#you're our knight. i suppose that makes us your ward

[the-flowerpatch]

many thoughts, many thoughts…

[helloalycia]

the king’s ward [one] // morgana pendragon

summary: when you and your brother travel to Camelot to compete in a fighting competition, there's one problem: women can't fight. So, naturally, you convince him to switch places with you whilst you have your chance to fight. And impressing the King's Ward is merely a bonus.

warning/s: mentions of fighting and violence.

author's note: hello! so this was impulse written not long ago when i rewatched merlin bc who doesn't love katie mcgrath? it's inspired by that merlin ep where arthur uses a decoy in his jousting (?) match! and it's kind of like she's the man if you think about it haha, so do enjoy! it's a multi-part imagine :)

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

"This is gonna be amazing, Y/B/N," I said with a grin, trying to contain my excitement as we approached the tournament grounds.

"Reign it in," he said lightheartedly, though I knew he was right. I wasn't supposed to be competing, he was, so I had to play the part.

Every year, Camelot held a fighting tournament that anybody could compete in, even those who weren't knights. There were no rules and it was an open competition, however despite nothing explicitly saying women couldn't compete, it was a given. And so every year, I only dreamt of competing so that I could see if I was as good as I hoped. Finally, I came up with the genius idea for my brother, Y/B/N, to pretend to compete whilst I actually did the fighting. It wasn't foolproof, but I was desperate, and he agreed after much convincing.

We'd arrived in Camelot last night, our first ever visit to the kingdom, and were staying in the full to-the-brim tavern in a room above the pub. It wasn't ideal, but it would do the job. The real reason I was here was right before me and I couldn't be more excited.

"Y/B/N Y/L/N?" a voice called, and my brother and I both spun around to see a servant boy approaching. "You're up first. You can use the tent over there to get into your armour, if you have any."

"Thank you," Y/B/N said with a nod before we both headed over to his – AKA mine – tent.

"This is perfect for making the switch," I said with a contained grin, looking around the enclosed space.

"You heard the boy, you're up first," Y/B/N said with a smile, before dropping our bag on the bench. "Let's get you suited up."

He helped me pull my armour over the top of my clothes, a bulky-looking but lightweight set that fit us both and was easy enough for me to manoeuvre in whilst also hiding any distinguishable feminine body parts that could give me away. After that, he handed me my sword and gave me a supportive nod.

"Good luck out there," he said, my helmet in his hand. "You're gonna smash it, sis."

I grinned. "I will indeed. They aren't going to know what's hit them."

He laughed and helped me put on my helmet, the metal covering my whole head except for some slits in the eyes to let me see.

"You ready?" he asked once more, and I gave him a thumbs up, already committing to staying quiet. He patted my back. "Go and win!"

Taking a deep breath, I left the tent and headed to the grounds, the sight of all those people watching only exciting me more. All I'd ever dreamt of was showing people my skills, for them to take me seriously. Not as a woman or a man, but a fighter. And this was my chance, finally. I wasn't going to let it slip by.

"I'm sure you're all excited about the tournament, as am I," the King began to speak, silencing everyone in seconds. "It's going to be a magnificent week of fighting, skill and talent. We shall see who the best fighters of Albion truly are. Starting with our first match of the tournament – Y/B/N Y/L/N versus Henry Wright!"

The crowd erupted into cheers as my opponent and I walked in the centre, our chosen weapons at our side. The King looked down at us both with anticipation, waiting for quiet. And then when he was ready, he raised his hand.

"You may begin," was all he said, and I barely had chance to take a breath before my opponent, Henry, swung first.

His mace, spiked and heavy, almost took my head off if I didn't move in time. The crowd 'ooh'd' as it did and I tried to tune them out, focusing on the fight. I couldn't afford distractions.

As Henry kept moving forward, slashing his mace at me and trying to touch my armour, I dodged effortlessly. Henry may have been strong, but he was slow, and his weapon of choice was particularly terrible. Once he'd worn himself out, it was my turn to take a swing at him, my sword coming down on his gauntlets in a wide arc. Contact was made and he grunted loudly, grossly, and stepped back. I slashed a few more times, to which he was now on the defensive, using his clunky weapon as a barrier. But it didn't faze me as I kept on slashing, trying to back him into the side.

Once he was trapped, I let him take a shot at me, only to roll to the side at the last second and swipe his legs out from beneath him. He hit the ground as quickly as I directed my sword at his neck. Lifting his hands in defeat, I couldn't fight the grin from my lips.

The crowd erupted into cheers, yelling my brother's name, and I lowered my sword before offering out my hand. Henry let me pull him up before letting go bitterly, walking off the grounds. I laughed to myself before looking around me at the crowd, waving a little too cockily. I couldn't help it – I'd won! My first match!

When I turned to face the King, I saw he was clapping in his chair, impressed at my handiwork. Seated beside him was his ward, Morgana, and I'd heard so much of her but never seen her before. I wasn't prepared for her beauty, nor the vibrancy of her green eyes in the sun, even from a distance. And once again, I couldn't help but let my cockiness get the better of me. Between waving, I blew her a kiss, facing her directly in a way that I hoped she knew it was for her. Judging from the way she immediately turned pink in the face, I knew I'd succeeded.

After soaking in the glory a moment longer, I left to return to Y/B/N who was waiting for me in the tent. As soon as he saw me, a grin was on his face.

"Sounds like you gave them a good show," he commented as I rushed to remove my helmet and armour.

"Y/B/N, it was like nothing I've ever experienced," I admitted, still buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. "It was perfect. And you should've seen the way I got the other guy on his butt!"

He chuckled as I helped pull the armour onto him. "I'm sure it was something special. It's a shame I can't watch."

"We can't risk you being caught," I reminded him, before handing my sword and helmet. "Go on. Do your final waves. Don't forget to rub it in their face that I won, yeah?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm not doing that."

I laughed as he left the tent. My smile was permanent as I stood alone. One round down, several more to go.

"The other guys are pretty rough," Y/B/N said as we hung back to watch the other matches and get a better feel for the competition. "You sure you're up for it?"

"Don't even joke," I said to him with a knowing look. "You know it's all I want. They don't scare me."

He raised his eyebrows. "Hey, I was thinking more about them. They're gonna get smothered and not even know it. You don't wanna give them a chance?"

A smile grew on my lips as I shoved him in the side. "You're so stupid."

He mirrored my smile before paying attention to the fights. We stayed there until the last fight before chatting about what we'd seen by the tents. The crowd was dispersing and the other fighters were talking about getting a drink at the tavern, even inviting my brother to join them. He found it strange, the attention, especially since he knew it wasn't for him. I assured him he had to be a team player and not raise suspicion, but he wasn't impressed.

As we were chatting, I couldn't help but notice a blur of black hair in my peripheral vision, and when I looked, I saw the Lady Morgana walking by with her handmaiden. She spotted my brother and I and, naturally, her attention was on my brother. She flashed him a smile, to which he awkwardly returned, and then began to approach us.

"Er, why is the Lady Morgana coming to talk to us?" Y/B/N asked nervously.

"No idea," I said, though my own smile was tempting to break out as my eyes wandered over her figure. She was seriously stunning.

"Hello there," Morgana spoke when she stopped before us. "It's Y/B/N, right?"

He nodded slowly, before clearing his throat and bowing. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady."

"Please, no need for the formalities," she said with a slight laugh, one that I knew I'd be dreaming of for days. "I just came to say that you put up a good fight this morning. I look forward to seeing your performance throughout the week."

"Thank you, my lady," was all he said, and I almost rolled my eyes at his dense self. Couldn't he see she was interested him?

"And who is this pretty lady?" she continued, and I realised she was speaking to me.

"I'm Y/N, my lady," I introduced myself with a smile. "Y/B/N's twin sister. Not identical, thankfully."

Y/B/N rolled his eyes as Morgana laughed at my joke.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Y/N," she said, eyes lingering on mine. "Might I say, you have a very talented brother."

I hummed in agreement, biting my tongue and trying not to laugh. Talented... I'd take it.

"I should be going, but have a good evening, both of you," Morgana finished, glancing between us before leaving.

"Y/N, what did you do? Why is she suddenly interested?" Y/B/N asked as I watched her walk away, entranced.

"Nothing," I reassured him, before tearing my gaze from Morgana and looking to Y/B/N. "What? I didn't do anything!"

He rolled his eyes and shoved me before walking away. I bit my lip to contain a grin and skipped after him. I was beginning to like it here.

The next fight was soon upon me and it was safe to say that I was nailing it. My opponent was supposed to be a challenge, but I could swear it was only getting easier. He was over six feet tall and towering over me. Compared to me AKA Y/B/N, he was huge. Luckily for me, height wasn't an issue as my brother and I were close enough in height, a solid five foot eight and nine respectively, so it wouldn't give us away.

The fight was over in minutes, with me landing a winning blow to my clown of an opponent, right in the gut. As soon as he was down, the crowd were up and out of their seats, cheering me on. The intensity of their cheering surprised me at first, as I didn't realise they loved me so much. It took them longer to calm down, and a few flowers were thrown from the stands, making me grin as I waved at them. When I looked to the King, he was surprisingly smiling as he clapped his leather-gloved hands heavily. Morgana was stood up beside him, clapping with the crowd, and I couldn't stop myself.

Without thinking, I picked up a flower from the ground, dusted it off on my armour and threw it up to her. I was relieved when it landed at her feet, worried I'd missed, and she seemed surprised as she picked it up. When she looked at me, I bowed respectfully, making the crowd cheer even louder, and I tried to pretend I couldn't see King Uther losing his smile as he looked at me with suspicion. Oops?

I jogged back to the tent, feeling lightweight and overwhelmingly happy. Y/B/N clapped me on the back in congratulations before we exchanged gear and he headed back out to reveal his face, waving once more.

After he soaked in the glory for a little longer, I packed up our things and we left the tent to get some water. A few knights, to our surprise, approached us and began chatting to Y/B/N about his technique. He played along perfectly, since he was a decent fighter himself, and I merely watched as they spoke of my moves and skill, grinning to myself. Clearly I was doing better than I thought if the knights of Camelot were complimenting me.

"Hey, Y/B/N," a voice called from behind, and we both turned to see a flirtatiously-smiling Morgana walking past. She nodded at my brother, saying, "The flower was cute."

Poor Y/B/N was clueless. "The flower?"

Morgana laughed, thinking he was joking, and left. I suppressed a smile as we both turned to the knights. One of them gave Y/B/N a knowing look.

"Bold move giving the King's ward a flower right in front of the King himself," they said with a snicker, before leaving.

Y/B/N blinked and began to turn to me. "I did what?"

I smiled sheepishly. "What? She was impressed by my skill! How could I resist?"

"Y/N!"

"Look, she's pretty and she deserved it, okay?" I said nonchalantly. "It's no biggie."

He facepalmed and I could tell he was already regretting changing places with me.

Later that same evening, Y/B/N and I were making the most of the training grounds that Prince Arthur was letting the contestants use for the week. To everyone else, I was merely practicing with him, but to us, he was actually helping me practice. 

For the third time in five minutes, I knocked Y/B/N on his butt and laughed at the expression on his face.

"C'mon, at least give me some sort of challenge," I teased, holding out my hand for him.

He let me help him up as he gave me a knowing look. "Don't be too good or people will suspect."

I scoffed. "Nobody will think twice about me."

"Oh yeah, because you're so inconspicuous dressed like that," he said sarcastically.

I ignored him, though I knew he was only looking out for me. Ladies wore frocks and dresses, not pants and shirts. But I didn't like to be restricted – why was that such a bad thing? I hated that I had to put myself in a box just to make others feel comfortable. It wasn't fair.

"Are you ready?" I asked, readying my sword.

He nodded and did the same before coming at me without warning. I held my own well enough, even with him giving his all, and with the utmost satisfaction, I managed to land him on his butt yet again. He narrowed his eyes at me and I began to laugh before pissing him off that little bit more by twiddling the hilt of my sword on my forefinger in the air, watching it spin before catching it. It was a silly little celebratory move I liked to do, one that Y/B/N hated because it usually meant I had beaten him.

Grumbling to himself, Y/B/N helped himself stand up as I watched on with amusement.

"Impressive."

Surprised, I turned around and definitely didn't expect to see the Lady Morgana approaching us.

"You're almost as good as your brother," she commented, looking at me.

Smile fading slightly, I tried not to draw anymore attention to myself. "Something like that."

She lifted a brow curiously. "It's a shame you couldn't compete. You're better than half the men in this competition."

"It's just how it is, my lady. The King's rules," I said, though I was secretly smiling because she thought I was good. As me, the real me, not my brother.

"If it were up to me, I'd have loved to watch you fight," she said, making me smile to myself. I risked glancing at her and saw she was watching me with her own smile, before looking to my brother.

"Good luck tomorrow," she said to him considerately.

"Thank you, my lady," Y/B/N said, bowing.

She nodded her head at him before catching my staring, offering a smile, then leaving.

"Gosh, she's so pretty," I said, unable to look away from her.

"Not here, not now," Y/B/N said in a warning tone before slapping me on the back.

"I'm gonna win just to see her smile," I decided, finally looking away from her retreating figure.

Y/B/N rolled his eyes, shaking his head with disbelief. I raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Another round?"

"No way," he said immediately, making me laugh as I watched him walk away.

"Like you always do," I whispered to myself as I stood face to face with my next opponent. "Come on."

My opponent carried a sword and shield and was very good with both, as I'd seen him using it these past few days. Probably the first real challenge I had, I was a little nervous, but one look at my sword reminded me why I was here and what I was capable of. I wasn't going to let this man throw me off.

As we fought, I quickly realised he wasn't going to tire out easily. As quick as he was skilful, he dodged all of my slashes, blocked all of my stabs and avoided all of my feigned shots. He was too good, keeping me on my toes. I was growing tired as the minutes dragged on and he knew this, using it as his opportunity to slam his shield against me, knocking me back. I tuned out the audience's reactions, shaking my head to get back into it.

I let him believe he was going in for a strike before rolling out the way and slashing the back of his legs. He groaned as he spun around, blocking my next hit. This seemed to piss him off as he came at me quick and hard, striking every second and driving me further and further backwards. One sturdy hit with his shield and I was on my back. Just as he tried to strike me, I rolled out the way and stood up, putting some distance between us.

Collecting myself, I saw that he pulled his shield over him once more and knew I needed to use that to my advantage. He wasn't going to let it go, no matter how hard I hit it. And I was already growing tired, my body battered and bruised, my energy depleting. If he kept going like this, he'd surely win. And I couldn't let him.

A stupid idea came to my head and I figured it was worth a shot if I was already losing. Why not?

Running directly at my opponent, I watched as he tucked in, shield up and ready to block my hit. Just when he was about to shove it towards me, I used the momentum to jump on it, over his head and hitting the ground, just about. I was so shocked it worked that I almost forgot to use his own surprise to my advantage. Without wasting a second, I spun around and smacked the hilt of my sword at the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. Worried I'd hit him too hard, I kneeled down to listen in.

When he let out a breath, I sighed with relief and stood up, eyes closing for a moment. Then the stands shook as everyone stood up, cheering and yelling and clapping, and I opened my eyes with a smile. As I waved my sword hand in the air, bowing, the cheering only intensified and I couldn't stop grinning. Admittedly, the thrill of it all got to my head and I began to show off, waving to the crowd on all sides. Just because I could, I twiddled my sword on the tip of my gloved forefinger in the air and threw it up before catching it by the hilt. The crowd seemed to love it and a grin was permanently fixed on my face as I left the grounds to return to my tent.

"That's the loudest I've ever heard them," Y/B/N said as soon as he saw me. "What did you do?"

"Whatever I could," I said between a laugh, before pulling off my helmet. "Get me out of this, I'm so hot."

He chuckled and helped me out of it, and I helped him into it as usual. Giving him his sword and helmet, I sent him off before taking a deep breath and drinking lots of water. My body was aching and there were definitely bruises all along my legs and chest, but I didn't care because that was insane. How the hell did I manage that?! Whatever it was, it was incredible and I couldn't wait to do it again in my next fight.

Y/B/N returned after soaking in the glory, pulling off the armour and ready to help me pack it all away, but to both of our surprises, Prince Arthur walked in the tent.

"Hello," he greeted awkwardly, before looking to Y/B/N. "You fought excellently today. I wanted to ask if you'd have a word with me outside."

I hid my smile as my brother nodded, exchanging glances with me before following after the prince. Prince Arthur was impressed by me? No way. There was no way! I'd have to fight him soon enough, since he was also competing, but who cared? He was impressed!

I tried to contain my excitement as I went about packing away my armour, stuck in my own daydream land. So much, in fact, that I didn't hear anybody enter the tent behind me.

"It's you!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a familiar voice came out of nowhere. Spinning around, I was surprised to see the Lady Morgana standing there with a shocked smile on her face.

"Huh?"

She licked her lips, stepping fully inside the tent and glancing behind her, before looking to me. Lowering her voice, she said, "It's you. The fighting out there. It's not your brother, it's you."

When I finally managed to stop getting distracted by her pretty smile and listened to what she was saying, my own smile faded.

Swallowing hard, I played dumb. "What? That's crazy."

I tried to busy myself with packing my bag whilst also panicking inside, but she kept going with it.

"The sword trick at the end," she stated with confidence. "Where you twirl it on your finger. You did the same thing when you beat your brother yesterday. It's you, isn't?"

I closed my eyes, cursing myself at my stupidity. The damned sword trick. Why did I have to let my cockiness get the better of me?

"Maybe," I admitted, turning to face her, and she smiled to herself.

"I bloody knew it! Well– okay, maybe I didn't, but it makes sense," she said. "Your brother acts like a completely different person out on the grounds compared to when he's literally anywhere else. Because it's not him."

I stayed quiet, both embarrassed that I'd been caught out and nervous to what it meant for me.

"Wait," she realised, pausing, and I could practically see her brain working everything out. Green eyes met mine as she asked, "The flower. Blowing me the kiss. That was... that was you?"

If only the earth could swallow me up there and then.

"I was committing to the role...?" I said dumbly, making me her chuckle. Beginning to panic even more now, I said, "Look, if I'm in trouble, please don't punish Y/B/N. He didn't even want to do this, but I made him. It was the only way I could compete. I just wanted to see how far I could get."

She furrowed her brows, a confused smile on her face. "Y/N, you're not in trouble."

I blinked, taken aback. "I'm not in... huh?"

"I won't tell a soul," she promised, expression softening. "Keep doing what you're doing. You've single-handedly impressed every member of the court, all the knights, the prince and the King himself. You're amazing, Y/N."

At her words, I began to smile, feeling a sense of pride take over. "Why are you doing this?"

She shrugged, playing coy. "Maybe it's women sticking together. Maybe it's because I enjoy watching you fight. Or maybe I don't want to see you getting punished for being such a good fighter."

I sighed quietly, a sense of relief spreading through me. "Whatever it is, thank you, my lady. Truly."

"It's Morgana," she corrected, eyes flickering between mine.

I pursed my lips to stop my smile from widening, and then she stepped forward and kissed my cheek, making me freeze at the contact.

"And thank you for the flower," she whispered in my ear, before stepping back.

My mouth went dry as I watched her red lips curled into a smile before she left the tent. I was certain I was as red as her lipstick, my heart racing in my chest. A grin soon formed on my lips and I couldn't stop.

Moments later, Y/B/N returned and seemed surprised with his chat with Prince Arthur, but I was too distracted thinking about Morgana, my cheek still tingling from her touch.

"The prince wanted to personally congratulate me on my progress thus far," Y/B/N shared. "He hopes to see me make it to the finals so he can see what I'm all about up close."

His words went in one ear and out the other. Did Morgana always smell of jasmine, I wondered?

"Seriously? I thought you'd be dying to know more," Y/B/N said with suspicion.

"What?" I finally tuned back in, kind of. "Yeah, that's great, Y/B/N."

He studied me curiously. "I just saw the Lady Morgana leave here. What did she want?"

"Huh?" I asked, half listening.

"Y/N!" he said, startling me.

Finally, his words settled and I answered, "She just wanted to compliment how great you did today."

"How kind," he said, not believing me.

I couldn't tell him that she actually knew the truth – he'd get cold feet and back out of the competition, and then I'd never get to prove myself. Besides, Morgana said she wouldn't tell anyone, so we were still good to go. What Y/B/N didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Wait," I said, finally acknowledging what he said earlier. "What did Prince Arthur say about me?"

Y/B/N groaned dramatically and grabbed the bag of armour, ignoring me. I was forced to chase after him, doing his head in about everything the prince said.

[minti-tales]

"Do you think she'll turn out well as a Temple Knight? Our ward, I mean."

Angelique, majordomo of House Treleaux, gave a grunt of acknowledgement, her head still buried in the book she was reading. A True Account of the Foundation of Ishgard was a riveting read indeed, if the torn sleeves and cracked spine were any indication. "We should be expecting a visit from the Count de Fortemps by week's end. That Haurchefaunt boy *insists* on visitation hours with our ward, despite protestations. I say, she is bound to be noticed by someone outside our confidence, Lady Sabbatine, if she allows this, this unchivalrous behavior to continue."

"Angelique, I asked you-"

"I don't suppose you've had a moment to read the letters our House receives from the Church? Horrid things, all of them, accusing us of 'heresy.' Heresy! Can you believe that? Hypocrites and dragon lovers, the lot of them, if what's in this book is true. I should very much like to march up to the Archbishop, in front of Halone and the congregations, and-"

Sabbatine put a gloved hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezed. "<Darling>."

The book snapped shut.

"<Breathe for a moment, won't you? Just breathe.>"

Angelique closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then out, sending clouds of steam up into the freezing evening air. It was cold tonight. Every night in Ishgard was bitterly cold.

"Our Minuet. She's expressed an interest in becoming a Temple Knight. Certain parties even heard that she aspires to be an Azure Dragoon, of all things." Lady Sabbatine smiled softly. "There's bound to be some good for the House in that, is there not?"

Angelique frowned and wrinkled her nose. This could be something to help the House, the first good thing to happen since their arrival in Coerthas. "Maybe. I'll need time to look into the application process, who to make good friends with. If she *does* become a knight, the house would have an argument for legitimacy, for existing. A living guard against the Church, so that you might continue whatever it is you're doing with that stone of yours."

"Perfectly good research." The jet black stone, tucked away in a hidden pocket of Sabbatine's armor, pressed hard against the elezen's breast. Its etchings were like red hot fingers digging into her skin. Truly an occult artifact, were the Church to find it.

"Pray, continue your reading. Don't mind my idle musings," Sabbatine said with a smile.

"As you wish, my Lady."

---

(Credit goes to @saesama for helping to make this screenshot happen!)

[justicewinged]

"You don't need to lecture me on what happened, Renzus. You don't need to tell me the injustices of my people, my country, or the Mageseekers. You know my opinion and you know just as well how much I disagree with their practices."

The petricite here is intense, more intense than it is in the rest of the city, a soft ringing in her ears but little more. In the city's plazas and buildings, she doesn't feel nearly so trapped. Perhaps once, she might have told him how he wasn't alone in the way it hurt, because this visit will give her a headache for hours thereafter. Perhaps once, he'd told her there's more magic in Demacian citizens than they'd ever really known, and she'd agreed, but this situation was beyond her, and plucks at rage in her heart in a discordant tune.

She reaches to her belt and pulls out the keys to grant her entry to his cell, presses inside, and locks it behind her.

The closeness immediately allows her a vent for that simmering anger to show. She shoves him away from from the bars with a gentle strike to the very shoulder she'd injured in the wake of his murders, not knowing if the betrayal of hurting him once would hurt more or the injury itself. The petricite slows his healing, makes him weaker; she recognizes this. Then, using this same leverage, she pushes him to the ground, and far more reminiscent of all the times she'd saved his life before, she checks every wound on his body, careful and silent. It takes a long moment before she speaks again, and as she does, she's applying a stinging poultice to the smaller wounds which remain, something she'd very much done before to speed healing and ward off infection in the field.

"You know, I trusted you. I trusted you to not interfere, to not meddle in affairs like this." Venom laces her tone. "I thought you agreed: Sylas's uprising is not the right path. I thought you'd separated yourself from your Noxian heritage."

The ranger-knight leans in, holding a dangerous gleam in her golden hazel eyes. "I thought you above Noxian justice, Renzus. I thought you were to remain impartial. Part and parcel of that is letting things fucking happen. Yes. You were supposed to do nothing! You were supposed to report that back to me. Their oversight can't be properly punished now, and things will only get worse! How do you not see that whether you killed with blade or magic matters not? When you're brought before our tribunal, your actions literally reflect on all of your kind."

She doesn't normally talk like that. The way those words slipped from her lips brings her pause, and she retreats the slightest bit, a furrow in her brow only intensifying the sharpness in her gaze. Her tone softens, if only slightly. "I could have used this to show the Mageseekers have been going after innocents. I could have used this to make things better, but now I have to worry about ensuring you won't be literally executed for this.

"Do you have a death wish? Because this display is showing me you do."

❛ their blood is on your hands. ❜

It was hard to keep his thoughts straight, when so surrounded by petricite, but if anything, it was hardly the worst torture that Renzus had to endure. Petricite, for all its fearsome reputation, could be summed up by the First Crow as mere discomfort, an annoyance that clawed at his senses, a buzzing that could be endured, albeit not ignored. Mageslayer poisons peddled by chemists in Zaun were far worse, by his reckoning, turning a mage's abilities in on themselves in a far more painful manner, and Renzus had survived those.

Looked up at Quinn through the bars, his expression haggard, but his grey eyes defiant shards of cold granite.

"She couldn't have been older than fifteen." The First Crow began, recounting the events that led up to his capture. "She wasn't even a mage. She didn't have the spark. A simple farmgirl, who'd grown an interest in learning about the arcane, and wanted a few books to study."

"A conclave of mageseekers tracked her down, pronounced her a criminal mage, and her family marked as collaborators. When the farmers protested, they were put to the sword, and their home burned to cinders with their corpses in it." Renzus recounted through gritted teeth, rising from his seated position.

"I came too late to do anything other than let her scream burn itself into my mind." He put his hands against the bars, feeling the petricite burning into his nerves. "Is this Demacian justice, Quinn? Is that kind of despair and anguish really what your nation is built on? I refuse to believe that, Quinn, but it's quite hard to ignore evidence to the contrary."

It was atop the bodies of those twenty mageseekers that Quinn and the Ranger-Knights had found him. He hadn't even used magic to kill them; he refused to prove them right about the supposed evil that magic was responsible for. Renzus had gone through each man with a cold steel blade, or when that dulled or broke, his bare hands. The wounds on his form from the fight were still fresh, bandages crossing over his chest and arms.

"I could have washed my hands of all this, Quinn. Watched your nation burn in a fire of its own making, and tend to the rest of the world. But I didn't. I want as much as you do for Demacia to become a paragon of righteousness again. I'm doing everything in my power to help you. But your people are making it increasingly difficult to do so."

@justicewinged