristic.”

LeBlanc took in a deep breath. Evaine was scared, oh yes- most certainly, but this was a matter so far out of her hands. This was a matter Emilia of all beings wanted to deal with. The name alone, Isolde... what a matron she would have made. What an ancient pain, such an ancient incident... and how vile Viego was. Isolde was such an odd duck, and the memories of her face, her voice, even her death, were all still so fresh to the anicent entity that was LeBlanc. Only one other had ever made such a deep mark in the Deceiver’s psyche, and she had since reunited with him under Noxus. In fact, the Deceiver knew He was watching her, seeing this unfold. It took so very long, but to give Noxus more time to prepare for the Ruination? This had to be done. The deal had been struck, and LeBlanc was loving this. To see Matron Emilia LeBlanc, the Deceiver Herself, love anything else other than Him, it honestly unnerved Evaine.

In fact, the Matron was loving every single second now. If it had been a year ago, a month ago or even a week ago, perhaps she would have still feared the arrival of the Ruined King. But now, now it was almost time that this insufferable, screaming man child who threw tantrums when he did not get his way would finally get what he deserved. The thousand year old mistake finally corrected. Viego was meant to die, but when poor, stupid, sweet Isolde stepped in the assassin’s way- in Her way... It was not even a poisoned blade... Isolde, why-?

“Delaying your death with silence? I have seen knights and worms grovel as such, but you, Emilia? Delaying with noble silence? I must admit, time has been unkind to you in some ways. Hecarim aches to release you of this mortal coil.”

“Oh come now, you have no appreciation of dramatic build up?” LeBlanc roleld her eyes. “Very well, King Viego, this is my offer: If you back away from Noxus, go attack Demacia or whatever other backwater country you desire, I shall gift you one of the most important things you can ever own: A memory.”

Hecarim bellowed a laugh, one shared by the thousands of shrieking spirits.

“Your memories mean nothing, Deceiver. You will not implant anything, I know all of your tricks.”

“Then it is good that I did not mean an intangible memory.” LeBlanc reached to the side of her dress, gave it a gentle tug, and pulled free from the folds of her cloak a simple, blue haired doll and a pair of scissors. “I offer you a first memory.”

#Gwen #League of Legends #Viego #LeBlanc

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