League of Legends 1. Chapter 1: Discovery

_"Only time and the running of water shapes the stones at the bottom of a river."_

Nearly two years has thus passed.

_Two long years._

Jarvan stood tall, looking out over the vast deserts of Shurima. His men had bedded down for the evening, Jarvan Lightshield IV taking his customary first watch. He had long ago learned a great appreciation for the cold and refreshing night air, using the time alone to think. He just let his mind roam, wandering where it pleased not bothering to reel it back in less something undesirable came calling to he and his men's camp.

He had been struggling with his feelings about himself and his position for every day of the two years he had been searching the vastness of Valoran. What he was exactly searching for? Well, he hadn't found it yet, but he intended to keep searching until he did find it. He had long ago left behind the feelings that tied him to Demacia. He only let himself worry about himself and his men now. He tore his eyes from the vastness of the starry night sky to look his men over. Of the twelve he had chosen to accompany him on his journey of self discovery, only 8 remained. They lay around the smoldering remains of their cooking fire, each one sleeping silently. The day had been just a rough as each day before hand. The men greeted sleep each evening as if it were a new bride and they had just returned from a long campaign against the Noxians.

_The Noxians..._

Jarvan scowled, his anger flaring at the thought of that bastard, Jericho Swain. The crotchety old man was a tactical genius and a maniacal bastard to boot. Even before he had journeyed to the war front with his father, King Jarvan Lightsheild III, he had heard nightmarish tales from the maids who had attended to him as a boy. He had aspired to fight and defeat the famed tactician one day, believing the stories to be tales and that there was no way one man could be so cunning and dangerous. As he had grown, he had approached each day with gusto, striving to be the best. The fastest, the strongest, the first. He had often been so, but his best friend had always been there at his side. Garen Crownguard was his best friend growing up, and the two were inseparable. Everywhere Jarvan IV went, Garen was right there with him.

When given the chance to finally challenge the famed Noxian tactician, Jarvan had charged at the task with more than just gusto. Stupid and blind pigheadedness had led him to charge straight into an ambush, the horror stories of Jericho Swain only starting there. After most of his company had been slain around him, Jarvan was thrown in shackles and forced to watch as the few survivors of his company was executed before his eyes, one by one. When it came time for Jarvan IV to be executed himself, he had accepted his fate with the grim realization that he was only a shadow of his father searching for glory with blind ambition leading the charge in his efforts. Jericho Swain had stood over him, his crimson eyes staring maliciously back at him over his scarf. He had asked Jarvan if he had any last words and Jarvan had only stared back him for a few seconds. As if to smack those gloating eyes that stared at him, Jarvan only offered him one thing.

"_Sure... you may kill me...go aheadmake a martyr of me... but my beliefs...my ideas...they hold the strength of a thousand... There is only one truth, and you will find it at the point of my lance."_ With that he had bowed his head to Urgot, the Headsman's Pride, and the butcher of Noxus. Even that blundering oaf of a butcher couldn't miss a target like that. As Jarvan closed his eyes, accepting his fate and willing the images of Swain's face from his mind, he waited for the blow that would end him finally, his years of fighting and following in his father footsteps only leading him in circles, chasing his tail like a stray puppy.

His mind thought of his family and friends, their faces flashing through his mind.

But it never came.

As the blade came down, a ruckus erupted from the rear of the formation that Swain had erected to keep his prize from escaping while he dealt with them in his own method of choice. What he hadn't expected was the timely intrusion of The Dauntless Vanguard, captained by Garen Crownguard himself. The formation, collectively eyeing the prince of Demacia and eagerly awaiting his head to fall, had made a fatal mistake in leaving a small section of their flank exposed. Taking advantage of this, Garen and his force had bore down upon them, ripping Swain's Battalion asunder and driving a pincer attack straight through the enemy lines. He drove his forces hard and fast straight into the heart of Swain forces, where Garen immediately launched himself upwards, bring his sword down in a hammer blow on the High Noxian Executioner. As the already piece-meal man fell to pieces, Garen struck the binding chains that kept Jarvan bound and tossed him his lance. Jarvan, reeling in surprise, was swept away by Garen and the Vanguard, as they made a hasty retreat while the Noxian forces tried to make sense of what had just happened. Unable to pursue, they had to quickly reform their ranks and attempt to see to the felled Noxian executioner.

Back in the safety of Garen's Vanguard, Jarvan looked back on himself and how foolish he had been, now having to accept the shame of his foolishness. He had lost his entire company and he had nearly lost his life by his own bravado driven judgment. As the mixture of emotions ran through him, gratitude, sadness, surprise... he came to the realization that he was a failure in everyone's eyes. Everything he thought he had achieved in life had just as easily been accomplished by his long time companion. Even in his resigned state expecting death, Garen had been there. He had successfully done what Jarvan had tried and failed at: dealing a blow to Swain's pride.

Feelings of disgust and resentment had clouded Jarvan's mind over the next few months as he tried to deal with his clouded mentality. He could never seem to escape Garen's shadow and he came to hate Garen and he especially came to hate himself for it. One evening Jarvan decided that he alone would have to prove himself and he would do so on his own terms. Under the veil of night, Jarvan gathered the twelve remaining members of his shattered company and he asked each one if they would accompany him on a journey to find himself. With twelve of his remaining men in tow, he set out through the northern rends of Valoran, battling with bandits, outlaws and the horrendous monsters that were found throughout the land.

It had been easy at first, only having to deal with small time bandits and petty criminals. With much disgust, Jarvan continued to chop them down, only doing so because it gave him something to do. He had journeyed as far north as the Freljords and as far east as Noxus itself. He had fought with many a champion, each boasting their strength, but soon, Jarvan grew tired of these petty foes. He couldn't stand the slaughter of weak monsters and the many boastful men who challenged him over and over.

Three months having past, Jarvan and his men were growing tired of their current conquests. They had journeyed into the small, sleepy mining town of Kalamanda, north of the Mogron Pass. There, they had heard of the tales of what lay below the Great Barrier. An old prospector had crowded one of the many small tables at the back of the pub they were eating at. He overheard their griping and offered to tell them a tale of the mysteries that lay below the Great Barrier. He told stories of mighty beasts that had been found to roam the plains and devoured even great men like they were nothing more than breakfast. With the prospect of such a challenge before him, Jarvan and his men had immediately set out, bound for the Great Barrier.

Their excitement had given them swift feet and it wasn't long before they had arrived at the Gap of Mogron. A mighty desert stretched out before them, with ruined stone pillars and buildings reaching out from under the sand like sharks in the sea. In the far off distance, a massive storm swirled above the sands, purple lightning arcing down upon the ground like the sinewy fingers of a malevolent god toying with his creations below. As they peered out into the vastness of the Shurima desert, a sound had echoed out from the mountains above them. Swooping down from the cliffs like a massive bird of prey, a mighty dragon had descended upon them like a god descending from heaven to deliver his judgment upon them.

With his glistening talons extended, he descended upon them, crashing into the formation of thirteen. The dragon had spewed flames, catching Reynolds, Jarvan's sergeant, by surprise. The man was a black outline against the multi-thousand degree heat for only a few seconds before he disintegrated to nothing. As the dragon beat its enormous wings, letting the stream of fire die away, only dust and steam from the vaporized man was left. His armor clattered away on the hard stone, as two more of his men were lifted away in the dragon's talons. One was cast against the jagged rocks at the base of the cliffs, falling into them from several hundred feet. The sound of his impact was sickening and carried all too well on the empty wind of the Shurima desert. Jarvan watched in horror as the other was lifted away into the stone jungle of the jagged cliffs of the Great Barrier, His screams of terror echoing around them like a mad man taunting them to go on.

They had only passed through the great barrier and Jarvan had already lost three men. His blind ambition had yet again struck its toll like the bell of a church ringing its mourning tone for the dead and the gone. As his men struggled to their feet, Jarvan could only roll onto his back and stare into the sky, wondering just what the gods had against him. He could only laugh at the irony of it all. A boy born into nobility, asking god why he was so cruel. If he wished, Jarvan could return to his home with nary a consequence. He would eventually inherit the throne regardless, but he would never be able to deal with himself if he did. Even if everyone forgot about his foolishness, he would never be able to forget his own mistakes. As he struggled to his feet, he met the eyes of each and every one of his troupe.

"I won't promise that you'll return from this journey..." He said, with solemn eyes and a determined heart,"...and I can't promise that I'll return, but I won't force any man to accompany me into this hell. Only the foolish, the damned, and the determined have journeyed beyond this point." He paused, snorting at the irony. "At this point, I believe I am a mix of all three. I'm going though, and if you wish to follow me, then pick yourself up and fall in. I'm not going to fall victim to my own mind, and I refuse to fall victim to this world." With that, Jarvan turned and stepped forth through the breach. As he stepped out into the desert a mighty gust of wind struck him, nearly bowling him over. As he tumbled over, he was caught by the hands of his Lieutenant, Isaacs, one firmly grasping his arm, the other white knuckled on the collar of his breast plate.

"We're right behind you, sir." The Lieutenant said firmly, a hard but determined smile on his face. The remainder of his men stood there behind him, their weapons at their sides, each nodding at the prince, each ready to face the danger with their swords held high and their spirits held higher.

Jarvan looked out over the wastes with satisfaction. Two years and he had only lost four men. He was slowly returning to the great barrier, slowly drifting home. He had found his fears and he had challenged them and won. He and his men had journeyed across the wastes below the Great Barrier, Shurima, Fyrone Flats, Kumungu and the Plague jungles. During his times exploring the vast tracts of land that made up the southern half of Valoran, he had met many a character. He had sparred with many different champions of the League, each suggesting he make his way there and search for more answers there. Jarvan had initially rejected the idea of joining the league, but now, he was becoming more and more interested in the group that was known as the League of Legends. He intended to join it as soon as he returned home.

Jarvan lay back against the cool stone simply drinking in the cool night air. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering what awaited him as when he returned home to Demacia. The image of the mighty dragon who had killed three of his men the first day he had journeyed into Shurima came to his mind briefly. His eyes shot open, the lust for the blood of that draconian bastard flaring in his veins. That dragon remained as one of the few challenges he had been unable to conquer. As he let his mind wander, the sound of a dragon in pain echoes throughout the relatively peaceful night.

The sound was disturbing, one he had never heard before, like the dragon was sad as well as hurt. Its cries were ear shattering, ringing through the night with such a frequency as though it could nearly cut through your very being. Jarvan peered out through the night, searching for the source of the sound, trying to identify the direction the baying was coming from. Throughout the night, the sound continued to echo through the sky, before it finally died out just before dawn.

"You think it finally died?" Isaacs asked tentatively. He and the rest of the men had long risen from their bedding and were sitting around the fire, clutching their weapons. With everything they had seen in the past few months, it would take much to shake his men's nerves. The sounds that had been echoing through the night were haunting and disturbing. They were hollow and longing, as if the dragon was being tortured by its own mind. The beast had been struggling to hold onto every inch of its life, struggling against everything.

"If it hasn't I intend to put the poor beast out of its misery." Jarvan said hollowly. The sounds had reminded him of the mental scars that he had come to carry, when he had been resigned to his death long ago. Unlike him though, this monster had been desperately trying to survive. It was fighting death as best it could though the tone was as if it had been begging whatever bastard gods it prayed to for life. The sound of the dragon was etched in his mind and it was something he would not long forget. With his men long disturbed by the gut wrenching sound, Jarvan decided to set out early in the general direction of the sound.

As he and his men ascended the rocky cliff, the sounds of a young woman crying began to echo through the wind that pounded the cliff faces. With only a cursory glance and a nod from his lieutenant, Jarvan readied his weapon and quickened his pace. As he crested the stone monolith, what he found surprised him. As he brought his lance to bear, his eyes came upon a young girl with dirty reddish hair who was weeping over the body of the dragon, drying blood reaching out across the monolith like the web of a spider. As he took a cautious step forward she turned on him, bearing her teeth, going down on all fours and growling at him. She was defending the dragon's corpse. It took Jarvan only seconds to realize that this was no ordinary girl. She had violet eyes that burned with a passionate fire and long hair that swirled upwards around her as she prepared to pounce. Her hand turned into that of a dragon as she began forward.

Jarvan tossed his lance to the side as she leapt at him, her body turning to the blue and scaly skin of a young dragon. Her wings were shredded, but she still charged for Jarvan's throat as she struggled along the ground, the nature of flight not coming. He braced himself, grabbing her around the neck as she charged, tumbling backwards, towards the edge of the stone monolith. As she thrashed, her form grown to nearly twice his size, Jarvan struggled to control her. He grasped her snout and reached around her neck, heaving with all of his might as he clasped his legs around her body, struggling to hold on. She tossed her head from side to side and he began to apply pressure to her windpipe. Sensing what he was doing she tossed her head against the ground, dislodging his grasp. He collapsed on the ground, winded by the impact. As he struggled to his feet, the half-dragon squabbled to her feet, standing back and eyeing Jarvan tepidly. He had only just clambered to his feet when the dragon came again, charging at him ferociously.

Calling on his lineage, he summoned his light shield, a barrier of pure light forming between himself and the dragon. She crashed into it, and using the moment that she was stunned, Jarvan leapt forth and grappled with the small dragon again. He wrapped an arm around her neck again and drove her snout down upon his arm, applying pressure. She struggled again, trying to shake his grasp loose, but soon it fell docile, the lack of air causing her to black out. As the creature finally collapsed, Jarvan hit the ground again, this time, next to a young woman, hardly as tall as his shoulder. She lay quietly upon the ground, her chest heaving as she sucked air into her lungs. Jarvan rolled onto his back, gasping for breath, his heart racing. The young half-dragoness was silent, her naked form lying silently on the ground next to him. He looked her over, her pale face framed by the dirty red hair. Dark circles were under her eyes, her faced bruised and dirty, teary streaks across her cheeks. Jarvan sat up, looking up at the sky and wondering what had possessed him to do something so foolish. His men rushed forth, moving to her still form with binding ready. He waved them away though, searching for his voice. He was hoarse, his throat dry from the fear and the effort that had consumed his heart while he had struggled with the half-dragoness.

With looks of surprise on their faces as his men looked on, Prince Jarvan drew a blanket and wrapped the young half-dragoness in it, doing his best to preserve her modesty. She had a pretty face, which looked almost serene in the early morning light. Jarvan ordered his men to stand guard and to notify him when she awoke, and to not take any action against her other than keeping her here. The men went about their morning, preparing a small cook fire and doing their best to not discuss the girl with hushed tones. Despite the chatter, Jarvan's mind was muddled with confusion and he needed time to think. He perched himself on the edge of the cliff, his mind a jumble as he began to sort out his thoughts. His body had acted without orders, subduing the dragoness, not killing her. The image of her standing over the dead Dragon, wearing nothing but the caked on blood and dirt hung in his mind.

This young half-dragoness... just who was she?


	2. Chapter 2: Introductions

Jarvan pondered the shifting sands of the Shurima desert with trepidation, his mind racing in circles. His feelings were like the sands of the desert, constantly shifting and eternally moving.

"_Your legacy shall drift away, blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert." _

The words were stuck in his head, the advice he had been given striking him as oddly painful and true. The more he thought about it, the less he seemed to care about his so called 'legacy' and more about the actions that defined him. When Jarvan had originally met the Curator of the Sands, he wasn't exactly how to approach the scholarly creature. He easily stood two or three feet taller than Jarvan, who was taller than average at six foot six. The dog headed librarian was anything but ferocious though, more at home among his books and the ruins of the Shurima desert than the League of Legends. Jarvan initially raised his lance in defense, his search leading him into the desert. However, as he charged the beast with the glowing eyes and the massive staff, he felt himself slow, his body growing weak and brittle. He slowed to almost nothing, falling to his knees in exhaustion. The Anubis watched him for a few seconds, his ears twitching as Jarvan's men stirred restlessly behind them as the Anubis brought his staff close to the neck of their prince.

"What brings you to these hallowed grounds with such malicious intent?" His voice rang out around them, rumbling with a deafening tone, echoing through the ruins.

"I've come to challenge you!" Jarvan struggled to shout, his voice hoarse and his chest heaving in exhaustion.

"Do not try my patience." His voice rang out again, his temper obviously growing short. "You now stand where angels fear to tread."

"I fear no man!" Jarvan tried to shout, his voice growing smaller and smaller, getting stuck in his throat.

_"Your soul will be measured." _He bellowed, his height nearly tripling, a raging sandstorm erupting below his feet. Stones and rubble were lifted into the air, swirling faster and faster, threatening to tear the very ground out from under their feet. Jarvan watched as his staff came down towards his head. He froze, his body bracing for the blow that would surely crush his skull. Swain's face loomed in front of his eyes, taunting his once more.

Once again... the blow never came. The curator simply stood there, eyeing Jarvan curiously.

"You need not kneel before me, merely treat me with the respect you would your average man." the spoke serenely, the echo gone. Jarvan stood up slowly, reconsidering the Anubis. "Stay your blade young one." Jarvan nodded slowly, throwing his lance over his shoulder. In the near week that Jarvan and his men had been with Nasus, Jarvan had learned much, but Nasus continued to speak in riddles for much of the break from their fighting and journeying. There was something else that he had been told by the rather enigmatic creature during their long conversations together though, sticking in Jarvan's memory.

_"When all is said done, your legacy is only a reason for people to remember you when you have passed on. Define yourself by your actions, not by your achievements." _

Jarvan had been struggling to understand exactly what the Curator of the Sands had meant when he had spoken those words at their departure. There were times that he often reconsidered the words, trying to discern the difference between actions and achievements.

_Actions and achievements are the same thing... are they not?_

Jarvan frowned, debating over it for the hundredth time.

* * *

"PRINCE!" Jarvan was torn from his recollection and meditation. He looked around, expecting an attack but he was only met with the sight of his men crowded around a small cook fire as they prepared supper, a pot simmering over the weak flames. They had huddled down in one corner of the bowl like depression that the stone monolith consisted of. There were steps down into the basin, a natural spring which trickled water, and a massive stone overhang that sheltered much of the plateau from the sun and the elements. The dragoness lay beside the dead dragon atop the overhang, another set of winding steps leading up atop of it. From opposite the overhand there was a step stone stair case the wound down the monolith towards the mountains that made up the Great Barrier. There were pillars in various states of ruin along the lip, signifying this monolith's roll as an ancient watch tower from long ago.

He wondered where they had gotten the wood but dismissed it, the smell wafting over and making him realize he was ravenous. He looked into the sky, the sun beginning to set, a flock of ravens circling overhead. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he pulled himself to his feet, his lance clinking against the bones that dotted and decorated his armor. He turned, putting his back to the sun and examining the small plateau. On one side, the body of the dragon lying rotting and still, on the other the body of the young dragoness stirring beside him.

Jarvan peered over his shoulder and checked the sun. It was a blazing orange color, quickly becoming a deep and bloody crimson color as time swept by. It was an ominous omen for sure, but many a sun had been just as foreboding and nothing had come of it. A youngish short blonde haired man came striding up the stone steps.

"The she-dragon stirs, sire." Forsythe said, leaning in, his voice soft as if he feared disturbing her. As one of the youngest members of the group at 23, Forsythe was still a seasoned veteran of combat. He had served several tours of duty directly under Jarvan's command and on multiple occasions he had proven himself to be an ingenious and tenacious fighter, often wading into the worst situations to stand at the Prince's side. Jarvan could read Forsythe's uneasiness, his hand resting on his sword, his other hand clenched into a fist at his side. Underneath his dirty blonde mop of hair, Jarvan could see the ever so small crease in his brow. Jarvan put a hand on his shoulder nodding silently. The gesture may not have looked like much to most, but it easily put all of the men at ease for now.

"Don't worry." Jarvan said, nodding. Forsythe nodded in return, the doubt in his face evaporating.

"Sir." Forsythe said, letting out a breath of air he seemed to have been unconsciously holding. Jarvan smiled weakly. To be honest, he didn't even know what he was doing or what he planned on doing with the young dragoness. He turned and watched her for a few seconds, her shoulders heaving with the deep breathing of sleep. She was stirring though, her hands going to the blanket, pulling it over herself as she slept.

The dirty reddish hair flopped about a bit, tossing and turning beneath the rough woolen blanket. Jarvan felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Despite her rather ragged exterior, the girl had a striking and rather inhuman beauty about her, beneath all of the grime and blackened dragon blood. Jarvan watched her, quietly contemplating the pale skin and the fiery red hair, wondering exactly why he had decided to only subdue her rather than kill her.

In two years, Jarvan had slain bandit lords, dragons, stone golems, berserkers, Lizard Elders, griffons, trolls, and every sort of mythical beast you could imagine, many with ease. Never once had he stayed his blade in the face of a vicious enemy, but for this young woman, who had been crying over the body of a dragon… Jarvan had thrown his weapon aside and dove head first at her, doing all he could to subdue her. He took a step in the opposite direction, turning back to the cliff and looking out over the vastness of the desert.

There had been rumors of a half-dragoness floating around the barrier towns, carried on the words and whispers of those who still believed the dragons to exist in the wild, outside of the control of the burgeoning League of Legends. Dragons were extremely elusive creatures who preferred the company of their mates or solitude to being around other races that they considered 'inferior' to themselves. They often retreated to the farthest reaches of the southern half of Valoran, taking advantage of the heat and desolate terrain. There were those that journeyed closer to civilization though. Often times they were the target of big game hunters and military parties, their aggressive territorial nature impeding the expansion of the nation states that had formed, each vying for more territory than the other. With such rapid expansionism, dragons had often been driven from their homes and cast out into the wilds to start a new.

There were ..._exceptions_ though.

"Why have you come here?" Jarvan spun, coming face to face with the young woman at the last second before she bowled him over. Jarvan rolled head over heels, ending up on his back, staring upwards into the sky. The Dragoness was poised on all fours, ready to launch herself at Jarvan again. Jarvan rolled onto his stomach after a few seconds and pushed himself to his feet. Several of the men ran up, the look of surprise on their faces quite clear as they had dropped everything they were doing and sprinted to stand at their Prince's side.

"Stay back sire!" One of the men began to say, but Jarvan cut him off as he approached the young woman slowly. One of his men tried to hand him his lance, but Jarvan merely pushed it away. He tossed his helmet to the side and unclipped his shoulder pauldrons, the heavily armored and horn spiked armor pieces falling away. Forsythe charged forward, his sword brandished. He raised it over his head and began to bring it down, but the dragoness simply swatted him aside. He crashed into the stone wall, ending up crumpled up on the ground. She loomed over him, his sword held between them as he struggled to regain his footing. She grabbed it from him, a rather disgruntled look on her face, bent the blade into a ninety degree angle and tossed it aside. She raised her hand up, flames flickering along her flattened hand.

Jarvan sprinted and dove, cannonballing into the dragoness and knocking her away, the two of them grappling through the air. Jarvan crashed down on top of her, restraining her as best her could. She managed to get her legs to her chest though, and was able to kick Jarvan backwards. He skidded backwards on his back, ending up at the feet of his men. They hauled him to his feet and stood at arms, several of their personal weapons drawn. Forsythe groaned as he pulled himself to sit up, groping his boot for his knife.

"Stupid bit…-" He started to gripe, only to be cut off as Jarvan placed his hand over the young soldiers chest, silencing him immediately. He glanced at Forsythe briefly, only shaking his head from side to side. Jarvan stepped forward, pulling a length of rope from his belt and holding it at his side.

"Why have you come here?" she hissed again, her hair cascading around her face. Her expression was angry and bore the signs of a deep seated grudge against Jarvan and his men.

"Calm down," Jarvan said, trying to placate the young half dragoness, handing the rope over to one of his men. "We only wish to talk." He took a step forward, his palms raised to her to show that he was unarmed and meant no harm to her. She looked almost surprised at the gesture, but as he took a second step towards her, she took her own step back, a foreign look upon her face. It was only there for a split second, but Jarvan read the expression and slight change in posture in an instant.

_Fear. She was afraid._

Jarvan took another step forward and, matching him, the dragoness took another step back. Her foot bumped into the wall. Fight or flight and there was no longer anywhere to retreat to. Something must have triggered in her mind because at that, the anger on her face returned and she launched herself through the air, her hands aimed straight at Jarvan's neck.

He stepped into the jump and brought his shoulder up hard, right into her stomach. Her claw like fingernails raked over his cheek though, leaving a set of deep gashes on his cheek. She scrabbled on his shoulder, as he spun and brought her down across his body to land roughly on his knee. He had instinctively brought his elbow up to crush her skull and had begun to bring it down to finish her, but he froze as the anger returned to fear for another instant. Taking advantage of his second of hesitation, she twisted and yanked his leg out from under him, sending him sprawling onto the ground. She rolled onto his chest and brought her hand up, plunging her flattened hand straight at his eye. He jerked his head to the side, her hand striking the stone with a sickening sound that was a mix of shattering bone and rock. She froze, the pain welling in her eyes. Jarvan tossed her aside and rolled on top of her, pinning one arm beneath her back. He froze, staring into her angry face, into her almost magenta colored eyes. Through the anger, he could see the fear, but behind that fear there was a dim fire. It wasn't aimed at him, but skyward, as if she was cursing her fate and challenging the heavens.

He paused, but kept her pinned. With a nod of his head, he was tossed the rope. Keeping her securely pinned, Jarvan tossed her onto her stomach and trussed her hand and then her legs. She writhed against the bindings for a few seconds, but they were too tight and she was obviously too famished to actually fight against Jarvan's mass. Satisfied she wouldn't be able to escape, Jarvan unpinned her and pulled himself off of her. He sat her up against the wall and stood up, dusting himself off. He picked the blanket up from where she had left it and shook it off, wrapping it around the Dragoness. Despite the pain in her hand and anger on her face, the Dragoness blushed as Jarvan wrapped her up.

"Take a while and calm yourself young one." He said, leaving her in the shade of the rock and turning away. He picked his armor up off of the ground and dusted it off, taking a few seconds to examine all of the scars in the metal and the little bits of monster he had adorned it with, building up to what it was today. He stepped away and left her.

* * *

The Dragoness cocked her head to the side reconsidering the man as he walked away. He had broad shoulders and scaly armor covered in dragon scales, talons of great creatures, and other bits and pieces of paraphernalia from other parts of Valoran.

Her father had once told her that the humans were a brilliant but aggressive species, making their way across the world, carving a deep scar through the land wherever they went. All you had to do was look around and you could see the ruins of human aggression that littered the land. Her father had told her of the rune wars, the result of a deep seated hatred between humans for petty reasons that most of the higher evolved creatures would have never succumbed to. It had been a disastrous conflict that would have ended the entire world had they not come to terms with what they were actually doing to the environment. Soon afterwards they had forcefully found a peace between themselves and forged a shaky alliance to deal with the effects that was befalling the world.

Her father had watched it in its entirety, recording and archiving the events so that he could one day pass them on to the humans in an effort to preserve the world's health. He had been greeted with some respect by the humans for it, but he was also treated as a traitor by the dragons and cast out. He was not welcome among the humans though, still viewed as the beast that he was, not as the scholar he acted as. Thus he had been outcast from all society he could have actually related to and thus exiled himself to the Barrier lands where he could watch over both the humans and the dragons that roamed the southern wastelands. He had found a home in an abandoned watch tower, a testament to the rune wars that erupted from the Barrier Mountains like a massive scar.

Over the hundreds of years he stood citadel to the pass through the Barrier Mountains, watching over the humans and other creatures that came and went. The dragoness had never been able to coax the reasoning from her father but it was during this time that he met a human woman and bedded her. It was from that human woman that the Dragoness was born. Eventually though, she had been abandoned by her mother at the foot of the citadel after which the woman fled, and Faust never heard from her again. He had raised the young girl by himself, teaching her to survive, to fight, and to learn above all else. She would have to adapt to survive in the world, and to do so she would have to be smart. Despite her animalistic instincts and unfound aggression, the young dragoness had come to find that her curiosity was unending, and her father was glad to do his best to teach her everything that he knew.

However, there came a time when their peaceful and happy lives would have to end. Now her father was dead. The dragoness lay her head back, thinking of the rugged face of her father, a deep gash over one eye, but a smile that could melt even the coldest heart. The sadness came rushing back, leaving her shoulders shaking and the feeling of guilt in her gut.

* * *

The men had been mostly quiet, only the small stirrings of conversation echoing through the group occasionally. The food had been fixed and passed around. Jarvan had been silent though, only staring at the stew with empty eyes.

His mind was heavy with the thoughts of the young dragoness' eyes haunting him. He wondered if that was how he felt when he had accepted his death. The image of Swain's gloating face floated before him, haunting him endlessly. He had always regretted that failure, his own stupid judgment leading him nearly to his death and leading most of his men to their own deaths. It was something he regretted every day, a move that he couldn't atone for and something that would mar his history till the day that he died. There were over a hundred graves that had been filled because of him alone, many of his closest friends laying six feet underground because of it. He stood up with the shallow bowl of stew in hand and to the curious glances of his men, he made his way over to the dragoness.

"Sire?" Argyle muttered, a small frown forming on his lips.

"You're going to feed that beast?" Isaacs asked, tight lipped. Forsythe took several steps to follow him, but Jarvan cut him off.

"Leave us." Jarvan spoke quietly. "And stay your tongue." Forsythe matched his gaze for a few seconds, trying to gauge just how serious Jarvan was. After a few seconds he nodded, turning, and with a quick glance at his blade and a disgruntled shake of his head, he left Jarvan and the dragoness under the outcropping at the edge of the monolith. Jarvan kneeled before her.

"My apologies…" He said slowly, "Are you hungry?" Jarvan coughed, turning his head to the side and ignoring the fact that sitting there, with only the rough blanket that barely covered what Jarvan couldn't see. Her pale skin shone in the ruddy red sunlight that reflected off the dull stone of the monolith, her red hair framing her pretty face. Jarvan avoided gazing on her body though, matching her gaze. They stayed there, their gazes locked. Moments passed, the young dragoness finally diverting her eyes. She turned and looked to the dragon, remaining silent.

"Why have you come here?" She asked for the third time, her voice softer, staring into the sun. "What do you want? Why did you spare me?" She turned back to the corpse of the dragon. Jarvan sighed, pulling his helmet off. He ran his hand through his hair, setting the food aside and the helmet next to it. She only glanced at the food briefly, but there was an audible growl from her stomach as she looked away, her face blushed in embarrassment. Jarvan nodded knowingly and pulled the knife from his boot. Upon seeing the shining blade, the dragoness pressed herself against the wall, trying to put distance between herself and the blade. Jarvan placed a hand out calmingly as she whimpered barely, her hand wrenched in an odd position due to the bindings. He grasped her uninjured hand carefully and cut the bindings. He sat down roughly, pulling a small bottle of water and a bandage from a pouch on his belt. He put the food at her side and gestured for her to eat it.

"My name is Jarvan Lightshield IV." He said, turning to look at the dragon briefly, pulling her hand closer to look at it in the light. She seemed incredibly docile for a dragoness, but Jarvan wasn't about to provoke her. He tended to the injured hand as gently as he could, washing the dirt from her bloodied knuckles and bracing and wrapping her hand. She shifted against the wall, trying to hide her discomfort and the pain in her hand. "If you're hungry, please, eat."

"But..." She said softly, never taking her eye from the blade that sat at his side. "This is your food."

"You eat it, for I am not hungry right now." He said quietly, wrapping the bandage over, dissatisfied at the first wrapping. She tentatively picked up the bowl and wincing against his rather crude first aid, and slowly began to eat. She chewed on the leather meat and potatoes quietly as he examined the other cuts on her arms and face. Her body was frail and looked weak from a lack of nourishment over the past few days.

"I am merely a man searching for atonement and reason." He said slowly. He knew that the bits of bone and fang on his arm said otherwise, but he didn't need to give her reason to doubt him. He was trying to choose his words carefully. After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally decided to ask a question he was afraid he knew the answer to. "Was he close to you?"

"He was my father…" She spoke solemnly, looking to the ground, hiding her eyes with her long and unkempt hair.

"Faust." Jarvan said quietly, nodding knowingly. He looked to her for a reply, only getting a small nod as a confirmation.

"Yes… Faust." She spoke quietly, reverently, her voice hollow and cold. Jarvan could only nod once, his feelings mixed. He fumbled with his helmet awkwardly, the dragon horn tipped crown seemingly out of place as he looked over the corpse of a dead dragon, trying to comfort the beast's half-human daughter. The situation was irony at its finest. Here he was conversing with a scantily clad, and extremely attractive half-dragon, a beast so vicious that she could rip his head clean off if she so desired. Jarvan had set out to slay beasts like her and here he was talking to her, comforting her as best he could, admiring her beauty. Jarvan mentally struck himself, putting her appearance aside. He wanted to ask questions about everything, his curiosity growing the more he stood there. "It's Shyvana."

"Shy…vana?" Jarvan repeated

"Yes, My name. It means 'Of the Dragon's blood' in draconian." She said, avoiding eye contact still, setting the empty bowl aside. Jarvan offered her the animal skin water bottle. She accepted it and lifted it up, draining it in a single go. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth again, then shut it, her jaw working as she thought carefully how to phrase her next thoughts. "My father gave me that name. He told me to bear it with pride, for I represented the best of both the humans and the Dragons." Her voice was a mix of emotions, none of which Jarvan was good at reading. He had never been close with any dragons, and he had always been too busy with his duties to deal with women on any level of intimacy other than that of an officer and a soldier.

Luxanna Crownguard had once told him that he was thicker than average. Young, stupid and full of nothing but martial idiocy and foolish ideals. Jarvan had taken it to mean something completely different, but his years of roaming the planes of southern Valoran had given him much in the way of time to reflect upon his life. The sad thing was that Jarvan _was_ thick headed. Looking back he had realized just how often he had missed his father's overarching messages, ignoring the politics and reasoning for the thrill of combat and the sheer hatred of the Noxians that had been very nearly shoved upon him every night and day. Looking back now, he hadn't learned nearly as much as he should have, could have or wanted to, but if there was anything that he had learned, it was to not judge a book by its cover. He slowly reconsidered the young dragoness, who was probably inspecting him in a similar manner, just as much confusion clouding her mind as clouded his. She was much smarter than she let on, and she was also hiding whatever feelings she was feeling. Jarvan wanted to trust her for he pitied her, but he didn't know what to say or how to feel around her.

"So you're only a half dragon then… it is true." Jarvan said slowly, setting his helmet down. He unlatched his breast plate, putting it down beside the helmet.

"Yes, it is." Shyvana said weakly, an almost pitiful little smile crossing her face as the memories of her father began to swirl in her thoughts again.

_...The best of both the humans and the Dragons..._

The thought hung in her mind as she silently reconsidered the awkward Demacian who sat next to her, attending to the small wounds on her body.

_Jarvan Lightshield IV..._


	3. Chapter 3: Memories

Jarvan hadn't slept much that night.

He found himself staring at the stars for most of the evening, gazing into the darkened sky, his mind on his people and those he had left behind when he had journeyed out through Valoran. His mother and father had been his only real family, his grandfather having died and passed the throne to Jarvan Lightshield III, Prince Jarvan's father. But such a position hardly left much in the way of time to care for children and such petty things as the youth of kin. With unsettled issues hanging heavy on his heart, Jarvan had been thrust into the world of gladiator style combat training where he learned the art of war or he would die by his trainer's weapons.

His first real trainer had been one of his father's wards, a warrior from the east by the name of Xin Zhao. Jarvan would never be able to forget his first meeting with the dark haired Demacian warrior.

* * *

_It had been a brisk morning, fog still rolling about the lower gardens of the Demacian Palace. A young Jarvan, barely into his teens, had been rousted from is bed by his maid and hurried into some training clothes and then shoved out the door towards one of the many courtyards of the palace. _

"_Good morning, young master." The man bowed in his direction, only the creases at the corners of his eyes showing the truth of how old he was and how much he had seen. Jarvan had eyed him carefully. He had seen the man before, escorting his grandfather to and from the many meetings he attended throughout the days. He had never been introduced to the man, but if he was trusted by his grandfather and his father, then Jarvan had assumed that he as well could trust him._

"'_Ello…" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow high as he eyed the man curiously. "Who are you?"_

"_My name is Xin Zhao. At the request of your father, today we will begin your martial training." He spoke with an odd accent. It was not one Jarvan recognized from the many different diplomats he had observed in the king's court. "Here."_

_Jarvan was barely able to catch the cloth armor jacket before it hit him upside the head. He looked at it briefly before sliding it over his head and shrugging the loose garment over his chest. He looked about for lance that the man carried about with him. "Are we using lances?" _

_"A lance is a weapon for knights and those who wish to use the weapon for a reach advantage. It is good for open combat on the fields of battle, allowing massive strikes and a deep defensive gap between you and your opponents." The warrior said blatantly. "For a duel, you will rely on your cunning, your speed and your reactions to negotiate the battle before you. A long sword such as this one-" He tapped the training weapon at his hip, "gives you all that you will need for now."_

_Jarvan nodded silently and took the matching weapon from a small rack that had been set up on one side of the courtyard. Xin Zhao nodded as the prince strapped the belt around his waist._

_Draw your weapon." He pulled the sword from the sheath and looking at Xin, Jarvan fell back into what you could call a cat-stance. His sword was held vaguely in front of him, between himself and Xin. He sighed as he drew his sword, the metal humming along the mouth of the sheath. He raised the gleaming blade high and bowed in salute. "Let us begin."_

_"Again! Get on your feet!" Xin Zhao bellowed as the prince sat on the ground, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. He was bloody from small cuts and bruises and sweat was pouring down his face. They had been at it for hours. The Seneschal had taught Jarvan the basic steps of a fight... initial thrust, parry, counterthrust... lunging, foot work... he was covering all the bases. Yet Jarvan just wasn't fast enough._

_They say you can tell the skill of a swordsman when they first pick up the blade. Jarvan had been optimistic, hoping to tap into some unknown well of strength, but through hours of training, the young prince was still falling for the most basic tricks. He had heard many a tale of the swordsman of old; they were vigilant, swift and powerful. Jarvan was aggressive and reckless, but he didn't learn from his mistakes. He had recognized the little things that Xin would do, but with every lock of their blades, Jarvan would fall for the same tricks. He had a huge amount of fight left in him, despite his heaving chest. _

_Jarvan wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. He struggled to his feet and returned the Seneschal's salute and settled into a dueling stance, one foot forward, the other back, approximately shoulder length apart. He lunged, Xin letting him coming, stepping backwards nimbly, just letting the edge of his blade strike the prince's outstretched blade. Jarvan tried again, but put too much emphasis into the motion of his arm and was left off balance. Xin stepped inside the arc of the prince's sword and brought the pommel upwards into the Jarvan's gut, sending him flying. He landed on his back, grasping for breath._

_"Let us just be done with it." Xin said, turning. He had reacted instinctively caught off guard by the brazen manner in which Jarvan had come at him, not meaning to strike his king so hard. "You are a not a Lightshield, you are merely a boy."_

_"NO!" The prince gasped, using the scarred blade to pull himself to his feet. Xin Zhao frowned. What the Jarvan lacked in skill or swiftness, he made up for with sheer force of will and tenacity. "Again..." He could barely lift his sword to the salute. A cheer went up from around the courtyard. A large crowd of soldiers and officers, handmaidens and servants had formed, all watching their young prince fight valiantly, showing that he would never give up, despite the beating that the Seneschal was giving him. It was a testament to his strength and will power._

_"Young Master..." Xin has begun to say. He stopped. The prince had his eyes closed. _

_I will fight. I must fight. I am a Lightshield… A LIGHTSHIELD._

_Jarvan shivered as though someone had sent a shock down his spine._

_There was a fire in Jarvan's soul when he finally opened his eyes. A glimmer that hadn't been there before. With every fall he took, every blow that he had taken, his will was growing stronger. His determination to live, to prove that he was worthy of his name, was giving him the strength he needed. _

_It was then that he saw a smile tug at the corner of Xin's mouth._

_"Young Master, you're too soft for this sort of thing, we should-..." Jarvan dropped the decorum that Xin had instructed him on and launched himself forward, charging at him with new found energy. Xin raised his blade to block and was met with the humming ring of steel on steel._

_"I AM A LIGHTSHEILD." The Prince said through gritted teeth. With two hands, he raised his blade up and brought it down, hard again and again and again. Though he barely came to Xin's shoulder, he could use the high strikes to set Xin off balance. Xin was surprised, the prince was really laying into him and he was being driven back. Xin grabbed his sheath, pulling it off his belt and stepped back putting a gap between him and the mad blows. Taking advantage of the moment, Xin regained his footing and tried to counter attack. _

_As the glimmering steel blade arced towards him, Jarvan knew he was in trouble. His last strike had missed and had sent him stumbling forward right into Xin's range. He shut his eyes, his heart beat pounding in his ears as he screamed in his mind, his base fear and will exploding in his chest. _

_The blade never connected._

_Jarvan opened his eyes and felt warmth surrounding him like the embrace of his mother. It was comforting and the look of shock on Xin's face told him that he had managed something that he shouldn't have been able to. He looked to the ground and saw that a brilliant light had exploded around him, driving Xin back. A smile spread across his face as he recognized the Lightshield he had summoned._

"_I am a Lightshield!" He proclaimed. He looked to Xin, expecting some sort of approving gesture. _

_All he got was a boot to the chest._

* * *

Jarvan smiled to himself, indulging in the memory with a fondness that he hadn't maintained back then. He had been livid when he picked himself up of the ground in the courtyard, but he had been rewarded with a cheering crowd and a nod of approval from the strict master that Xin was turning out to be. That had been his first step towards the warrior tradition that had been passed down from Lightshield to Lightshield. In the many years that followed, he was trained as a leader of men, gradually gaining a command of his own and proving himself over and over in simulated combat and then real combat on the fields of battle.

There came a point where he had been out matched and out maneuvered though, and it would haunt him for the rest of his life. A nightmare that had haunted him ever since.

_Swain…_

He closed his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose, willing Swain's face to depart from his mind for once, gracing him with a half decent night of sleep. He had enough troubles weighing on his mind now with just the most recent events hanging over him like a shadow he couldn't escape. He had spared the dragoness for reasons he couldn't fully understand, and he wondered if he would ever truly realize. It had been an impulse decision he had made in an instance, seeing something in her that he could only wish to see in himself. There were parts of himself that he had seen in her eyes in the first instance of their meeting.

Fear… confusion… a loss of purpose… He had seen all of them swimming around in those magenta eyes, hiding just behind a thin veil of anger. But even deeper down… there was a fire in her heart.

Sleep continued to evade him though, despite what he try to put his mind at ease. He suffered as he always had the image of Swains haunting red eyes hanging in front of him, looking down on him, accusingly, with both pity and malice deeply set in his gaze. That gaze continued to haunt him, terrorizing his conscious and eternally driving him mad. Jarvan heard a rustling along the smooth surface of the stone, the light pit-pat of bare feet moving about. He opened his eyes, only to find another pair of bright magenta eyes staring back at him. His voice caught in his throat, luckily catching the yelp he nearly emitted at the sight of Shyvana standing directly over him.

"What do you want?" He hissed quietly, willing his heart to slow itself from racing. He tried to keep his voice as low as he could, trying not to disturb the men. A guard was posted a short ways down the main staircase, where he had a clear view of the path as it wound through the stone mountains from the pass. They may have been somewhat alone, but his men were still asleep around the depression. Shyvana just stared at him though, her face facing just in front of his, her hair teasing his nose and brushing against his check. She reached out towards his face, but he intercepted her hand before it came too close for comfort. He grabbed her about the wrist, keeping clear of the injured knuckles and fingers he had bandaged earlier as best he could, despite the blind move.

"Your face…" She whispered softly, her hand still hesitantly extended, her smaller arm still caught in his powerful grasp. As much as it unnerved him, she didn't oppose his grip, only wincing slightly when he accidentally applied too much pressure, his gaze uneasy. She didn't flinch though, her eyes still set on his cheek. He slowly released her hand, letting her fingers slide forward and brush along his cheek. He felt the sticky sting of the gashes she had carved on his face from earlier in the day.

"It doesn't bother me… I've become used to injuries like them." He said reassuringly, a bit of bravado lacing his voice, the rest stalwart honestly. Through his two years fighting and journeying in the wastelands, he had come to be used to all the little cuts and bruises that came with combat. He was used to it, and he had long ago been trained to not let such small things bother him. Such minor distractions could lead to disgrace in death in battle.

"You are a curious one, Jarvan Lightshield IV." She said quietly, coming nearly nose to nose with his, staring deep into his eyes. A romantic notion came to mind but he dismissed it. He had no interest in such things right now, and he didn't wish to take advantage of her emotionally confused state. He couldn't say much more for his own emotional health, but he did have a set of values he would abide by.

"Jarvan is fine…" He said, staring up at her. "Just…. Jarvan."

"Shyvana…." She echoed, cocking her head slightly to the side, still staring at him with those haunting eyes. "…just Shyvana." He could hear a hint of something in her voice which he hadn't heard in a long times.

…_playfulness_? He couldn't even begin to recognize the emotion.

"Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, sighing, closing his eyes again almost wishing that she would remove herself from his face. While attractive, he still had only just met the young half-dragoness and only hours previous she had been trying to kill him.

"Why have you come here?" Her voice had lost that hint, that something foreign to his ears that almost left him hopeful he would here it more. It had been replaced with the cold dead inquisitiveness of a lost soul, someone searching for something now, searching for anyone to give her a purpose, anyone to latch onto.

_The same question, yet again…._ Jarvan pushed himself up, Shyvana finally pulling back from being directly in his face, giving him a little breathing room at last. She stepped back over him, keeling at his side as he propped himself up with one arm, re examining the dragoness as if for the first time. He put aside the fact that she had been trying to kill him and simply took in her appearance for a brief moment. The pale moon light left her skin with an eerie, almost blue tint to it, her hair a bright purplish hue in the blue desert moonlight. Her eyes shone a brilliant magenta though, standing out like beacons in the night, an almost inhuman quality to them. He smiled at his own joke, causing Shyvana to cock her head slightly to the side, confused at the gesture.

"Come, talk with me while." Jarvan said, getting slowly to his feet. "You never know…" He murmured, looking up into the sky again staring straight past the moon and into the heavens. "Maybe it'll calm your nerves and ease my tensions."

The stone was cold under his bare feet, but the cool night air against his bare skin was refreshing and invigorating. He had taken advantage of the rare situation of a protected location and had stripped down to just his uniform pants to sleep in for once. Underneath the armor, he had collected a motley collection of scars of his own, the true trophies of his combat beneath the Great Barrier. He pulled his boots on, tucked a knife into the cuff of the right one, and donned a rough hewn tunic against the brisk night air. Shyvana watched him rise, still kneeling where she had been before; her hands perched on her knees.

Jarvan motioned for her to follow as he slowly made his way up the upper staircase to where Shyvana's father's corpse still lay. He respectfully past the corpse though, just out of earshot of his men. The wind might carry their voices, but it wouldn't carry far enough to disturb anyone. Jarvan sat down carefully, perched on the edge of the overhang, his back to a pillar, his neck craned to look out over the Shurima desert. Shyvana followed close behind him, stopping to stand, looking out over the desert for a brief moment. He motioned for her to sit, gesturing to another pillar with a broad sweeping gesture. The young dragoness looked at him for a few seconds and then with a cursory glance at the corpse, she clasped her eyes shut, turning her head away in pain. She sat down on the edge, her feet dangling over the edge of the stone monolith, her hair blowing in the gentle night wind. She brushed it out of her face and tucked the untidy mess behind her ear. She pulled the rough blanket tighter around her, her legs kicking whimsically over the edge as is she didn't have a care in the world for once.

The image reminded Jarvan of the Demacian Academy school girls who had often tried to garner his attention during his rare times on the campus. It was a stark contrast though, the smudges of dirt accenting her face instead of makeup, the heavy burden of the loss of her father weighing on her shoulders where the school girls only had their books and studies to drag them down. Years of traditional education paled in comparison to the wisdom and knowledge that Shyvana's father had bestowed upon her. Jarvan had never been enticed by the women of Demacia, most of them too petty and too concerned with their looks and the concerns of the middle class only weighing on their minds.

Shyvana was by far more attractive in his eyes, though to many she might be nothing more than a beast that should be slain to returned to the wild. Jarvan had learned much in his travels though, slowly losing interest in the hunts, and gradually realizing he was seeking to learn from the prey rather than merely take their bones and scales as trophies.

He had learned stealth from the wild seeker beasts of the Plague Jungles, strength from the great ravager bison of the Tempest Flats, patience from the vicious Kumungu Saber Tigers as they tracked their prey, ingenuity from the striped Monkeys of the Uristan ruins… the list went on. He had been learning more as he hunted, taking the traits of the wild residents of Valoran.

"You've taught me one of the most important things I think I was missing…" He said, looking out over the Shurima desert, his memories drifting past his eyes. When Jarvan had left Demacia, he was looking for atonement. He was looking for absolve for the guilt he felt for letting his men die due to his own stupidity and failure, hoping to find it in the combat of Valoran.

He hadn't found it yet.

However… what he had found was the motivation to go on; to keep on fighting for his men, to never rest till he had vanquished his foes. It had lit a fire in his soul, but at times, this left him conflicted. He felt alive when he was fighting for his life; he felt the passion of combat, the truth of his existence. His love to fight, it was in his blood. He had learned though, imparted from the wisdom of the Anubis, Nasus, that fighting didn't always lead to answers. He leaned back against the pillar, his mind lost in thought. Shyvana leaned over, perching her chin on Jarvan's knee. She stared at him for a few moments, as if she was waiting.

Her eyes glowed in the moonlight, the image hinting at the beastly nature that resided behind the façade of a broken and lost young woman. Jarvan matched her stare for a long time, searching deep into those shimmering orbs of rose and magenta color. They stood out in the night, the fire that burned brightly in them unable to be hidden by the dull pains of the loss of her father.

There was something deep in those eyes that sent a shock up and down Jarvan's spine. _Defiance._

"What could I have taught you?" She asked, confused. Her brow furrowed in thought, her eyes dropping away from his gaze to stare intently at a loose thread on the tunic that Jarvan wore. She looked up at him again, and caught him still staring at her. She blushed and glanced away from him. "My father taught me many things… but I've only just met you." She fell silent against, moving away from Jarvan slightly, sitting up again. "…how could I have taught you anything?"

"You defended your father against us… even though you could have never won against us…"

"That's what you think." Shyvana said with a small giggle.

Her laughter surprised Jarvan. It was a sound that had long eluded him, and something he had never really cared for back in Demacia. He had regarded children with vague disinterest, and he had paid no mind the giggle and flirtatious looks that he attracted when he strode through the corridors of the Academy. He had done his best to flaunt it, and when it served him he could abuse it to get his way, but deep down he knew that the girls that gazed up him wanted one of two things: power or money. It was the desire that they could someday be the next queen and live out their days in the comfort of the Demacian Palace that drove them. It disgusted Jarvan to no end.

However, the sound that came from Shyvana as that playful spark returned to her eyes and voice, it was different. _Genuine. _Despite the fact that one could interpret the gesture as a threat… Jarvan idly dismissed it, wondering how he could coax more of that gorgeous sound from the girl.

Shyvana purposefully paid him no heed. She looked down to the sands of Shurima, the wind shaping and whipping the sands into something completely different than what they had just been. They swirled and rippled like an ocean that had become weary with life and has simply decided it was tired. The eerie blue cast of the moon further reinforced Jarvan's impression of a sleepy ocean.

"My father once told me though…" Shyvana continued to look out over the ocean of sand, a fond look slowly surfacing on her face. "You should never attack someone outright for any reason. Only defend those you love from the attacks of those blinded by ambition or emotion."

Those words struck Jarvan as odd at first. He had long followed blindly with the notion that he was fighting for some noble cause. He had been reared on the thought that all Noxians were his mortal enemies and that anyone opposed Demacia's reign and expansion were in the wrong. It had never occurred to him that it could have been him and his people that could have been at fault. He furrowed his brow in thought as he tried to quell the niggling doubt that had gotten lodged in his mind.

_Demacia was absolute though, it was the greatest of powers in Valoran bringing justice and freedom to all and…_ Jarvan paused. Why should anyone oppose us? We are only doing what is right… only what… He paused again. The revelation rocked over him.

"What we see as true…" Jarvan spoke softly, his brow still knit in argument with himself.

"What one perceives as truth is not always the truth." Shyvana said. She looked almost content as she continued to stare out over the Shurima desert. "Unlike the texts of tomes and the scriptures of civilizations past, the world can't be seen in black and white." She gestured out towards the desert with a broad sweep of her arm. "The world is awash with an infinite shade of grey and as many colors as one can imagine. The same can be said for people and their reasons. Absolute truth is an idea created by man to reassure his methods."

Jarvan smiled broadly as the realization Shyvana had instilled in him took over his thoughts. He didn't fight for Demacia, he fought for himself and for his own satisfaction and gain. No longer could he hide behind the veil of ideals and politics. There would come a time when Jarvan would be given the laurels of the Rule of Demacia. Until then, he could only work to keep those he cared for safe and to protect his country and his people. His duty was to his people, not the idea that Demacia was the sole absolute truth in life.

Jarvan looked back up and once again was face to face with Shyvana, her eyes looking deep into his. He tried to jump back, but the stone pillar behind him kept him from running from her. The tip of her nose was bare millimeters from his own and her bright eyes glimmered as she cocked her head slightly to the side, both curiosity and mischief sparkling behind those magnificent magenta orbs.

The pause between them continued to grow between them. "You look troubled, Jarvan."

"I… I…" Jarvan closed his eyes and calmed the chaotic swirl that was his mind. "Let me ask you a question."

Shyvana sat back on her haunches and cocked her head the opposite direction. "Proceed."

"Say you face an enemy that you have long been opposed to, but they have never personally wronged you." Shyvana paused but kept her rapt attention on Jarvan. "You're faced with a choice: do you continue to oppose them or do you just ignore them?"

Shyvana frowned as she thought.

"My father was the scholar, not I." She said with trepidation. "However, he did tell me something once." She laid down next to Jarvan, letting her head hang down over the ledge as she renewed her stares over the Shurima deserts.

"Shy-…" She pressed a finger to his lips and motioned for him to do the same. Jarvan creased his brow as took pause at the seemingly foolish gesture. Shyvana looked up at him and spitted him with a glare. He sighed and followed suit. He felt foolish as he scooted along the stone and lay out, his head hanging over the edge of the stone monolith. He looked out over the desert. It was odd to look at the world like this but he couldn't figure what he was supposed to be seeing.

"'Even if you turn the entire world upside down, the world will continue to spin'." Shyvana's voice was low and reverent. Jarvan could hear the tears welling in her eyes as she quoted her father's philosophy. "'So it is not our place to judge or render judgment, but it is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves from the unjust judgment of others'. My father watched and protected this pass for hundreds of years because of his beliefs. He was unlike men in that he possessed the wisdom to abhor war and strife, though he was no stranger to it. He survived the rune wars and he made it his goal to protect and prevent those dark times from ever resurfacing."

Jarvan watched the shifting sands with unease heavy on his chest. A heavy weight was crushing him slowly and as he sat here with this young Dragoness, he slowly began to feel that weight upon his chest ease. The bright eyes and optimism she seemed to embody in this unguarded moment belayed the body of her father that was not 30 feet away. It was _refreshing._

Shyvana blinked away her tears as she sat up and looked to the carcass of her father. Jarvan sat upwards as well with a grunt of awkward exertion. He looked to her face and saw the innocence evaporate as something dangerous flashed in her eyes.

_Anger is threatening those beliefs that her father held._

It simmered quickly and the fight drained from her eyes leaving her looking lost and sad, like she was afraid of the world around her.

He searched for something reassuring or comforting to say but he was at a loss for words. _How does one console a dragon?_

He opened his mouth to say something, but his mouth felt dry and the words didn't form when her eyes glazed over and tears began to fall down her cheeks.

Jarvan could fell, skin, gut and field strip and ravager bison without batting an eye. He had dueled the likes of the Frost Trolls to a standstill and nearly frozen to death in the Freljord. He had taken on the likes of the great, multi-eyed Amethyst Wyrms of legend with nary more than a few acid burns to show for it. Faced with the tears of a young dragoness, Jarvan was at a complete loss.

She had been alone for so long, without the only person who had ever cared for her lost from her. The pain and hardship must have been unbearable.

He began to reach out to but a hand reassuringly on her shoulder but paused, still at a loss. She looked at him as tears continued to well in her eyes and run down her cheeks, the brilliance in her magenta eyes dulled by the pain that afflicted her and now struck at him as well. Seeing her like this, it was almost too much to bear. Shyvana fell towards Jarvan as she burst in muted sobs, tears staining Jarvan's rough spun tunic. He looked down at the head of dirty red hair and the small convulsing shoulders. He placed a hand on either shoulder and simply let her cry against him wishing he knew what kind words he could offer to sooth the pain she felt.

She cried, and she cried, and she cried.


	4. Chapter 4: Ambush

The next morning, Jarvan woke as the sun crested the mountains behind him. He squinted as the orange orb slowly rose over the distant peaks. There was a certain silence that the morning brought that was peaceful and set his mind at ease. As he took several deep breaths of the last of the cool night air, he realized there was a bundled lump asleep next to him. He felt his cheeks grow hot as Shyvana's red hair peeked out from under the edge of the dark blanket.

He remembered her falling asleep last night with choked sobs and tears still running down her face. He hadn't the heart to roust her from her uneasy slumber and his presence alone seemed to have calmed her.

Jarvan carefully stretched, still trying not to disturb the young dragoness. As his arms rose above him, he realized that he felt well rested for once. He paused, trying to remember what had plagued his dreams the night before.

The realization that he had slept restlessly was both shocking and amazing to him. He took pause, and looked down at the young dragoness and smiled. He tucked one of the dirty strands of hair that fell into her face behind her ear. He was already growing fond of the young dragoness. Perhaps she would return to Demacia with him.

Jarvan stiffened as a demonic screech cut through the sky and echoed back and forth about Mogron pass. He looked skywards for the source of the sound.

Shyvana jumped up, on all fours, her hair almost standing straight up as she growled. Her eyes had grown wide, going from a frightful sleep to unbridled fury in an instant. Her face was a mix of horrifying and demonic rage, her eyes wide and her grow contorted in her rage. She bared gleaming white teeth with long fangs.

"It's him!" She roared. "He's returned!" Gone was the innocence from the night before, replaced by a fury brought on by hellfire's of damnation. As the cry echoed across the pass again, Jarvan's men stumbled onto the plateau, their weapons drawn and raised to the sky. Shyvana continued to growl as she watch the horizon of a distant mountain.

"Who?" Jarvan asked as he struggled awkwardly to his feet, his leg stiff. "Who has returned?"

"Kampf!" She shouted. "Come down here! Show yourself!" She bellowed into the open sky, slowly turning slowly, as if she were tracking a target.

"Kampf?" Jarvan repeated, frowning.

"Here, sire." Forsythe tossed Jarvan his tunic and gloves. Jarvan plucked them from the air and shucking the rough tunic he had been wearing, he pulled the tight leather tunic that he attached his armor to over his head. Jarvan pulled his hair free of the tunic and tucked the garment into his pants, fastening his belt down. He began attaching his armor plates, fastening the snaps and shoving the belt through the buckles, fastening them down. He took his helm from Argyle's outstretched hand and his lance from Isaacs. The remainder of his men were packing up the encampment, breaking down the cook fire and scattering the coals and rolling their bedding away.

The men eyed Shyvana with tepid interest, still not sure whether they should fear her. Jarvan nodded to them subtly which seemed to calm them. They eased their stances slightly, but yet another ear splintering screech caused them to clamp their hands over their ears. Jarvan dropped his helmet and clasped his hands over his ears as Shyvana screamed back, her cry both pained and vicious.

As Jarvan and his men struggled to regain their footing, a dark shadow swept over them. A massive black dragon crashed down onto the monolith, his massive talons crushing the rock and sending dust cascading down the side of the monolith. He was a massive reptilian beast with long black horns and small red eyes that shown like rubies even in the morning sunshine. His chin was lined with rows of razor sharp horns, his head distinguished by one massive horn that curve3d around the right side of his face, the opposite horn having been broken off long ago in a battle with another great beast. He snorted smoke that rolled across the plateau like fog in the early morning, the stench of his breath overpowering.

His eye darted back and forth between Jarvan and Shyvana, what one could best call a sneer forming on his long snout. His body was covered in black oily looking scales from head to the tip of his tail, shard boney extrusions dotting his spine and festooning his shoulders and the tip of his wings. His massive black wings folded back as he used crooked talons to hold himself upon the plateau, swinging his great head, taking in Jarvan's motley crew.

"Ah yes." He rumbled. Jarvan could hear the bass tones of the mythic beast reverberating in his heart, the beast voice alone able to cause his heart to race. "The monster-slaying hero." He paused as he reared his head back and let a booming chuckle reverberate from his scaly belly. His chest swelled as fire licked the sky, a great pillar of flame reaching out as if to blind even the sun. As smoke curled from his nostrils and his great jaws, he lowered his head to Jarvan's eye level. "Did you ever find the remnants of your friends that I devoured?" He chuckled again, the stone beneath Jarvan's feet rumbling with the sound. "I tried to leave them somewhere you would find them…"

"You-you…" Jarvan swept his lance back as he crouched to leap but the dragon knocked it aside, sending the weapon tumbling down over the edge of the cliff. Jarvan nearly went after as he tumbled backwards, stopped only by his crash into one of the pillars that rose up around the edge of the monolith. The dragon took a massive stride forward and clasping Jarvan's leg in one talon lifted him high. As Jarvan struggled with the crushing pressure on his leg, the beast eyed his squirming with vague disinterest.

"Spare me, pathetic human." The shutter lid swept back across his eye and retracted again as the beast took Jarvan's defiant glare in. A long pink scar swept down across his eye, bisecting scales and ending abruptly at the corner of his jaw. His left wing was also held at an odd angle, the leathery material shredded in places. There were also long gashes along his throat that swept along his neck and down his side.

"PUT HIM DOWN!" The dragon swung his head towards Shyvana, who was still down on all fours, her teeth bared and her eyes wide. She had long thin pupils like that of her dragon father, her rage barely contained as she struggled to keep her beast form from surfacing.

"And the half-human runt." Kampf chuckled again as he continued toying with Jarvan. "How fitting you would fall for a human just like your father. Typical." He tossed Jarvan up into the air and plucked him from his fall towards the edge by his other leg. Jarvan screwed up his face in pain, but he refused to let the beast get any satisfaction out of Jarvan.

"He is mine!" Shyvana hissed, her voice rumbling from her throat unlike anything Jarvan had heard from her before.

Kampf paused and eyed Jarvan again. He then swung his massive head towards Shyvana and eyed her as well. He reared back and belched more flame into the sky as he roared in laughter.

"How quaint!" Kampf roared as he shook with laughter, a crooked grin forming on his long snout in his best impersonation of a human sneer. "You have developed an affection for him?" Kampf said, dangling Jarvan above Shyvana like a treat just out of her reach. She continued to stay down, her rage still growing as smoke rose from beneath her palms.

"Fine, you want him?" Kampf said, rearing back, "You can-…ARGH!" The beast hissed in pain as he brought Jarvan too close to his great head. The Prince had finally managed to retrieve his knife from his boot and as he swung past, dangling upside down, he had struck out, his knife aiming for the beast's eye.

The blade had struck true and deep, black blood gushing from the socket as Kampf reared back and sprayed fire and smoke into the sky, roaring in pain. He tossed Jarvan aside like a child angry with his toy. The prince crashed into Shyvana, sending them both tumbling into the basin on the lower plateau of the monolith. They crashed into one of the walls, the wind getting expelled from Jarvan's lungs, and Shyvana crashing on top of him.

His head spinning and blackness creeping into the edge of his vision, Jarvan struggled to calm his spinning head as Shyvana struggled to get to her feet, sprawled across the prince's lap.

"Are you hurt?" He opened his eyes, the plateau still spinning underneath him, a red blur centered in his vision. As the sky slowly righted itself and the many stars retreated from his vision, the red mass resolved itself into the red hair and violet eyes of Shyvana. Her eyes were aflame in anger, but there was still worry plastered across her face.

"I think so…" Jarvan said with effort. His chest felt heavy, as if someone were sitting on it. "I think I may have cracked rib or two." He said as he leaned forward and struggled to his feet. He looked up as the blackened corpse of one of his men went sailing by, tumbling down the side of the monolith towards the desert below.

"You and your men, "She glanced to where they stood defensively, "Should get out of here." Shyvana said. She stepped over Jarvan towards Kampf.

"Like hell." Jarvan said, an ambitious grin on his face. "I still have to pay this bastard back." He raised his lance and pointed at the dragon. "Besides, I love a challenge." Jarvan looked to Isaacs, a grin on his face. "Lieutenant?"

"Ours is but to do or die." Isaacs said, licking his lips. "We will follow you anywhere, my liege."

"You're sure you want to do this?" Shyvana frowned as she turned back to Jarvan. Seeing his ambition and aggression she couldn't help put on a brave expression for the prince. He could see she was trembling, her shoulders and arms held tight around her. Whether it was due to rage or fear, Jarvan couldn't be certain, but he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him with her violent magenta Eyes. Jarvan could tell that she wanted retribution for her father, and he didn't think she would be able to live with herself unless she was able to see this vile beast slain, or do it herself.

"I've got your back no matter what." Jarvan spoke with a certainty that instilled confidence in Shyvana. She smiled as he picked up his lance and stepped up to her side. Jarvan took off at a run, closing on the beast. Shyvana raced past, a swirling sheet of flame beneath her feet carrying her forward at an unbelievable pace. He reared back her fist as she closed with the beast and collected a ball of flame in her hand. The flames swirled around her fist and she struck, hard, the ball of flame exploding against his scaly hide. She followed the blow up with an almost instant strike with her left hand, using the flat palmed blow to smash through the fire weakened scales. Kampf roared in pain as he kicked out, the blow sending Shyvana skittering back across the surface of the plateau.

Jarvan crashed the pommel of his lance down on the sandstone plinth and send a standard flying through the air, arcing high above the dragon. It crashed down, striking the sandstone and imbedding itself opposite the beast. Jarvan hit a button on his lance, cause a small magical charge to explode, extending his lance instantly. He hooked one of the barbed tips of the lance around the standard and pulled himself in, the lance retracting, drawing him past the dragon. He flew directly under the beasts snout, and using his standard as a back stop, his kicked off and launched himself towards the beast. He brought his lance up, using his forward motion to put extra force behind his first blow. He aimed for the beast's neck, and the blow hit with a sound like the firing of a cannon, but the dragon's thick hide and armored scales did much to deflect the blow. It did drive deep and Jarvan pulled himself up and over the beast, rolling in a rough landing that left him on a knee as he skidded to a stop.

"Isaacs!" Jarvan ordered, turning to his men, "Keep your distance but don't let the beast escape!" Jarvan ordered as he sprinted forward again. The Lieutenant and his men surged forward, propelled by their captain's battle cry and their will to live. As they charged, a wave of flame swept over them.

"Shield!" Isaacs shouted at the last moment. He and his men raised their shield over their heads and brought the broad metal plates down in front of them, crouching behind the large broad steel plates. However, several men had forgotten their shields and they paid for it with their lives. Two more men went to meet their maker, their charred corpses falling to the ground unceremoniously.

Shyvana moved from side to side, juking Kampf's attempts to snap at her. He nearly clipped her one time, but she raised her arms and was merely knocked backwards towards her father's remains. She went end over end, and crashed into the remains. She pulled herself up to her knees, struggling to raise herself up.

She had just pulled herself to her feet when Jarvan bowled her over, grasping her around the middle and diving to the side. She rolled with him as she felt the hair on her back get burned away, black smoke rising from the bones, the last of Shyvana's father remains getting burned away. All that was left were the bones. Shyvana came up on all fours and skittered to a stop, her nails already stumps. Bloody marks were left on the stone beneath her, her rage blinding her to the pain in her hands. She launched herself forward, flames billowing behind her as she sprinted, rising up onto two feet.

Jarvan extended his lance and struck the dragon on his shoulder, just above the joint to his wing. The blow had just managed to strike the scales right and the blade managed to get under the scales, cutting deep. The dragon roared, rearing back angrily. He struck left and then right with the extended lance, the blade skittering along Kampf's neck.

The sound of Shyvana's transformation caused bile to rise in Jarvan's throat as her skin seemed to bubble and boil as she launched up through the air. Her arms seemed to break and snap in multiple places as the bones splintered and expanded, taking on a whole new form. Her nose elongated into a long snout, her eyes growing in size and her teeth growing into mighty fangs. Her bones knit themselves together as she expanded and spread her wings.

They were tattered as if someone had shredded them, and her attempt to launch into flight only left her crashing down towards Kampf in a ball of talons, fangs and flames. She struck hard, her newfound mass catching the dragon off guard. Shyvana lashed out with her claws, spaying flame as she swiped at his face. She raked her claws across his injured eye, the bloody socket getting shredded. She grappled with him momentarily, before she opened her mighty jaw and clamped down around his throat. She tried to pike through the scales, but her sharpened fangs only ground on the armored plates. The softer tissue on his neck started to give way, causing him to roar in pain. He lashed back and forth, his brute strength great enough to even heft Shyvana and toss her back, her grip unable to hold on.

Kampf slashed at her with his talons, cutting a deep swath in Shyvana's side and down her leg. Jarvan dove to the side again as Shyvana crashed down, the young dragon trying to roll out of the fall but merely crashing down on the stone. She roared in anguish, the sound like that of a wounded animal. She struggled to right herself, and when she finally managed to get herself to her feet, she took off at a sprint on all fours, fire swirl around her feet and leaving a burning wake on the ground behind her. She lashed out again, her claws cutting deep but catching on his armor plates. Kampf spun and struck Shyvana with his tail, the heavy pummel like appendage easily batting her aside. As she tumbled through the air, she shrunk down to her human form. Her frame falling back to its normal size, the thick blue skin and armored scales reverting to her delicate pale skin. Her hair returned to its long length, the long red strands the shade of the crimson blood that stained her skin. She hit the monolith and rolled, her body twisting at and odd angle as she did.

Shyvana finally came to rest, face down on the ground, a pool of blood expanding from the massive wounds on her side and hip.

"NO!" Jarvan bellowed. "SHYVANA!"

His face contorted in rage, Jarvan thrust his lance forward, sparking the magic charge that resided in the long barrel of his weapon. The tip of the lance exploded forward, extending many times its reach and hooking to one of the many horns that crested Kampf's brow. The Dragon screeched in anger, tossing his head up, nearly ripping Jarvan's arm from his socket as he tossed Jarvan skyward. Jarvan tried to roll as he landed, trying to come up in a fighting stance. He only managed to crash into yet another pillar as the dragon spread its wings and threatened to send all of Jarvan's men stumbling off the side as he took off unsteadily into the sky in a massive gust of wind.

Jarvan pulled himself to his feet as the beast circled about, preparing to swoop in upon the monolith and spray it with fire.

"Take cover!" He shouted as the beast closed in, Jarvan's men scattering for shelter behind rocks. Jarvan dove towards Shyvana, her form still lying motionless upon the ground, the deep gash in her side, running down her hip and across her thigh. Jarvan summoned his lightshield with all of his strength, throwing the barrier up around him and the dragoness, the flames descending around them. Jarvan turned as he poured what magical energy he had remaining into the shield, the heat barely getting split to either side. He felt his armor growing hot as the dragon's flames began to break through the Lightshield. They scorched his back and began to burn through the leather tunic when the beast finally passed overhead and the flames retracted. Jarvan fell to his knees over the dragoness, his legs limp and his arms feeling frail with the exertion. Sweat poured down his face and his back screaming in agony as blackened flesh tightened over the wound. Shyvana blinked open her eyes as tears dripped down Jarvan's nose, the pain overwhelming.

"Jar…van…." She said softly, her small trembling hand reach up to his cheek. "…you saved me." Her gaze looked distant.

"Stay with me…" Jarvan breathed softly. The monolith was eerily silent as Kampf circled around yet again. He would be looking for a finishing blow with his good eye. "I'm going to finish this. For the both of us." Shyvana smiled weakly, tears welling up in her eyes. Her hand fell away from his face and her eyes fluttered shut, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank…. You…." She fell silent.

"Shy… Shyvana…" Jarvan breathed, he froze, his mind racing, his anger flaring, desperate for something to help her. He reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a small vial, filled with a crimson substance. He snapped the top off of the small vial and carefully holding Shyvana's head with one hand, and emptied the contents into her mouth. He could only hope it wasn't too late.

A green aura enveloped her as she coughed and spluttered, the health potion taking effect, the dragoness on the verge of death. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked up in the smiling face of the Jarvan.

"Welcome back." He said softly. She smiled and closed her eyes again. Nuzzling his hand weakly. Her chest rose and fell, her heart beat thready but solid. He laid her head gently on the stone and stood, ignoring the pain in his back. He retrieved his lance and looked skywards, the dragon diving towards him. Jarvan stood valiantly, taunting the beast in.

"It's time to end this, Kampf!" Jarvan bellowed. "You dare defy my will?" Jarvan smirked, a thought racing through his mind.

"Demacia… get some." Jarvan raised his arm and clasped his hand down over his other arm, bending it at the elbow. He raised his fist and extended his middle finger in a defiant archaic gesture that Kampf immediately recognized.

Kampf screamed in rage at the obscene gestures that Jarvan made, refusing to be goaded on by this pathetic human. He dove, aiming for the human standing defiantly on the cliff. As he stretched his talons open for the strike, the human rolled away.

Jarvan dove to the side, coming up in a stance on one knee and a hand to brace him and struck the pommel of his lance down onto the stone. The center of his lance shot out like a ballista, arcing up through the air, and landing deep in the neck of dragon. The beast roared as it coiled back, trying to grasp the standard with his jaw and rip it out, however the standard retreated as the beast tried to gnash at it. Jarvan sprinted towards the edge of the cliff as the beast tumbled down, towards the ground, rolling and writhing in pain. Jarvan extended his lance again, the long blade extending out to strike the dragon. The blade just barely missed, but the dragon realized only just too late that Jarvan hadn't been aiming for him. The hooked prongs at the end of the weapon hooked onto the standard that was impaled upon his neck, drawing Jarvan in at an alarming speed. The beast swung its head around and rolled, spraying flames at the pesky human, but the flames had no effect, a bright Lightshield erupting between him and his quarry, as the human continued to close, his weapon raised above his head.

Jarvan raised his weapon up, and summoning all the force in his body and the spirit of his fathers before him, he struck down as the beast crashed into the ground. His lance pierced the beast's chest and drove home as the hit the ground. The impacted with such force that the ground around them rose up to form an arena, the sandstone spires rising up to surround Jarvan and the beast that writhed in agony, blood pouring from the massive wound. Kampf tried to belch flames and burn Jarvan to a crisp in an act of defiance, but they exploded outwards from his chest, sending Jarvan flying.

Jarvan struck one of the walls of the cataclysm that the fall had caused and the force of the blow caused him to lose consciousness. He crumpled upon the ground at the edge of the staggered wall.

* * *

When Jarvan came to, he found himself still in the arena he and his draconian quarry had made, but the beast was absent. He shook the confusion from his head and pulled himself to his feet, his head swimming. As he struggled to maintain his balance, the black blood that coated the ground and the sides of the arena told Jarvan that his quarry hadn't gone far and wouldn't last long less he could find a place to lay up and heal. He needed to find the bastard. He didn't think he would survive another round and it was going to be rough even if any of his men had survived.

Jarvan retrieved his lance from the side of the arena and gave it a cursory inspection. The magical components were still intact and he had a few of the standards still loaded in the long weapons hidden barrel. Satisfied the weapon would hold up, he slammed the pommel into the ground and launched a standard through the air, arcing the flag up and onto the peaks of the arena. It impacted heavily in the rock and bored down and stuck, forming a solid anchor though an odd angle. Jarvan spread his feet to roughly shoulder width apart and struck out, triggering his lance. The head fired and extended like a pile, he swung the weapon at the last second and hooked the prong onto the standard and with a tug, he found himself being launched upward and out of the arena. He sailed over the edge with ease but found himself tumbling down towards the ground leading with his shoulder. He crashed into the ground and rolled, ending up in a pile a few feet from his intended landing point. He grunted and blew dust from his mouth as he righted himself and slowly pulled himself to his feet.

_Maybe that fight took more out of me than I thought it did._

Jarvan looked up to the fire blackened monolith that stretched up toward the sky. He jogged to the edge of the ridge he was below and paused, looking about. Droplets of black blood led north, headed for the entrance to Mogron Pass. The trail that led back up to the top of the monolith was to his right. He took pause, almost dreading to find out just how many of his men had survived, but steeled himself against the thoughts. He stepped over the edge of the ridge and jumped, sliding down the soft material towards the path, starting a small avalanche as he went. He jumped clear of the falling debris and jogged the rest of the way up to the base of the watchtower. He had already spotted two unidentifiable bodies in that short journey.

_It might not be about who we find dead more so who we find alive. _Jarvan ran up the steps two at a time, finding solace in the exertion. As he neared the top, he slowed to a walk, finding another body burned to the stone, his body burned to a crisp. Jarvan leaned down and carefully chipped away some of the burnt flesh to reveal the Demacian dog tags that had hung on a leather strap around his neck. The leather was gone and the metal was melted to the skin. Jarvan pried it free and turned it over. The name stamped on the metal read 'Jacken Argyle'. Jarvan felt bile rising in his throat. He clasped the remains of the metal sheet in his hand and closed his eyes, the stench of burned human flesh clinging to the inside of his nose.

"Thank you, my friend." Jarvan carefully stepped over Argyle's remains and continued up the top of the monolith. There were the several burnt forms, many of them not more than armor and bones. Some, Jarvan could identify, though there were others completely missing.

Isaacs was sitting on the steps that led upwards towards the top of the monolith, his head in his hands. At the sound of armored boots on the stone, he looked up. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, and instantly Jarvan knew.

"He died at the hands of a mighty beast." Isaacs said with a heavy sigh. "I suppose he would have liked that."

"Valin…" Jarvan said, putting a hand on Isaacs shoulder. The man looked up. "Valin, your son was a great man and a true Demacian hero. Shore was a proud and capable soldier. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way." Valin Isaacs nodded solemnly and pulled himself to his feet, albeit shakily. He closed his eyes as he stretched his back.

"I think so." He nodded again, pausing. "I think… I think that if I survive this, I'm going to retire." He said with yet another nod as if to reaffirm his decision. "Get married again perhaps. Settle down."

Jarvan nodded in agreement. Valin Isaacs was many years his senior and a career soldier. He hadn't cared much for command so he had stayed in the infantry, choosing to mentor the younger Prince rather than rise through the ranks. In many ways, Jarvan was as much as his son as the young Shore. Only a few month older than Forsythe, he was nearly as young, though he had only just joined Jarvan's company when they had suffered their crushing defeat at the hands of Swain. Under the watchful eyes of his father, he had shown great promise, but that had just been cut short. Valin clutched what Jarvan recognized as a set of dog tags that was halfway melted, just as he had found Argyles.

Jarvan turned and began to search for any other survivors. He found two more similarly charred corpses about the watch tower. Unable to recover their dog tags, he could barely identify the remains of the armor as that of Torn and Orion. He found Forsythe alive but unconscious, a gash on the top of his head above his eye. It ran all the way down, across his eye and down to the corner of his eye. A talented healer could have saved the eye, but here, stuck in Mogron pass, the boy would be wearing an eye patch for the rest of his life. Jarvan examined the wound, and while grievous, it would be survivable. Jarvan quickly bandaged the wound and then continued his search.

Jarvan moved onto the upper tier of the monolith where he found Shyvana sitting pensively, her back to the bones of her father, the remainder of his flesh burned away by the flames that Kampf had rained down upon the monolith. Jarvan stood beside her taking in the bloody sky, the sun just beginning to fall towards the horizon. He hadn't realized it but he must have been out for several hours. Jarvan picked a singed blanket and draped it over Shyvana's small shoulders. She clutched the blanket and leaned her cheek against the hand he left resting on her should for a brief few moments.

Shyvana looked up to him with sunken eyes, dark circles accenting the magenta orbs that glowed like gems in the long shadows that stretched out from the pillars. Their flame was only barely dampened, but Jarvan could feel her pain and shared it. Jarvan looked down at her with silent understanding.

"About your men…" She spoke quietly, her normally powerful voice was hushed and reverent.

"Save it." Jarvan said with reserve. "They knew the risks and they knew they may not come back from this."

"They say dragons are without remorse." Shyvana looked to the ground. "I suppose I'm more human than I thought." She stifled a sob with a course laugh.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing." Jarvan did his best to manage a chuckle of his own. "We may be a young breed, but we have our perks."

"Is that so?" Shyvana said, standing. She winced as she fully extended her leg, pulling the skin taunt over her hip. The wounds had stopped bleeding, but even with draconian blood in her veins, it would take her several days to fully heal. Her pale skin was even paler than normal and he could tell she had lost a lot of blood. As she stood, the centermost gash began to bleed, just barely a trickle running down her leg.

"Ask me about it when we have some peace and quiet and I'll show you." Jarvan said with a smirk.

"Is that so?" Shyvana asked, raising an eyebrow. She moved slightly closer to Jarvan and sniffed a few times. "I smell fear…" She had a smirk to match Jarvan's and she giggled at the aghast look on his face.

"I…" Jarvan stammered, taken aback by her response. He had been flirting with her to try and relieve some of the tension, but she had plenty of fire still left in her yet.

"Kidding." She said. The small smile she wore suited her, though the exhaustion that showed through in her face and eyes really made her look human. She began to turn, but the motion of her hips cause her to fall forwards into Jarvan's arms. She blushed as he sank to his knees, carrying her carefully to the ground.

"Sorry…" She spoke softly, her face glowing red against her pale skin. Her cheeks were nearly the shade of her long red hair. "The damage is pretty bad." He inspected the damage and knew that if they weren't patched up, they would only fester and get worse.

"I'll get that bandaged for you." Jarvan picked her up and stood, his own knees threatening to give out. He moved carefully, giving the bodies a wide berth. He set Shyvana down in the shade of the upper tier and propped her gently against the wall. He rummaged through his pack and pulled out his canteen, a long strip of gauze that had been rolled up and a few other things. "I used my last health potion on you before, so we'll have to do this the hard way."

Jarvan pealed his armor off and stacked it neatly to the side, and pealed his sweaty tunic off. He poured some water from the spring over it and laid the garment out over a rock to dry. He returned to Shyvana's side, a small bundle under his arm. As he sat down, he unrolled the bundle, revealing medical supplies and a few small packs. He helped Shyvana lay out carefully, stretching her back.

Shyvana nodded bravely, a sad look on her face. She pulled the blanket back and revealed her hip. She did her best to preserve her modesty, but Jarvan caught a glimpse of a crimson tuft of hair. Shyvana's face was crimson. Jarvan ignored it and began to clean the wound, using a bit of gauze and some water to wipe away the dried blood. She winced as he went about his task. She hissed in pain as he carefully cleaned over the wound.

"I used to think you gentle." She said, trying to keep her voice even. "How wrong I was." Jarvan poked her in the shoulder.

"You wanna do this?" Jarvan asked. She pulled the blanket up over the edge of her face and looked up at him with big eyes. She shook her head and stayed quiet while he finished cleaning and then wrapping the wound as best he can. She only winced a few times.

"Thanks." She spoke softly, and Jarvan nodded solemnly. He continued working on her hip, trying to patch the wound up as best her could. He pulled a small leather kit from his belt and unrolled the small parcel to reveal a small bolt of thread and a few needles. Jarvan grunted as he shifted, sitting cross legged. He looked up over his shoulder, watching the sun drop over the mountains, starting the plunge the world into darkness.

Isaacs pulled Forsythe over and went to work starting to build a fire. He stacked the remainder of the wood they had accumulated and then sparked some char cloth and lit the bit of tinder he had saved. He blew into the embers and soon he had a roaring fire. Jarvan nodded his thanks and taking a burning stick, he held a needle over the flames and when satisfied with the needle, he threaded the hook of the needle. Shyvana looked down as Jarvan matched her gaze. Isaacs extended his hand, a small piece of thick folded leather, held in his hand.

"Here, bite down on this." He said with a nod. Shyvana glanced back and forth between the leather and him and nodded meekly. She extended her neck and clamped down on the leather, her gaze returning to Jarvan. Isaacs set a small bottle down next to him and then stepped back. His eyes followed Isaacs as he turned and slumped down across from the fire, holding a small pan of water over the fire and holding his free hand to the fire. Jarvan watched him for a few seconds, but matched gazes with Shyvana. Her eyes glowed, reflecting the light of the fire. Her pale skin looked almost ghostly in the moon light, her face still flushed red, despite the loss of blood.

"Ee jen-le." Shyvana said weakly, grinning behind the leather. Jarvan couldn't help but smile at the words.

"I'll do my best." He rinsed and scrubbed his hands with a bit of soap, washing the soap away with water and shook them dry. He held his hands up to the fire and waited for them to dry. Satisfied, he raised the needle and thread and went about sew up the worst of the gashes that ran up and down Shyvana's hip. He set the needle aside carefully and pulled out a small filleting knife, used for cleaning and gutting dead game. He rinsed it off and sterilized it, holding it over the flame. Satisfied, he rinsed more water over, it cooling the blade. He raised his gaze to Shyvana, her face screwed up, ready for the pain. Jarvan nodded as Isaacs set the pan of water down next to Jarvan and then kneeled over Shyvana. She looked up at him with big eyes. He set his hands on her shoulders firmly as she tried to shrink back towards Jarvan. He held her fast though.

Jarvan raised his knife to the wound and carefully, pulled the raw wound apart. The flesh was crimson and there was blood still pooling in the bottom of it, going deep above and below the hip bone, a small gash along the bone. He set about carefully digging out the small bone fragments, and a piece of talon that had been broken from Kampf's talon. He carefully worked the talon out, and was amazed that Shyvana had been able to stand, much less walk with the sharp piece of talon stuck in her side. Jarvan set the bone and talon in a shallow dish that he sat beside him, blood dripping from fragments. Her moans and muted screams echoed in his ears though, he knew that the pain was immense.

Jarvan began to dig through the other gashes, but neither had been as deep as the central one. He set the knife down on Shyvana's pale skin, more blood staining her pale skin. Jarvan wiped some of the blood from his hands and then pulled the stopper from the bottle that Isaacs had left him.

"This is going to hurt." Jarvan spoke softly. "I'm sorry." Shyvana raised her head and looked at him with sad eyes. Jarvan's heart throbbed, but he poured the alcohol into her wounds. She bucked against Isaacs, nearly throwing him aside, but Isaacs kept the pressure on, keeping her shoulders pressed firmly to the ground. Her screams were muted by the leather, but they cut deeply into Jarvan's heart.

He poured the steaming water over her, getting it deep in the gashes, washing away the alcohol. Shyvana feel silent, only a whimper or a weak moan coming from her as Jarvan held the skin together with one hand and pierced the skin with his other hand. He pulled the short length of thread half way through and tied the suture off with a basic double knot. He continued working up and down the gouge, diluted blood gushing out as he reached the end. Satisfied that the sutures were firmly tied, but not too tight, he began the second gash, only needing a few sutures along the middle of the deepest part of the gash to close it. He repeated it with the third gash and when we was finished, he washed the wounds with the now cold water that remained in the pan.

He took a clean cloth and carefully wiped the blood away and blotted up the remained of the water and blood. Isaacs nodded to Jarvan and returned to the fire. He sat down and stared into it deeply, as Jarvan, satisfied with her sutures, pulled the blanket down around Shyvana. He pulled himself to his feet and dipped the pan into the spring. He drunk deeply, the cool water relieving the tension in his shoulders. He dipped another pan from the spring and poured it over his head, the water dripping over the side of the monolith. He dipped the pan a third time and filled the large bottle on his hip and carried it over to Shyvana. He sat down next to her, lifting her head gently into his lap, his back to the cold stone.

Her eyes fluttered open, the magenta orbs seeming muted and soft compared to their fierce and aggressive brilliance. She smiled up at him, her hers fluttering closed again as soon as she had put eyes on Jarvan.

"You were gentle." She said softly. Jarvan chuckled.

"That's not exactly what I was led to believe." Jarvan said, brushing hair out of her face. She nuzzled his hand softly, her flushed cheek hot to the touch. "Here." Jarvan said, helping her sit up slightly, still propped up against his chest. She carefully pushed herself into his lap, her head leaning against his chest, just below his chin. Jarvan lifted the pan to her lips and she drunk greedily. She nearly drained the pan, barely leaving any in the bottom. Jarvan carefully wiped a drip from her chin as she sat back, breathing deeply. Shyvana breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling calmly.

"Thanks." Her voice was barely a whisper, her soft tones weak with exhaustion. Jarvan began to help her lay back down but she gently shook her head. "Please, let me stay like this."

Jarvan paused, but pulled the blanket up to her chin. Shyvana pushed against him, snuggling down, turning her head slightly. She pulled Jarvan's arm across her chest underneath the blanket, wrapping it around her. She was cold to the touch and Jarvan's warm body would help keep her warm. Jarvan tensed at the swell of her chest brushing his chest, but Shyvana pulled him close and quickly drifted off to sleep with Jarvan's arm draped across her shoulder and down across her chest. He sighed, but sat back and looked to the stars, content.

As Jarvan drifted off to sleep, something new predominated his mind. As he fell asleep, his dreams were no longer nightmares about Swain, but instead, they were dominated by a certain red-haired half-dragon.

* * *

The sun had risen high in the sky and the occupants of the top of the monolith had still yet to stir. With a flash of red hair, the cloaked figure's companion drew herself from the shadow of the craggy rock and stretched lazily.

While he would have normally enjoyed a taut female form as such, the cloaked figure had other things on his mind. His brooding was punctuated with a loud yawn. His frustration bubbling to the surface, the cloaked figure did his best to maintain his temper.

"This is no challenge." He spat, his permanent frown ever present.

"Intriguing." His red haired companion spoke, her voice almost a purr.

"Hmm?" He growled. "This is no challenge. Why are we following these Demacians?"

"We're searching for information." She spoke, sitting on a rock, raising the spyglass to her eye. She frowned as Jarvan finally rose. "Following the missing Prince seems like a decent idea." She covered her mouth as she yawned again. The cloaked figure sighed.

"I suppose." He said, pulling his cloak down around his face.

"We don't exactly have any other leads at the moment." She shrugged.

"Let's finish this quickly."


	5. Chapter 5: Requiem

Jarvan rose early the next morning, Shyvana still sleeping peacefully against his chest. Jarvan felt well rested, something that had eluded him for the longest time. He rose carefully, trying not to disturb Shyvana, who still slept soundly. She moaned gently when Jarvan lay her carefully against the stone, but the stone was still warm from Jarvan's back and she shifted and continued her slumber quietly.

He stood and stretched, his knuckles brushing against the stone of the overhang. Jarvan stepped into the sunlight and raised his hand against the radiant light, drawing himself to his full height and stretching his back.

"I assume we're going after the beast?"

Jarvan looked over his shoulder and nodded a greeting to Isaacs.

"Valin. You startled me." Jarvan said, pulling his tunic from the rock and pulling it down over his head.

"Many pardons, Liege." Isaacs said, bowing his head.

"But to answer your question, Yes." Jarvan said, his voice suddenly steely and cold. "Wake, Forsythe."

"And the Dragoness?" Issacs said, raising his eyebrow. "I assume you two did manage to get some sleep last night?" Jarvan had been taking a swig from his bottle and he spluttered, spraying water in a fine mist out into the air. He coughed and wiped the water from his chin.

"Surely you jest." Jarvan said, brushing water from his tunic. He spitted Issacs with a stare. The old man cracked a wry smile and shook his head as he turned.

Jarvan shook his head. As he turned to the young dragoness and considered the other problem. She had ripped her clothes to bare tatters when she had turned into a dragon and Jarvan had wrestled her to the ground. It'd hadn't been too much of a hindrance over the past few hectic days, but it would prove to be problematic on the road. Shyvana squirmed underneath the blanket and rose sleepily. The blanket fell to her waist as she yawned. Jarvan blushed at the view, but it sent a jolt of lightning up and down his spine. Shyvana looked up at him and smiled pleasantly as she tried to rub sleep from her eyes. Jarvan covered his mouth with his hand and coughed, glancing away. Shyvana glanced down.

"Eep." She squeaked, grasping at the blanket. She blushed deeply as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Jarvan covered his eyes, catching a view of a tuft of red hair. Shyvana's entire face was crimson now as she tried to tug the blanket down to keep herself covered. Jarvan chuckled and smiled, his face red. Shyvana looked up at him and giggled, soon laughing hard at her own bumbling.

"Here let me." Jarvan said, carefully. Shyvana stopped her struggling as Jarvan pulled a Demacian Emblem pin from his own cloak that had been draped over his shoulder. He pulled the blanket around Shyvana's shoulders and clipped it over her collarbone, pinning the clasp together. He gave it a brisk tug, but the blanket did not give way. He handed her a pair of armored boots and some armor plates, and helped her clasp them into place. Shyvana belted several smaller scraps of blankets around her waist that formed a sort of loincloth and layered a few of the armored plates over her waist. Jarvan helped her to her feet, hauling her up with both hands. He overestimated and sent her flying up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him. Jarvan was surprised by the action, but her warm embrace was more than enough to bring a smile to his face. She hung to him silently, holding him tight, his own arms enfolding her.

"Thank you." Her voice was extremely quiet, barely a whisper. Jarvan merely held her close, feeling a bit of dampness growing on his shoulder. She held onto him for the longest time, and Jarvan was content just holding her in his arms. It was comforting to him to hold her close, and it wasn't a feeling he wanted to forget anytime soon. He stroked her hair gently for a few minutes. Her hands touched the top edge of the burns on his back and Jarvan sucked in a breath. Shyvana froze and released him, falling down to stand firmly on her own two feet.

"Sorry…" She said, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

"It's fine." Jarvan said, standing to his full height carefully. His skin felt leathery and sticky where the burns were. He couldn't feel pain around much of it, just the edges where the burns weren't nearly as bad. He pulled the tunic carefully back over his head, hissing as the leather peeled off the sticky burned tissue.

"Here, little lady." Shyvana turned and was just barely able to catch the pouch that Isaacs had tossed. She looked at it and then back to Isaacs. He gestured to the pouch. "Crush those leaves up with a bit of water and then apply it to the burns. Then wrap it with this." Shyvana plucked the roll of gauze from the air as Isaacs tossed it. He winked at Shyvana with a knowing nod and then turned to prepare their packs.

"Here…" Shyvana said, pushing Jarvan down into a sitting position. He begrudgingly did so, still bare chested. He hissed through his teeth when Shyvana poured cold water over his back. She used a small strip of the gauze as a rag as she used more water to clean the burned areas as carefully as she could. Jarvan grunted occasionally but he kept quiet for most of the work. When she finished, Shyvana emptied to contents of the small pouch into the pot and ground the leafy material into a fine dust with a rounded off rock. She cupped her hands and dipped then into the pool of water and then carefully filled the bottom of the pan. She mixed the powder and the water to make a fine paste. Using her fingers she applied the paste to the worst of the burned areas.

She stood back and considered how to wrap the bandage for a minute. She finally made her mind up and began to wrap the bandages around him.

"Raise your arms." Jarvan did as he was told. She wrapped the bandages around him carefully, pulling it snug but not too tight. She tied the bandage off carefully. She took pause and looked over the scars and bruises that decorated his body. Of the many that marked and marred his body, the most ornate of which resembled a dragon. There was a long snaking scar that wrapped up his right arm and crested his shoulder like a dragon, the spines of his dragon's horns decorating his neck. Shyvana ran a few fingers carefully up and down the long scar.

"It came from a tangle with a Dragon in the Ironspike Mountains." Jarvan said looking down at the ground. "He was small for a dragon, but he had sharp claws and they left a mark when I took him down." Shyvana stroked the scar slowly, taking in its curves and the odd shapes that accented it.

"I see…" She said. She stared at it and a few other of his nicks and scars, but there weren't any others that were nearly as interesting. She turned her attention back to the bandages. Giving them a cursory examination, she made sure the last of the knots was firmly in place. Satisfied with her work she tugged his hair gently. Jarvan struggled to his feet and carefully stretched his back. He could feel a tingling sensation already from the ointment. He smiled at her and she blushed.

"Consider us even." Jarvan said, going to turn away. As he went to turn, he felt Shyvana's small hand clasp his, keeping him from turning away. He looked back. Shyvana stood there, her eyes on the ground, her hair pooling around her face.

"What happens now?"

Jarvan paused at her question. When he arrived at the monolith he had never considered all this could have happened in a few days' time. He had arrived with most of his men still alive and now he was left with only two left alive, one of which was impaired. Jarvan had never considered what could have happened, but now, things just seemed to stretch out in front of him, and the young Dragoness was in the midst of all of those plans.

"Now…" Jarvan paused. When he had arrived, he had still been lost, but now he had a new guiding light. He was ready to return to Demacia and discover what awaited him, but he had never truly considered how the young Dragoness would fit into that equation. He had just assumed she would follow him home, and he hadn't even thought to ask her if she wanted to some. "I head back to Demacia. I figured out what I needed to find in myself and now… I'm ready to head home and face the responsibility I abandoned when I set off on this useless journey."

"I don't think it was useless…." Shyvana said softly, tears welling in her eyes. She was afraid she was going to lose Jarvan, just like she had lost her father. She didn't think she could bear something like that again. "I got to meet you…" Her hand dropped away from his to her side and she began to take a step back.

"What was that?" Jarvan grabbed her hands in his and pulled her close to him. She shook her head, trying to clear the tears that clouded her eyes and hide them from his sight. "Why cry?" He raised a hand to her face and cupped her cheek. She nuzzled his hand and smiled weakly. He wiped away the tear that rolled down her cheek and he frowned.

"Nothing… I just…." She tried to turn away but Jarvan held her hand and her face.

"Please, return to Demacia with me." Jarvan said smiling. "I have some sway there. I can secure you a position in the military. A commission." Shyvana blinked the tears away, a smile spreading from her face to her eyes. Tears began to well in her eyes again and she closed them, smiling broadly.

"Yes!" She tossed her arms around Jarvan's neck and hugged him tight. Jarvan chuckled and drew her in, drawing her into a warm embrace.

"Thank you." She said, trying to hold her tears in. She had already cried so much in front of Jarvan, and that wasn't like her. She chuckled throatily between the sniffs as she tried to control her tears.

"Ahem." Jarvan froze as Isaacs coughed. Shyvana more or less jumped out of his arms, blushing furiously. Isaacs grinned knowingly at Jarvan, who couldn't help but blush and glance away nervously. Isaacs chuckled and waved a hand at them, turning towards Forsythe. He kicked his boot, the youth sitting up abruptly and trying to shake himself awake. He fumbled with the hilt of his sword, trying to draw it. He finally managed to draw the weapon and dopily waved it about. Isaacs shook his head, Shyvana hid a giggle and Jarvan sighed, running a hand back through his hair and looking skyward.

"Where's th' nemy." Forsythe mumbled. He paused, looked at his comrades standing around him and then sighed, laying back, grabbing at his head. "I feel like I just got kicked in the head." He groaned as he lazily rolled to his feet.

"The gash the prince patched up was pretty bad." Isaacs said as he hauled Forsythe to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. "Take it easy now." Isaacs hefted his pack and handed one to each Jarvan, Shyvana and Forsythe. Jarvan took the pack and set it at his feet, pulling the canteen from his belt. He motioned Shyvana closer and unhooked the soft sided canteen from her pack and then filled them both. He handed it back to Shyvana who fumbled with it for a few seconds and then managed to get it to hook onto her good hip. She was still a little bit unsteady on her feet, but from what few glances Jarvan had seen, the wounds were healing fast. Maybe a day at most and they'd be fully healed.

Forsythe yawned and tried to rub the sleep from his good eye. The large bandage still covered his face, and unlike Shyvana, his scar would take a few days to heal because he lacked the Draconian Blood in his veins. Isaacs helped the young soldier into his pack and then shrugged his own pack on. Jarvan helped Shyvana with her, then carefully pulled his own pack onto his back. He picked up his lance and nodded to himself.

"You young ones ready finally?" Isaacs said. He paused and shook his head at how crotchety he sounded. Shyvana smiled, and Jarvan and Forsythe chuckled. Isaacs had always acted like a father to the unit, and though he appeared cheerful and happy, Jarvan knew he was still devastated from the loss of his comrades.

"One moment." Jarvan said, pausing and turning. He bowed his head and raised his free hand in a fist across his chest. He took a deep breath and exhaled then raised his head to the sky. Shyvana paused and noticed that Forsythe and Isaacs had done the same.

"_Brauch uns, hilf uns, führe uns, leuchte uns._

_Denn wir laufen, laufen jederzeit._

_Wir ziehen weiter - immer weiter._

_Wirgehen vorwärs - immer bei dir."_

Though Shyvana could not understand the ancient words, she understood their meaning. She kept silent as the three soldiers prayed for the fallen comrades and cast them into the heavens. The silence that followed was swept away by a gust of wind, and after a few hallowed moments, Jarvan, Forsythe and Isaacs spun on one foot and headed for the stairs. Jarvan led the way with Isaacs bringing up the rear. Shyvana fell in just behind Jarvan, adjusting the pack on her shoulders as the proceeded to finally leave behind the monolith.

As they reached the bottom of the pass, Shyvana paused and looked back over her shoulder. She looked up at the ruined watch tower, now merely a sand blown testament to the Rune Wars and her father's legacy. Though she was not leaving it behind, she was now embarking on a new journey in her life, one that she believed would keep her busy for many years to come. She couldn't help but smile at Jarvan, the bandages she had tied peeking out from under the edge of this tunic and armor.

_Life was looking up. _Shyvana thought, still smiling to herself as she tried to keep from skipping.

* * *

Jarvan paused, looking at the ground. So far the trail of black blood had been fairly easy to follow, but as he and his party neared the northern entrance to Mogron Pass, the trail was becoming faint. It was going to prove difficult to track Kampf down. He frowned and looked up at the sky, raising his free hand to shield his eyes from the brilliant sunlight.

He had lost the trail of the dragon's blood almost a day prior, and he had been continuing along its previous direction. Jarvan and his party had been on the trail for a few days and were within half a day's walk to the entrance of the pass. Massive steps wound down around the edge of the Mount Targon, each step hundreds of feet wide and hundreds of feet deep. Through much of the pass Jarvan had been able to track the Beast by the blood and the drag marks along the ground. The injured dragon had been unable to take off, but he had a day's head start. Jarvan frowned and bent down, running a hand through the dust. He couldn't find any of the blood darkened sand.

"Blast." He spat, shaking his head. Their best tracker had been killed by the beast himself, almost securing his own escape. Jarvan scowled as he brushed dust from the steps, looking for any trail of the beast. "I've lost his trail." Jarvan stood, frowning at his own incompetence. Tempers were beginning to flare as the endless steps stretched out and the dust began to swirl around them, little twisters taunting them with simple patterns and swirls forming in the dust. Jarvan groaned and cracked his neck, frowning.

Shyvana crouched down and began sniffing, her nose out, trying to pick up the scent. Jarvan didn't want to ask, but he suspected that she would be able to pick up the scent if it was there. She could probably access her dragon's senses even in her human form. She was down on all fours now, her nose almost in the dust. She was still sniffing.

"What do you want to do, Sire?" Isaacs frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Forsythe continued moving forward down the steps, headed further towards the entrance to the pass possibly to find a better view. Not that there was much to see till they exited the pass, but they were getting close. The pine forests and bogs of the Demacian wilds would stretch out to the west of the sleepy mining town of Kalamanda, only a few miles north of the entrance to Mogron Pass. East were the plains of Noxus and the water ringed city.

"Achoo!" Shyvana sneezed and ended up sitting in the dust, rubbing her nose.

"Alright there, missy?" Isaacs asked, shifting the weight from one leg to another. Shyvana nodded as Jarvan helped haul her to her feet, the heavy pack giving her a bit of trouble.

"Yes, I'm fine." She said, brushing dust from her rear and her clothes. She shook dust from her hair, sending a storm of dust cascading to the ground. Satisfied she had removed most of the dust from her person, she turned to Jarvan, a frown clear on her face. "I have a faint trace of the scent of dragons blood and it seems that he was still headed directly north."

"We head north then." Jarvan said. "We might be able to pick up a tracker in the mining town."

"We also need some supplies." Isaacs said frowning. "The extras we were able to scrounge from our fallen comrades wasn't enough to account for our several day-… ah… _stopover_ at the watchtower." Jarvan knew Isaacs was choosing his words carefully around Shyvana. In the past few days, Jarvan had seen the hard old lieutenant soften towards the young Dragoness. She may have been half dragon, but she was already growing on him. Jarvan could appreciate the sentiments, he knew he cared for the Dragoness already.

"Agreed." Jarvan said, nodding his head. "We make for Kalamanda then."

"Woohoo, Civilization!" Forsythe shouted from ahead, pumping his fists in the air as he charged even further ahead.

"Aye, sir." Isaacs said. Jarvan stepped off the step he was perched on and tromped off down the steps to catch and explain to Forsythe. As he jogged off, his long strides carrying him forward at a great pace, Shyvana hung back. Isaacs took one step down and paused, not hearing the crunch of Shyvana's boots next to him. He turned and saw the young Dragoness looking nervous.

"Problem, young one?" Isaacs asked.

"I…" She frowned, looking down at the ground and ground her boot in the dirt. "I don't think I should go into the village."

Isaacs furrowed his brow, and scratched his head. "Now why would you think something like that?"

Shyvana looked up at him with a small smile, she blinked a few times, and looked up into Isaacs eyes. He involuntarily took a step back, the long reptilian slits reaching up and down her blood red irises. She blinked a few times, her brilliant magenta Irises returning. Isaacs gasped for breath; he hadn't even realized he had been holding it. Shyvana's eyes were sad, they didn't have their normal aggressive sheen. They almost seemed dull. Isaacs breathed deeply, trying to calm his heart. He had forgotten just what she was.

"Exactly." Shyvana said, sadly. "People tremble before the power of a dragon. There's no way I can make my way into civilization. I'll be nothing but an outcast again." Tears began to well in her eyes as she began to turn away. Isaacs grabbed her wrist but she tried to yank her arm free.

"Wait…" Isaacs struggled with her as her anger flared and the tensions snapped.

"Let go of me!" She roared and turned to lash out at Isaacs. He parried her arm and then ripping her wrist up, he spun her about. He reared his hand back and slapped her, back handed, full on. He let her go, and she stumbled back, falling on to her tail. She was stunned, her cheek burning the same shade as her hair.

"Shut up and listen." Isaacs said, kneeling down next to her. She opened her mouth to protest, but Isaacs glared at her. "I said listen. Not talk."

Shyvana frowned, but shut her mouth. Tears began to well in her eyes.

"No!" Isaacs said, grappling her shoulder and shaking her gently. "You musn't cry! A warrior of Demacia does NOT cry!" Shyvana brushed the tears from her eyes. "If you wish to stay by the Prince's side, you must become strong. You must grow strong and stand proud. A Demacian Warrior does not know fear and does not know pain. Justice is a right to every citizen of Valoran and as a Demacian, it is your job to help him to bring it to them." Isaacs gestured to the prince who was in the middle of a heated discussion with Forsythe.

"I don't know how clearly you understand it, but we don't just call him Prince for his regal attitude. He is Jarvan IV, of house Lightshield and Crown Prince of all of Demacia." Isaacs paused, and noted with satisfaction that Shyvana's eyes grew a bit wider and her mouth hung open a bit before she realized and clicked it shut. "If you wish to be his mate, youngin', you're going to have to work hard for it and not be afraid of what others will think of you." Shyvana blushed furiously at the thought, but deep inside of her, something clicked. Something fluttered in her chest at the idea of becoming mates with the Prince.

"But I'm…" She began to say.

"What, half dragon?" Isaacs poked her in the shoulder again. He wiped a tear from her cheek with a thumb. "You're also half human, young dragoness, or maybe I should call you 'young mistress' now?" Isaacs grinned as a smile began to spread onto her face. "You're as much human as any Demacian I know; we all tend to have a bit of a beast inside of us." He clicked an armored gauntlet off his chest plate. Shyvana nodded at him, the gleam having returned to her eyes. "If you are pure of intention, and I know the Prince can see it in you, some day, I may be callin' you Queen." Issacs said with a crooked grin.

Shyvana's minder fluttered at such an incredible thought.

"I may be nothing more than a lowly Lieutenant, but I'm also proud to serve the Prince and call him a friend." Isaacs gestured to the prince again. "I know I can trust my life in his hands, and he seems to think that He can trust his life in yours so…" Isaacs stuck out a hand. "I'll put my trust in your hands as well, young one." Shyvana looked hesitantly at his hand but after a few brief moments, she clasped his hand and he hauled her to her feet.

"Please, my name is Shyvana." She said, smiling prettily.

"You can call me Valin if you wish." He said, brushing some dust from her cloak. "Or 'El-Tee', 'Isaacs' or even just 'Val' if you wish." He stepped off at a slow pace, making sure Shyvana fell into step beside him. She did, matching his strides with a bit more of a spring in her step than before.

"As you wish, LT." She said with a mischevious grin. The aging Isaacs quickened his pace, already wondering if he was going to have to defuse another situation between Jarvan and Forsythe. As they closed the distance with the Prince and the soldier, he could begin to make out parts of the argument.

"…and that's why we should head straight through town and continue on tracking the beast after a brief stop." Jarvan forcing his voice to stay calm, his temper threatening to flare. Jarvan wore a calm and collect expression, but underneath his anger was threatening to boil over as well.

"Why the hell can't we stay a few days in Kalamanda?" Forsythe growled. "We've been away from any sort of human civilization for almost a month."

"We are going to head into the village, find ourselves a tracker, get some supplies and then I want both you and Shyvana to get your wounds checked out by a healer." Jarvan said, prodding the younger soldier in the chest. "Then we're headed out."

"It's not like we'll lose the dragon's trail!" Forsythe blurted out, his brow furrowed.

"We've already lost it." Isaacs interjected with a sigh. Forsythe turned and gave Shyvana a haughty look before turning to spit the Lieutenant with a glare. Isaacs glared back with just as much intensity, the younger soldier not one to act so brashly. "I don't know about you, but you're no tracker."

"If only Shore hadn't and gotten himself killed." Forsythe spat angrily. "Cause you're not a trac-…" Forsythe tumbled end over end, ending up sprawled in the dust. Isaacs stood with his feet shoulder width apart, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared as his chest heaved with heavy breaths, his fist extended to its full reach.

"And neither are you!" Isaacs shouted. Forsythe was taken aback as he lay on the ground, clutching at his cheek. Even Jarvan stood stunned. The lieutenant may have been the most senior of the small party, but in his entire martial career with Jarvan, the prince had only seen him lose his temper a handful of times. Isaacs scowled and stormed off down the steps, his long strides now driven by anger as he left the group in his wake. Jarvan sighed, running a hand down in face.

Shyvana frowned, but extended a hand towards the young soldier to help him up. She didn't know who 'Shore' was but it seemed to be someone important to the Lieutenant. Forsythe looked up at her and with a sneer, he batted away her hand and pushed himself to his feet. He spun on his heel and stormed off down the steps, following in Isaacs' wake.

"What just happened…" Jarvan said, shaking his head. He cracked his knuckles and picked up his lance, a frown on his face. He stepped off, headed down towards the foothills that led towards the village.

"I'm not quite sure." She said, falling into step with him as they moved off towards the village. She raised her hands above her head, clasping behind her hand and kicking her feet out with each step, a smile on her face, despite Forsythe's foul mood.

"What did you and Isaacs talk about." Jarvan asked after a few minutes of walking.

"Not much." She said, smiling sweetly at Jarvan. "Just a few words of encouragement I guess you could say." Jarvan frowned but shrugged it off. He hissed at the effort, the pain from the burn on his back still considerable. "Besides, I think you need a healer more than I do." She said, gingerly tapping his shoulder. She turned sideways, sidestepping as she leaned forward to look up at him from closer, frowning. Jarvan tried to keep his frown, but he cracked a grin as Shyvana as she stumbled sideways. She covered her mouth as she broke into a fit of giggles. Jarvan tried to hold his own chuckles back, but he soon broke into a full on fit of laughter. Shyvana did as well, the sound sweet and wholesome in Jarvan's ears. After those tense moments, the sounds were like a healing salve that filled his veins.

Jarvan could feel the tension in the air left from behind both Forsythe and Isaacs, but Shyvana, her laughter and very presence seemed to cut through the mirth and hatred that hung in the air. It was captivating.

_She was captivating. _Jarvan strode with a bit more confidence as he thought about it. _About her._

Jarvan nearly fell forward as he stepped off the last step into the foothills surrounding Kalamanda and realized something.

_I'm falling for her._


	6. Chapter 6: Brawl

Jarvan paused at the threshold to the sleepy mining town of Kalamanda. It was strange returning after over a year, but almost nothing in the little hamlet had changed. Prospectors roamed the rocky outcroppings and panned in the mineral laden pools that formed when water rushed down the jagged cliff sides bringing sediment down with them. Hundreds of miners had come to Kalamanda looking to strike it rich, but very few actually did.

Jarvan planted one foot under the arch that signaled the out edge of the village and glanced at the guardsmen who was posted there. The small village only had a cursory town watch, but the lone guardsman eyed Jarvan surreptitiously. Jarvan followed his gaze along his lance and then he met eyes with the guardsman for a few brief moments. He nodded at Jarvan and with a raised a hand lazily to his head, he flicked the uniform cap up by the bill, giving Jarvan a last cursory glance.

"Your compatriot told me to direct you towards the inn." The guardsman finally said, his gaze turning toward Shyvana. Jarvan noted several times that his gaze stuck to certain aspects of her a bit more that he cared for, but Jarvan refrained from growling. She paused, a few steps ahead of Jarvan and turned back. The guard had opened his mouth to say something further, but when he met eyes with Shyvana, his words failed him. Her brilliant Magenta eyes tended to have that effect, even on Jarvan.

"Something to say?" She asked, gesturing to him with her chin. She looked down her nose at him, her manor cool and almost hostile. The guardsman shook his head and gestured towards the town.

"Phalon's is the place you'll be looking for." He said. "Big place, you can't miss it." Jarvan nodded his thanks and ushered Shyvana into the village.

"What was that about?" She finally asked when they were out of earshot of the Guard.

"I'm not sure." Jarvan said with a frown.

_Whatever it is, I don't like it._

Shyvana fell into stride with him, her hand brushing against his a few times as they walked. The village was quiet, smoke rising from chimneys and lanterns just beginning to be lit in the windows of many of the houses as the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the town's cobblestone streets. There were colorful timber houses with shingle and thatched roofs, and closed up vender's stalls littering the market as they passed through. Roughhewn stone building lined the main thoroughfare, some businesses, and some private residencies. As Jarvan and Shyvana entered the town square, Jarvan noticed the odd glances and stares he was receiving. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

The Town Square had a large statue in the middle, a gorgeous marble goddess draped in a fine dress. Water flowed from an urn she held aloft over her head, spilling down her form into a pool at her feet. Directly across the circular marketplace that made up the town center, a large building with a steep roof and many chimneys rose up from the paving cobbles. That was undoubtedly then inn, the wear and tear on its roughhewn stone base easily identified it as one of the many older structures in the square. A small hanging sign above the door with the name 'Phalon's Inn' accented the sign in faded red lettering.

"These people are staring." Shyvana said quietly, only barely leaning in towards Jarvan as she did. They were winding their way through closed stalls in the market place, where peddlers and farmers sold their produce and wares during the day. Other traveler and resident passing through he market place all slowed to a stop as Jarvan and Shyvana passed by, giving them a wide berth. Jarvan nodded silently to the few that caught his gaze and quickly beckoned Shyvana ahead of him, following in her wake towards the inn.

Shyvana pushed the door open and stepped through the portico and down a few steps into a noisy tavern. Tables and drunkards lined the room from wall to wall, a bar and probably a kitchen on one side of the room with stairs and a hallway leading off into the rest of the building and a Massive Fireplace on the opposite side of the room. The fire was small tonight, but Jarvan suspected the mighty hearth could handle great, roaring flames that would heat the entire room in the colder months. The dark Tavern had fallen silent for a few moments, but seeing as the two new occupants were less than lethal, the rest of the tavern's patrons returned to their drinks albeit with hushed tones at the sight of Jarvan's lance.

Jarvan scanned the room and saw Isaacs at a table off to one side. Pointing Shyvana in the right direction, Jarvan set off through the packed Tavern, doing his best not to strike or disturb the other patrons. Isaacs waved them over and kicked a pair of seats out across from him.

"Not the friendliest lot, eh?" Isaacs asked after a long pull from his ale. Jarvan raised his hand at the Bartender who sent one of the barmaids over to serve them. Jarvan noted happily that she definitely lacked in both looks and charm compared to Shyvana.

"No, they don't appear to be." Jarvan said, settling into his seat and eyeing the crowd. He could feel quite a few gazes being drawn towards him and he wasn't exactly appreciating all the sudden attention. He suspected it came from his lance. Most of the Noxians carried axes and Demacian their Lances, so he started to wonder exactly what the town lean towards now.

"What can I get for you?" The young girl asked. She looked to be about 15 or so, probably the owner's daughter. She was bespeckled with freckles and had wavy brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore a long black skirt but a bright blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up. She held her hair from her eyes with a checker handkerchief.

"Two of those." Jarvan said, gesturing to what Isaacs was taking a pull from. The barmaid nodded and headed to fetch their drink. Jarvan sighed, leaning his lance against the wall between him and the table, his pack resting on the floor underneath the table. Shyvana dropped her own pack and fell into the seat beside Jarvan.

"My feet are killing me." Shyvana said, sighing as she let her chin fall to her arms, crossed on the table. "We've been walking for days." She groaned, closing her eyes.

"You can't be tired after just that." Isaacs said, grinning. Shyvana opened one eye and looked up at him with a goofy grin. "Shoot, I knew you were just being overly dramatic." Jarvan smiled at the banter.

"We may want to get some horses though." Jarvan said, perching his chin on his palm. "Who knows how far north Kampf went." He fingered a lock of his own hair, tapping it lightly, a small shower of dust descending down to the table. He sighed and wiped it away onto the floor.

"I doubt that he'll go too far north." Shyvana said frowning. "Dragons prefer rocky terrain and mountains." She paused, sitting back, rocking the chair back on two legs. "I don't know exactly how far north it would be to similar terrain, but I don't expect Kampf would be willing or capable to go far in his current condition. Judging from the blood and drag marks we saw the first day, you did a fair amount of damage to him." She said, tapping Jarvan on his shoulder pauldron. Jarvan smiled as server set their drinks on the table. He picked up the drink and swigged part of the beverage straight down, leaving some of the froth on his lip. Shyvana giggled at him as she took a pull off her own ale. Jarvan shook his head, rolling his eyes as she dropped her mug, froth crowning the tip of her nose.

"Well that certainly narrows down the search area." Isaacs said, shrugging. He downed the last of his ale and then stood, stretching his back. "Anyways, I'm going to head off and talk to Forsythe about earlier, I still feel pretty bad about hitting him. Oh, and here's your room key. Make sure and get some sleep tonight." He tossed the key to Shyvana and waved over his shoulder as he dropped a small copper piece on the bar. He disappeared into the hallways leading away from the tavern.

"Wait did he say 'room key'?" Jarvan shook his head. He knocked back another pull on his ale. Shyvana raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. "I don't plan on getting that drunk." He hid his blushed cheeks by knocking back more of his ale.

"I-…" Shyvana blinked and froze, her eyes narrowing. "Heads up." Jarvan raised his gaze as the door burst open and heavy set men barged into the already crowded pub. Jarvan went rigid as he recognized their black and red uniforms.

"Noxians." He spoke quietly, turning back to the table, raising his hand and signaling the barkeep for another drink and then tossing off the rest of his ale. "I'm so not in the mood for this." He sighed, leaning heavily on his hand.

"Break out all the drinks!" the Noxian Sergeant shouted, a smug grin plastered across his already half drunken face. "Break out all the food!"

"BREAK OUT ALL THE WOMEN!" The group bellowed as a whole as they piled into the room and slammed the door behind him. Jarvan didn't recognize their uniforms from the standard Noxian colors, their blood red and jet black uniforms different from the normal dark grey and crimson.

"Ugh, these trash…" Jarvan murmured, turning back around to his mug, shaking his head.

"Keep your voice down." A cloaked figure hissed, a frown on her face as she slid into the seat across from Shyvana, her hood hiding her face. Jarvan looked at her with half-closed eyes and frowned at the young lady. "You really don't want to piss them off."

Jarvan vaguely remembered reading reports about the Noxian Military dogs that wandered the neutral lands trying to get by. The Noxian Military had a reputation as criminals, extorting whatever they wanted out of the residents of wherever they found themselves. People had pushed for trials against them, but every time a case was opened, be it rape, murder, pillaging or thievery, the ones pushing for the case to go through disappeared. Everyone in Noxus, even everyone in Demacia, knew what was happening, but no one was willing to do anything about it. Jarvan had briefly lobbied for a movement to protect the Demacian people, but at the risk of war, all that could be done was running them out of whatever village they were terrorizing. Due to ceasefire terms, Demacia couldn't leave garrisons in any of the neutral border towns.

"Bartender, drinks for everyone." The Noxian Officer shouted, kicking a young busser over. The young man picked himself up and turned away, not willing to risk his life. He quickly left, getting clear of the trouble and hiding away into the kitchen before it could get any worse. "Coward!" The officer yelled to jeers from his men as others scattered before them.

"I'm not liking the look of this." The cloaked woman said, frowning as she leaned on the table. The officer had begun to make rounds, roving about the table of the tavern. Jarvan watched her draw a crossbow from her hip and checking that the magazine was full. Jarvan shook his head discreetly, gesturing at the weapon.

"No weapons." He said quietly.

"What?" The cloaked figure said, pouting. "You're Demacian, aren't you?" She looked at Jarvan from under her hood. Golden eyes flashed something dangerous, and Jarvan creased his brow in a lazy frown.

"And you?" Shyvana said, frowning as the hooded figure's gaze lay upon Jarvan for a bit too long for her comfort.

"We Demacians are no easy prey." She said frowning. Jarvan eyed the oddly shaped gauntlet on her right arm. She put a hand to her chest. "Born and raised." Jarvan eyed her up, judging her appearance. She had hardened leather armor, going for the light weight rather than the protection offered by steel of other materials. Her crossbow hinted at her desire to stay out direct combat and it told him she wouldn't be too much help in the brawl he could feel brewing in the bar. He pegged her as a ranger or wildsman, but he couldn't be sure.

"Where are the women!?" the Noxian Officer shouted. "I demand women!" He bellowed, looking around the room. He was a hulking man, easily seven feet tall, pure muscle and nothing but brawn. What he seemed to lack in brain power, he made up for in pure physical strength.

"You know this clown?" Jarvan asked the hooded Demacian girl, tossing back another deep pull on his ale.

"The man is the leader of a troupe of Noxian Legionnaires, named Bartholomew or just 'Bart' to his close friends." She said quietly, fidgeting in her seat. "In reality he doesn't have any friends, only men who are too afraid to do anything but go along with his crap and follow his lead."

"You seem familiar with him." Shyvana said, eyeing the beefy mercenary with trepidation. "Gotten into trouble with him before?"

"We've had a few run-ins, yes." She said nervously. Jarvan could see her cheeks turn a bit red in the shadows of her hood. Bart was moving in and about the crowded tavern, eyeing up the females. The Barmaids had already retreated to the kitchen, seeking shelter there. Jarvan tensed as Bart's gaze fell on his table and he began moving towards them.

"Why hide, you pretty little thing." Bart said, setting his hand on Shyvana's shoulder.

"Hands off." Jarvan grunted, still leaning on his hand, his eyes closed.

"What'd you say?" Bart growled, turning his attention away from Shyvana and settling his gaze on Jarvan. Jarvan sighed.

"I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal with this rubbish." Jarvan growled. Shyvana sighed heavily and tossed off most of the rest of her ale in a single go.

"Mind if I take care of him then?" Shyvana said, a wide grin spreading on her face. Jarvan opened an eye and frowned, sighing again.

"Try not to make a mess." Jarvan said, lifting his mug to his mouth and taking a swig of the now warm ale.

"I'll deal with you shortly." He said, eyeing Shyvana's chest with excitement. "Just need to take out the trash."

Jarvan snorted at the threat.

"You're a ballsy little puke, aren't you?" Bart muttered, cracking his knuckles. Jarvan raised his free hand and formed a fist, his middle finger sticking straight up in an archaic and rude gesture. There was a collective intake of breaths from all of Bart's men, and the entire tavern seemed to freeze, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

"I've got a pair at least." Jarvan said, opening his eyes and spitting the Noxian with a cold stare. He seemed taken aback at first, but slowly his surprise turned to a shivering rage.

"You're going to regret that…" He roared as he cocked his fist back and swung over Shyvana's head aiming for Jarvan, but Shyvana had stepped between them already and had raised an arm, diverting his punch. His fist only crashed through the wooden table sending drinks flying and empty tankards clattering to the ground. He drew his hand back, his face blank, taking a step away from Shyvana. "Wha…"

Shyvana dropped down onto her hands and in a whirl of her cloak and red hair, swept Bart's feet backwards out from under him, and then hopped, tucking her feet under herself. She extended her legs and struck upwards with her fist in a rising strike, smashing his teeth as she struck Bart under the jaw and lofting him into the air. His head snapped back and his entire body was thrown into the air, getting knocked clear off his feet. He hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before gravity finally kicked in, dumping him onto a neighboring table. People went scampering for cover, the clatter of falling tankards, tinkling broken glass, and overturned chairs filling the tavern.

"You just had to go and spill my drink, didn't you…" Shyvana said, licking blood from her knuckles. Her voice was almost a purr, and her eyes blinking away the crimson reptilian slits. She sighed and cracked her knuckles, shaking the kinks from her fingers. "You're not only stupid but you're slow as well."

"What the hell…" The hooded figure breathed with wide eyes. Her hood had been knocked back revealing dark hair that was flattened back against her head, held in place with a piece of cloth. Jarvan stood, his chair scraping the ground as he rose, a grin on his face. He cracked his neck and pulled his helmet off, hanging it on his lance. Jarvan turned to her.

"Stick around, I need to clean up some trash." Jarvan stepped forward and swung his arm out, clotheslining a Noxian who was making a beeline for Shyvana from the side. The man was gasping for breath as he writhed on the ground, Jarvan's boot on his chest. "Watch yourself, Shyvana." Jarvan said with a grin as he settled into a fighting stance.

"Who, me?" She said, batting her eyelashes at a few of the Noxians. They looked stunned for a few moments, letting Shyvana streak in and grab them by their collars. She lifted one with one hand while the other struggled against her grasp. He tossed him across the room, sending him crashing into a table and then drawing back to strike the other.

"Heads up!" Jarvan shouted as he ducked below a Noxian's blade-led charge. He stepped inside the mercenary's charge and grabbed his collar. He hauled him up and over his shoulders, spinning his body only slightly, sending him flying across the tavern. Shyvana ducked him, just barely, dragging the Mercenary she was still holding into the path of the other flying soldier and let them tumble to the floor in a knot. She grinned at Jarvan as he ducked another charge and pummeled the man's blade hand. He hissed, dropping the blade and jumped back out of striking distance.

Jarvan pressed up against Shyvana's back as the enemies closed in a circle around them. They came slower this time, keeping the two of them in place as Bart shook the blow off, his head spinning. He had struggled to his feet, and now he looked unsteady at best.

"Bloody hell…" He muttered, spitting blood on the floor. Jarvan and Shyvana noted with satisfaction that there were a few teeth mixed in as well. Shyvana grinned prettily batting her eye coutishly as she whipped her hair back behind her. Jarvan chuckled, smiling. "Who are these bastards?" Bart said, pausing.

"Demacians." One of his men chimed in, gesturing to the emblem that held the cloak on Shyvana's shoulders.

"Oh good." Bart mused, cracking his knuckles. "Now I can get paid to beat the shit out of you." He grinned as he waved a few of his men forward.

Jarvan stepped forward to meet them. He waved them forward and ducked down and to the left, away from Shyvana as the enemy came. Jarvan dodged left and then parried his knife blow. He hit the man with a body shot to the gut, and then stepped in and further to the left, landing another left and right body shots. Jarvan spun, tossing his cloak into the air, and spinning away as the other mercenary charged. He snapped the clasp that held the cloak in place and the man bumbled forward, lashing out trying to remove the cloak. Jarvan dropped the man with an elbow to the top of his spine. The other man had righted himself and was charging again now. Jarvan stepped back, letting him take an extra step further in his lunge, leaving him off balance. Jarvan grabbed his collar and hauled him forward, clenching the mercenaries arm in his armpit. Jarvan spun his body, the sound of the man's arm breaking echoing through the tavern. Jarvan spun the opposite way, bringing his arm across in a wide, openhanded strike. The blow sent the man tumbling with a smashed jaw.

Shyvana had three men fanning out around her, closing in towards her, their weapons held out. One charged and Shyvana grabbed the weapon and hauled him over top of her, rolling onto her back. She tucked her knees into her chest and kicked out as she rolled, sending him sprawling onto his head, smashed against the wall. She had to quickly dodge right then left as one of the remaining two jabbed at her rapidly with his sword. She clasped her hands together on either side of the blade and had to nearly fall backwards again to keep the blade from piercing her chest. She settled back onto her feet as the soldier tugged on his blade, unable to free it from Shyvana's grasp. She grinned wickedly, bearing long fangs as the blade began to glow red hot, the metal beginning to melt in his hand as she poured immense amounts of heat through her palms. He screamed and dropped the superheated blade as it melted through her fingers. She pushed off, launching into the air, striking his nose with her knee. She landed on her feet and spun, launching a high roundhouse kick that sent the third man flying. His eyes were still glued on Shyvana's fierce face.

Shyvana clapped her hands together, wiping the dust from them as she turned back to Jarvan. The mercenary she had initially flipped was struggling to her feet and Shyvana clocked him in the back of the head, sending him falling back to the floor. She rolled her head, cracking her neck, one hand massaging her shoulder at the same time.

She yawned, showing off her viciously long fangs. She caught Bart staring at her fangs and smiled cruelly at him, licking her lips. Bart took a step backwards, stumbling backwards and ending up on his tail. Jarvan stepped forward, his boot falling heavily between his legs. Bart stumbled backward, nearly rolling backwards. He scampered backwards, trying to put more distance between them. Jarvan hauled him to his feet, hefting Bart by the collar of his jacket.

"Do you know who I am?" Jarvan asked menacingly. Bart's face was turning blue, as Jarvan held him there. Bart shook his head weakly as Jarvan, who barely came up to his nose lifted him free standing.

"N-no…." Bart struggled to say.

"My name is Jarvan Lightshield IV." Jarvan said drawing him in close to his face. "And you, my dumb friend, managed to piss me off when you came on to my ward." Jarvan gently gestured to Shyvana over his right shoulder. Jarvan dropped Bart and brought his knee up into his gut. Bart collapsed onto the floor, retching. He hunched over, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach. Jarvan sighed and turned away.

"Well that was fun." Jarvan said, grinning at Shyvana.

Jarvan heard the scuffle and the sound of a blade getting drawn from her sheath and saw the reflection in Shyvana's eye as Bart came up behind him with a knife drawn. Jarvan spun, kicking his lance with the tip of his boot, sending it falling into his waiting hand. Jarvan took two steps and spun into the arc of Bart's charge, leading with a high left kick that smashed Bart's face in and stunned him. He planted his foot and followed with a quick tap to the temple with the pommel of his lance as he brought the weapon back and followed up by striking Bart in the chest with the pommel in a full on strike. As Bart stumbled backwards, Jarvan shifted his right foot forward and swung his lance wide. He struck Bart with the blunt side of his lance. Jarvan brought his feet together as Bart launched into a blind rage induced series of rapid thrusts, Jarvan merely spinning his blade and knocking the blows aside. The last of the spins struck Bart's hand, shredding his fingers and sending the bloody knife skittering across the floor away from him. Jarvan took a quickstep back, launching himself into the air on the second step spinning left. He brought the tip of his boot crashing into Bart's temple and then the lance, following Jarvan's spin, brushed along his chest. The razor sharp lance cut deeply along Bart's chest, the gash stretching from the crook on his elbow across his chest to his shoulder. Jarvan landed and with a flourish, spinning his blade behind him back into his right hand, planting the lance at his side.

Bart collapsed in a pool of blood on the ground.

Silence filled the room for a few moments as people slipped their heads out from behind cover and people ducked out from behind the bar and the tables that they up ended to hide behind.

"It's over now." Jarvan announced, putting his boot up on of the legs of his overturned chair. "Somebody call the constable." He put weight on the leg and the chair jumped up to meet his hand. He spun as he set the chair right side up, dropping back into his chair. He tapped the table a few times as Shyvana pulled up one of the intact chairs in the dim light of the now silent tavern.

A cheer erupted from tavern around them, completely catching Jarvan and Shyvana by surprise. They were flabbergasted as a torrent of thanks and pats on the back and cheers came from all directions, assaulting them and leaving both of them speechless. Drinks and shaken hands and congratulations were shoved upon them in an endless river.

The next hour was all a blur as Jarvan and Shyvana were both fed and poured drink after drink. Jarvan enjoyed the company, as many of the small town Demacian farmers and miners, and even some of the Noxian miners who had been fed up with Bart and his men's oppression. The men seemed drawn to Shyvana's almost exotic charm and relative innocence, her face blushed from all the attention and compliments. Jarvan hadn't been sure about whether they had seen her dragon side surfacing, but many of the men and women just assumed she was a young, battle hardened mage. As their night came to an end, Jarvan and Shyvana were ushered up to their room, buffered on by assurances from the town constabulary that Bart and his men would be well taken care of and escorted to the jail. The Barkeep and owner had assured him that as thanks, their drinks and room was on the house, and the damages would be taken from Bart and his men's funds.


	7. Chapter 7: Tracker

As Jarvan carefully stumbled up the steps, he was doing his best to support Shyvana, trying to keep himself from falling and bumping the young dragoness into anything. He finally found their room and fumbled with door key. He opened the door wide and stumbled in, the room swimming around him. He froze, scowling at the underhanded Isaacs. In the room, a single large bed was against the far wall. He carefully set Shyvana on the bed, her face blushed with the alcohol and the heat of her own excitement. She slumped backwards, sprawling out over the bed, her mouth agape in a wide smile.

"Lightweight…" Jarvan slurred with much effort, a goofy grin on his face.

"Shu… up…" Shyvana mumbled as she rolled over. Jarvan noted with mild satisfaction that their packs had been brought up to the room. As he stripped down out of his armor, Jarvan heard a few clunks and thuds as Shyvana shucked her armor. He caught a full view of her pale backside as she ducked underneath he covers and pulled the blankets high above her head, the cold night air pouring through the open window.

Jarvan sat on the edge of the bed, letting the cool night air sober him. He closed his eyes and sat there with his hands perched upon his knees pensively, considering what exactly he had been presented with and how to best handle the situation. He was both simultaneously cursing and blessing Isaacs, but it was a spine chillingly set of cold fingers on his back caused a jolt of electricity to run up and down his body. He looked over his shoulder to see a pair of vibrant magenta orbs looking up at him from under the edge of the blanket.

"You look conflicted." Shyvana slurred, a small frown creasing her brow.

"And you look exhausted." Jarvan said, smiling drunkenly. Shyvana yawned, trying to hide it with the back of her hand. She blinked a few times and nodded.

"I feel exhausted." She said with grin. She rolled over and pulled the blankets to her chin. "You going to join me?" Jarvan considered it for a few moments, but now was neither the time nor the place for such things. They had just kicked the tar out of a platoon of a squad of Noxian Legionnaires and he did not exactly want to get caught in a moment of passion with his pants down when the Noxians came calling.

"I think I'm going to take in some of the night air." Jarvan said.

"Suit yourself." Shyvana said, a pixie-like grin appearing on her face. "I'm cold though, are you _sure_ you wouldn't like to keep me warm?" As attractive as the thought of getting tangled in an embrace with the gorgeous young dragoness under the covers was becoming, Jarvan knew that it wouldn't be good for either of them. It had been less than a week, and while many of his conquests at the academy had burned just a bright, like a nova, they burned extremely hot then fizzled. This flame they had now was something he didn't want to risk for a single night.

"Yes, I'm sure." Jarvan said with a tired grin. He paused with as Shyvana looked at him for a few more moments. "You must think me crazy." He snorted.

"A bit." She said, sighing. "Though your stubbornness is endearing." Jarvan had never heard it described as 'endearing' before, usually it was 'aggravating', 'annoying', or 'frustrating'. He blinked a few times, trying to remember if he had heard her correctly.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said quietly, batting her eyes at him as she set hand on his arm.

"Hmm?" He said glancing at the floor.

"Could you close the window on your way out?" Jarvan chuckled and nodded, rising to his feet and stepping into his armored boots. He tossed a cloak over his bare shoulders and clasped his boots, shut the door and walked towards the door. "Thanks." Shyvana said from the bed.

"For what, the window?" Jarvan said as he pulled the window shut and latched it closed.

"No, just… all of this." Shyvana said, sitting up and holding the blankets to her chest. "Tonight was amazing… and I don't think I'd have ever experienced anything like it if it weren't for you."

Jarvan chuckled.

"Now that's just the alcohol talking." Jarvan said. "Get some sleep." Shyvana nodded at him and fell back twisting up under the covers. Jarvan wondered if he was making a mistake turning her down, but he didn't think that even Shyvana knew what she was asking about. He tugged at the bandages briefly that were still wrapped around his shoulders underneath his cloak and couldn't help but smiling. He slid a blade into one of his boots and then slid out the door, pulling it closed behind him and locking it.

Jarvan proceeded upwards towards to roof, exploring the now quiet inn. The only sounds were the light _thunk-chink_ of his boots as they softly hit the floor boards. He made his way towards the upper floors of the Inn and found a door that was ajar, leading to the roof. He drew his knife, holding it behind his back and slowly pushing the door open, stepping onto the small balcony. Perched on the railing of the balcony was the young girl from the Tavern, a rare Demacian Eagle perched on her arm. The bird turned to him and cocked its head, its golden eye blinking at him eerily in the moon light. The Demacian eagle's feathers ruffled in the light of the moon, a deep midnight blue.

"Come for a breath of fresh air, prince?" The girl said, eyeing the knife he held in one hand. Her own golden eyes followed him closely as he scratched the back of his head with his free hand, sighing.

"Yes." Jarvan said, moving to the railing. He leaned on it heavily, the humidity in the air so high that one couldn't breathe it so much as drink it. He closed his eyes, letting the cool humidity wash over him. He opened one eye and looked at the young girl. She was still staring at him. She matched his gaze evenly.

"Why are you here?" She asked suddenly. Jarvan sighed, blowing a cloud of stem out in front of him. He was getting used to answering that question, though the answer had changed since the last time he had to answer it.

"We're just passing through." Jarvan said. "We are… ah… were tracking a Dragon." He noted that the girl's eyes had narrowed.

"And why exactly is the missing Demacian Crown Prince, two of his men and a Half-dragon commoner tracking a dragon?" She asked, spitting him with a stare.

"What does it matter that I'm travelling with two of my men and a half dragon?" Jarvan snapped back, barely slurring his words.

"Rumor has it that you left Demacia unannounced with twelve men in tow." She said, perching her hand on her palm, still glaring at him. "So you're telling me you lost ten men?" She said with disgust. Jarvan turned to her, his foot slamming down with enough force to shake the entire balcony. The Tracker shrunk back, fear in her eyes as Jarvan glared at her, rage contorting his face.

"That Dragon, that draconian scum, killed my men and I want his head on a pike to pay for his crimes!" Jarvan snapped, ice cold. His steely reaction startled the girl who had been stroking the Demacian Eagle. "_Shyvana_, not '_that half-dragon_' lost her father to that dragon as well, and she fought against him with more passion in her than any Demacian warrior I had ever seen. She is returning to Demacia with me at _MY_ request to join the Demacian Military. I saw her strength and now I want to help her kill the Dragon that slayed her father." The eagle had yet to tear his eyes from the Prince. Silence filled the gap for a few minutes as Jarvan calmed himself and breathed deeply. "Sorry about that." He said after a long while.

"I can see that's not all you want from her." She said with a sly grin. Jarvan glowered at her and sighed.

"You want to make something personal?" Jarvan growled weakly.

"That's not what I meant." She said, giggling. She leaned forward. "I may be young, but even I can see the way she looks at you."

"Not you too…" He groaned. "Everyone has been riding me about that and it's not like that."

"Yet?" She said, smirking, her smile spreading to his eyes. "And everybody has been riding you but her?"

"Bite your tongue." Jarvan snapped, shooting her a mean glare. "It hasn't exactly been an easy ride." She snickered at his unintentional joke.

"So, you weren't drunk at all." She said with a small grin after sobering herself from her laughter.

"I was a bit tipsy." Jarvan said, sighing. "But I know to keep myself under control. I also know when to make myself appear drunk."

The young girl snorted.

"You're a bit more capable than I thought." Jarvan sighed again.

"And you, you're a Ranger, aren't you?" Jarvan said, eyeing the eagle again. The young girl eyed the eagle briefly and nodded at Jarvan. The bird turned his head and snapped at her.

"Ah! Valor!" She squeaked as the Eagle flapped his wings rapidly at her. "I…" The bird turned his head away from her and the girl looked a bit saddened when he did. Her shoulders heaved in a long sigh. He frowned, looking away. "No, I'm not a ranger." Jarvan frowned. She smiled brightly at him, dimpling prettily. "I want to be a Ranger, though."

Jarvan paused, looking at her carefully. She had sharp golden eyes and a slim nose, with sharp eyes that were delicately perched above her eyes. Jarvan looked back into her eyes, the bright golden orbs steadied on him. They were both cold and calculating, as if she had seen too much tragedy in her already short life time. The accented her face well, and Jarvan suspected that when she grew up, she'd a beautiful woman. He eyed her equipment slowly, starting with her boots. She wore lightweight leather grieves that ran up to her knees, a leather holster holding her crossbow at her waist. She had lightweight leather plating on her chest, hips and shoulders. It was hardened leather material from what Jarvan could see, and aside from her thighs and her shooting arm. She had an intricate leather guard on her right arm where the eagle, Valor, sat perched, his eyes back on Jarvan now.

"How good of a tracker are you?" Jarvan asked. Her ears perked up at the question, her eyes narrowing.

"The best in the region." She said proudly, dropping down off the railing and standing proud. She barely came up to his chest. Jarvan stood up next to her and looked down his nose at her.

"Ever tracked a dragon?" Jarvan asked crossing his arms.

"No…" She said, looking over her shoulder. "I don't think it'll be too hard." Jarvan followed her gaze over his shoulder as her voice trailed off. "Valor." She whispered. The bird snapped its head directly over his shoulder and took off over the building. The young wannabe ranger stepped briskly towards Jarvan gently pressing her arm with Valor's perch against his chest pressing him back towards the door.

"What is it?" Jarvan whispered, as she shoved him silently back towards the door. She pushed him through and then pulled the door barely closed, leaving just a sliver of a crack. She pushed her a finger to her lips. Jarvan heard a heavy _thunk_ of two boots and then a much lighter pair of _clicks _landing out on the balcony.

"What the hell was Bart thinking?" A voice spat. A man's voice, a deep draw and a heavy timbre.

"He chose to pick a fight with the wrong person." The other said with a smirk audible in her voice. Jarvan recognized the voice but he couldn't place it. "That fat pig of a legionnaire was a corrupt bastard anyways." A pause followed with what Jarvan could only assume was a shrug from the female voice. "The Demacian Prince did us a favor."

"You could say that." The male voice said thoughtfully after a few minutes. "It could prove problematic in the long run." A grunt followed.

Another pause.

"What's the word on the Prince and his trophy bitch?" The male voice said. The female voice snickered. Jarvan heard a rustle of a cloak that he could assume was a shrug.

"Drunken, probably screwing themselves senseless right now." The female said. "I had a few people make sure they were completely tanked before they went to their room."

Jarvan felt his face burn with anger as the young tracker looked over her shoulder at him with a recusing look on her face. She glared at him, and Jarvan shook his head taking a deep breath. He resisted the urge to sigh and gestured back to the door. The tracker hung her head, shaking it dismissively.

"Nothing happened." Jarvan hissed. He looked at his over a hand that she held to her face. She finally pushed another finger to her lips and silenced him.

"So what do we do about the prince?" The male voice said. Jarvan froze.

"We keep tracking him." The female voice said. "If he becomes a threat or shows knowledge of my father, then we move on him." A sigh. "Until then, we keep at it."

"Yes, Mistress Couteau." Ice shot through Jarvan's veins.

_Couteau_? _As in Katarina Du Couteau? What was she doing here?_

"I have to make a report to Noxian High Command, Talon. Stay vigilant in the meantime." Jarvan heard a swirl of cloaks and then several moments later swish and a click signaled the return of Valor.

Jarvan stumbled out onto the deck and sat down heavily on the ground, leaning up against the railing. The Demacian eagle cocked his head back and forth looking at Jarvan curiously. Jarvan breathed deeply, his eyes on the ground, and he sighed heavily. He put both hands on his head and tousled his hair furiously, letting a roar of anger out.

"Just what I need." Jarvan spat. "I finally decide to go home and now this." He gestured into the night air.

"Who were those two?" The tracker said, perching herself on the railing. She raised her right arm, raising the perch for the Eagle. "Valor?" The bird paused, continuing to look at Jarvan then hopped onto her arm. The girl ran a hand down the bird's chest as it ruffled some of its feathers. The bird shook his head from side to side, showing that he didn't recognize the Noxians.

"I don't know about the man, but I think I recognized the name that he said." Jarvan let his shoulders sink and he sighed again.

"Du Couteau?" The tracker asked.

"Yes." Jarvan said, looking up over his arms. He remembered the vicious redhead he had seen across the delegation room when he had gone with his father to a meeting hosted by the League of Legends. Due to the complicated political situation, the Demacians hadn't joined the League initially, but soon afterwards, they had begun sending representatives. "She's the daughter of the infamous Noxian General Marcus Du Couteau." The young Tracker's eyes widened.

"Why is she following you?" She asked, stroking Valor, his beady golden eyes still glued to Jarvan.

"I have no idea." Jarvan said, his head dropping again, his exhaustion rapidly catching back up with him. He frowned though. "She mentioned something about 'knowledge' about her father. What the hell has happened in Noxus that there is a troupe of resident Legionnaires in a small mining town and a Noxian General's Daughter roaming about the wilds?"

The Tracker frowned.

"There hasn't been much news coming out of Noxus for the past few months." She scratched the back of Valor's neck. "Something major went down a few months back and Noxus has been bottled up ever since."

"Oh lord." Jarvan said, sighing. "What the hell did I miss?" He shook his head and the night air was silent, only the rustling of Valor's feathers.

"Well I'm exhausted and thoroughly confused right now. "Jarvan said scratching his head. "Can I hire you to track this dragon down for us?" The Tracker's eyes grew wide and she nearly fell over backwards. She waved her arms wildly through the air trying to catch her balance. Valor screeched at her and hauled her up by her collar. She sighed heavily and leaned forward as Valor landed on her shoulder.

"Thanks Valor." She said as she turned back to the prince, beaming. "It would be an honor." She said, hauling herself to her feet and bowing. She looked up grinning as Jarvan wiped a hand down across his face at her deep bow.

"Enough." Jarvan said, waving a hand at her dismissively. He hauled himself to his feet, struggling as his tired joints resisted the movement, the cold seeping into his bones. He was starting to feel infinitely older than he was as the political tensions managed to find him even here in the sleepy mining town of Kalamanda. The young tracker stuck her hand into Jarvan's face. He looked up to her and smiled, shaking his head. He grasped it and she struggled with his weight, taking his hand with both of her and helped him to his feet. "Thanks."

"Should I meet you in the pub in the morning?" She asked. Jarvan nodded, pulling a few gold pieces from a pouch tucked into his belt. He tossed it to her and she looked surprised. She looked at the gold pieces and her eyes turned to the size of dinner plates. "This is much too much!"

"I know." Jarvan said. "Get us some horses and some supplies. Keep the rest for yourself and Valor." She nodded blankly and Jarvan reached a hand out hesitantly. The bird flipped his head, side to side, eyeing him and then his hand but not retracting his head. He slowly continued to and managed to touch the bird. He rubbed the underside of Valor's neck, the bird closing his eyes and twisting its head a bit. "But for now, I need to get some sleep."

"Yes, sir." She said nodding her head. She still was staring at the gold pieces, as if she had never seen so much gold in her life. Jarvan turned and walked towards the door. He pushed the door open.

"Oh." He said, pausing, his hand on the door. "I never caught your name."

"Quinn!" She said, nervously, her voice catching in her throat. She cleared her throat. "Quinn, my name is Quinn!"

"Well Quinn, we'll meet you in the Tavern in the morning." Jarvan said. She nodded and smiled happily, dimpling at him. Jarvan waved over his shoulder as he dragged himself back into the room. He locked it behind him and used a chair to barricade it. As he drew a large overstuffed chair over towards the bed, he kicked off his boots and pulled a spare blanket from the closet.

He sat on the edge of the bed as he pulled off the tunic and began pealing the bandages from his back. He piled them on the overstuffed chair and shivered in the cool air.

"Everything alright?" Shyvana mumbled, her face still blushed from the alcohol and a subtle smile on her face as she raised her head from the pillow and poked it out from under the blanket. "You look troubled."

Jarvan chuckled.

"And you look comfortable." Jarvan said smiling tiredly at him. She rolled her eyes back and sighed contently.

"This bed is amazing." Shyvana said, her smile growing.

"It's the little things, isn't it?" Jarvan said, grinning. Shyvana closed her eyes and nodded, stretching her arm out under the pillow like a cat. Jarvan could have sworn she was purring.

"Are you well?" She said, the content melting from her face and worry began to show in her eyes.

"I'm confused and tired." Jarvan said. "I've been out in the wilderness for years and now I'm sitting here trying to figure out what exactly is happening in the world around me now that I'm returning." Shyvana paused furrowing her brow as she tried to comprehend his words. She rolled over, exposing her chest to the cool air. She blew out a breath of air, breathing deeply, the swell of her chest rising and falling. Her hair was spread out beneath her, cascading around her like water. Jarvan caught himself staring, his mouth barely hanging open. He clicked it shut as Shyvana caught his gaze. She blushed and looked away, but didn't cover herself.

"Maybe you should sleep on it?" She suggested.

"That sounds like a decent plan." Jarvan said. He started to get to his feet and he felt a small warm hand snake into his own.

"Don't go…" She said in a small voice. "I don't like being alone." Jarvan paused. Since he had found her alone at the top of the monolith, they hadn't been apart for more than a few minutes. "When I woke up and you weren't here… I was afraid."

"I won't go far." Jarvan said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Please…" Shyvana said, tugging him down. Jarvan resisted the effort though.

The thought of slipping under the covers into the warm, soft bed with the fiery, redheaded beauty was more than tempting. She was offering herself up to him, letting him gaze upon her in such an intimate moment. She looked up at him with soft eyes, her sleek pale skin inviting him to enjoy a hidden pleasure he had been deprived of for years. His body ached at the thought, and deep in his heart he knew he wouldn't regret it but something felt wrong. He didn't want to jump her bones too early, especially in such an unguarded moment, the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed still hanging in his mind. He knew that he would enjoy it and he knew she wanted it, he could read the desire on her face. As tempted as he was, Jarvan pealed the idea from his mind and stood up. The look of sadness on Shyvana's face was almost unbearable, but Jarvan knew that it was the right thing to do now.

He dragged the chair closer and dumped the bandages on the floor. He wrapped the blanket around himself from the floor and kicked his feet up on the bed. Shyvana watched him and rolled over, pulling the blanket over top of her. She looked at Jarvan with those magenta orbs, the spark of mischief still in her eyes. Her feet snaked through the heavy blankets and kicked them out over Jarvan's legs. He felt her warm feet brush against his, the sparkle in her eyes as she tangled her feet with his. Her eyes were testing Jarvan's resolve and as he sat back in the large, overstuffed chair, sinking into the plush stuffing, and he could only imagine how comfortable it would be to wrap his arms around Shyvana and taste her spicy embrace. Her eyes sparkled as Jarvan smiled at her, and they slowly disappeared as her eyes fluttered closed, drifting back to sleep.

Jarvan watched her for a few seconds and as the exhaustion washed over him, his eyes shut and he fell asleep immediately.


	8. Chapter 8: Reveille

Jarvan awoke the next morning and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Shyvana was still asleep on the bed, her feet still against his. He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he slowly stood up, slipping his feet from the bed, and then standing, stretching his back. Satisfied with the few popping sounds, he touched his toes carefully, shaking his head to try and clear the weariness he still felt. Shyvana stirred slowly, her feet seeming to search for Jarvan's, their absence not long going unnoticed. Jarvan leaned over and shook her shoulder gently.

"Morning." She said, raising an arm above her head as she rolled her head free of the blankets and yawned, revealing her long fangs. Her hair was a mess as she sat up, careful to hold the blankets to her chest for once, still bleary eyed.

"Sleep well?" Jarvan asked, grinning lopsidedly as she yawned again. She nodded, smiling happily, raising her hands above her head to stretch again. Despite her earlier efforts, the blankets fell away and she inadvertently managed to flash Jarvan yet again. He blushed and looked away as he slowly rocked to his feet.

He shivered in the cold air as he searched for his clothes. He pulled on a tunic and stuck his feet into his boots, cringing at the ice-cold leather. He grabbed a small towel and his shaving kit and stuck his head out the door, looking left and right. He vaguely remembered a door marked 'W.C.' the night before being down the hall.

"I'll be right back." Jarvan said, slipping out the door. Shyvana nodded sleepily as she fell back onto the bed, her mouth wide open as she fell back to sleep yet again. Jarvan stepped down the hallway, only the quiet '_thunk-click'_ of his boots sounding through the hallway. He turned the corner and found the door ajar at the end of the hall. He knocked gingerly and waited for any sort of response, but upon hearing none, he pushed the door in and stepped in. He closed and latched it behind him and then went about his business. He relieved himself, then washed his hair in the basin, doing his best to get as much of the dust out a possible. He toweled his hair off and emptied the basin and then filled it again using the bucket and the pump in the corner of the room. He opened his shaving kit, pulling a razor from the bag, a small brush and a bar of shaving soap.

He used the brush and built up a lather on the brush and then brushed it onto his face. He carefully rinsed the blade of his razor, and then using the dirty mirror, he cleaned up the stubble on his face. As he shaved the last of it away, Jarvan rinsed the blade and tucked it safely away in his kit. He quickly brushed his teeth then rinsed using a small bottle of liquor. He rinsed his face and emptied the basin, toweling his chin off. Satisfied, he packed his stuff up and then headed back to the room. The Inn was still deathly quiet, though Jarvan suspected that many of the other occupants of the Inn had stayed up late into the night celebrating. Jarvan entered the room, again only the sound of his boots being heard.

He packed his things away and then went to roust Shyvana again. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over to wake her again when she rolled under the covers to the other side of the bed. Jarvan sighed, but put a knee up on the bed, leaning over to where Shyvana was. He shook her shoulder gently.

"Shyvana…" He spoke softly. "Shyvana."

As he spoke she rolled back over, underneath him, out from under the covers. Jarvan froze, as the sleepy half-dragon's eyes fluttered open, directly below his own eyes. She lay there, her lower half barely covered by the blankets, as she yawned. Jarvan felt her warm breath wash over his face. He looked down, her pale flesh nearly pressed again his chest. She looked up into his eyes and blushed, a smile spreading onto her face and then into her eyes, that spark of mischief appearing yet again.

"You needn't be so aggressive, Prince." She purred, looking up at him. "All you need is ask…" She stroked his face and smiled. Jarvan began to lower his lips toward hers when a knock came at the door. Jarvan pushed himself off and stood up faster than he thought possible, his face still burning. He marched to the door stiffly, checking over his shoulder, getting a pouty glare from Shyvana as he went. Jarvan paused, his hand perched over the doorknob. He sighed, giving his cheeks a second to drain of the heat and color than pulled the door slightly in, standing in the gap.

"Captain." Forsythe said, saluting casually. Jarvan nodded in return. "LT just wanted me to check and make sure you were awake." The younger man was still blurry eyed, and had a large cowlick on the side of his head. Jarvan grinned as the younger man nodded and turned away.

"Tell him to meet me downstairs." Jarvan said after him. The younger man paused and nodded, disappearing down the steps towards the second level where he and Isaacs had been bunked. The tavern was on the ground floor and Jarvan could barely hear the bustle of miners and farmers coming in for breakfast. Jarvan closed the door and turned around, leaning against the frame, sighing.

_This is going to be the death of me._

He opened his eyes and found Shyvana staring at him. He glanced away nervously, grinning sheepishly. He heard a bit of a sigh from Shyvana as she sat up in the bed and began to pull her clothes on.

"Tease." Jarvan grinned sheepishly.

"Water closet is down the hall to the left, just around the corner." Jarvan said, making sure his gear was in order as he packed away his shaving kit.

"What's a water closet?" Shyvana asked. She had her boots and her waist armor on, but she hadn't gotten her chest, arm or shoulder armor on yet, just the light tunic that she had just pulled over her head. The garment had been one of the other soldiers, so it was loose on Shyvana and the large arm holes did little to hide her chest when she turned the right way.

Jarvan blinked a few times, realizing what exactly she had just said.

"Uh…" He said blankly. "It's a bathroom?" Jarvan said searching for the proper term. "You clean yourself and uh… relieve yourself there." He said, scratching his head.

"Oh." Shyvana said. "A toilet?"

"Yeah, that." Jarvan said, shaking his head. Shyvana grinned at him, kneeling on the bed, and leaned forward on all fours, giving Jarvan a clear view of her cleavage. He caught himself staring, and upon looking up into her eyes, she could only grin at him. He turned and dug through her pack briefly, and then tossed her a towel.

"Here," Jarvan said, standing up. "Use that to towel yourself off." He also tossed her a small bag from one of the younger soldiers. He believed it was Shores. "There is a tooth brush, some paste and a small bottle to rinse with and soap."

"What's a tooth brush?" Shyvana asked, looking at him with a quizzical look. Jarvan paused. He sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking, and then gestured to her to follow him. She looked at him for a second and then fell in behind him. Jarvan proceeded around the corner to where the water closet was and then pushed the door open and gestured inside.

"Go ahead and take care of anything you need to, then I'll explain the rest." Shyvana looked at him for a moment, a sly grin on her face, but nodded none the less then pushed her way into the room and pulled the door to behind her. Jarvan sighed when she did, shrinking down against the door jamb letting his head hang for a moment.

He opened the door to the balcony and stepped out, the air sticky with the humidity. Fog had rolled down off Mount Targon in the night and settled in the village. He could barely see the street below, and he wondered how long the fog would hang around. If it was going to stay this thick for a long while, he didn't think they would be able to track the dragon at all, much less find and kill him.

He sighed, thinking back to the night before. With Katarina Du Couteau and her own escort, the man by the name of 'Talon' on their tail, getting back to Demacia without incident could prove challenging. Jarvan hadn't exactly thought about what they were going to do after tracking Kampf down, but depending on where their search for the beast took them, it could lead them north nearly to Piltover or even the Freljord. Those were the closest mountains if Kampf decided to head north. Jarvan dreaded where the beast could be if he headed north-east towards the Ironspike Mountains. They were closer than any other mountain range but it took them dangerously close to Noxus which wasn't something that Jarvan really wanted to risk. He wasn't sure how quickly Katarina and Talon could summon reinforcements, but it wasn't something Jarvan wanted to find out.

He sighed, leaning against the railing. He had been slaying monsters for most of two years, but he had slain his fair share of humans, yordles and other creatures of the sort in his time wandering Runeterra. Most of the enemies had been bandits and the like, but he had dueled various champions from the many different regions he had visited. Many had been draws, and even a few losses, but Jarvan had been learning with each fight and he had found himself winning more and more of the duels. He had grown tired and headed south below the barrier, and that was where the tragedies had occurred with the beast Kampf. He had a personal vendetta against the beast, and he knew Shyvana and Isaacs did as well, but Jarvan had concerns about Forsythe and Quinn.

Forsythe was young, and there was much he hadn't experienced in his short lifetime, much of it spent in training at the Demacian Martial Academy and then on the field of battle, and Jarvan had already lost too many of his men to put Forsythe at risk. It wasn't that he didn't trust the young man, he had shown almost prodigal level of intensity in his training, but he also showed reluctance to kill. Jarvan frowned. He respected that in a man, the desire to kill shouldn't come naturally, but you shouldn't hesitate in the field of battle or you could lose your life. Jarvan suspected that Forsythe might turn to some other trade when they returned to Demacia.

_I wouldn't blame him after this journey._

The other young one, Quinn, was more of a quandary than anything else. Jarvan could tell she was young, much younger than even Forsythe or Shyvana, but she also could take care of herself. It wasn't often that you came across someone like that, and Jarvan saw some potential in her. He wondered if she had the stomach or skill for open combat, but if the Demacian eagle trusted her, than Jarvan suspected that he could as well.

A rare and dangerous creature, Demacian Eagles were dark blue birds of prey, native to the forests of Western Valoran, mostly dominated by the Demacian Kingdom and it's outlying towns and villages. The birds had been nearly killed off due to their usefulness as scouts during the Rune wars, and they were now close to extinct. Many had developed a morbid hatred and fear of Humans, though Valor seemed to trust Quinn intimately. If she proved herself and showed herself useful, Jarvan could easily secure her a place at the Academy if she so wished.

As Jarvan was mulling over all of the possibilities that were to come, Shyvana poked head out of the water closet.

"Jarvan?" He turned his head and upon seeing her, he pushed himself off the railing, steeling himself for the task ahead of him.

"Right, let's see here." Jarvan followed her into the tight room and paused, the stench of burned hair heavy in the air. He sniffed a few times, wondering exactly what had caused that. "Do you still have that kit I gave you?" He said, leaning against the door. Shyvana nodded as she handed it to him.

"I did everything I could on my own." She said grinning. Jarvan nodded as he inspected the kit again, seeing what was contained inside. He pulled out the toothbrush and the small tube of paste and applied just a bit to the brush. He handed it to Shyvana who sniffed at the minty paste.

"Ah…. Hmmm…" Jarvan said pausing. "Bare your teeth and then… brush them?" He was trying to think exactly how to explain brushing one's teeth to a dragon who seemed to know very little about human society. Shyvana was having trouble at first, but she seemed to understand the idea. "Like this." Jarvan said, demonstrating the motion. Shyvana did as he did and soon she was doing fine. "Now you can rinse and spit the residue into the toilet." Shyvana did as she was told, scooping a bit of water into her mouth with her hand and rinsing.

"What was that stuff." Shyvana asked, smacking her lips, blinking. "It's tasty."

"It's not for eating, but it's called 'mint'." He said with a smile. "I'll treat you to something like that when we get to Demacia."

Shyvana nodded, a hopeful smile on her face. "Now what?"

"Now comes the hard part." Jarvan said, thinking out how exactly he was going to do this. "Washing your hair." He said. You might want to take your tunic off for this part." He said, coughing nervously. Shyvana grinned slyly at him, doing what she was told. She tossed the garment at him and Jarvan hung it on the back of the door. Jarvan drew a bucket of water from the pump and motioned to the basin.

"I'm going to slowly pour this water over the back of your head." Jarvan said. "Do your best to scrub the dust from your hair." Shyvana nodded and bent over the basin, letting her hair cascade over one side of her head. Jarvan slowly poured the water down, Shyvana gasping at the cold water hitting her neck. She scrubbed her hair as Jarvan emptied the bucket, much of dust coming to rest in the basin. Shyvana tugged water from her hair, and it plastered itself to her skin along her neck, and down her front.

"Empty the basin and we'll repeat." He said. Shyvana nodded and poured the water from the basin out into the toilet. She bent back over the basin, this time letting herself rub up against Jarvan a bit more than he felt necessary. He ignored it and emptied the bucket again, and satisfied they had gotten most of the dust out, he hung the bucket up and Shyvana wrung her long hair out.

"Here." Jarvan said, holding the towel up. She looked at him from under water-soaked bangs and giggled. Jarvan tossed the towel on her head and scrubbed it around, drying her hair.

"Ah!" She shrieked, giggling still.

"Hold still!" Jarvan hissed, a grin spreading over his face as he did his best to dry her head as she tried to duck away. She bounced off the wall and ended up pressed against Jarvan. She snaked her arms around him, holding on as he continued to run the towel over her head. He paused, letting the towel sit on top of her head. She blew air out one side of her mouth, blowing her hair out of her eyes and looked up at him with the one eye she could see from.

"That was mean." She pouted, the spark of mischief bouncing in her eye. Jarvan grinned sheepishly as he pulled the towel from her head. He snorted and burst into laughter at the sight, her hair standing on end, going every direction. He nearly fell over he was laughing so hard as Shyvana stood their glaring at him. "What! What's so funny?"

Jarvan gestured at the mirror as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still struggling not too laugh. Shyvana turned and looked. She squeaked and giggled, the sight surprising her. She laughed right along with Jarvan till they were both sore.

"Here." Jarvan said, helping her towel off the rest of her hair. It nearly fell all the way to her hips, so it took some work and when they were finished, her hair was almost as much of a mess as it had been before, sans the dust. Jarvan chuckled at her as she pouted at him.

"I'll get you a brush for it as soon as I can." Jarvan said, trying not to chuckle. Shyvana turned and pressed her chest up against Jarvan's, standing on her toes, to get as close to him as possible. Jarvan did his best not to smile as Shyvana put on her best menacing expression.

"You did this just to make fun of me." She said, her frown threatening to break into a grin.

"Did not." Jarvan said, looking away from her breasts, pushed up against his chest. "Now here." He said, dumping the tunic on her head. "We need to get dressed and head down and see about breakfast." Shyvana sighed and nodded, pulling her hair free of the tunic as she pulled it over her head.

She followed Jarvan from the water closet, and made their way quietly back to their room. Jarvan tossed the towel onto the bed with the small kit and gestured Shyvana over. She moved closer, her eyebrow raised.

"Here, turn around." Jarvan said.

Shyvana blushed as she did as she was told. Jarvan reached around her neck, gathering as much of her hair as he could in a bundle behind her. He separated it into three strands and set about something his mother had taught him long ago. He layered the left most strand over the middle and beneath the right most strands and carefully pulled it to. He then layered the middle strand over the right most, tucking it down between then. He continued the patter, switching back and forth, layering the hair back and forth, till her reached the last foot of so of her hair. Using a short length of cord to tie off the last of it. Shyvana looked over her shoulder and then over the other shoulder, trying to look at the braid.

"That should keep it out of the way while we're fighting." Jarvan said, pulling on a gauntlet. Shyvana nodded, grinning.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" She asked, pulling the thick braid over her shoulder. She stroked it, smiling as she did. "It's soft."

"It's just something my mother taught me." Jarvan said with a grin. "I used to do it to my own hair when I was training."

"Thanks." She said, grinning.

"Now let's get something to eat, I'm famished." Jarvan said. He helped Shyvana into her armor as she struggled with the latch for her chest piece. He finished putting on his own armor and tossed his cloak around his shoulders. Shyvana did the same, pinning the cloak around her neck with the Demacian pin she had received from Jarvan. She tossed her pack and nodded to Jarvan. Jarvan tossed his own pack over his shoulder and grabbed his lance. He pulled the door behind him and together they made their way down into the tavern.


	9. Chapter 9: Departure

Most of the wreckage had been cleared away, though one of the Barmaids was still sweeping dust up. Jarvan looked around the bar, but didn't see Forsythe, Isaacs or Quinn. Jarvan made his way towards the fire, burning high in the hearth and set his gear down at the table. One of the Barmaids made her way over, this time a young girl with long, wavy, dirty blonde hair that fell around her fair complexioned face. She had bright green eyes that sparkled brightly even in the dim light of the Tavern.

"Good morning!" She said politely, bowing in Jarvan's direction. She nodded hello to Shyvana as well, though her eyes stayed glued to Jarvan.

"Morning." Jarvan said grinning at her, bringing a blush to her cheeks. "What's on the menu for breakfast?"

"We have some leftover Strider steak with eggs." She said, looking at the ceiling thinking. "We also have some other food available if that doesn't suit you."

"That sounds pretty good actually." Jarvan said nodding. "Bread and coffee as well?"

"We have tea if you'd like." She said, holding a tray in front of her.

"Sure." Jarvan said nodding.

"And you ma'am?" The Barmaid said, turning to Shyvana. Shyvana glanced at Jarvan and shrugged.

"I'll have the same thing I think."

"Of course!" She said happily, sneaking a glance at Jarvan and then walking away, obviously doing her best not to run. Jarvan sighed, shaking his head.

"Do you have that effect on all women?" Shyvana said, perching her chin on her arm that rested on the table. Jarvan read her expression as annoyed, though he couldn't quite tell.

"Yes, usually." Jarvan said, sheepishly, winking at her.

"He is a prince after all." Isaacs said approaching the table with Forsythe in tow. "Morning all." They sat down across from Shyvana and Jarvan, dumping their packs on the table behind them. Forsythe looked a bit more docile than yesterday, and Jarvan expected he'd be in a better mood with a hot meal in his belly.

"I suppose." Shyvana said, looking away, her shoulders sinking. Jarvan glanced at her, not quite sure exactly what was wrong with Shyvana all of a sudden.

"Sleep well?" Jarvan asked in the general direction of Isaacs and Forsythe.

"I forgot how damn good it felt to sleep in a bed." Isaacs said with a grin. He raised his arms in a stretch above him, rolling his neck at the same time. "Though I heard you two had a good time last night." Jarvan sighed, eliciting a chuckle from Isaacs and a blush from Shyvana. "No, no, not like that, the brawl you managed to get into."

"A brawl?" Forsythe said, frowning. "What happened?"

"That's what I want to know." Isaacs said grinning.

"Here's your food." The Barmaid said, appearing in a flurry from the kitchen. She carried a couple of plates of food and some other dishes. She set the two plates of food in front of Jarvan and Shyvana, each piled with a thick piece of strider steak, eggs and what Jarvan suspected was some sort of chopped, fried potato dish. She also set a tea pot, two mugs and a basket with thick slices of a dark, oat topped bread. She set cream and sugar on the table as well for their tea and poured both of them a cup of tea.

"Can I get something for you two gentlemen?" She said, looking to Isaacs and Forsythe.

"Same thing." Isaacs said gesturing to the plate that sat in front of Jarvan. "Coffee?"

"Tea." She said, giggling. "And you?"

"I'll have the same." Forsythe said, blushing at her, a small grin on her face. She winked at him as she spun and went to fetch their food.

"Anyways, you were saying about your fight last night?" Isaacs said grinning and elbowing the younger man who sat next to him.

"Right, the brawl." Jarvan said, a smile on his face. "Well, it started when a Noxian drunkard and his squad of idiots decided they wanted trouble."

"He decided that I looked like fun." Shyvana said with a smirk. Isaacs scoffed, leaning back as he laughed.

"He didn't even see it coming." Jarvan said with a grin. "She clocked him so hard he went flying. Right to the jaw." Jarvan said, tapping the underside of his chin with his fork. "His friends didn't take so kindly to that, so we did what we could to help the townsfolk out in dealing with the oppressive sonovabitch and his men."

"He ended up taking a trip to the town jail on a stretcher." The Barmaid said, grinning as she set two more plates on the table in front of Forsythe and Isaacs.

"Thanks!" Forsythe said, suddenly looking ravenous. He dug into the plate of food, as Isaacs and Jarvan both chuckled.

"Thank ya, missy." Isaacs said, winking at her. She nodded and left them to their food.

"So how do we find a tracker?" Isaacs asked, tucking into his own plate. Jarvan finished chewing a piece of the Strider Steak and some of the eggs he had just shoveled into his mouth, and swallowed, washing it down with a sip of tea.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I ran into one that should be able to help us last night." Jarvan said, pulling a piece of the dark bread from the basket. "She's young, but she seems capable enough." Isaacs raised an eyebrow and Shyvana shot Jarvan a sideways glance as she chewed on a piece of strider steak.

"How'd you find one… her?" Isaacs said, surprise on his face as he bit a corner off a piece of dark bread.

"She actually found us right before the brawl last night." Jarvan said with a grin. "She knew about the Legionnaires and had a few run-ins with them in the past of her own. She warned me to be careful and I met with her afterwards."

"I see." Isaacs said, nodding. "A local?" Jarvan finished chewing a mouthful of eggs and potatoes.

"I don't think so." He said, shaking his head. "Looked like she was passing through or maybe in between jobs." Jarvan shrugged. "She's decidedly Demacian though. She had a Demacian Eagle with her." Isaacs paused, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth, a chunk of egg falling back to the plate. Even Forsythe had frozen mid forkful and looked back to Jarvan. Jarvan nodded.

"Those birds are legendary." Forsythe said through a half-full mouth.

"Chew your food." Isaacs said, chuckling. "But he's right, I haven't seen one in over a decade."

"Well you'll get to meet one later then." Jarvan said grinning. "I was hoping she'd be here by now, but I had her gathering a few things for us before the journey."

"Supplies?" Isaacs said. Jarvan nodded.

"Horses as well." Jarvan said. "We're not going to catch Kampf on foot, I'm afraid." Shyvana nodded, her hair bobbing up and down.

"He may be wounded, but it's been several days." She said with a frown. "If he chose to move fast, he's going to have made his wounds worse. If he chose to go slow, he won't have gotten far, but he's going to be tougher to defeat." He paused, staring down at a piece of steak on her fork. "Hopefully we'll find him before too long."

Jarvan saw her knuckles turn white around the fork, her obvious frustration boiling forth. They finished their breakfast shortly and were nursing cups of tea while the barmaid clear their dishes when a commotion near the door caught their attention. The hushed tones of the other occupants of the Tavern went silent as everyone turned to look. Jarvan looked up from his cup of tea and their hushed conversation to see what had caused such a problem. The door swept open to reveal a young woman struggling with a large bird.

"Valor!" Quinn shouted, frowning as the bird hovered just above and behind her as she pushed the door in. "Valor, stay here." The bird snapped its beak at her and circled off, riding an air current up into the sky. She sighed, her head hanging as she entered the tavern and looked around. Seeing Jarvan sitting in the back corner, she made her way over, pulling her head back.

"This is the tracker?" Isaacs asked, jerking a finger in her direction. Jarvan nodded, a grin on his face. "Oh great, more kids to take care of." Isaacs said, sighing. Both Shyvana and Forsythe caught themselves scowling at the older Lieutenant.

"Sorry I'm late." Quinn said, bowing to Jarvan. "It took a bit longer than I thought it would to get a hold of the horses."

"It's fine." Jarvan said. "Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Isaacs, Corporal Forsythe, and my consort, Shyvana." Jarvan said, gesturing to each. Isaacs nodded at Quinn, and Forsythe looked dumbstruck, but Shyvana looked at her with an unamused glare.

"Nice to meet you all." Quinn said, bowing again to the table. "My name is Quinn." She said with a brisk smile. She brushed some of her dark hair from her face.

"Everything in order?" Jarvan asked as he finished off his cup of tea.

"Yep." She chirped happily. "When do you wish to head out?" She asked, eyeing the group. Jarvan took a cursory glance around his companions and noting they were all looking to him, he nodded.

"Now, if you're ready." Jarvan said, standing, his chair scrapping the cobbles as he got to his feet.

"Aye, captain." Isaacs said, cracking his neck again and getting to his feet. He pulled his cloak around his shoulders, grunting as he pulled his pack on. "Something tells me that we're not in for clear weather much longer." Quinn nodded solemnly as the others got to their feet and pulled their packs on.

"I haven't seen fog this thick in this region in a long time." She said ominously. "We're probably going to get hit by a bad storm. As for when? It could be hours or days."

"We should get going then." Jarvan said, spurring the group towards the door. He dropped a few silver pieces on the table and nodded his thanks to the Barmaid. The money would be more than enough to cover the food, rooms, and a small tip for the young girl. She nodded her thanks as they left the tavern, stepping into the smoky half-morning light. Every direction was grey, and the cobblestone street disappeared not thirty feet distant in any direction.

Five restless horses stood tied off to the side of the tavern. They were stamping at the ground, and Jarvan couldn't tell if they were spooked or just bored. They were a range of colors, from midnight black to a brilliant white. They all bore saddles and four were set up with one saddle bag, ready to accept the pack from one of the others to even the load out. The fifth already had both saddle bags and he figured it was Quinn's. His suspicions were confirmed when she approached the brown beast, its black mane quivering in the morning humidity.

"Choose a horse and mount up." Quinn said. "We'll be moving out shortly." Jarvan chose a massive, jet black animal, its mane falling to the side. The animal eyed Jarvan suspiciously as he approached, his hand extended. It stomped a few times, sending a little dust billowing beneath his massive hooves. It snorted but did not back down as Jarvan stroke its nose carefully. The beast looked at him with glistening eyes, following his movements as he moved towards the flank and attacked his pack using the belts. He lowered the saddlebags into place and slipped one boot into the stirrup, lifting himself up and into the saddle. The horse shook its head, tossing its mane back and forth.

He looked around and watched as Shyvana, Isaacs and Forsythe managed to mouth their horses, all of them getting their packs set as well. Quinn was looking skyward, though at what Jarvan could only guess. Forsythe was on the white mare, Shyvana had a black horse, though hers was smaller than Jarvan's and Isaacs had an ash colored Stallion that was anxious to get underway.

Quinn lifted her arm towards the sky, and with a mighty screech, Valor descended in a swirl of feathers and mist. He fluttered his wings, slowing his descent as he dropped down onto her arm, shaking his head, casting little droplets of water off. He locked eyes with Jarvan for a few moments, blinking before turning to Quinn and twitching his head, making soft noises. Quinn paid him rapt attention and then she raised her arm high, tossing him into the wind. He disappeared into the mist again.

"Any luck?" Jarvan asked, half joking. Quinn nodded at him.

"Valor says there is a large, fresh trail several leagues north of here." She said, adjusting herself in the saddle. "A very large creature." She spitted Jarvan with a stare.

"A dragon." Shyvana said quietly. Quinn nodded.

"North then." Jarvan said, spurring his horse forward into a trot. Quinn fell in ahead of him, Shyvana beside him and then Forsythe and Isaacs behind them. He looked over and nodded at Shyvana. He could see white-knuckled anticipation, her entire body coiled like a spring, ready to fight, ready to strike. Her eyes were ice cold and focused ahead, ready for the chance to kill Kampf.

Jarvan could feel the animal rage pouring off her, her desire to kill almost palatable in the air, a far cry from the giggly, flirtatious young woman he had woken that morning.

Something in her had changed.

It was _frightening_.


	10. Chapter 10: Encounter

It had been several hours since they had departed the mining town of Kalamanda. Jarvan had fallen in next to Quinn, paying attention to where she looked as they made their way through the heavily wooded forest. The dark evergreen trees rose up menacingly from the rocky undergrowth, sharp outcroppings exploding up from the ground in random intervals. The horses had been having a rough time with the terrain, weaving back and forth across the open areas of the trail. Jarvan frowned, looking for the small signs that Quinn was following. He noticed broken branches occasionally, and small splotches of blood on the rocks at random intervals. There wasn't much but he could see the pattern forming. There were branches and pine needles littering the ground from recent disturbances.

"You'll not find what you're looking for down there." Quinn said with a sly grin on her face. She gestured up with her thumb. Jarvan looked up and gasped softly, chuckling. In the upper branches of the evergreen trees, branches had been torn asunder, knocking whole branches loose and hanging by strands of their fibrous wood. Some of the sharper branches had black blood on their pale, sappy, broken shards of branches.

"Probably from his wings." She said with a grin. "He was badly injured and from the look of things, his movements were callous, rough and wild." Quinn said with a frown. "He was doing almost as much damage to himself with him movements as you seemed to have inflicted."

"He did his fair share." Jarvan growled. "He did a number on my back."

"I noticed it in the way you moved." Quinn said. "Was it bad?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." Jarvan said, shifting in his saddle as the horse stepping up over a large slab of stone.

"You say that." Quinn mused. "I can see you're in discomfort."

Jarvan shifted. The bouncing from the horse was starting to irritate the scars on his back, and though they had begun to heal well, they were far from fully healed. He had been staying well hydrated, and the herbal remedy that Isaacs had Shyvana apply had helped the healing process along immensely, though he would have extensive scarring on his back. He adjusted himself in the saddle, trying to relieve some of the tension on his lower back, but only succeeded in shifting it directly back into the same position it had been in before.

"I've dealt with worse." Jarvan said, telling a half-truth. He had been injured worse, but he'd let the healers deal with it, not toughing it out with field-herbal remedies. "Though nothing this…. Ah… extensive."

"Uh-huh. Right." Quinn said grinning. "You'll have to tell me abo-… whoa." Quinn's horse came to a trotting stop in a large char-blackened clearing. Pine needles had been burned away, and the dirt and rocks had been blackened with soot. Stumps of smashed trees had been burned away, and some were still smoldering. The entire clearing stunk of sulfur and charcoal.

"What happened here?" Forsythe asked. "Kampf?" Jarvan, Quinn, and Isaacs all looked to Shyvana.

"It would appears so." Shyvana said quietly. Jarvan could hear the anger growling under her voice, a barely constrained rage at being so close to her target but so far away.

"I remember seeing something like this." Jarvan said calmly. "When I drove my lance straight through Kampf's chest and he tried to breathe fire." Jarvan sighed grimly. "We're definitely on the trail."

"Told you I was good." Quinn said with a smirk.

"Just because you managed to track down a rampaging, injured dragon in the pine forests of Eastern Demacia, might I add, the ONLY injured, rampaging dragon in all of Southern Valoran, doesn't mean you're good." Isaacs said with a grin. She shot him a dirty look.

"It wasn't exactly easy finding that trail to begin with." Quinn shot back.

"The pillar of smoke wasn't a dead giveaway either." Forsythe said with a grin, waving smoke from his face, much of the tree trunks still smoking profusely.

"Did you see the pillar of smoke in that fog?" Quinn shot back. "I didn't think so." Isaacs chuckled as Forsythe clicked his jaw shut, an annoyed look on his face, the eyebrow above his good eye twitching. Jarvan gave him a glance, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah…" Forsythe said, sighing.

"Now, now kiddies, let's play nice." Isaacs said, sighing.

"Any idea how long ago this was caused?" Jarvan asked, dismounting his horse. The beast stepped lightly, pawing at the ground. None of the horses seemed to care much for the blackened landscape. The animals shook their heads from side to side, all of the riders struggling to keep them from straying. Shyvana spoke softly to her animal, leaning in as she stroked its mane slowly, her other hand holding the reins safely away from her body. The animal slowly clamed itself, shaking its head in distress.

"The horses are still spooked, and the scent of blood is still fresh despite the heavy burning and charring in the area." She said softly. "A day at most, maybe two."

Jarvan shot Shyvana a glance, but she refused to meet his gaze for more than a second. She was staring emptily at the ground, as if the life had been sucked out of her. She seemed tired, almost haggard, the playfulness and mischief drained and replaced with the look of a combat veteran that had seen too many battlefields, too many dead bodies to be able to keep company with the living any longer. Jarvan had experienced and seen it all too much before. Jarvan didn't know what had caused the almost catastrophic crash in her attitude and part of him was almost afraid to find out, but he owed her at least the notion of sympathies. As soon as he was able and had a free moment, Jarvan would pull her aside and talk to her. He wasn't exactly good with discussing feelings, but he would do his damnedest to try.

"What do we want to do?" Quinn asked, leaning forward on her horse, stretching her back.

"Figure out which direction he headed and then we move. We'll break for dinner at sundown and then we ride through the night." Jarvan said, mounting up on his horse. "Which direction?"

Quinn trotted around the perimeter of the clearing, looking for signs of movement out of the clearing. There was a swath of half-knocked down trees leading away to the northeast, some of the black blood and pine branches littering the ground. She jerked her head in the direction the path was leading away from the clearing of burned trees.

"Here." Quinn said with a grim look. "He's headed northeast towards the Ironspike Mountains."

"Northeast? Great." Jarvan spat. "We move, now."

Quinn nodded, taking off along the path. Isaacs and Forsythe fell in to the rear as Shyvana galloped off to catch up to Quinn. Jarvan fell in behind the two ladies, pushing the horse forward to catch up with them as Forsythe and Isaacs struggling to catch up with them. The path cleared for a short length as the forest thinned out. The underbrush was burned and the rocks rose up from the ground around them as they moved towards a rocky valley. The sharp rocks fells away revealing a waterfall and a sheer cliff, the path leading away to the side, winding down the side.

The horses slowed to a bare trot as she headed down the rocky path, trees exploding from small cracks and the bare patches of dirt that crumbled down the side of the cliff. Craggy trees reached into the sky and grabbed for sunlight, spilling shadows onto the path. The shade was cool and damp as clouds rolled in across the valley. The trees were ragged and worn, but they were holding onto the cliffs, hanging out into the air high over the valley.

"It's almost beautiful in an eerie sort of way." Quinn said with a sad grin.

"It was like this in Shurima." Shyvana said, looking at the rocks and scraggly trees. "Life would cling to the smallest spark and it was gorgeous in a sad way. Life could survive in the smallest places and it was depressing to watch it struggle to survive."

_She's homesick?_

The path twisted around a waterfall, the spray crashing off the rocks as the path cut under and behind, almost through the cliff side. The spray was cooling and Jarvan felt a bit of tension ease away as the sound of the hooves was washed out of his ears by the roar of the falling water. As they came out of the darkness of the rocky overhang, the horses had to be held back from galloping into the freedom of the open ground between the base of the cliff and the tree line. A massive lake stretched out to the left, framing the bottom of the valley, gentle waves lapping at the cliff side and the rocky shore. The pine forests framed the lake, hitting the water and the sides of the cliffs like an evergreen lake.

Jarvan was tempted to stop and enjoy the lake, but he also knew that they needed to track down Kampf before he healed his wounds and decided he wanted to terrorize the local populace. Kampf had been preying on wild beasts and the odd roving traveler, but if he was allowed to roam the wilds near the Ironspike Mountains, it wouldn't be long before he found a village or town and began to prey upon their inhabitants. Kampf, having been forced to flee northeast and now he was roaming dangerously close to Noxian territory. If rumor got out that he was responsible for driving a massive, blood thirsty dragon into Noxian territory, Jarvan would run the risk of starting an international incident, if not a war.

Jarvan reigned in his horse, the mighty black beast stamping angrily at the ground. He made sure everyone made it off the edge of the cliff and then looked skyward, watching the sun drop down towards the distant tree line. They would have an hour at most to travel, and he didn't like having his back against the wall here on the side of the valley, the lake keeping him boxed in to the side. The horse stood still and circled, stamping aggressively as thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Let's move." Jarvan said, taking off, again following the obviously destroyed swath of trees. Quinn caught up with him and fell in beside him.

"You alright?" She asked softly, leaning in.

"I'm worried about the weather." Jarvan said, eyeing the storm clouds rolling towards them like a wall. They were angry and black, laced with lightning that tempted to boil over and pour down upon the landscape. "We can do much to catch up if we are able to plow through the storm, but I don't know if it's worth it."

"If we run into this Dragon of yours, it could prove disastrous." Quinn said, nodding.

"If we run ourselves ragged just trying to catch him, we're going to pay for it." Jarvan said sighing, sitting low in the saddle, letting his shoulders sink. He bucked forward, smashing his chin on his breast plate as the horse jumped down off a small rock. "Kampf already killed off most of my men." Jarvan said with a growl as he rubbed his sore chin.

"You really have it out for him, don't you?" Quinn said, tilting his head forward and sighing as her horse stepped up into a fast trot.

"He has debts to pay." Jarvan said sourly. "But not just to me. He took Forsythe's other eye, he took Isaac's son, and he took Shyvana's Father."

"I didn't realize." Quinn said quietly. Jarvan stayed quiet as Shyvana moved up to match them and pushed past both of them. She snapped the reigns and pushed her horse faster, putting distance between her and the rest of the party. Quinn glanced at Jarvan and sighed at the pained look on his face. She could see that he was in pain over the dragoness, his own loss compounding the mixed feelings between them. They were a blur, but even Quinn could see the feelings he held for her.

Jarvan nodded solemnly and took off, winding through the forest, leaping over rocks, ducking under branches and ducking past trees, chasing after Shyvana. He leapt over fallen trees and ducked and dodged, the world around him turning into a blur. The world around his exploded as lightning arced across the sky and giant splashes of water began to crash down around him. He caught a glint of gold and red ahead of him, disappearing behind a tree. As he rounded the corner, he saw it appear for just a second and then just as quickly disappear again.

"Shyvana!" The shout seemed to stick in his throat but started to echo around him, bouncing off of the trees and echoing through the growing roar of the rain as it began to pour down. Jarvan refused to slow though, pushing his horse to race faster and faster, chasing after the blur that was Shyvana. The world around him became a blur as the roar in his ears became nothing but white noise. The blur of greys, browns and greens faded to nothing, leaving Jarvan seemingly floating in nothingness, even the rocking of the motion of the horse beneath him seeming to disappear.

Jarvan just seemed to be floating in a blackness, just hanging in the air. He choked, grasping at his throat as the air drained from his chest. Bubbles shot out of his mouth as he gasped, his throat closing as water rushed into his mouth. His vision tinted red at the edges, with jagged spikes of black creeping in. Jarvan felt water rush down his throat filling his lungs as he began to sink. He clawed at his throat and then at the water around him, grasping for life as it seeped out of him. The red in his eyes faded to nothing and soon there was only blackness. Jarvan faded to unconsciousness.

* * *

Jarvan found himself on a familiar grassy knoll, there was something wrong. There was no one there on the knoll, the grass almost perfectly silent. Jarvan could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly a crow appeared on a tree and crowed. The sound echoed around him eerily.

Jarvan took a hesitant step forward and heard something crumble. He looked down and saw the ground crack beneath him. He jumped back and tumbled to the ground. A massive beaked beast exploded upwards, rising hundreds of feet above Jarvan. The beaked face was contorted in rage, the cruel face of Swain exploded out of the beak, sneering at him, his laughter echoing through the roar of the monster.

Feathery tentacles exploded from where Jarvan was crawling backwards, lacing around his limbs and chest and pulling his down to the ground like a vice. Jarvan felt himself getting dragged into the ground, something slimy tightening down around his neck. Swain loomed over him, blackening out the sky above them.

"Jarvan!" The voice was distant and hollow.

Jarvan could smell Swain's disgusting breath, and feel the heat and saliva that sprayed over him. Jarvan struggled with the bindings, but couldn't get free. He opened his mouth to scream and shout, but he felt his jaw fall open and no sound came out. He looked down and saw his jaw fall away, rotten and black. Jarvan was rocked back as lances exploded outwards from Swains chest and pierced him in the shoulders and thighs, holding him in place. Jarvan tried to scream in pain, but he couldn't form the words.

"Jarvan!" It was louder this time, closer.

Swain loomed just over his head and let his long black tongue hang out of his mouth. Jarvan tried to shrink down into the ground, but he couldn't seem to sink any lower. Like a great snake, the tongue curled around his neck and tightened down. The great beak and haunting face closed down around him. Jarvan began to fall, disappearing into a black abyss.

"JARVAN!" Shyvana shouted. Jarvan grabbed onto the voice and held on for dear life. He pictured her face and clamped his eyes shut trying to escape the disaster. His eyes ripped open and he saw that same pair of gorgeous magenta orbs hovering over his face. Jarvan awoke in a cold sweat, his chest heaving, out of breath. He swept his hair from his face and sat up, sweat streaming down his face. He breathed deeply as Shyvana swept his hair from his face. Much of it was plastered to his face with sweat.

Moonlight pooled in from the open balcony, spilling lazily across the bed. Jarvan sat with the sheets pooled in his lap as Shyvana stroke his hair, her eyes glued to his face. Jarvan lay back and pinched the bridge oh his nose as he willed his heart to slow its racing pace. He felt like he had just fought a battle.

Shyvana perched herself on Jarvan's chest, her chin perched on his collar bone and her breasts pushed against him. She peered down into his eyes and frowned. She stroked his cheek with two fingers and wiped sweat from the corner of his eye.

"Are you okay?" She spoke softly, sleep still heavy in her eyes. Jarvan clamped his eyes shut and wiped the sweat from his face. He propped himself up on his elbows, Shyvana lazily rolling down onto his lap. The silk sheet barely hid what Jarvan couldn't see, and even then he got the tantalizing forms and shapes underneath. He brushed his hand across her shock of dark red hair, looking almost purple in the moonlight.

"Yes, just a nightmare." Jarvan said, shaking his head. Shyvana reached up and touched his nose with her finger.

"I've never seen you like that before…" She spoke softly. "That must have been some nightmare." Jarvan only peered at her for a few silent moment and then nodded. She lifted herself from his lap and draped her arms around his neck pulling him close. She pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes as she drew him in. Jarvan didn't react at first, but her exuberant effort finally got him to part her lips.

She tasted spicy, her tongue brushing across his lips trying to gain interest. Jarvan finally let his lips part, letting her in. Their tongues tangled briefly, Jarvan reveling in the familiar taste. He brought his hand up and rested it on Shyvana's neck, stroking her neck gently. She leaned against him, forehead to forehead, staring deep into his pale blue eyes. She blinked, her eyelashes brushing against his face tickling him. He grinned sheepishly. Shyvana smiled broadly, sleep still heavy in her eyes. She kissed Jarvan deeply again and leaned against his shoulder.

"I'll be fine." He said quietly.

He snaked himself out from under her and slipped off the massive bed. He pulled on a pair of shorts and stepped onto the massive balcony that stretched out from one of the many spires of the Demacian Palace. He leaned against the heavy railing and pondered the moon. Shyvana slumped out of the bed behind him, draping a sheet loosely around her bare form. She walked slowly, trying to rub sleep from her eyes. She stood on her tiptoes and tied to perch her chin on his shoulder, but her small frame wasn't tall enough even on her tip toes. She whimpered as she tried to snuggle against him, running her finger along the scars of the burns he had gained when he protected her from Kampf. Jarvan looked over his shoulder, a small smile on his face. Her turned and held Shyvana close against him, wrapped in his arms and loosely in the sheet.

"You seemed to have developed a fondness for those scars." He said, grinning sadly.

"You say that as if you're the only one to bear such scars." She raised her nose into the air haughtily and began to turn away. Jarvan pulled her back in and kissed her. He grinned.

"So why don't we head back to bed then?" She said huskily, trying to tug him along. "We can get familiar with each other's scars some other time." Jarvan leaned back, letting her tug on him a wry grin cracking on his face. He looked down on her, taking in her fine red hair, her brilliant magenta eyes and the bountiful cleavage that she was failing to hide with the sheet she had tugged with her from the bed.

"I'm already quite familiar with your scars if you'll recall." Shyvana did recall his medical care that had helped her heal up so much quicker when they had first met. The realization of what Jarvan was hinting at rocked over her, her face turning a brilliant shade of red to match her hair. Jarvan could feel the heat pouring from her cheeks as she leaned against him blushing furiously.

"It's so nice out here though." Jarvan said, sighing. He turned back and looked up again to the moon.

"Jarvan."

His name echoed around him, bouncing around in his mind like a shadow.

"Jarvan!"

It was louder this time, forcing its way into his mind and sticking there like a bad memory. It hung over him like a weight on his shoulders. It wasn't the soft, musical notes accented by a bit of outwards toughness that Shyvana exuded. The words were harsh and tired, with anger accenting the deep tones.

"JARVAN!"

The words were hot and searing like a knife. They cut into the back of his head, the pain shooting through of his skull. His body spasmed as the blow came again, shaking him through to the core. Jarvan felt water on his face as he gasped for breath, sputtering and choking as he rolled onto his side and coughed up water. He felt cold spreading through his body, like ice through his veins as rain poured down over his shoulders, splattering him with mud. He sat hunched over, coughing and spluttering as he heaved, with his shoulders shuddering.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV." The deep tonal notes were vaguely familiar to Jarvan, and they sent chills down Jarvan's spine. He looked up in the face of a masked man, his face shadowed by a cloak, his hood pulled up over his head. He sat back on his haunches, clearing Jarvan's field of view, revealing a cloaked female.

"Drowning would be a sad way to go." The man said.

"Don't patronize him, Talon." Jarvan saw a flash of red hair and for a moment, hope pooled in his stomach, but that hope he felt instantly turned to ice as the female pulled her face mask down from her face.

The scar across her left eye was instantly recognizable.

"Yes, Mistress Du Couteau."

_Katarina Du Couteau._

She grinned at him with a toothy smile, her full lips and flaming red hair pooling around her face and accenting the pale skin. Her emerald green eyes shown like gems in the dim, grey light as rain fell heavily.

"So…" She said, posting her fists upon her hips. "Who is Shyvana?"

"I believe your ward here referred to her as my 'trophy bitch'." Jarvan said, pinching the bridge of his nose as his head began to pound.

"You heard that?" Talon said. Despite the face mask he wore pulled up over his nose and mouth, Jarvan could hear that he was impressed in his voice. "How long have you known we were following you?"

"Enough, Talon." Katarina said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. He put his hand to his chest, his long cloak falling back to reveal a long, shining blade attached to his forearm gleaming, despite the rainwater dripping off it. He stepped back as Katarina leaned against the tree. "So, what happened, have a fight with your trophy bitch after you got done screwing her?"

Jarvan froze, his hands grinding into fists as he sighed heavily.

"Why the hell does everyone think I'm intimate with her?" Jarvan said, looking up at her. She gave him a blank look and snorted.

"Really?" Talon said, deadpan. "I can see the way you two look at each other through a spyglass. How the hell can't you two see it?" Katarina jerked a thumb at him, a smirk on her face.

"He may be an ass." She said as Talon shot her a dirty look. "But he is right." Jarvan shot them both a dirty look and frowned. He pulled his leg underneath him, trying to get to his feet. He blinked something salty out of his eyes, his free hand going to his face to wipe it away. He touched his head, dirt, mud, and blood coming away. He whipped his hand, sending a spray of a blood and mud falling to the ground. He was unsteady on his feet, rocking back and forth as his head swam.

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan said. He stood tall, stretching his back, the soreness he felt in the entirety of the body. He looked down and saw both Talon and Katarina looking up at him. He glanced at both of them, the Noxian general's daughter blushing and looking away awkwardly. Jarvan glanced back at Talon and he turned his head coughing.

"He's taller than I thought." Katarina said with a small voice.

"It could be hard to detain him." Talon said with a hint of jovialness in his voice.

"Is that what this is about?" Jarvan said, immediately beginning to search for his lance. His hand when to the short blade he kept against the small of his back. Satisfied that it was there, he let his hand fall to his side as he glanced around. "You two did this?"

"Hardly." Kat snorted.

"You got off the trail of your tro-… ah, dragoness companion." Talon said, covering his masked mouth with a discreet cough as best he could manage as he avoided the unintentional, repeat insult. Jarvan caught the tail end of a discreet nod from Katarina. "You hit a low lying branch in your blind gallop through the forest and ended up on your ass in the mud."

"Oh…" Jarvan said lamely. "My horse?" Katarina jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

"Somewhere that way." She said, putting a boot up about tree she was leaning against. "He was spooked and came to stop at the side of the valley. As for your friends, they're a good ways north of here, almost to the mouth of the valley."

"And you know this how?" Jarvan looked around for any of his gear, but sighed, realizing it was all with his horse. He looked over his shoulder in the vague direction he figured he had come from. He looked back forward, towards the tree Katarina had been leaning against expecting to see her there. As he turned, looking for Katarina before he could fully react, the glint of golden plated steel shining in the dull light for the heavy rain, barely visible through the mist. He felt the kiss of a razor edged blade on his neck and froze, his hands barely raised in front of him.

"Unlike you…" Katarina said sweetly. "Talon and I have to rely on our wits and agility to survive, not brute strength and power."

"Care to test that claim?" Jarvan growled.

"Don't tempt me." Katarina said coldly, her blade still pressed to his neck.

Jarvan slowly fell backwards, until he felt the pressure from Katarina's blade fall away and the pressure on his back as she pushed back against him. Jarvan spun sideways, barreling towards the ground as he lashed out, kicking talon's shins. He failed to make contact with him, the swish of a cloak and another blade barely brushing his temple, taking a few hairs with the slash as he leapt past. Jarvan's hands hit the ground and he pushed off, launching himself backwards towards his lance. He felt a jagged stone cut into his palm as he arced backwards, the surprised, wide-eyed look of Talon glaring up at him. Katarina as well was glaring up at him with a bright eyed smirk, as if as if she welcomed the challenge.

Jarvan crashed backwards, his boots scrapping into the mud as he stuck a hand down into the mud, bracing as a knee went down as well, having overestimated the force with which he had thrown himself. He felt the skin getting ripped off his fingertips, his nails straining as he tried to stop himself. Jarvan felt his boot hit the lance, the weapon giving way in the mud. Jarvan spun and snatched the weapon with his right hand clasping around his lance and ripping it from the ground. He held the weapon in front of him as lightning played across the sky, thunder roaring in his ears and rain began to pour, even harder than before.

Jarvan smiled. It had been a while since he had fought in a good duel.

_Bring it on._


	11. Chapter 11: Missing

"Where in Noxus did they go?" Quinn spat angrily as she galloped along on her horse. She frowned as she peered through the mist that the rain was causing, the entire world grey around her. She raised a hand to her face, wiping the spray away and shaking it off, her cloak entirely soaked. She frowned, only realizing the futility of the gesture as water poured off her hand, the rain still pounding against her cloak. She blinked the water from her eyes, the sweat from the humidity running off her face and stinging her eyes. She shielded her eyes as she peered, still unable to see anything in the dense forest and heavy rain. She heard a second set of hooves approaching rapidly and could only hope it was the prince, but a familiar scar along the left side the face that appeared under the hood told her otherwise.

"Any luck?" Forsythe asked as he galloped up from the side and fell into stride with her. Quinn could only shake her head. As worried as she was about the Prince who had gone chasing after the spoilt dragoness, Valor had yet to return to her from his departure earlier at her urging. She had pushed him to continue help search for the prince, and he had been gone much longer than he should have been. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was starting to worry about Valor.

"We can really only assume they raced on ahead following the massive trail that the dragon left." She said over the sound of their horses' pounding hooves. They clattered over packed dirt and stone, through shallow puddles and not so shallow puddles, the hooves the only sound discernable from the dull roar of the rain.

"So we just keep following the trail?" Forsythe shouted as the raced around a boulder that jutted up from the ground. It was sharp and violent, earth having been disturbed when the boulder had been uprooted forcibly. Claw marks marred the stone, and Quinn could only wonder if they belonged to their target or the dragoness.

"I suppose that's all we can do now." She said over her shoulder.

She slowed her horse as the rounded a bend in the trail, Isaacs stepping into the path ahead of them and waving his arm up and down. Quinn reined her horse in, the beast slowing unwillingly, as if it believed the running meant it would get out of the rain faster. Forsythe slowed to a trot as well as they closed with Isaacs, their horses stamping at the ground angrily in the rain as they came to a stop. It was fall in sheets now, and was little they could see or do in the angry torrents.

"Lieutenant." Forsythe said, a grim look on his face as he popped a quick salute. He only dropped it when the older officer matched it haggardly. The rain was wearing hard on him, and he was moving slower than his normal spritely self. "Any sign of the prince or the dragoness?" Forsythe asked he kept his horse from moving, the beast shifting to the side and shaking the water from its mane. Isaacs pulled back his hood just far enough to let the dim, dreary light glint off his green eyes. He looked up at Quinn and then Forsythe and frowned, the corner of his mouth dropping. He sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping.

"No such luck." Isaacs growled, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked down the trail and then, shaking his head dismissively, he gestured for Quinn and Forsythe to follow. "Has Valor been able to find anything?" His boots splashed as he walked, leading his horse by the reins towards a massive rocky outcropping. Three spires erupted from the ground in different directions, the largest of which stretched up above the spindly tops of the pine trees a massive flat blade. It formed a shelf over some rocks, making an ideal campsite out of the rain. The shelf was flat and stuck out at an odd angle, but it provided shelter from the rain. Isaacs led his horse up under the shelf and tied it off to a fallen log near the corner of the sheltered area.

Quinn and Forsythe dismounted their own horses and did the same, tying the leads to the fallen tree so the horses were well out of the rain. The horses neighed loudly as they shook their manes from side to side, sending water flying in every direction. One of the other horses snorted and neighed, snapping its teeth at the other horse. The third stamped its foot and ignored the other two. Forsythe grumbled under his breath at the animals, having caught most of the water with his body. Forsythe sighed, wiping the water from his face as the horse shot him a cheeky glance. He frowned at the horse who he could swear was smiling at him. He turned, shaking his head.

Quinn pulled the saddle bags from the horse, shaking the water from her own short black hair as she dropped the packs at her feet, most of her hair ending up plastered to her face. Forsythe chuckled as she fruitlessly blew a fine mist of water from her lips as water dripped down her face. She shot Forsythe a dirty look from the one eye that wasn't covered with hair as he started laughing even harder. Isaacs shook his head, a small smile on his face as he retrieved his own saddle bags and pack, propping them up against a rock well under the shelf.

As they began to set up camp, it became apparent that the thunderstorm that had rolled in wasn't going to be letting up any time soon. They had gotten completely unpacked and Isaacs had even managed to light a small cooking fire using bits of wood that had been left under the shelf by travelers that had been passing through the valley before. He had begun cooking a meal of salted pork, stewed tomatoes and some of the crusty bread that they had in their packs.

While Isaacs worked on cooking their meager meal, Quinn stripped out of her wet cloak and hung it on a bit of rock that stuck out of the shelf. It was absolutely soaked, and while the wool was good at shedding water, it could only do some much against the torrential downpour they had been trekking through. Forsythe did the same, wringing his cloak out as best he could, nearly a buckets worth of water crashing to the ground as he did. He pealed his tunic off his back and dug through his pack for a dry one.

"Here." Quinn said from his side. He sat back on his haunches from where he was leaned over his pack, looking to where she was. What he got was an eyeful of rather taunt skin with a thin, soaking wet tunic still clinging to her skin before she beamed him with a dry towel. He nearly fell over and felt his face burn, but he shook his head, peering out from under the towel. Quinn gave him a funny grin and then looked down, realizing what he was staring at as his face turned bright pink. She squeaked as she covered her chest with her arms. She may have only been a teenager somewhere around fifteen or sixteen, but she wasn't exactly lacking either.

"Jerk!" She hissed, her face tinged red. "Look away!"

"Sorry!" Forsythe said turning, still blushing as he dried himself off as best he could. As he managed to get himself as dry as possible in the dismal conditions, he heard a sharp screech and a vicious rustling noise that was rapidly growing louder.

He listened to the commotion for a brief moment and turned quickly, realizing it was coming straight at him. He received a face full of soaked feathers and down as Valor swept down and struck his head with closed talons. He went over backwards, ending splayed out on his back, dazed. Stars danced around his vision as pain in his rear told him he was still awake.

"Valor!" Quinn said happily, as the Eagle lighted down on a rock that was about waist level. She stroked the bird once and then had to shield herself as the bird shook itself dry. She gave the bird a stern look but its clear golden eyes as it looked back and forth, turning its head to look at her with both eyes caused her to grin. She couldn't hide her elation at the bird's return, a wide grin spreading over her face. Forsythe grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet, shooting the tracker a dirty look and the bird an even dirtier look as he wiped water and feathers from his face.

"Stupid animal." He snipped, furrowing his brow. Valor extended a massive wing and smacked his head with a wet wing. Quinn giggled as she struggled to keep a straight face, Forsythe yet again finding himself wet thanks to a cheeky animal.

"Serves you right." Quinn snickered as she set a hand affectionately on the birds back.

"Bite me." Forsythe snapped, brushing the dust from his butt and back. He tried to wiped the feathers from his face, but they mearly clung to the water and sweat. He sighed, stepping into the rain to rinse himself off. Cool water rushed over him and he was finally able to liberate himself from the feathers the Valor had adorned him with.

As he stood in the rain, hunched forward, letting the rain rush down over him, a cracking and crashing sound echoed through the forest over the sound of the rain. Birds squawked and took flight in the rain, angrily searching for shelter as their home was sent crashing to the ground. Valor suddenly was attentive, his head pivoting, trying to hear better and identify the noise. There was a squeal of ripping wood and an earth shaking rumble as a massive evergreen struck the ground.

"Bloody hell." Isaacs said, standing from where he had been fiddling with trying to make tinned tomatoes fit for consumption. His pot had sloshed and doused part of his fire and he rightly wore a sour expression. "What was that?"

"I have no idea." Forsythe said, snapping his mouth shut, a bit surprised to still find it hanging open. He stepped out of the rain and dried quickly, pulling on a dry tunic and then pulling his still damp cloak over his head. He pulled the hood up and grabbed his sword, fiddling with the clasp as he attached it to his belt. "I'm going to go check it out."

"Take the girl with you." Isaacs said with a frown. "I'll stay here with the horses." Quinn raised an eyebrow in Forsythe's direction but shrugged, pulling her own cloak on, wrapping it around her shoulders and clasping it in the front. She checked the crossbow on her hip and then turned to Valor, a determined look on her face.

"Stay here." She spoke soft but firm, but it appeared to have gone complete over the bird's head. Valor snapped his beak at the perch on Quinn's arm, excited to get things underway. The bird shook its head in a dismissive gesture, but it matched golden eyed gazes with her and then turned away, slightly disheartened. It did managed to spit Forsythe with a threatening stare that sent a shiver down his spine. Quinn bounded down off the rocks and brushed past Forsythe and out into the rain as the bird glared at him menacingly, almost daring him to try something with his friend. Quinn paused and turned her hands posted on her hips. "Hurry up!"

"Coming, coming." Forsythe said, finally, breaking his staring contest with the eagle and taking off at a slow jog behind her. They wound through the trees for a few seconds, rain splashing down around them, soaking everything, pouring off their cloaks in sheets. Quinn splashed through puddles, doing her best to trek right through them and Forsythe did his damnedest to avoid them. Every time he missed stepping in a puddle, Quinn managed to slosh water into his boots with her splashing.

As they crashed through the puddles and the undergrowth, Forsythe could feel the ground slanting downwards, though only shallow at first. It quickly became clear that the source of the fallen tree was in the bottom of the depression they heading for, where a small bowl was formed by the rocks. As the pushed their way out of the undergrowth, a bright flash of red hair swirled In the middle of the bowl as the rain turned to steam, bright flames spewing out like a charging dragon. The ethereal beast spread its jaws open and then crashed into the stump of a recently splintered tree with a fiery explosion. It burned hot as the flames exploded over the bark, superheating and exploding several smaller times, the rain muting the flames shortly afterwards.

"Shy-…" Forsythe began to call out and then had to suck in a quick breath as a sharp pain rose in his side. Quinn looked up at him accusingly, her elbow planted painfully deep in his side.

"Quiet!" She hissed. "Don't you want to see what she's doing?" Forsythe froze, and though his mouth hung open, he didn't speak. He clicked his jaw closed, his own curiosity getting the better of him.

* * *

Shyvana paused, looking for another target. The smoldering tree in front of her had been easy enough to topple with enough blows, but Shyvana needed to be stronger and faster in her strikes. She looked at her fists and gritted her teeth, her fists trembling as she clenched them together. Her eyes were glowing red and her skin was almost like scales as she did her best to summon the strength of a dragon without transforming.

Shyvana's shoulders heaved immensely, her breath ragged as rain struck her skin and instantly evaporated. Her body temperature was immense as she brought her hands together in front of her, grinding her teeth and breathing out through her nose as she clenched her entire body, struggling to cause a ball of flame to coalesce in her hands. It started small, barely a spark, but the flames swelled, exploding and swirling around her fists. She brought her hands apart and reached back, spinning and then sprinting at another tree. She reared her arm back and struck the thick tree, flames exploding as she quickly struck with the other hand, another wave of flames rippling outwards. She leapt back, putting distance between her and the tree, her foot slipping in the mud beneath her. She ended up on one knee, gasping for breath.

"I must get stronger…" She gasped between ragged breaths.

She closed her eyes and opened her palms, flexing her body, summoning the flames around her feet and hands this time. They came easier this time, and as she thought, we was able to bend them to her beck and call just a bit, the flames dancing when she tried to form the dragon she had earlier.

She took off at a sprint, flames spinning around her feet, exploding from the ground with every step she took like serpents licking her ankles. She raced towards the tree where two massive dents in the wood marked her past attempt to fell it. She reared her arms back, both of them stretched out behind her. As the tree hit the very edge of her reach, she dropped low and spun her body, sending most of the force into her right arm as it struck with a hard, wide right blow. The tree cracked sickly, the trunk starting to bow as more birds went screaming from their perches. She struck with an inside left that did little damage other than the flames that burned the target, and then another powerful right.

She leapt back again as the tree cracked and fell, the sound as it splintered echoing around her. She screamed, arching her back as the sound turned into a fierce roar. The sound was demonic and sickening, the anger in her voice becoming shrill and then sharp, with a bass roar that rumbled in the forest around her. Flame licked at the back of her throat as she did, her entire body threatening to explode into flames. Steam rose around her as the rain fell.

She spun and lashed out with a high kick, flames cleaving the air where her foot had carved a path. She planted that foot and spun again, striking out with her other foot, flames burning through the new path. She planted that foot and formed fists, flames exploding around them as she did. She brought both fists back and then summoning all of her strength, she crashed her fists together, a wall of flames reaching out around her, expanding in a sphere around her, a wall of steam expanding rapidly as the flames finally died. She took a deep breath and exhaled the dry air around her, before a sheet of humidity and rain crashed down on her.

She sighed, wiping her soaked hair from her eyes with only the faintest bit of exasperation.

_I miss dry weather._

* * *

From the vantage point, Quinn and Forsythe both stood with their mouths hanging open, dumbfounded.

"So you want to tell her that Jarvan is missing?" Quinn said after an extended silence.

"Hell no." Forsythe said, blinking water from his eyes. "I like my body the way it is right now, thanks." He said, deadpan.

"Well… crap." She said, sighing. "I'd do it… but I don't think she exactly likes me."

"Yeah, and you couldn't see the glares that she was giving you when Jarvan was talking to you." Forsythe said, shivering noticeably. "Just an Idea…. But I would be careful about making the vicious, fire breathing monster girl jealous in the future."

"Shut it." Quinn quipped, frowning as she felt her cheeks burn. The thought that she, a simple Demacian farm girl with aspirations to be a Knight could be the target of the Crown Prince's affections made her swoon. The elation she felt soon turned to ice as she remembered what she had just witnessed.

"Fine." Forsythe said, running a hand through his hair as he watched the young tracker's expression turn from a blushed grin to that of gut wrenching despair. He jumped over the edge of the rocks and slid carefully down into the depression, holding his arms wide enough from his body to keep his balance. He jumped off the slope at the bottom, splashing and stumbling awkwardly into a puddle, finding himself sink just a bit as he ran.

"Who goes there?" Shyvana growled her voice returning to that of her human side, though there was definitely anger laced throughout. Flames flickered around his fists as she spun and dropped into a defensive stance, one arm held in front of her, the other held behind her in a ready position to react to any threat.

"Whoa!" Forsythe said, skidding to a halt and wobbling as he nearly went top over teakettle. He raised his hands in front of him defensively, his palms held out towards the dragoness. She took one step towards Forsythe menacingly, her eyes glowing a malicious red.

"Hold on!" He said, backpedalling rapidly. He did not want to get caught within her attack range. "It's me, Forsythe. One of Jarvan's men."

Her eyes faded from the spheres of pure burning fury and reverted to the magenta orbs that were normal to her more docile human self. She blinked, baggy circles under her eyes as water started to hit her, streaming down over her body as her body temperature dropped back down to normal. Steam still rose, but the water no longer sizzled upon striking her skin. The flames about her fists sizzled out and her arms fell to her side as she suddenly began to look weary and exhausted.

"Jarvan?" She said weakly, blinking a few times.

"He is… Ah…" Forsythe stammered. "He's actually missing right now." The words came a lot faster than Forsythe had intended. He cringed, waiting for some sort of lashing out at his blurted statement. He carefully peaked out from his one good eye, and was surprised to find her staring blankly. Shyvana looked at him lamely as if the words had gone in one ear and straight out the other. Forsythe blinked water from his eyes. It was as if she hadn't even heard him. "We were hoping he was with you…"

"No… I…" She spoke softly, her voice barely carrying over the rain. "I haven't seen him. He's missing?" She shook her head, as if she was trying to clear a fog that had settled over her mind.

"What do you mean?" Quinn snipped, finally finding the courage to approach, seeing as Forsythe hadn't been slaughtered. She slid carefully down the slope and stumbled to a stop next to Forsythe. "He was chasing after you when we lost sight of him."

"He was chasing after me?" Shyvana said, her eyes opening a bit further. Her bottom lipped quivered a bit, and she bit it, glancing to the ground. "I'm going to go looking for him." She started to say, but as she went to turn, her legs buckled below her, sending her falling to the mud. Forsythe moved to try and catch her, but the mud slowed him. She hit the deck and splashed into the murky water, her hair splayed out around her. She looked skyward and blinked a few times, pain evident on her face.

"Hey, you alright?" Quinn said, kneeling over her.

"I guess my training took more out of me." Shyvana coughed, her voice ragged.

"Up you go." Forsythe said, grunting as he hauled Shyvana to her feet from the crook of her arms. She stood shakily for a few moments before her knees gave out a second time. This time Forsythe was ready and he was able to keep the dragoness from sinking any further than her knees.

"I don't think I've ever trained so hard before." She said weakly.

"It's fine." Quinn said, sighing as she pulled Shyvana's other arm over her shoulder and around her neck. "Let's get back to the camp."

"Thank you." Shyvana said softly as they helped her up the slope. They carried her to the rocks where Isaacs was waiting with food. When he saw Quinn and Forsythe struggling with Shyvana he jumped to his feet and ran to the edge of the dry area under the shelf.

"What in blazes happened?" Isaacs asked, helping Quinn and Forsythe. He laid out a blanket and they laid shyvana down carefully.

"She's been practicing in the rain for the last few hours." Forsythe said with a small grin.

"She's probably got a fever by now." Quinn said, puffing one cheek out and posting her hands on her hips.

"Where's Jarvan?" Shyvana started to sit up, struggling to right herself.

"Shut yer trap and stay down, you fool." Isaacs said, shaking his head and pushing Shyvana back down with a finger to her forehead. She scrambled weakly, flailing her arms uselessly. He put the back of his hand to her forehead, her face flushed. "You have a fever from the rain. Forsythe, get some cool water, Quinn another blanket."

"But what about…" Shyvana stammered weakly. She struggled to sit up again but Isaacs kept one finger poised on her forehead and she languished against him.

"I told you to stay down, damnit." Isaacs growled. "We've been looking for him for hours now and have had no luck in this rain." He took the blanket from Quinn and tossed it over the dragoness. He took the pan of water from Forsythe and dipped a cloth in it, wringing it out slightly before laying it over Shyvana's forehead. "This should help with your fever."

"I see…" Shyvana said softly, finally giving up on her efforts to rise under her own power. She looked out to where the rain was still falling heavily, her mind wandering as she mentally punished herself for doing something so stupid. While Isaacs, Quinn and Forsythe ate quickly and bustled behind her without her notice, Shyvana looked out to where rain still poured and sighed, her chest heaving under the blanket as she pulled it up to her chin.

"Where did you go, my prince…" She spoke under her breath closing her eyes as sleep ambushed and overwhelmed her.

* * *

When Shyvana awoke, the absent sun had long since disappeared somewhere over the horizon leaving only the steady percussion of the rain hitting the ground to echo around her in the darkness of the night. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes acclimate to the darkness as she glanced about. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, shaking the last vestibules of sleep away. She sat up and looked about the camp.

Forsythe and Isaacs were both asleep around a still smoldering fire and the young Quinn was nowhere to be seen. She struggled to her feet, the cold clammy garments sticking to her skin, the cold air threatening to overwhelm her as she shivered. She pulled her boots on, the damp leather cold on her feet. She looked to where the horses were and noted that her own horse had been tracked down and was now standing idly by the rest of the horses. She stepped lightly and patted the horse gently, the animal snorting and shaking its head at her briefly, but it settled back into its slumber. Shyvana ducked into her pack which had been pulled from the horse and was now sitting against the rocks just beyond the animals. She looked around, and satisfied both Forsythe and Isaacs were still deep in their slumber, she pulled her wet and clammy training clothes over her head and pulled on dry clothes. She pulled her cloak out of the saddle bags and clipped it around her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. She picked out a bit of rudimentary gear and attached it to her belt.

She shifted uncomfortably in trousers; something see wasn't used to by any means. She felt like she was walking bow legged, but the night air was just too cold to avoid not wearing them, especially with the heavy rain still coming down. She pulled the grieves on over her boots, and her rudimentary shoulder and chest armor. Checking one last time to make sure her gear was attached firmly to her belt, she stepped out into rain and looked around, trying to sense anything that could point her in the direction of the Prince.

"And where do you think you're going?" A voice asked above the din of the rain. Shyvana froze, slowly looking over her shoulder. Quinn sat perched on a rocky outcropping, looking down at her a curious gaze on her face. Shyvana frowned, glancing away nervously.

"I want to go and search for Jarvan." Shyvana said, looking up at the girl defiantly.

"You'll never find him in this weather." Quinn quipped, pulling her hood down over her face as rain dripped off it. She shrunk back closer to the rocks as a bolt of lightning lit the sky. "We had no luck earlier." She frowned, looking to where Valor was still resting on his rocky perch. "It'd be best just to wait the storm out and then try and find him."

Shyvana read her expression as a mixture of unaimed anger and a bit of frustration with herself that Shyvana was all too familiar with.

"Is that why you're just sitting around?" Shyvana shot back. Quinn blinked a few times, the look of surprise clear on her face. She snapped her jaw shut and shook her head, snorting and chuckling.

"In case you hadn't noticed, the sun's gone down." Quinn said sarcastically, gesturing up towards the darkened sky. "I wore myself ragged looking for him in this infernal rain after he took off looking for you." Her expression darkened as she poked a finger towards Shyvana's chest. "And thanks to _your_ selfishness, we have a missing prince and I nearly lost Valor in this damned storm." She sneered as the sky rumbled with thunder as if it were angry at her. "And unlike you, _princess_, I haven't been sleeping all afternoon."

Shyvana was surprised as the biting remark the young woman had uttered. Neither of them had gotten along with the other, but neither had been openly hostile either. Shyvana was surprised by the venom in the girl's words she uttered as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her words caught in her chest as she tried to form a response, but the guilt she felt was starting to mount. She had been training selfishly, taking her anger and jealousy out on trees while Jarvan had searched for her. She shivered to think that all of this was her fault.

"I..." Shyvana said, her shoulders sinking as she looked at the ground.

"You? You what?" Quinn snapped, running a hand through her hair. "That's all you ever think about, yourself. Honestly, I don't know what he sees in a dirty, uncivilized beast like you." Shyvana's fists quivered as she felt her temper rising. The girl dropped to her feet and began to turn away, heading for the rocks where her bed was lain out.

"Who are you to call me a beast?" Shyvana said menacingly, puffing her chest out, barely holding back the anger she was starting to feel. The girl shrugged, waving her hand dismissively, causing Shyvana's temper to boil over, her teeth gritting as she spit the girl with a molten stare. "You're simply a petty, jealous, little girl with an overstuffed bird that does all the work. You try to make it look like you're actually doing something useful, but in the end you're just a little girl trying to play hero."

Quinn froze, looking over her shoulder. She slowly turned, the look of surprise on her face turning to anger. "Shut up!" Quinn said, her voice strained. "Just... shut up! We searched for hours in the daylight while you _trained_ and we had no luck. What makes you think that you'll be able to find him?"

"I am not like you." Shyvana growled. Quinn shot her a dirty glance, but her mouth stayed shut. Shyvana matched her glare, daring the young human to try her patience any further.

"How could I forget?" Quinn sneered angrily. She stepped forward, standing face to face with the dragoness, doing her best to stare her down. "You're not a warrior, you're a savage who only cares about herself."

Shyvana's temper flared. "I dare you to utter those words again." She hissed through clenched teeth. Quinn took a step forward, steeling her face, fear flashing across as she gulped. She tried to hide it though as she took a second step forward and poked Shyvana in the shoulder, a grimace on her face.

"You. Are. An. Animal." She said slowly and concisely. "You don't belong with the prince, much less in Demacia. The prince deserves someone who cares for him, not a self-centered brute with anger management problems." Quinn grinned cruelly, her distaste for the dragoness showing itself since the prince was nowhere to be found and both Isaacs and Forsythe were asleep.

Shyvana clenched her fists and ground her teeth. The words struck true and deep though. She was just a beast and a commoner, and hardly even a Demacian at that. Jarvan was a Crown prince, and she could be nothing to him. She looked forlorn as the thought crossed her mind. She struggled to keep the tears from forming in her eyes, her fists quivering as she did.

"The prince would have been better off if he'd have just left you behind in Shurima." Quinn said. "Maybe then he wouldn't have lost all of his men." Quinn raised her nose, taking pride in her Demacian heritage. She opened one eye to see if Shyvana had reacted yet, fishing for something to happen.

Shyvana had cocked her arm back and she struck Quinn hard on the cheek. The young Demacian tracker regretted her words as she tumbled backwards. She looked towards the sky, her mind boggled as to how she had ended up on her tail looking into the sky. Valor rustled, turning on his perch and then screeching at Shyvana, his arm held close to his body. Shyvana saw he wore a bandage on his wing and she felt a pang a regret. She glared at the brid for a few moments, her molten eyes glowing brightly with power. Shyvana looked down at Quinn as the girl tried to pick herself up off the ground.

"I may not be truly Demacian, but at least I'm not a bloody snob." Shyvana hissed, her eyes wide with indignation. "If you want to pin the blame for the death of Jarvan's men on my head, then so be it. At least I mean to do something about it. You're nothing but a sad little girl who's trying to garner favors with the crown by sucking up to the prince... You have no idea what it means to be a true warrior or to face death and stare it down. Jarvan saved my life and I will repay him for that or die trying. It is not for you to decide what is appropriate."

Shyvana's eyes glowed with power as she hissed her threats through clenched teeth. She paused though, as Quinn looked up at her with fear in her eyes. Something clicked in Shyvana's mind at that instant. She stood stunned, the rage in her mind dissipating instantly as she looked down at the frightened teenager who wasn't much different from who Shyvana had once been.

Valor swooped in as Shyvana took a shaky step backwards, almost frightened with the power she held over the human who cowered before her. The eagle bore his claws and flapped angrily in the rain, the bandage on his wing laying upon the rocks, struggling to stay in the air. His piercing eyes were a deadly reflection of what Shyvana's own eyes looked like. She turned and ran, terrified by what she had done. She disappeared into the night, as fast as her feet would carry her.

She ran deeper and deeper into the forest, putting distance between the camp and herself before she finally slowed her sprint. She found herself breathing heavily and stopped to lean against a tree. She put her back to the tree and sank down to the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her father had told her to respect life, not abuse it, and her she was about to slaughter a young girl over some words about a human man. She shivered, almost afraid of herself. She sat huddled under the tree, holding her legs to her chest letting her anger subside until she couldn't remember how long she had been there.

Cracking and crashing echoed through the rain, and the unmistakable sound of steel on steel clashing in the distance.

_Who could be fighting out here?_

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she realized who it could be.

_Jarvan!_


	12. Chapter 12: Duel

Jarvan's chest burned as he spun and twirled, knocking a dagger from the air with his lance as he crashed to the ground, rolling behind a tree. He pressed his back to the thick trunk and took a few deep gasping breaths.

_THUNKTHUNKTHUNK!_

Jarvan could both hear and feel the heavy collisions of the blades impacting the tree against his back. Katarina and Talon were staying well out of his reach, using throwing weapons for the most part to chase him around the forest. They had yet to land more than grazing blows, but they were quickly wearing the prince out as he slogged through the mud. They were going to run him ragged and then close in for the finishing blow. It was obvious. Jarvan sprinted forward into the open, a swish of red and a flash above him catching his attention as he twisted, planting a foot ahead of him.

He sucked a breath in as his foot slid out from under him and he fell flat on his back as Katarina's curved sword cut the air just above his nose as he fell. She hissed at him as she bounded away, kicking off of a root that crested the muddy puddle, disappearing in a flash of bluish light and then reappearing, putting distance between them. Jarvan's chest heaved as Talon appeared at his feet, his eyes full of malice. They almost glowed with hatred, but Jarvan could tell the contempt the Noxian had wasn't aimed at him so much as everything around him.

"You're more nimble than you look." Talon teased through gritted teeth over the roar of the rain in Jarvan's ears. "Enjoy the taste of steel." He mused as he raised his hand back, the sharp blade on his arm splashing rain to the side. The steel shown, even in the rain as he grinned cruelly.

"Bite me." Jarvan grunted as he tucked his knees to his chest and kicked out, sending Talon flailing through the air. He crashed into a tree and ended up on all fours, grasping his gut for breath.

"You got cocky." Katarina said, smirking at Talon. The hooded assassin shot her a dirty look as he struggled to his feet. "He may be down, but he's not out by any means." Katarina licked her lips, a cruel grin matching her compatriots on her own face. Jarvan struggled to his feet, holding his lance defensively in front of him.

"Let's finish this quickly." Talon said, wiping blood from his lip. "I grow impatient with all this dancing."

"Shut up and face me like a man then." Jarvan snapped. Talon's eyes narrowed as he glared at Jarvan.

"I won't go easy on you any longer." Talon said, his voice quivering with anger.

"Talon, wait!" Kat began to say, but she was too late.

_They're divided. _Jarvan read the instance immediately and braced himself for the assassin's charge.

Talon exploded in a cloud of blades and brilliant light, momentarily blinding Jarvan before appearing behind him, his arm reached around Jarvan's neck. Jarvan had a scant second to summon his Lightshield as Talon's cut throat move tried to slice his neck. Jarvan could feel the razor's kiss as the blade seemed to slide off his skin as the rays of pure golden light enveloped him and exploded outwards, knocking Talon to the ground. As the shield faded, Talon came again, blinking towards Jarvan and then vanishing into thin air. Jarvan froze, his blade held defensively with both hands as Talon exploded above him. He cast out a wave of throwing daggers, thin silver cords attached to them as they spun like tops. He pulled them back, the spinning blades caressing Jarvan's leg as he dove away, rolling to his feet and lashing out with his lance. The blow connect with the sound of a gunshot as Talon was just barely able to parry the strike as it came down, knocking him down to his knees.

Jarvan spun, bringing up the butt of his lance up in Talon's gut as he dropped down into a hunch, the second rake of Talon's blades extending just over his head. Jarvan continued his spin as the blades withdrew, bringing his lance up, the broad side of it catching Talon's cloak and shredding it as the assassin did a backflip away. He reared his arm back, aiming for Jarvan's heart as he vanished and reappeared just outside of Jarvan's reach, above him, falling towards him with his blade ready to strike. Jarvan had already raised his own lance, prepared for the strike. The weapon exploded outwards, propelling the blade directly into the unarmored assassin's left shoulder and Jarvan lunged, driving the weapon forward. Jarvan saw the assassin attempt to roll away from the blow at the last second, but it still caught him in his shoulder midair. The aggressive charge had surprised the assassin. Talon reached out and grasped the lance, holding on for dear life before his shoulder was ripped apart.

Jarvan spun and cast Talon aside as he was flung around by the blade, skewered to the end of it. Jarvan retracted the blade with a fine trail of blood dripping in its wake as Talon hit the mud and rolled, slinking back as he fell to his knees, his left arm hanging limply at his side, his right hand grasping at the wound. He hissed in pain, his knees threatening to fall out from under him.

"Fool!" Kat hissed as she raised a fist full of blades, the weapons clasped between each of the fingers on her fist. She threw the blades as Jarvan turned into her attack, the blades impacting heavily on his breast plate, two on either side of his heart, the third sticking into his shoulder guard. Jarvan grunted, the blades barely penetrating his armor. He raised his lance defensively but Katarina was already in the air. She appeared above his lance, kicking off the weapon and spinning in a flourish of her swords, the blades striking his right shoulder and sparking as he tried to toss her over his head. Katarina jumped again, but this time she used her foot to drive the blade in his shoulder deep through the armor and into his flesh. Jarvan grunted against the searing pain as he felt warm, sticky blood begin to run down his arm. Katarina landed softly behind him, her boots splashing in the mud as Jarvan turned, reacting slowly. She raised her blades and kicked off, twirling up through the air as her blades spun around her.

As the Demacian prince raised his lance and deflected most of the daggers she hurled at him, she expected Jarvan to step backwards away from the swirl of death but what came next surprised her. He stepped inwards towards her twirl of steel and cocked his arm back. As Katarina spun, Jarvan coming into view once again, the world seemed to slow down as she realized how open she was. His fist collided with her cheek, sending her flying.

Katarina arced through the air, landing on her back in a puddle of mud, her blades landing beside her, one sticking straight out of the ground only inches from her head. She lay there dazed for a second as she tried to piece together what had just happened. She pushed herself into a sitting position and wiped blood from her chin where Jarvan had slugged her. She struggled to her feet as Jarvan knocked the two blades from his chest plate with his lance and then ripped the blade from his shoulder with a grunt. He cast the bloody blade aside and cracked his neck, holding his lance between him and the two assassins. He sank low on his knees, unable to keep his defensive stance. He struggled to stand, but the pain in his arm was beginning to blur his vision.

"Cheeky." Katarina said, running her tongue over the gash on her lips. Her eyes were wild and happy, as if she was enjoying the pain. Her green eyes glinted with danger and anger, but mischief burned bright in them as well. "Get up you, idiot." She spat blood onto the ground and settled into a fighting stance. Talon shook off the wound, but his arm was still limp at his side. Jarvan frowned. He could take them one on one, but if they decided to come at him together, he didn't know how much he could take.

"I hope I didn't hurt him too bad." Jarvan said, dropping his lance into the crook of his arm, wiping blood from his brow before it could run down into his eyes. Talon was struggling to stay standing, but at Jarvan's jeering he straightened up, obviously doing his best to make it appear as though he was unharmed.

"Don't cross me, boy." Talon growled, taking a step forward. He winced though, his ankle threatening to twist.

_A weakness…_

"Don't compromise yourself any further." Katarina snapped. "We move together."

"I never compromise." He said through gritted teeth.

"Now!" She hissed, taking off at a sprint. She leapt, arcing up towards Jarvan. He raised the blade as he turned, letting her get close, her blade outstretched. Jarvan sidestepped and then struck down with a huge amount of force, as much as he could muster with one arm, his lance striking directly above her shoulder. There was a wet 'crack' as Jarvan heard something break. She crashed into the mud and rolled to her feet, holding her shoulder back as she spun, tossing blades at Jarvan over the top of Talon's head as he charged.

"Pathetic!" Talon roared as Jarvan swatted the blades out of the air. Talon came back across and stepped into a thrust aimed at his head, the assassin slipping below Jarvan's charge. Talon exploded below Jarvan, his blade just barely nicking his chin as he tossed his head back as Talon aimed for is throat. He felt a searing pain a blades lacerated his sides and legs as the assassin came explosively upwards, inside his circle of defense. Jarvan spun backwards and away from the blade, bringing his lance in as he did but he heard the swirl or steel in air behind as Katarina materialized.

Jarvan spun and swept low, aiming to sweep her feet out from under her, but she hopped over the strike and planted a knee squarely on Jarvan's throat. Using his hand to clasp at the wound as he gasped for breath, he had to step away. He felt his arm get shredded as he raised it to defend against Talon's follow up attack, the blade ripping his hardened gauntlet to shreds. Jarvan called upon his Lightshield as Katarina assaulted him with another wave of daggers, and Jarvan launched a standard past her and then struck out with his lance, pulling him from the fray the Katarina and Talon had formed around him, the hurricane of blades covering him in further lacerations and cuts. The Lightshield explode, casting Talon and Katarina back as they finally pierced its awesome power. Jarvan drew himself to his standard, crashing into the mud and rolling, spraying water everywhere as he came to rest at the base of a tree.

He slid to a rest in the mud, spluttering out a mouthful of water and dirt, unable to tell the trickle of cold water and warm blood on his face apart.

Jarvan struggled up onto his hands and knees, using his lance to help him to his feet. He leaned heavily on the tree, his breath burning his chest like he was inhaling fire. He felt blood dripping all over his body, the huge number of deep cuts and lacerations stinging like he had disturbed a nest of digger wasps. His breathing was growing heavy and ragged as he struggled to stay on his feet.

"You're tougher than I would have imagined." Katarina said, wincing as she tried to raise her arm. Her collar bone was obviously broken and the pain showed on her face. Talon nursed the wound in his shoulder as well. Jarvan himself couldn't feel his left arm, the limb shredded and bleeding profusely. The wound in his shoulder was deep and the other lacerations were causing him to lose blood at an elevated rate.

"I do love a challenge." Jarvan said between heavy breaths, with a lopsided grin. His eyes burned, the rain washing sweat and blood into them as he tried to stay standing. "I shall protect the faithful, and while I still have someone who needs me, I will purge the unjust. I plan on honoring that."

"Your allegiances mean nothing to me." Talon spat, raising his blade to his face, looking in the reflection. He pulled his mask down, revealing a gruesome scar that disfigured the bottom half of his face. It started on the right side of his jaw and worked its way up to midway up his cheek and then abruptly split towards the left in two distinct paths. One arced up and over his nose, the other curled down towards his nostril and then down across his mouth. "Yours is merely another body for the gutter." He sneered.

"Is that fear I smell?" Katarina said, snickering at Talon. "Pardon his rudeness, he received that scar in Demacia and doesn't exactly have fond memories of the place." She raised one blade in her good hand, and raised the other to her mouth. She smiled cruelly. "Let the bloodshed begin." She bore her pearly white teeth as she bit down on the leather wrapped handle of the blade.

"As you wish, mistress."

Katarina disappeared in a flash of blue light and Talon exploded in a cloud of blades. They charged forward as Jarvan raised his lance defensively, preparing for the worst of their charge.

A wall of flames erupted across their path, the roar of a demon-like beast echoing through the forest as Shyvana crashed through the undergrowth. She splashed to the ground in front of Jarvan, fury laced in her expression and pouring from her eyes. He stood loosely on two feet, flames swirling around her. Blue scales shown on her cheeks and horns protruded from her hair as it swirled around her, held aloft by the heat of the flames. Steam and smoke swirled in the air as she snorted in anger at the two wounded Noxian assassins who had skidded to a half-hearted stop many feet away.

Shyvana's eyes were reptilian slits and her hands, mighty claws. She took a single step forwards and roared, the sound echoing around the forest and drowning out the sound of the rain and a bolt of lightning rumbling overhead entirely.

Katarina took a step back carefully as Talon blinked lamely.

"Well…. that's a neat party trick." He said off the cuff, the sound of his own voice frightening him. Katarina took a second step backwards as her knees threatened to fall out from under her.

"Afraid, little girl?" Shyvana rumbled, her smile drawing her lips back to reveal long fangs.

"Shyvana…" Jarvan said, a small grin forming on his face. The dragoness turned to look over her shoulder and her eyes focused on him momentarily, anger dripping from her eyes. She blinked once and smiled, a softness in her expression that caused the smile to spread on his face. It melted immediately at the sound of Katarina's haughty, forced laugh.

"Hardly." Katarina managed to say, trying to keep her voice from quivering. "I was only enjoying your friend a little more than I should have." Shyvana froze, the hair standing up on the back of her neck as she clenched her fists. Flames exploded around her hands, threatening to burn her clothes clean away. Her armor hung to her body, clanking and shuddering as flames battered her body. Her cloak smoldered in the rain and flames, only the overly damp conditions keeping it from exploding into flames. The tone that Katarina had spoken in, the implication of her actions towards Jarvan, only proved to infuriate her.

"Now Talon!" Katarina shouted, launching forwards toward the dragoness, hoping her fury had blinded her. Talon exploded in a flurry of blades and light as he launched forward as well. Shyvana reared her fists back, enshrouding them in flames, and struck out, the blow striking both Katarina and Talon with a wall of flames. They were knocked back, but their blades continued onwards, striking at Shyvana through the flames. She roared as the blades barely grazed her skin, one bouncing off the scales on her face. The blow only served to knock her head slightly askew and that only served to anger the dragoness. She sprinted forward, kicking off the mud as flames swirled around her feet. She launched a flurry of left and right hand blows at Katarina as the assassin stumbled backwards. The heat must have been immense because she was struggling to keep her eyes open and Jarvan could see steam rising from the rain that fell towards her.

Katarina's leg struck a root that extended up from the ground and she fell towards the mud. She snuck a hand upwards though, driving a dagger into Shyvana's leg above her knee. She vanished in a ball of blue light as Talon launched a quick counterattack at the dragoness. Shyvana stumbled, her leg reacting slower than is should have because of the blade. Jarvan had stumbled to his feet and tossed a standard between the two of them, the long pole striking the ground just before the assassin. He smacked into it and bounced off, struggling to keep his footing as he bounded back.

"DAMNIT!" He roared as Jarvan snickered at him. Katarina appeared at his side, a grimace on her face.

"Keep it together." She hissed as she raised her blades up before her as best he could. One was still clenched in her teeth and she had trouble forming the words. Jarvan approached Shyvana's side as she pulled the dagger from her leg. She looked at it briefly and then licked the blood from the blade, a demonic grin appearing in response from the appalled look on Katarina's face.

"I'll teach you to attack my mate." The dragoness growled. Jarvan began to blush, but he didn't have time to even compute the words that she had said.

Jarvan leapt backwards as Katarina appeared directly above where he had just been standing and a hail of daggers pierced the ground directly below her as she spun through the air in a graceful pirouette before vanishing again appearing crouched on the limb of a distant tree. Shyvana had merely knocked the blades aside with a blast of flames, many of the daggers splashing harmlessly into the mud. Talon appeared before her, the blades drawing back in, some of them slicing through Shyvana's cloak, others merely bouncing off her armor. Talon sent out a rake of blades as he ducked a high kick, Shyvana's foot cloaked in a ball of flames. Jarvan tossed his lance behind Talon and then took off with a grunt, sprinting towards him. Jarvan let his feet slide out from under him as he launched Talon into the air, ducking the blades as they retracted.

"Shyvana!" he shouted as he slid past, the assassin wearing a stunned look on his face as he hung in the air. Shyvana grinned as she drew her arms back, a ball of flame forming around her fist. She punched out, flames exploding out from her fists as they stuck the assassin. Jarvan rolled and drew his lance from the ground with his good arm and swung, connecting with Katarina as she moved in to strike at the Dragoness' exposed back. Shyvana connected another blow with the smoldering Talon as he arced through the air.

Katarina had slunk back just out of range as Jarvan's lance grazed her arm, leaving a slender scar along her exposed forearm. She raised her head to look for another blow, but one was already rushing in. Katarina felt her cheek burn as the Dragoness landed an open handed blow across her face. The blow snapped her head around, leaving her stunned, the blow burning bright red.

"He's mine, I tell you!" Shyvana hissed as she swirled and launched a flaming kick that landed in Katarina's side. She felt another crack as ribs shattered under the blow of the fury driven dragoness.

Jarvan spun as the swirl of cloak and the heat of slightly singed flesh filled his nostrils. Jarvan spun into Talon, the smoldering assassin's blade poised over his throat, now the back of his neck. Jarvan reared his head back as the Assassin was taken aback and then crashed his forehead into the older man's nose, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching the bleeding wound. Jarvan swung his lance around in an overhand blow that would have crushed his head, but Talon just barely managed to raise his arm to parry it in time. The metal sparked, but Jarvan simply planted his boot in Talon's gut, sending him sprawling, clipping him with the tip of his lance as he flew, the single handed blow just slow enough to avoid bisecting him. The blow merely glanced off his chest, leaving a deep scar along his chest, shredding his cloak and armor. The wound was bleeding profusely as he crashed into the mud. He lay still this time though, only the rise and fall of his chest to show he was all but dead.

Katarina was sent flying in the same direction as Shyvana huffed with anger, the smaller assassin leaving a trail of smoke in her wake, the flaming blows threatening to ignite her clothes. Katarina struggled through the air, arcing towards a tree. She managed to twist herself about and then kicked off the tree, using it to propel herself towards the dragoness. Shyvana was taken aback by the speed at which she came and Katarina was able to pierce through her flames. She passed the Dragoness and used the blade she clenched in her mouth to rake across Jarvan's stomach. Shyvana hissed as Katarina blinked, appeared against another tree and then blinked away again, spinning towards Shyvana in a flurry of blades.

Shyvana was ready this time, her arm reared back. He smashed her fist into the assassin's face, a mighty _CRACK_ resounding. The Assassin was sent flying again and Shyvana followed her arc, using the flames to carry her faster. She leapt up through the air, carried by the heat of her flames and found herself above the Assassin, her arm raised back again. She struck down this time, driving her fist into the Assassin's exposed abdomen, the blow driving her into the ground like a pile driver. She hit a puddle and though it cushioned her fall, it did nothing to protect against the pain that was welling in her abdomen.

She gasped a few times and then rolled to her hands and knees, retching. Blood and bile spilled into the mud as the retching turned to painfully ragged coughing. Katarina rolled over, sucking in air at last, gasping for breath. Her left eye was swollen over, the old scar she still carried almost split back open.

Shyvana nudged Katarina's side, and the assassin squealed in pain.

"Get up." Shyvana rumbled. "I'm not done with you."

"Enough, Shyvana." Jarvan said weakly. The dragon turned to oppose him, but at the sight of the blood beginning to pool around him, the anger drained from her face. He held an arm across his stomach as blood poured from the deep gash, Jarvan struggling to keep head upright. He had fallen backwards against a tree and sunken down to the mud. Shyvana began to step towards him, worry lacing her expression.

Katarina groaned and rolled over in the mud. Shyvana spun and took up a defensive stance in front of Jarvan, her arms extended in front of her. Katarina pushed herself up onto all fours, her arms trembling as she struggled to keep herself from collapsing back into the mud.

"What is it with you Demacians and the face?" Katarina said softly, the sound of rain in puddles filling the air, the deafening sound of battle suddenly absent. "You're formidable." She pushed herself delicately up onto her legs, but as she tried to stand, she sunk back to her knees. She hissed in pain as she sheathed her blades with her good arm, an expression showing a mix happiness and pain as the twisting caused her broken ribs to ache. "You'll fare well when you arrive in Demacia." She wiped some red hair that was plastered to her head with mud from her face, tucking it around her shoulder.

"I…" Shyvana said, trying to hide her surprise. "Thank you… I suppose." Her arms fell to her side as her anger finally subsided. Katarina nodded, finally taking an uneasy step forwards and then leaping into the air, disappearing in a flash of blue light and then reappearing again close to Jarvan. Shyvana began to spin and react, as Jarvan tried to lamely defend himself, all of his strength drained from him by the cold and fighting. He started to react but Katarina was armed with only a coy smile. She leaned down and planted a kiss on Jarvan's cheek. The prince and Shyvana sat there stunned for several seconds as she steped away. She flashed away, just in time to dodge the swing that Shyvana had aimed directly at her chin, to where Talon still lay on the ground. Jarvan's hand went to where he had felt her hot lips pressed to his cheek, his face turning red. Shyvana glared at her and shot Jarvan a glare that pooled ice in his stomach.

"They call it the kiss of death." Katarina said with a smile. "But for you, I hope it prevents it." Shyvana was glaring daggers at her, but Katarina could only smile painfully as she clutched her side.

"Thanks…" Jarvan said, weakly.

"Get up." Katarina said as she clutched her side, splashing the injured assassin with water from a puddle. She sent a cascade of water over him, causing him to cough and groan as he clutched as his chest. He spluttered the water out of his mouth in a heave of coughing as Katarina tugged him to his feet.

"I can't believe I was defeated." Talon said lamely, grunting with pain as Katarina leaned heavily against him as he got to his feet. She grunted as her legs collapsed, Talon struggling to catch her. She squealed in pain as he tried to catch her side where her ribs were broken. She breathed heavily, letting the pain flow from her.

"And that is precisely why you lost, you old coot." She said with a breath of exertion.

"Oh shut it." Talon said, draping her good arm around his neck and helping her up carefully. He nodded to the prince and shot an odd glance that was a mix of both adoration and fear at Shyvana. He leapt into the air and flashed away, disappearing into the night.

Jarvan sat frozen in his tracks, his weapon sitting beside him in the mud as his mind struggle to grasp what the hell had just happened. Only the sound of rain could be heard around him as he blinked the water from his eyes as it streamed down his face. He tried to push himself up, but it only cause blood to pour out of his gash in his stomach. He sat back painfully, trying to put a frown on his face, but he couldn't find the energy for even that.

_Damnit. _He thought, sitting back, letting the pain embrace him slowly. _I've lost too much blood._

"Are you okay?" Shyvana said, sinking to her knees next to Jarvan. Her bright magenta eyes shown brilliantly against the night as darkness swam around the edges of his vision. He stared at her for a few seconds, taking in the gentle lines of her face and the curves of her body, only accented by the shredded clothes and armor that the flurry of blades had left her. Worry crossed her face as Jarvan blinked.

"I…I'm…. tired." Jarvan said softly, his chin resting against his chest as he sank deeper towards the ground. He blinked slowly, his eyelids struggling to rise back up.

"Hey now…" Shyvana said, choking a bit on her own words, as Jarvan seemed to slip away. The mud around him was crimson, and more blood poured from the wound under his shoulder and the deep cuts that decorated his body. Worst of all was his stomach, where blood still poured from the wound. "You're fine!" She said, grasping his hand in both of hers and squeezing it tight. His body was deathly cold, much of the color having already drained from his face. He coughed raggedly, blood spilling down his chin.

Shyvana fumbled with the pouch on her hip, ripping it off her belt and spilling the content out in the mud. A tinkling of glass, some bloodied gauze and a few other things splashed down. Shyvana felt her stomach fall out as she scraped the glass out of the mud. The last health potion that Isaacs had given her had been shattered.

Shyvana suddenly felt broken and defeated as she looked to wear Jarvan lay in a pool of his own blood. Tears clouded her eyes as she looked at him, unable to help him. Her one hope had been crushed due to her own carelessness and now, Jarvan, her savior, her everything, was going to pay the price for it.

"….Thank… you." Jarvan said, looking up at her, speaking softly and kindly, his hand slowly starting to go limp in her hands.

"Wait…." Shyvana begged, tears clouding her vision as she tugged on his hand. "Wait don't go…"

Jarvan could only feel the warmth around his hand, the dragoness his clutching it firmly as tears streamed down her face. Rain poured down around them.

"No…" Shyvana sobbed. "NO!" She screamed as Jarvan's hand fell completely limp in her hand. Tears streamed down her face as she as she pounded on his chest. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" She screamed through wounded sobs, water and tear dripping from her face. She screwed up her brow as sobs shook her body, her shoulders hanging as she leaned against his chest, clawing at his armor, as if she was holding him to the mortal plain. "I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE AGAIN!"

"…I'll… only…. sleep a… lil'…while…" Jarvan said, his eyes slowly fluttering shut.

"JARVAN!" She screamed angrily, her entire body now convulsing with her grievous sobs. Her throat burned as she openly wept nothing she could do for the one she held dearest to her heart. As she cried, and shook with pain, she felt her own body weaken, her sobs slowly dying. They had grown soft and low now as she clutched at his chest desperately, trying to hold onto the spirit before it could escape. "Please…." She croaked. "Come back to me…"

The haunting image of Shyvana crying over his beaten and bloodied body burned his mind like a brand as darkness began to enshroud his mind. He suddenly didn't want to sleep anymore, but his body couldn't move.

He felt frozen as the world around him turned to white, the chilling sound of a young dragoness's oft pain wracked sobs echoing through his mind once again.

It all faded to white.

Pure, brilliant, white.


	13. Chapter 13: Family

Jarvan gasped and clutched at his chest and gut as he sucked greedy breaths in deeply, clawing at his chest. He froze and looked down, only scars and skin where there had been nothing but blood and gore before. He sat up on his elbows as mist swirled around his body. He ran his hands quickly over his body, searching for the deep gashes Katarina had inflicted on him, or even the multitude of lacerations Talon's blades had marked him with. As he took in his apparent, new found health, he blinked rapidly, realizing he wasn't in Runeterra anymore. He sat up and rubbed the sleepiness he felt from his eyes, blinking rapidly again as he looked around. In every direction, bright light seemed to emanate. Mist swirled around his body, masking whatever floor he was standing on.

Jarvan tried to brush away the mist with his hand, but whenever he managed to clear it, more mist swirled into the gap. Jarvan grew frustrated as he tried to brush it aside, his hands just flailing through the air now. He gave up his fruitless efforts and sighed, stretching his tendons and struggling to his feet. His head spun as he did his best to stay on his feet, the world swimming around him. He had difficulties keeping his bearings, as the world around him continued to spin, only an endless sea of white stretching out in every direction. He finally closed his eyes and breathed slow and deep, willing the world around him to slow. The queasiness he felt finally died down and he breathed a sigh of relief.

As he looked around, he shivered, the mist swirling around him, the endless sea drawing towards him. He could feel the cool air sticking to his skin, the clamminess crawling along his limbs and tickling his chest. Jarvan brushed his hands along his arms and huffed, suddenly seeing his own breath appear in front of him.

"I wish I had a cloak." Jarvan said under his breath. A sudden warmth enveloped him as he found a rough material suddenly covering his skin. Jarvan looked down, his skin now wrapped in a dark gray cloak, blinking slowly as his mind tried to register what had just happened. He grasped at the garment, frowning as he craned his neck, trying to look down at his back.

"So you've figured it out." The voice was a deep bass rumble, but much warmer than the harsh tones of Talon. The voice was familiar to Jarvan, but one he hadn't heard in years. He blinked as the name clicked and the image of the face appeared in his mind.

"Grandfather?" He spun and blinked rapidly, an armor and cloak clad figure approaching him with a crooked grin and tired, proud eyes. He stretched his arms out and embraced the prince, who still stood dumbfounded as his grandfather clasped him heartily on the back.

"Ah, yes." His Grandfather mused, his once black hair now shot with grey. He wore it short cropped under his helm, the crown a close replica of the one that Jarvan's father wore. He had a beard that hid the lower half of his face, and though it was short in length, it couldn't hide the twinkle in his eyes that Jarvan remembered so fondly from his youth, and the tug of a smile that always creased his chin. "The prodigal son!" His grandfather chuckled as Jarvan tried not to tear up. "Let me get a good look at you."

"But how can you be here…" Jarvan began to say, as his grandfather held him at arm's length and looked him up and down. He clasped him on the arms a few times, getting a feel of the younger man's solid build.

"The real question is what in the world are you doing here?" His grandfather said, sweeping the young prince under his massive arm. Jarvan's grandfather stood nearly as tall as he did, and it was easy for the older man to sweep Jarvan away under his wing. Jarvan stood a good six inches taller than his grandfather though he knew that once upon a time, his grandfather had been just as tall as Jarvan. He poked Jarvan in the shoulder once and spitted him with a bushy eyed glare that was enough to send a shiver down Jarvan's spine. His father had long ago taught him to fear that gaze, and Jarvan could remember where he had learned it. His great-grandfather, Jarvan I of the House Lightshield, had practiced it, perfected it and passed it down. Though Jarvan had never received it before from his grandfather, it had the same chilling effect as his father's gaze.

"I… what?" Jarvan said awkwardly, twisting his head around under his Grandfather's heavy arm. He could feel the warmth pouring into him from his grandfather though, and it chased the cold in his body and heart away. He finally pulled away from wherever it was his grandfather was steering him and took a step back, frowning. "Grandfather, where am I?"

"You're dead, you fool." An older man stepped into view from behind Jarvan II and frowned harshly. He had an odd look to him, and there were a few similarities to his appearance that Jarvan could immediately place, but the sudden realization had sudden exploded in his mind.

The memories came flooding back to Jarvan. He froze, his mouth agape as he processed the words, images flying through his mind at a rate that would cause a normal man's mind to ache. He could feel his body burn as scars and cuts began to appear over his body, the pain searing his mind. Blood began to spread under the cloak and it began to drip down his body, staining the pure white mist and dirty, crimson red. Blood spilled down over his face and into his eyes, stinging and nearly blinding him. He dropped to his knees and screamed as Shyvana's screams and sobs echoed through his mind. The sound of the wounded dragon, her pain wracked screams, combined with the pain he felt all over his body cause Jarvan to nearly pass out.

"Get ahold of yourself, boy!" His grandfather said, shaking Jarvan's shoulders violently.

"Give him a tap on the chin." The eldest grunted, gesturing to the youngest with his own chin. The elder Jarvan shot the newcomer and dirty look, which he only replied with a equally menacing frown. "That'll sort the brat."

Jarvan IV blinked rapidly as suddenly he found himself back with his grandfather and the empty white space that stretched in every direction. He breathed heavily, his eyes dilated, a cold sweat forming over his entire body. He looked up into the eyes of his Grandfather, their bright sheen matching Jarvan's own eyes in color. It was like looking into a mirror of an older version of himself. He looked back to his hands, expecting to see them coated in blood, but there was only the scarred hands, rough from the endless practice with sword and lance.

"What… what was that?" Jarvan huffed, still gasping for breath. He pulled himself to his feet with his Grandfather's help. His knees wobbled beneath him, but they held steady.

"This place… It reflects whatever you're thinking." His grandfather said, frowning. "Tis a curious place."

"So that means…" Jarvan said, his mind suddenly wandering. As he frowned, a cloaked figure stepped out of the distance, the veil of mist dissipated around the distinctly female form. The eldest Jarvan sniffed once or twice in the air and blinked rapidly, sticking his head up over the youngest Jarvan's shoulder, a cheeky smile on his face as his eyes grew wide. The hood was slipped back by pale hands, the flaming red hair and magenta eyes of Shyvana appearing from the shadow, a coy smile on her face. She stepped deftly forwards, her hips rocking from side to side as the cloak slid away to reveal pale, taunt skin stretch over powerful muscles. She dropped to her knees and sauntered forward on all fours, looking up at Jarvan with a blush on her face. She bit her lip, revealing a long fang as she looked up at him a passionate, longing look on her face.

Jarvan gulped as she grabbed at his cloak, almost slithering up his body. She held onto his collar and extended her tongue towards him, just barely tickling his nose with a brush of her tongue. She giggled and ran a hand up his chest. She leaned towards him, twisting around the prince, pulling herself up towards his shoulder. She moved her mouth towards his ear, again her tongue snaking out and brushing his ear.

"Jarvan…" She whispered.

"Yes?" The sound of three voices responding and the collapse of someone caused Jarvan to pause as the image evaporated before him. He grimaced as he peered over his shoulder, his eyebrow twitching as the eldest man busied himself with picking himself up off the ground and wiping away the blood that was still dripping from his nose. Jarvan's Grandfather blushed and coughed, turning away to regain his composure.

"Welcome to a land where the women are imaginary and the sex is non-existent." The eldest man said, grinning crookedly as he wiped away some blood on his face. Jarvan didn't recognize him, but he could see from his eyes that the man was very much related to him. There was no malcontent in his voice either, only amusement. "She's a feisty one." He winked.

"Please, father." Jarvan's grandfather spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice, his eyebrow twitching.

"So that means this horny old man… is my Great-Grandfather?" Jarvan said with a raised eyebrow. His grandfather nodded. Jarvan paused, his mouth hanging open as his eye twitched ever so slightly. "How in Valoran was he king of Demacia?"

"I'm Jarvan tha' first." The old man said, gesturing to himself with a thumb and a cocky smile.

"Remember the Rune War that started with the beginning of the rule of House Lightshield?" Jarvan II said with a heavy sigh. A wide smile had spread to the elder Lightshield's face. Jarvan cast him a wry glance but nodded slowly, he remembered the history lessons well. "That was because this old coot bedded the wrong Noxian's general's wife."

Jarvan snorted as the old man beamed, his son dropping his face to his hand with a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping.

"Good times." Jarvan senior mused, a fond look on his face.

"You're joking, right?" Jarvan said with a deadpan stare.

"I only wish." His grandfather said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm related to that?" Jarvan said with groan as he gestured to the eldest Jarvan. The eldest Jarvan blinked a few times as he smiled proudly, his thumbs hitched in the corners of his breast plate. The comment finally registered with him though and his face turned red as he turned towards his great grandson and opened his mouth and raised a fist above his head to protest.

"You little..." He snorted. "Welcome to the afterlife, brat." Any further comment was forestalled by the sudden frown that clouded the young prince's face. The eldest Jarvan crossed his arms over his chest and looked forlorn. He knew something dangerous was coming as it flashed in his great-grandson's eyes.

"The afterlife?" Jarvan said, frowning, unable to comprehend the thought. "But wait… what about…" His mind blanked as he thought back to all he had been through. "Wait, but all of my friends… my… Shyvana…."

"They're now in a different place, my boy." His grandfather said, setting a hand heavily on his shoulder, a frown on his face.

"I…" Jarvan suddenly felt a weight on his chest like someone was standing on him. The emptiness he had only recently banished suddenly struck him, his heart almost falling out of his chest. The world around his began to cloud grey, lightning flashing dangerously as the steadily darkening clouds began to spin. They swirled around the three Demacian Royals, as the winds began to batter them. A funnel cloud began to form above as Jarvan's grandfather grasped the chest of his cloak and shook him. Jarvan didn't respond, his soul seemingly drained from his body. His eyes were blank and void of life.

"Ah hell." The eldest said his voice nearly completely swallowed by the roaring winds, looking upwards at the winds threatened to toss him aside. His long beard whipped against him, standing almost vertical on his face. He stumbled backwards as a gust of wind threatened to topple him over. He reached out and clasped the air, a sword appearing in his hand. He flipped the blade over and drove the blade deep ingot he ground, struggling to hold on the blade.

"Jarvan!" His grandfather roared at him over the banshee's howl of the storm that was coming down around them. "JARVAN!" He had a conflicted look on his face, but he didn't have a choice as the wind threatened to blow him away. He reared his fist back as he was lofted, striking his grandson on the jaw. The storm evaporated instantly, dropping all three of them to the ground abruptly.

Jarvan was rocked back to the ground and fell heavily as his grandfather fell the opposite direction. Silence filled the void before several groans and a heavy sigh filled to void. Jarvan blinked the stars from his vision as he slowly regained his composure, lying there on the ground, the mist swirling over him. His vision seemed eerily empty as he stared out a an empty, colorless void that stretched endlessly.

"Control your emotions, young one." His grandfather said, rubbing a lump on the back of his head gingerly. "It's usually quite enough to deal with our own emotions, much less yours."

"What he's saying is keep a lid on your shit, son." His great-grandfather said with a grunt. The eldest Lightshield pulled himself to his feet and sighed, rubbing his back and shaking the discombobulation from his head. He blinked rapidly and then grasped out randomly at the air, as if he was grasping at pixies that danced in his vision. The middle Lightshield sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly at his father's shenanigans.

Jarvan sighed, sitting up slowly with a grunt of exertion. He sat forward heavily and rested his chin on his fist, his arm perched upon his knee. A small storm cloud brewed above him, the dark grey swirling mass of vapor turning an angry black and then beginning to dump sheets of water down on his head. Jarvan sighed heavily, letting his shoulders sink as the water washed over him. He pulled his hood up over his head, assuming a thousand yard stare that was bordering depression.

"Well that's new." The eldest Jarvan said, sticking his hand into the downpour. He pulled it out and shook it dry, chuckling.

"It's not polite to be laughing at your great-grandson's peril." The middle Jarvan said, looking at the small cloud that stewed above his grandson's head. He reached out to poke it, but drew his hand back as a small lightning bolt jumped out at him, hissing and popping at him angrily. "Cute." He smirked. "This is quite the oddity, though."

"What is?" The eldest Jarvan asked, finally looking away from a book he had materialized. The book vanished from sight as he tossed it over his shoulder, becoming a wisp of vapor as He moved towards the small cloud.

"This cloud." The middle Lightshield said, pulling a stick from thin air and reaching out towards the cloud. The small cloud popped and hissed with electricity as the stick grew closer to it, but Jarvan II was never able to make the two connect. He poked at it for a few minutes before he finally grew bored with his vague fascination of the vapor wisp. "All joking aside," He said, coughing discreetly as he discarded the stick into thin air and his father snickered, "I've never seen emotions manifest quite this pronounced or abruptly."

"What are you thinking?" The elder asked. Suddenly the aloof attitude and carefree manner were now gone. In a split second he had transformed from a aging goof to serious minded martial officer. Even his stance was martial, the lazy and easy going manner in which he carried himself now a hardened and prepared veteran. He had become every ounce the soldier and leader that had shaped modern Demacia.

"I'm wondering if the extraordinary reactions can be attributed to a disturbance on the mortal plain." Jarvan II stroked his beard as he considered the cloud.

"You're think he's not actually dead?" Jarvan I suggested, a frown still hidden under his beard. Jarvan's ear perked up at the news.

"Quite possibly." His grandfather said, nodding.

"So this means I might not be dead?" Jarvan said, getting to his feet, a hopeful look on his face.

"Tis only a theory, but this may be just a figment of your imagination." The eldest Jarvan said with a cheeky grin. Jarvan stared daggers at him, his eyebrow twitching in irritation.

"My father was a legendary prankster." The middle Jarvan said, nodding sagely. "He was enough of a bloody minded fool that It wouldn't be hard to think it could carry over into the next life."

"Yup!" He wore a proud smile, ignoring the insult and taking pride even in his infamy through death. "Twas truly the accomplishment to not be seen as a fool."

"Indeed father." The younger Jarvan said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"But if this isn't the afterlife, then how are you both here?" Jarvan said, reaching out an arm towards his grandfather. His hand struck his armor plate, the slow impact hardly enough to do more than tell him that the person he had been conversing with was very much real. Jarvan turned to his great-grandfather and began to stick his hand out. He paused, thinking it better to not try and poke him. The elder warrior looked at him with scorn, but he had a tough time keeping the expression on his face. He cracked a smile.

"Here, of course." his grandfather said with a grin, tapping jarvan on the left side of his chest, just above heart. "We've always been here."

"Did you ever wonder why the Lightshields rose to power?" His great-grandfather said with a hint of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"I swear, if this is another story about you chasing tail, I'll... I'll..." Jarvan clasped his mouth shut and frowned. He didn't think that there was anything he could truly do to make the old man pay.

"Oh, just listen." His great-grandfather said, rolling his eyes. "The Lightshields have always been legendary warriors and commanders. When I married your great-grandmother, her father accepted me as his new heir-apparent, and when he died fending of a Noxian incursion, I was thrust upon the throne during a very turbulent time. The great Rune Wars and been ravaging the lands for hundreds of years and from little news I gained from my own son, they had yet to subside when he passed on from the mortal realm." Jarvan's Grandfather nodded quietly, gesturing for his father to continue. "When I came to power, I had to fight to keep my position, many people didn't appreciate that a noble and a seemingly illegitimate heir had inherited the throne. It wasn't an easy process, but Demacia was slowly losing a war that would have doomed her and her people. I tried to extend an olive branch to the Noxian's before we were destroyed, but they were unwilling to accept peace with conditions. They wanted to be the sole power on the continent. I engaged in talks with a Noxian General that had camped outside the walls of the capital. It hadn't progressed very far when he caught his wife gazing upon me with interest and decided I was inciting her and trying to take his wife for my own."

"I knew that the story wasn't true." Jarvan said, the frown disappearing from his face briefly, the smile tugging at his mouth only barely able to not break through the grimace.

"With time stories grow larger than life, young one." His great-grandfather said with a grin. "But he decided that it was time that I left of be beheaded and so I retreated to our keep and prepared my troops."

"What happened?" Jarvan asked. He felt at home listening to stories from his great-grandfather, it was something that he had sorely missed. His Great-grandfather grinned devilishly.

"We struck first in the dead of night. They didn't even see it coming. We drove our attack deep into the heart of the enemy and drove them back. Ever sense then, we've been fighting to reclaim our lost lands and been doing so slowly." He sighed heavily, as if suddenly the weight of the world had fallen upon his shoulders.

"The fighting has stopped, at least for now." Jarvan said, understanding the pain and weight that had rested upon his shoulders long ago.

"I suppose that is good news." His grandfather said with a grimace. "But the look upon your face says otherwise."

"The fighting is contained, not so much over." Jarvan said, rubbing his head. "The is news of a League where champions fight for power and decisions. All manner of beasts and otherworldly creatures have already been recruited into the fold, and many city-states have sent representatives. With the last news that I heard, Demacia had yet to sent a representative, but it has been a long time sense I have gotten accurate news from home."

"I assume this journey of yours has something to do with that young woman we saw before?" his grandfather said with a small grin.

"Not entirely." Jarvan said. "It's a bit difficult to explain..." He frowned. "You see..." His great-grandfather simply smiled and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"My boy, there are few things as magnificent as the relationship a man and a woman share." He said with a knowing grin and a smile on his face, a twinkle in his eye. "If she mean as much to you as the look in your eye suggests, then I'm sure she's an amazing young woman. Treat her right, and she'll stay with you till the end." Jarvan opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't form the words. His heart ached but at the same time, he wouldn't have given up a moment of the short amount of time he had forgone with the young dragoness for anything in the world. He sighed heavily, a sad smile on his face. His grandfather put a hand on his other shoulder.

"_This is an interesting place."_

Jarvan looked up from where he sat on the ground, his arms twisted across his chest, trying to bottle up the pain inside of his heart. He didn't want to bring any pain to his family again, and he needed to deal with his own problems. He struggled to his feet and spun around, looking for a face to match the voice. It was female, but not one he could recognize. It was soft but firm, with a regal sound to it that had a commanding presence, but lacked any vanity that characterized the many nobles he had known.

"_Do you wish to return to the mortal realm?"_

The voice came again, still soft, but now the tone had lost the sense of interest and the tone was deadly stern. Jarvan frowned and looked about again, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" He shout as the mist swirled around his feet.

"What has gotten into you now?" His grandfather asked, his brow raised and his eyes narrowed.

"Did you not hear it?" Jarvan said gesturing vaguely upwards. He did not know from which direction the voice had come from and even in his own eyes the gesture seemed futile.

"Hear what?" His great-grandfather asked, a frown crossing his face. He glowered at the show that the youngest Jarvan was putting on, unimpressed.

"I..." Jarvan paused and frowned. "It's nothing." He sat back down to weird glances from his forefathers, but he paid them no head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to remember the meditations that Xin Zhao had taught him so many years ago as a hot-headed child. He slowed his breathing and let the world around his almost fall away, until he found himself amid an ocean of mist, the silence now surrounding him.

"_Good, you learn fast." _

The voice was closer this time, resounding around him like an echo from all sides. He took a deep breath and held if for a few seconds. As he released the breath, he replied to the being that was inside his mind.

"Who are you? How did you find me?"

"_That is not important right now." _The voice was polite but dismissive, as if it knew something he didn't. _"What you need to know is that a great calamity is approaching, and it is up to you to prevent it."_

"Wha-..." Jarvan caught himself speaking aloud. He breathed in and out slowly again, and then thought to himself. _"What calamity?"_

"_The dragon you drove from the badlands, the ancient dragon known as Kampf, seeks to ignite war again in Runeterra."_

"_He is but one dragon, how could he wage war on all of Runeterra?" _Jarvan frowned. The thought of reigniting the wars that had lasted centuries upon centuries could all be undone due to his meddling was a sobering thought.

"_He seeks not to wage his own war, but it start a war between Demacia and Noxus once more." The voice spoke revrantly of the wars, as if she was afraid of the consequences it could bring. "The wars of old had wide reaching effects, even into my own realm, and I was charged with keeping the peace of this realm to preserve my own."_

"_You seek to further your own goals for reasons that you could not possibly prove._" Jarvan thought, trying to hold the anger behind an invisible wall, though it threatened to spill over and into his mind.

"_Trust in my visions." _She said softly. "_In time, you will come to understand._"

Jarvan sighed, but breathed deeply, trying to do his best to hold the meditation.

"_Why should I trust you?"_

"_You have no choice if you wish to return to her." _Jarvan felt ice form in his stomach as nausea bubbled in his throat, the painful thoughts of never being able to see Shyvana again almost overwhelming him.

"_What must I do?"_ Jarvan said after a long pause.

"_You will be face and conquer your fears, young one." _

"_That doesn't sound so hard."_ Jarvan said trying not to chuckle or breath a sigh of relief.

"_Take head._" She said, her voice suddenly stern and cold. _"Your emotions can empower you, but they can also betray you."_

She paused as Jarvan berated himself for allowing himself to immediately make an assumption about his task.

"_Let your faith and steel remain unbroken, for us to rebuild, we must first destroy."_

Jarvan felt a draft before him and opened his eyes. Before him stood a massive set of heavy stone doors. The were dressed stone, carved and embedded with dull gems and ornate designs, well worn wooden handles protruding just above waist level. Jarvan's eyes followed the intricate spirals that wound along the surface of the door, but they were hard to follow and he couldn't follow them but for so long before his vision seemed to blur and his head began to ache. He blinked the pain away as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked back to the door. It had a mesmerizing affect that seemed to draw him in.

He rose to his feet and looked at it, hardening his heart and preparing himself for whatever could be inside.

"_Your time has come. Approach the door when you are ready." _Jarvan nodded and breathed deeply. He imagined his armor back upon his body and heard his cloak flutter and felt the comforting snugness of his armor upon his body. The weight upon his chest and shoulders was familiar, and it put him at ease. As he approached the door.

"Leaving so soon?" His grandfather said with a sad smile.

"I have people who need me." Jarvan with a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. It had been nice to reunite with his grandfather and to finally meet his great grandfather, but he had more important matter to attend to now.

"Another one of life's small pleasures." His great grandfather said, approaching his great grandson. He reached out and clasped Jarvan by the shoulders. "Remember to lead your men well and treat your women with respect." He added a wink at the implication.

"And remember, that no matter where you go, you'll always have us beside you." His grandfather said as he set his hand on Jarvan's shoulder and use the back of his free hand to rap his knuckle oover his heart. Jarvan nodded and smiled proudly. His grandfather nodded approvingly and left his hand fall to his side, a grin on his face. "You'll never truly be alone."

Jarvan steeled his nerves as he stepped towards the doorway.

It cracked open and tendrils of pure blackness spilled out, staining the pure white that had surrounded him. Jarvan felt the tendrils embrace him and run over his skin, sending chills up and down his spine. They slithered up under his armor and along his bare skin. They left cold and greasy, but he ignored the sensation as he stepped forward unto the breach. He stepped into the darkness as it spilled out to embrace him, drawing him in and swallowing him like some great demon. He heard the shudder of the doors closing behind him and leaving his trapped in the realm of pure darkness.

"_You shall be judged." _

The voice faded away, the proclamation ominous and foreboding.

"PITIFUL PRINCE!"

The screech sent ice through Jarvan's veins.


	14. Chapter 14: Judgement

"Do you hear that?"

The voice startled Shyvana as she coughed raggedly, her throat parched. She opened her eyes, sleep continuing to avoid her as she sat with her back to a wall of rock. Her eyes were bleary and her nose stung from where she had been wiping at it too much. Shyvana pulled Jarvan's body closer as she heard footsteps slogging closer in the rain that poured outside the small cave that she had sought cover in. A source of orange light loomed out of the rain and mist as Shyvana had to shield her eyes, the bright light painful.

"Is anyone out there?" The voice called again. "Hello?"

Shyvana was frightened, but she didn't want to abandon Jarvan again. She cradled his head in her lap gently, his pale skin glowing in the dim light. Two distinct sets of splashing boots loomed out of the mist, one slightly lighter than the other. Shyvana could also hear the 'pitter-patter' of rain striking heavy cloaks.

"Ferron, I told you there was nothing out here." A female voice said quietly, snipping at the male as she the boots stopped approaching momentarily. "I don't like this... let's just go back."

"Mara, the blood leads this way." The man said, his voice growing louder as the slogging resumed. "See, here on the tree. More blood." A pause in the splashing. Shyvana shrunk back, pulling her hood down further around her face. She just wanted to be able to disappear, her entire body numb from days of endless pain and suffering.

"Do you really want to find out what caused all this blood, all that destruction in the forest back there?" The female voice said. Shyvana could hear the fear in her voice.

"I do." The man said, frowning. "Whoever did knocked a tree down right across my fence. They need to pay for the damages." Shyvana pushed herself back against the wall, trying to hide just inside the lip of the cave. Her breaths were slow and ragged, but her heart raced. She was tired, cold and exhausted, in no way ready for a fight. As the flickering light grew closer to the mouth of the cave, Shyvana held her breath, not wanting to make a single sound.

"Hello?" The female voice said, just from outside the cave. "See Ferron, no one's here, lets go back."

"Hold your horses, Mara." The man said, a lantern appearing from the edge of the cave, beaten and well worn. Well worn fingers carried the lantern, raising it as a hook-nosed old man stuck his head into the cave. Shyvana froze, watching him with frightened eyes as he looked up and around the cave opposite of where she was hidden.

_Don't look over here... don't look over here... _Shyvana thought to herself. The man's gaze first fell upon one of Jarvan's boots though, and hia gaze followed the body upwards till he met Shyvana's gaze. He opened him mouth as if to speak, but his jaw merely hung open, blinking lamely as he tried to comprehend the sight of a young woman, bloody and battered, clutching a dead body.

"Don't worry now, I'll get you out of there soon!" He stuttered, surprise wide in his eyes. "Mara! Mara!" He waved the woman forward from somewhere outside the cave.

"What? What is it!" The female voice said, her husbands surprise now evident in her own voice, urgency and worry lacing the words.

"There's a man and a young woman in there." The man said, handing her the lantern. "Quick, quick, take it." The woman poked her head into the cave, glancing around. She was a small, frail thing, with rosy cheeks and long grey locks framing her face. She was just as surprised as her husband, shock in her gaze as her cool blue eyes locked with Shyvana's magenta gaze.

"She's covered in blood..." the woman gasped. Shyvana cowered back, pulling Jarvan with her as the old man lowered himself into the cave, clambering down over a few of the rocks. "Are you alright dear?" The woman finally said, covering her mouth with her hand. Shyvana pushed her back against the wall again as the man drew near. She wanted nothing to do with the humans. They had taken Jarvan from her, and she knew not horrors they would bring with them this time. "She's afraid, Ferron, and she's got to be freezing."

The man nodded slowly, raising his hands before his chest as he kneeled before Shyvana. He did his best to appear nonthreatening, but right now, with the only man who had shown her true kindness clutched in her arms, unmoving and cold, Shvyana wanted nothing more that to crawl over and die.

"I don't want to hurt you..." The man said softly. "I only want to help." The woman slowly lowered herself down over the rocks, peering over her husband's shoulder. Shyvana looked at them with large, fearful eyes, fear freeing her in place.

"Please, young lady," She said gently, holding her hand out, "Are you okay?" Shyvana blinked at them, unsure of how to react. Her mind was slow to react, the days of sleepless nights, the cold, and the lack of food affecting her mind. She should have fought or fled if she could, but all Shyvana could do was weakly shake her head.

"What happened to your friend?" The woman said, a pang of sadness entering her voice. "Were you attacked by bandits?" Shyvana could only look on with gleaming eyes. Heavy bags lined her eyes and sleep threatened her state of mind.

"She's caked in blood and mud, Ferron..." The woman said, a tear forming in her eye. "What in the world could have caused this..."

"The young man is pretty banged up... look at the deep wounds." The man said gesturing carefully to Jarvan He had lowered his voice to barely a whisper, but in the confines of the cave, Shyvana could here just fine. "I bet the blood is his... He must have died trying to save the young woman here."

"How sad..." the woman said sniffing. "Please, young lady, let us help you... was this your husband?" Shyvana felt her eyes began to sting as tears welled up. They stung small cuts as they ran down her face, leaving steaks on her cheeks. "...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a painful memory."

"Now, now..." The man said, consoling Shyvana as he reached out slowly. Shyvana was too tired, to lash out, too worn out to fight. She closed her eyes and whimpered softly as his hand approached, but when nothing happened, shyvana opened a single eye. He put a hand gently on Shyvana's shoulder as pain wracked, half-choked sobs began to shake her body. "Come here, young one, it'll be okay."

The man carefully lifted Jarvan out of Shyvana's lap, laying his head down on the stone. He shook his head sadly as he pulled the blanket that Shyvana had loosely wrapped around him up and over his head. The woman pulled Shyvana gently into her arms as Shyvana broke into loud sobs, her shoulders heaving.

"Shush now, young one, It'll be okay... It'll be okay." The woman cooed, stroking Shyvana's dirty hair. "She's freezing, Ferron... we have to do something." The old man looked down at Shyvana for a few moments before he nodded solemnly. He had seen the product of a bandit attack many times before, and it always ended the same. He could see the shock and trauma in Shyvana's face, unable to respond. He sighed.

"We'll take her home and get her back to health." The man said sadly. "God only knows what happened to her when they were finished with him." The man's anger flared for a second at the thought of some unspeakable act, causing Shyvana to whimper and curl back away from him. His wife scowled at him.

"Ferron!" She hissed angrily. The woman turned back to Shyvana, holding her close, wrapping her in her cloak. "There, there dear, everything will be alright now." Shyvana nodded weakly, barely able to respond to the couple as they eased her up towards the mouth of the cave. Shyvana resisted slightly, looking back over her shoulder to where Jarvan lay, her eyes clouding with tears again.

"We'll see that he received a proper burial." The man said reverently, closing his eyes and shaking his head sadly. The man helped Shyvana out of the cave, carefully clambering over some rocks, and out into the rain. Shyvana shivered, the cold air swirling about her as rain poured down over her face. Shyvana looked upwards to the sky as rain poured down her face, hiding the tears that still trickled from the corners of her eyes/ The man helped his wife from the cave, and wrapping an arm over his neck he helped Shyvana towards the wagon he had tied off to a tree.

A tall young man stood holding a lantern, peering through the mist, a cloak wrapped around him against the rain.

"What was it, father?" He called out, stepping closer. His father, Ferron, waved him over and gestured for him to take Shyvana's other arm. The youth splashed forward, shining the light on her face, the look of disbelief clear on his face. "A girl... and she's covered in blood..."

"It get's worse." His father said with a grimace. "We found her clutching a dead body. Probably her husband." The father said sighing heavily. "They looked to be attacked by bandits, and they did a number to him." The father shook his head sadly. "Help me get the girl to the cart... then we need to fetch the body."

He spoke softly so as not to upset Shyvana, but she heard him regardless, her mind almost numb as the small family helped her without so much as a second glance. Her vision swam as she was guided towards a light in the distant mist.

Black bloodstains littered the area as a pair of horses sat miserably in the rain. The old man and his son helped Shyvana into the back of the covered cart, wrapping her in a thick blanket as she curled up into a ball. The lady clambered into the cart as well, and sat down beside Shyvana, still holding her close, stroking her hair gently. Shyvana felt her eyes drift shut as her sobs subsided, sleep threatening to overwhelm her. He could feel the gentle stroke of a hand against her hair and her mind raced back to her time with Jarvan atop the watchtower. She was reminded of Jarvan's warm presence and was overcome with grief again, but her exhaustion won out, and the young dragoness drifted off to sleep.

The last thing she remembered was the cloth wrapped body being pulled into the cart, laid out carefully, and then the gently rocking of the cart as it trundled down the path.

Darkness swirled around in every direction.

Jarvan raised his lance, and held it in front of him, looking into the darkness with squinted eyes, wishing he had Shyvana's senses to help him. The thought caught him off guard and he immediately felt a pang of grief in his heart. He had let his own demons get the best of him, his instincts to fight causing him to blindly take on two Noxians without thinking about the consequences. He had originally taken pity on the dragon, his own sense of chivalry getting the best of him, but soon the that pity had turned to admiration. The young dragoness was a survivor, and despite being outcast by her own people, she had lived happily with her father until that peace was turned on it's head by Kampf. Jarvan admired her resilience, and despite her initial trepidation towards the Demacians, the sense of trust that Jarvan had fostered with her had quickly brought them close.

Jarvan had been protective of the young dragoness at first, as if he was caring for a child or younger sibling, but the feisty young dragoness was anything but a child. In some ways, she was still a child, her views of the world were both frightened but also curious about human life. While tracking the dragon Kampf down, Jarvan and Shyvana had spent much of their time just talking with each other, away from the other members of their small group. Young young dragoness had a very wide eyed view of the world, and everything she encountered fascinated her. Be it the rock formations, the trees or even a simple butterfly, she was enthralled by all of it, and Jarvan was enthralled by her. It was both thrilling and refreshing to see the world around them in such a new light. It was something he had never slowed down to do before and had started to regret not doing.

He had always been busy with training or tutoring, life as the Demacian prince had caused him to become the Demacian prince, Jarvan IV, not his own person. He had been defined by his lineage and his purpose, nothing else. He hadn't realized it until he had met Shyvana. Even during his self decided journey of self-discovery he couldn't escape the mantle of royalty. His men did treat him as as a leader, but he was also their prince. He couldn't escape it.

Jarvan sighed heavily, a frown crossing his face. It wasn't exactly something he could talk about to his men. They expected him to be a valiant leader, a prince, their prince, but Jarvan only felt doubt. His heart ached as his thoughts went to the men who he had let die in his selfish journey. Jarvan had to shield his eyes a flare of light burned above him. A semi circle of glyphs burned brightly just ahead of Jarvan. He frowned as he tried to read the glyphs. He took a step backwards as the glyphs burned brightly as they shifted and morphed into letters. The letters shifted and turned, finally forming into words.

"The truest opponent lies within..." Jarvan read the text and frowned. "If the opponent is within..."

A distant rumble shook Jarvan's entire body. He could feel every ounce of his being shaking as it grew louder. His body shook even as the sound faded, and Jarvan was surprised as he found the shaking coming from his knees. He swallowed his fear as best he could, trying to stop his knees from quaking

"Show yourself!" Jarvan bellowed, his impatience and fear beginning to mount in his chest.

The steady reverberations of heavy footfalls began to echo around him from every direction. Jarvan took uneasy steps backwards towards the door and fell backwards when he didn't run into the heavy stone doors. He looked over his shoulder and blinked, the door gone. He skittered backwards away from the darkness that began to consume the small pocket of light around him. He reached around, feeling for his lance, unable to find the familiar leather wrapped steal weapon. He was panicking, his heart racing as he looked around. He looked for a familiar gleam, the cold steal, anything he could find but the weapon was nowhere to be found. He looked into the soupy black darkness that now surrounded him on all sides as he cowered on a small island of light, the pure white floor still shimmering below him.

Jarvan looked upwards as six gleaming red eyes loomed out of the darkness, a massive Grey beast stretching upwards as heavy footsteps thundered forward, drawing the beast forward. Jarvan gulped as the beast lumbered out of the darkness and into the flickering light cast off by the burning glyphs. Jarvan looked upwards at the beast. He recognized the monster, something he had seen only once before.

The beaked mouth of a murderous raven looked forward, it's bulging, burning red eyes shining the color of blood. The monster roared, the tortured sound of a hundred men and women emanating from the black abyss at the back of the demon's throat. The sounds was an ear-splintering screech that cut at Jarvan like knives, rising in pitch and spraying the prince with hot air and bits of saliva. Raven's swirled around the beast like a murder of crows. They swooped and dived, a black cloud that threatened to consume anything they touched.

"Swain..." Jarvan said, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

The Raven merely cocked its head to the side and blinked the 3 great eyes along one side of its head at him, looking down at him as if he had only just noticed the insignificant man that stood before him. Jarvan had seen the demon bird before, but this wasn't the demon that haunted his memories. The creature was much larger and mutated, patches of dark green run up and down the beast that looked slimy and grotesque. Jarvan quickly pulled himself to his feet, doing so slowly and deliberately as he did, trying his best not to startle the demon and its flock of ravens.

"You've changed..." Jarvan said, his voice cracking as his fear got the best of him. He looked around quickly, his eyes darting about as he looked for his lance. As he began to turn his head, the demon before him began to bubble, the massive slimy patches beginning to boil like they were being boiled. Steam erupted from the skin as they seemed to melt away, revealing the bloody masses of human faces, each wearing the same horrified and tortured expression.

The faces all lacked skin, the shiny green mass pooling around his feet and slowly trickling toward Jarvan. The liquid, writhing and slithering along the ground suddenly shot outwards towards Jarvan, wrapping around him and forming a massive glyph below his feet. Fervently looking around, Jarvan began to dive away, but the glyph burst into flames, bottomless holes of another dimension tearing open as great talons sprung forth from the ground. They snapped down around Jarvan, trapping him in place as the demon reared back, bellowing it's tormented screech in another painful cry. The faces that lined it's body all opened their mouths, the sound of hundreds of voices crying out in agony as the flock of raven swirled about, diving towards Jarvan.

Frozen in place, Jarvan couldn't move a muscle as the demonic ravens dived in, forced to wait for his death to come.

"_Out of the night that covers me, black as the bit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul."_

Jarvan collapsed to the ground, the wall of ravens striking and shrieking at an invisible barrier that had formed around Jarvan. He stumbled backwards as hollow, faded images of 10 men faded into view around him. The were spaced equally in a circle around him, their backs out, the squirming and writhing mass of ravens still unable to penetrate the barrier. Jarvan blinked as he struggled to maintain his balance, his knees weak and ice forming in the pit of his stomach. He felt bile in his throat as he wretched onto the floor, only the thin fluid left in his stomach.

"_In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud."_

Jarvan blinked as he stared at the ground, his mind only just beginning to register the men around him.

"Captain." The voice was pained and stretched, weak and empty. Jarvan recognized it though, blinking lamely as he raised his face from the ground.

"...Reynolds?" Jarvan barely recognized the heavy set man, his eyes sunken and empty. Jarvan weakly pulled himself to his knees and then onto his feet as the faded image nodded at him. Jarvan took a step towards the apparition, stretching his hand out before him, but merely passing through the mist. The image of his sergeant faded and blur for a few seconds but faded back into the image. Jarvan stepped away, stumbling backwards as he looked around the circle of apparitions that encircled him. "What... how..."

"_Under the bludgeonings of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed." _

The men spoke in low, somber tones as Jarvan took another step backwards. He tripped over his own feet as the horror gripped at his heartstrings, but as he continued his retreat, the shades followed him. Jarvan felt his eyes began to sting as his mouth hung open, unable to articulate the emotions that swirled like the darkness around them.

"_Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade."_

Their chant came again, slow and mourning, as if it was a warning as much as a threat.

"_And yet the menace of the years, Finds, and shall find, me unafraid." _

"Reynold... how are you..." Jarvan began to say. He looked around him, recognizing each of the 10 faces around him. "Argyle... Vanneth, Halcyon..." The men all nodded at him, their faces hollow and sunken, but not a trace of fear as they stood between the horrors around them and the captain that had let them die. "Marntin, Torn, Jean, Orion..." His men beamed, as he recited their names, meeting each one with a somber stare. "Laryn... Shore." Jarvan's voice caught in his mouth when he came to the last in the group, slowly spinning about, meeting the young man's gaze, Isaacs' son. Shore merely smiled at him, the flesh in his face gaunt and strained, his eyes dark and milky, but it was hard to hide the pride that the man held as he looked at his captain.

"We stand here now to protect you, captain." Reynolds said, his voice gaining some of the man's original huskiness as Jarvan wiped away the tears before the could form. Jarvan collapsed to his knees as he threatened to break into tears, his men still standing around him, forming the impenetrable armor of his heart, even through death.

"But... I led you all to your death..." Jarvan said, choking on the words. Reynolds shook his head slowly.

"It was an honor to serve with you sir, as a loyal subject and as a brother in arms." Reynolds voice soared as the ravens began to recede, pushed away as the invisible bubble grew, more apparitions appearing behind the original ten men.

"I would follow you anywhere captain." Shore said with a proud voice.

"As would I." Jarvan spun, his eyes landing on a face he had not seen in years.

"Fulcan..." The man had died with Jarvan's first capture by Swain.

"Aye, captain. Me as well." Another face from his slaughtered company.

"As would I!" "And I!" "Captain!" "Me as well!" The acknowledgments came loud and fast as more men appeared and reaffirmed their confidence in their captain. The ranks had swelled now as the apparitions expanded around Jarvan and circled him slowly.

"These men trusted you captain," Reynolds said quietly. "And still do."

Jarvan looked upwards and out of the flock of raven to the letter that hung above him, still flickering and burning midair.

"The truest opponent lies within." Jarvan recited aloud.

_I understand now._

Jarvan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his confidence soaring as he held his hand out. His lance appeared , fading out of the darkness, the leather wrapped hilt settling comfortably in Jarvan's grasp.

"_It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll..."_

The chant was building now, the intensity growing as his company, a hundred strong, joined in. Jarvan closed his eyes and took another deep breath, breathing in and then letting it slowly out. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the bright, shimmering eyes that glimmered happily. Long hair framed the delicate features of her heart shaped face, the smile she wore an uncharacteristically soft gesture. Shyvana wore a flowing cloak, spilling gently along her curves, ending in a pool on the floor.

"And here I thought I was only in company of the dead." Jarvan said fondly. He didn't know how, but he knew that Shyvana was alive. He could feel it.

"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." Her voice was soft and fluid, and it poured into Jarvan like liquid courage. Jarvan could feel the fear draining from his body as the apparition smiled warmly at him.

"Wait for me." He said, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, his hand merely passing through the wisps of mist. He clenched his fist, momentarily saddened that it wasn't the real Shyvana. He hardened his heart though, bolstered by the men around him.

"_I am the master of my fate."_ Jarvan joined in with the chant, his voice lost amid the hundred that surrounded him, his head lifted to the sky. _"I AM THE CAPTAIN OF MY SOUL!" _The barrier exploded outwards with enough force to stagger the towering raven-demon that loomed overhead. As the company of specters charged forth, weapons raised, overwhelming the ravens, Jarvan looked and nodded at the apparition of Shyvana that smiled back reassuringly at him.

"Take this!" Jarvan began as he set off at a slow trot, raising his weapon back and to the side, the apparition following him, sliding back over his shoulder. The apparition followed him, massive wings spreading from her back as she wrapped her arms around his chest, her head laid gently against him.

"My love!" He shouted as he could felt warmth pouring into him, the presence following him even though in his heart he knew that Shyvana was not truly in this realm. He held her close to his heart, as his trot turned into a run. He could feel the power growing inside of him as he gained speed.

"My hate!" He pictured all the malice he held towards his enemies, his country and even those around him and formed it into a weapon with which he could wield. He felt his lance begin to grow hot in his hand as he began to run, lowering his stance, the bladed tip of his lance running along the ground, sending sparks flying. He took a giant step forward at the beast drew up and away, the great wings flapping behind it uselessly. The beast began to topple over backwards as tendrils of blackness shot up from the ground, trying to block his path and knock him from the air. The beast roared in anguish as Jarvan kicked off one of its squabbling feet, using his momentum to drive himself higher above the beast. Jarvan brought the lance up in a slicing blow that cleaved one of the beast's wings clean off as it tried to knock Jarvan away. Black blood ran off his Lightshield as it exploded outwards around him, the fury of his ancestors protecting him, engulfing Jarvan in bright light as he brought the lance up, high above his head, both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt.

"...AND ALL OF MY SORROW!" Jarvan cried as he brought the lance down hard, right over the beast's heart.

A shock wave emanated as black blood exploded outwards, the sickly sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone resonating as the beast hit the ground with a thunderous crash. There was a deep gurgling sound as Jarvan crashed down on top of the blade, driving it deeper into his quarry. As jarvan panted, rays of light burst through the bubbling black blood. The beast writhed in agony and let out a horrific screech as it's head contorted and twisted about at an odd angle. Light exploded outwards as a secondary explosion erupted from within the beast.

The blow was deafening as it lofted Jarvan high into the air as the demon bird seemed to implode around the deep gash the Jarvan had inflicted. The beast scratched at the floor and air desperately and shrieks of pain and desperation burst forth from the dying animal. The beast twisted down to a ball of swirling and writhing blood and darkness. It suddenly compressed to a miniscule size and then exploded out with such force in a massive shock wave that it sent Jarvan flipping backwards, tossed through the air like a rag doll. The pressure wave and sound gave Jarvan a blinding headache as he crashed to the ground, landing heavily on his stomach, sliding a distance further.

Winded and dazed, Jarvan's vision swam. Darkness crept at the edges as Jarvan lay there with a bad concussion. Blood dripped down from his nose, and from both ears. He struggled to roll himself over, but his arms felt as if they were made of lead. He groaned, but there was no one to hear him.

"_Very good... I did not think you would make it."_ The voice from before, the one that had lead him into this chamber, rung in his head. Jarvan grunted, finally managing to push himself over onto his back. He rolled over, finally looking into the air, finding the blinding white light of a pure white ocean once again greeting him. _"It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but this judgment... it shall serve its purpose."_

The being said, fading into Jarvan's view for the first time. He blinked, almost unsure if his eyes were betraying him as the angelic being appeared from the mist. With long blonde hair that cascaded down around her face and magnificent white wings spread around her, the being smiled at him. Her gaze was soft and a halo of fire burned above her head. She wore gold armor trimmed with crimson in a pattern that Jarvan did not recognize.

"_Everything is now in its place, as they should be."_ She said, nodding at Jarvan gracefully. Even though Jarvan's head rung and he could barely feel a bone in his body, her voice rung in his head despite her mouth not moving. "_When you are finished with your quest, seek out the League of Legends, young prince, we will have a place for you there."_

Jarvan opened his mouth to reply but he couldn't get his body to budge. It was as if it had stopped working entirely.

"_Worry not, you're not long to remain in this realm."_ She said, answering the unspoken question. _"In return for your... resurrection, the League humbly request to join our ranks. It will be of great interest to you." _

Jarvan tried to frown and reply that he wasn't interested, but again he couldn't do anything. He felt his body growing lighter and lighter as the weight seemed to be lifted. But where there had once been no feeling, numbness followed as his body faded away, turning to dust that was blown away by a wind that cause the mist to swirl around him. Jarvan found himself growing tired, his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep.

"_I'll await word of your arrival in Runeterra, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV."_ She said with a smile. _"I expect big things to come from you soon."_

The angelic being faded away as Jarvan's eyes fluttered shut, sleep overwhelming him.


	15. Chapter 15: Beast

Shyvana awoke to the sound of chirping birds and rays of sunlight cutting through dusty windows. She sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes, looking around. The room was simple and sparse, but fairly clean, only the dust to show it hadn't been used in some time. Shyvana raised her arms above her head, yawning and bearing long fangs as she looked about. There were several windows that sunlight shone through, but all Shyvana could see were orange and crimson leaves from where she sat. She pulled herself out of the bed groggily and looked around. There was a small chest at the foot of the bed, a change of clothes laid out for her.

Shyvana pulled the rough spun tunic she was wearing over her head and dressed quickly. There was a curious pair of thin cotton pants, the likes of which she had never seen before. She looked at them quizzically for a few seconds, before sliding them on first. There was a hugely long tunic folded neatly as well, and she carefully pulled the garment over her head. It stretched to the floor around her ankles. Shyvana tried walking in the weird clothes, but she tread on the leading edge of the garment and tripped, ending up on her face. The door swung open as the woman from before rushed in, a surprised look on her face.

Shyvana struggled to get to her feet again, but stepped on the long tail of the garment and tumbled to the floor a second time. She hissed at the garment, wearing a pitiful frown as she struggled to her feet finally.

"Goodness child, you nearly gave me a heart attack." The lady said, her hand pressed to her chest, her breaths deep. "Ferron, she's awake!"

Shyvana eyed the woman cautiously, her eyes narrowed as the woman stepped aside to tell the tall man into the room. He wore simple clothes, most of them looked to be hand-spun, the clothes of peasant farmers.

"It's good to see you finally up." He said, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face that caught Shyvana by surprise. He stopped as Shyvana shuffled backwards, sinking towards the ground in a defensive stance. He slowed up, scratching his head bewildered momentarily before the grin returned to his face, though much more sheepishly. "I suppose I would be cautious if I were you, too."

"Who are you..." Shyvana asked quietly. Her voice still hurt, and Shyvana realized she was extremely thirsty for the first time.

"My name is Ferron." He said, "And this is my wife, Mara." He said as he gestured to the woman who smiled warmly at Shyvana. Shyvana opened her mouth to speak again, but she choked and began to cough. Ferron cautiously walked over to a side table where a pitcher and basin sat. He pulled a cup from off a nail hung in the wall and filled it with water from the pitcher. He took a step towards Shyvana, kneeling. He extended the cup out towards her, gesturing to it with his free hand. "Here. And your name?"

Shyvana took the cup from her and began to tip it back, but choked and spilled water on the wooden floor boards.

"Carefully, carefully." The woman said, shaking her head as she swept forward. "Small sips." Shyvana didn't shrink back this time, letting the woman approach her. She held the cup steady as shyvana sipped at the water carefully.

"There you go." The man said, pushing himself up to his feet, smiling again. "You had us worried there... we didn't think you were going to make it." He nodded sagely at his own comments. "You had a bad fever for several days there."

"Shyvana." She said softly, over the brim of her cup. She paused as she looked up at the man and woman. "How many days has it been?" Shyvana asked, blinking from behind the cup, pausing just long enough to breath and ask her question.

"Three days since we found you, young one, Shyvana." Mara said, brushing the hair from Shyvana's face.

"Where's..." Shyvana began to say, lowering the cup to her lap. "He's dead isn't he." Ferron and Mara exchanged glances, worry visible in their expressions. Shyvana's eyes fell to her cup, a small smile on her lips. "I knew it... I just... I didn't want to admit it." With her hair hiding her face, her small frame began to shake with convulsions as tears dripped down her nose, making a 'plink' sound as they fell into the cup.

"I'm sorry." Ferron said, pulling the hat from his head and holding it in his hand in front of him. He made a pained expression, sighing. "There was nothing we could have done to save him."

"Thank you..." Shyvana said with a small voice. "He would have been sad to see me like that."

"Who was he?" Mara asked softly. "Was he close to you?"

Shyvana nodded silently.

There was silence for several seconds.

"There isn't anything that can be done." Shyvana said, struggling to get to her feet again. She caught her foot on the hem of the garment again and toppled over.

"Oh my." Mara gasped, trying not to chuckle at the poor girl's attempts to stand. "Are you okay, dear?"

"This infernal tunic is too long." Shyvana pouted, breathing deeply, trying to keep her anger in check.

"It's not a tunic, it's a dress." Ferron said with a grin. "An old one of Mara's, but it seems to fit you just fine."

"Whatever it is, I don't like it." Shyvana huffed, letting the couple draw her attention away from the pain she felt. "I can't walk in it."

"I'll fetch you some of Argo's old things, then." Mara said, getting to her feet. She helped Shyvana to her feet, setting her down on the bed carefully. "They'll be just a bit big on you, but they'll fit. I'll be right back." Mara swept from the room, a ribbon binding her hair behind her back.

"I haven't seen Mara this enthusiastic in weeks." Ferron said, putting his cap back upon his head. "I don't think she's had any good company since." He wore a lopsided grin that complimented his hook nose, the odd combination of features almost comical. He looked happy, a smile on his face as he watched the

"Why are you helping me?" Shyvana asked.

"Huh?" Ferron said, blinking, moving away from the window. "Why wouldn't we?"

"I have no money... I can't pay you." Shyvana said, squirming where she sat. She was afraid that she would be cast out, discarded because she was a freak. The few humans that Shyvana had met before were hardly polite, or even as civilized as she was, raised by her father. Even her father's kind, the dragons, saw her as a freak, an outcast and a lowly scion of human and dragon. To them, she was worse than the humans, though her father was hunted down and killed for his supposed betrayal to his kind. Kampf had been the harbinger of that message, and he had been the executioner as well. Shyvana clenched her fist, white knuckles gleaming atop her pale hand. She felt her blood run hot at the thought of Kampf, but put her desire to kill him aside. She had a more immediately concern; Jarvan's killers.

"Silly girl, we would never harm you." Ferron said, rustling her hair. She blushed, remembering how Jarvan had done that to her once before. "We may not have money to spare, but we're not above helping someone in need." Shyvana frowned.

"I don't understand." Shyvana said, wrinkling her nose. "You owe me nothing, and I don't think I can repay you. Why help me then?" Ferron paused, and sighed, sitting down next to Shyvana.

"Shyvana, my girl, there are certain things that all human beings are capable of." He said philosophically. "Kindness is only chief among those. If you saw someone in trouble along the side of the road, would you stop and help him?" Shyvana paused, looking at him for a few moments while she thought.

"I... I don't know." She said, looking shamefully to the ground.

"Well I suppose with all you've been through, I'm not too surprised." Ferron said, sighing heavily. "But many folks would. Simple folk like us, we're just farmers. We don't have much to show from it, but we farmers have a saying. 'Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself...' or something like that." Ferron paused, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. "There are a lot of folks out there with even less to show that us, and while it may be selfish of me, I just want to help people. I can't do much of that as a farmer, but I try and help out when I can."

Ferron smiled fondly as he stared off into the distance, as if he was reminiscing something that had happened long ago. Shyvana watched him for a short while, thinking about her past encounters with humans. Ferron was unlike any human she had ever met before, and it made her feel strange inside.

"Here we go!" Mara said, smiling as she swept into the room, startling Shyvana who had been lost deep in thought. "Try these on." She set a pair of trousers and a heavy shirt down next to Shyvana. Shyvana picked the tunic up and tilted her head to the side, looking at it with interest.

"Ferron, go check supper please, we won't be long." The man nodded and stood up, his old bones creaking as he did. He groaned as he got to his feet, but moved off, a bit of a spring in his step. He paused at the door and turned, winking at Shyvana.

"If ya have any more questions, feel free to ask." Ferron said with a grin. He bounced off down the stairs as Mara shook his head after him.

"Did he give you the 'I just want to help people' speech?" Mara said, crossing her arms over her chest. Shyvana nodded, smiling weakly.

"Old coot." Mara said affectionately, shaking her head. "He always wanted to be a knight, but his parents couldn't afford to send him away from the farm. He acts like it's his duty to protect others, and he makes bloody sure they know it." She laughed, turning back to Shyvana.

"Let's get you out of that dress." She said, gesturing for Shyvana to raise her arms above her head. Mara pulled the dress over her head as Shyvana shook the dress off. Shyvana covered her chest with her arms as Mara folded the dress, and set it on the bed. "I wanted to ask you where your scars came from..."

"It was from..." Shyvana didn't want to tell her the truth out of fear that Mara would be frightened, but she didn't want to lie about it either. "A wild beast had attacked us earlier in our journey." The memories of Jarvan caused Shyvana to drop her head to the floor again.

"I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to bring it up again." Mara said, handing her the tunic. Shyvana pulled it over her head and then slid into the trousers. Shyvana brushed her hair out of her face as she did, pulling it through the collar of the shirt."How about I take care of that for you as well?"

"My hair?" Shyvana said, pulling it over her shoulder and running a hand along it. "What are you going to do to it?"

"I'm just going to put a braid in it so you don't have to keep brushing it from your face, dear." Mara said, sitting Shyvana down on the bed and then sitting down next to her. "Here, face this way and we'll get started."

* * *

Dinner had passed in mostly silence and the clink of silverware on plates. Shyvana had kept her eyes on her plate for the most part, scarfing her food down rapidly. After the meal, the family had spread out among the small farm, the son feeding the small flock of animals, while Mara cleared the table. Ferron had gestured for Shyvana to follow him, and they both left the farmhouse, circling around the house and down a short path that led into the woods.

"What's this way?" Shyvana asked as Ferron handed her a small bouquet of flowers. Ferron was silent, merely treading onwards down the path before he emerged into a small clearing. It was there that freshly turned earth and a small wooden cross signaled that the clearing was now a grave site.

"It wasn't much, but I gave him a nice pine box and said a few words." Ferron said quietly. "If you want to say a few words of your own, or just stay a while, you're more than welcome to do it." Ferron held his cap in his hands before him, praying silently.

"If it's not too much trouble..." Shyvana began quietly, "I'd like some time alone."

"Certainly, young one." Ferron said softly, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. "Just promise to come back to the house when you're finished."

"I will." Shyvana said nodding. Her knees were weak as she sunk to the ground, her arms limp at her side. "Thank you..." She mouthed as Ferron left, glancing over his shoulder. He shook his head as he did, feeling sorry for the poor girl.

As soon as he was gone, Shyvana felt tears begin to well in her eyes. She fell forward onto all fours, the reddish dirt fresh beneath her fingers as she clenched her fists, scooping up handfuls of the dirt. She screwed up her face and gritted her teeth as tears poured down her face. She raised he fists up and brought them down onto the ground, hard, as she tried t5o stifle to sobs. Her shoulders shook as she did, small imprints on the ground where her fists struck the dirt over and over.

"You jerk!" She hissed between sobs, "You left me behind!" She choked on her tears, sitting back on her knees, looking skywards as dirt tumbled out of her open hands, over her lap. "You utter bastard!" She felt tears streaming down her cheeks and she cried, letting it all out. "You were supposed to take me with you! You said I could! Was it all a lie?" She felt anger, fear, loneliness, sadness, and frustration, all of the emotions swirling and mixing in her heart and she both sobbed for his loss and cursed his existence. He had saved her and then abandoned her again, nearly as quickly.

"Jarvan..."

She wanted to hate him, but deep down, she loved him. He had given her seemingly life purpose, something to live for, something to strive for. But all that was gone now, as the longing turned to anger. She didn't want to hate him, but she couldn't understand her emotions. It was both devastating and mind numbing as her tears dried, the heat from her anger brewing, causing her entire body temperature to rise. She rose to her feet slowly, her mind set on one thing.

"So long as there is life in my body, I will hunt that witch and her bastard servant down." She vowed as the sun set, her mind returning to the night of Jarvan's death. Her sadness was gone, instantly, replaced with anger and determination. Her fists quivered, flames erupting around them as she closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. The flames crackled for a few moments, fizzling out as she breathed deeply.

"I need to leave soon, I don't want trouble for these people." She said quietly to herself, stepping away from the grave. She paused, looking back, turning her body slightly as she did. "Worry not, I won't be long behind you." She sighed heavily, fury boiling in her veins, an uncontrollable wrath of emotion frothing just beneath the placid appearance she wore.

As she walked back towards the farm, the scent of smoke filled her lungs. She paused, lifting her nose further into the air, a sense of dread settling like ice in her stomach.

"No..." She breathed, taking off at a sprint. As she rounded the corner, the red leave finally parting to reveal the farm, her fears were confirmed. A pillar of black smoke reached towards the sky, rolling flames engulfing the house. Shyvana skidded to a halt, the sight of the house burning sending ice through her veins. She didn't know what to do as she watched the building burn, the sound of tinkling glass and the roar of flames overwhelming her senses. She slowly ran around the house, the devastation she felt, wondering if this was her fault. As she rounded the house, she slowed to a halt, pausing behind a tree, a number of unknown men standing in a circle in front of the house.

There were two leaders that Shyvana could see, one taller and wider, with broad shoulders, the other only slightly shorter, his build equally muscle bound, but less impending than the first. The taller of the two wore Heavy plate armor, an executioners broad ax held in front of his as he leaned on it, a neutral expression on his face. He watched the fire roar, the orange light flickering off his face, a sinister light cast upon him.

"OH YEAH!" The smaller one shouted, a wild grin on his face. He watched the pillar of flame grow taller as it burned, his gaze drawn higher and higher, his smile only growing wider as it did. "That's the way I like it!"

"I'll ask you again." The broad one said, a stern look on his face as he raised the ax and pointed to where Ferron was being detained on his knees by several crimson armor clad men. "Where is the dragon?"

"I don't know anything about no damned dragon!" Ferron shouted as he struggled against the men's grasp.

"We know you're hiding her." The thin one said, kneeling to get down to Ferron's level and meet him eye to eye. "Just tell us where she is and we'll be on our way."

"Never!" Ferron hissed, moving his face away from the sinister looking blade that the thin one had produced. There were two blades that ran parallel from the hilt, ending in a hooked tip. The thin one, turned his back, a cruel smile on his face as he spun the blade about, mere inches from the mans face, a maniacal laugh erupting as Ferron tried to back away. He was held fast by the men though, his cowering only serving to enliven the men who stood around laughing, the thin one smiling wildly at the approval and jeering of the men.

"Enough." The broad one said, frowning. "If you won't give us the information voluntarily, then we'll just have to coerce it from you." He swung his massive ax up onto his shoulder and turned away. "You two, take the woman and the boy to the barn, lock them in." He pointed to the old wooden structure, and the men who stood around Mara and Argo nodded. The boy had been beaten badly, his face black and blood running from his nose and a bad gash on his cheek. Mara had been caring for him, cooing softly as she did.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Ferron said, the aghast expression on his face showed his fear, the shock evident at the consequences his stubborn nature had resulted in.

"Wait...stop, he's injured!" Mara said, her fear evident in her voice. She laid down over her sons body protectively. "No!" She screamed as the men ripped her off, carrying her, kicking and screaming, towards the farm. Two men hefted Argo by the hands and feet, and tossed him unceremoniously into the barn, grins on their faces as they did.

"The woman too." The thin one said, his wild grin now pure evil in the flickering orange light of the burning house. The men shoved her in, sending her stumbling to the ground. They slammed and locked the door, barring it with a heavy timber, smiles on their faces.

"Burn it to the ground!" The thin one cheered, as one of their men stepped forward, bringing his arm back to toss a torch in through the open hay loft.

"Wait!" Shyvana shouted, stepping from behind the tree, her fists clenched as she did. "Don't hurt them! I'm the one you want!" The surprise on the two men's faces was evident as she stepped into the fire light. There was an awkward silence that followed, only the sound of the roof collapsing in the burning farm house to break the dead silence.

"Shyvana?" Ferron said, surprised. "Wait, do you know what the men are looking for?" The thin one struck Ferron aside the head with the side of his blade, twirling it and then setting it on his shoulder, stepping towards her. Shyvana was afraid, but held her ground, her hands held firmly at her side.

"A tasty little thing like you?" The thin one finally said, a dumb look on his face. Shyvana grimaced as he scratched his head, letting the blade rest on his shoulder. "Talon said a dragon, not a girl." Shyvana felt ice run through her veins, the thought of the assassin's hand in Jarvan's death leaving an icy fist around her heart. He circled Shyvana, his spiked hair swirling around her like shark and his prey, looking her up and down, paying special attention to to her chest and rear end, a frown still on his face. Shyvana could see the tattoos that ran up and down his arms, one reaching up along his neck, onto his face. They were crimson red, the color of the uniforms that the other men wore.

"Take her, men." The broad one said. "Detain her."

"Oh come on, brother." The thin one said, shrugging again. "She's hardly a dragon. She's just a sexy little red-haired farm girl." He shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he laid a hand on Shyvana's rear. He grinned as she did, smiling slovenly. "I'll show you a good time, babe, don't worry." He whispered before turning back towards the broad one, his brother. "Darius, I'll take care of this one, you just keep investigating the man about a dragon."

"Check again, Draven." Darius sighed, pointing past him.

"What?" Draven said, frowning as he turned. He shrunk back when he turned back to Shyvana. "Eep." Horns protruded from her skull, and her eyes were vertical slits, the magenta color burning like stars in the orange light. Fire encompassed her entire body, a raging inferno now exploding around her. She reached out and picked Draven up by the collar, lifting him above her head and then smashed him, face first, directly into the ground.

"Only one man can do that to me, and it's not you!" She roared as she picked him up again, a stunned look on his now bruised and battered face. She raised her arm back and smashed his face in, sending him flying through the air, smoke trailing after him.

Shyvana's entire body heaved as she breathed deeply, looking around. Everyone wore stunned expressions, many still with their weapons in their sheathes. Shyvana roared at them, the sound a deadly screech, many men turning tail and running at the sight and sound of the angry dragoness. The man who had been ready to light the barn on fire had dropped the torch in his hurry to hightail it out of there, the flaming stick rolling toward the barn. Flames jumped up the side of the building as it did, quickly engulfing the thatch roof in a cloak of flames.

"That's cute, but what exactly do you think you can do to me?" The man who had been referred to as 'Darius' said with a grin. He brought his ax to a ready stance in front of him, spreading his feet out and leaning down. "You may have taken care of my cocky younger brother, but I won't be so easy." Shyvana's eye twitched as she tried to figure out who exactly was cockier. She shook her head, and was taken by surprise as the man charged abruptly.

He swung his ax in a broad horizontal spin that would have taken her head off, but she ducked below it, only losing a few hairs off the end of her braid. Darius looked surprised, as if no one had ever thought to duck the swing, and slowed his spin as he prepared a second strike, his hand sliding up the shaft of the ax to swing inside his wide arc. Shyvana spun and planted a flame cloaked fist squarely under her jaw as his body came to bare, and then spun, landing a kick in his gut, sending him tumbling backwards. He rolled as he hit the ground, landing uneasily on all fours, gasping for breath, clutching his stomach as his eyes bulged.

"Wha... th... hell..." He gasped. He looked up and Shyvana slowly approached. He started to get to his feet, but Shyvana raised her leg back and landed a kick on the side of his head that snapped his head to the side and knocked him out. He crumpled to the ground in an unceremonious pile. Shyvana turned back to the barn as pounding sounded, the screams of a terrified Mara emanating from within.

Shyvana ran to the door, and pressed her ear against it.

"Help!" Mara shouted from inside. "Ferron help me!" Shyvana tugged on the timber, but the men had jammed it in well. She lowered her shoulder underneath the timber and pressed upwards on the timber, but it was too low to the ground and she couldn't gain purchase in the mud. She stepped back, her eyes glowing bright as she called upon her draconian power.

"Mara!" Shyvana shouted. "Step away from the door!" She heard the voice echo from her mouth, but it wasn't hers. It was a scary sound, deeper and threatening.

"What?" Mara said from inside, her voice muffled. Shyvana could hear her in a fit of coughing. He raised her foot to her chest and kicked the door in, the blow cloaked in flames, the timber splintering and caving to the force. It showered splinters inside the room, and the doors were knocked clean off their hinges. Shyvana helped Mara out of the burning building, the woman coughing hard. She was gasping for air by the time that Shyvana had carried her to where Ferron sat stunned, his eyes wide in terror as Shyvana set Mara down next to him. "Quick..." Mara gasped between coughs. "Argo. He's still in there."

Shyvana nodded and took off, running back to the barn, diving into the smoke and flames. Shyvana had to shield her eyes as the building burned, the smoke stinging her eyes. She could feel flames licking at her body, but they didn't cause her harm. A beam crashed to the ground beside her, sending her diving to the floor. She carefully picked herself up, coughing as she did, still looking for Argo. Shyvana felt around on the ground, trying to find him, but her hand hit something else familiar, the warm steel sharp to the touch. She grasped the familiar blade, pulling Jarvan's lance to her side. She paused, but the sound of another crashing timber caused her to realize she was fighting against the clock.

Shyvana found Argo pinned under a smoldering timber, the heavy beam laid across his chest. Shyvana grabbed the timber and heaved, lifting it up off the boy, the timber crashing down through the old floor boards as she tossed it aside. Shyvana pulled the boy up and tossed him over her shoulder, the weight felt in her knees as she grab the lance and turned around. She walked slowly out of the building, using the lance to guide her, the smoke too think to see through now. Her eyes and throat burned as she moved out of the building, falling to her knees, dropping Argo and the lance and clawing at her throat as she did. She may have been able to breath fire, but the smoke she had inhaled was painful even to her.

"Argo!" Mara cried a she crawled to her son, pulling him close.

"Is he okay?" Ferron asked, walking painfully over. He clutched at his rib cage, where he had been struck several times by the men.

"I don't know..." Mara said tearfully, her voice raspy. "He isn't breathing." She covered her mouth as tears ran down her soot stained face.

"I... I..." Ferron fell to his knees next to Mara as she cried into her hands. "How did this all happen..."

Shyvana stood slowly, looking to the sky again, the moon blotted out pillar of smoke. She set the butt of the lance down in the dirt, looking at the weapon. It was blackened in places by the flames, the steel still hot to the touch. She sighed, realizing that she had brought this upon this innocent family that had only tried to help her. Her gaze finally dropped from the sky, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She had brought so much trouble with her.

"No one should have to suffer because of me." Shyvana said quietly. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, frowning as she walked towards where the thin one still lay. She stripped him of his armor and weapons, tossing the blades into the burning barn, and then strapping the armor to her thin frame. It hung loose on her body, but it would have to do. She strapped the gauntlets to her for arms, the fur lined armor hot, but fairly comfortable. She took his boots as well, the armored grieves up to her knees. "Tacky but it will have to do." She sighed.

"Just leave." Ferron said, anger in his eyes and voice. "Please, just leave us." Shyvana tried to meet his gaze, but Ferron refused to meet her gaze, hardly acknowledging her.

"I'm sorry for all of this." Shyvana said sadly, as she walked over to where the broader of the two brothers lay. Blood still poured from his nose. Shyvana removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, kicking the man in the ribs once, grimacing as she looked back at the man and woman who now grieved over the body of their dead son, their entire life burning around them. Shyvana shook her head, tossing the great ax to the ground at Ferron's feet.

"Do what you want with them." She said, turning and stepping off, headed out towards the road.

"Wait." He called, struggling with the weapon. "Where will you go?" Shyvana turned, Ferron still refusing to meet her gaze. She looked up to the sky.

"I have a debt to be paid." She said with a grimace. "And I intend to fulfill it." She slung Jarvan's lance over her shoulder, the massive weapon easily half again as tall as she was. Ferron watched silently, his wife sobbing quietly beside him, his son dead at his feet, and two Noxians unconscious on his burning farm as the horned girl disappeared into the darkness. He set a hand on his wife's shoulder, his mind swirling with unanswered questions.

Shyvana paused when she reached the road, looking back over her shoulder. She felt bad for leaving the older couple like that, but she had already brought too much pain into their lives. She shook the tears from her eyes, refusing to let herself cry. He had seen the fear in both Ferron and Mara when they looked upon her, seeing her as what she was, not what she had appeared as, a young woman.

At heart she was a dragon, a beast... a freak in their eyes.

In the eyes of the world, she was more than a freak.

_This freak will take the world down then. _

She looked up to where the moon shone brightly in the sky, the red and orange leaves accented by the light form the burning house. A black pillar of smoke arced up into the sky.

_Bring it on._


	16. Chapter 16: Revival

Shyvana had followed the road for as far as it had wound through the mountains. She had wound upwards for what seemed like days, winding further up through the rock strewn mountains before it had finally leveled out at the pass. She had crested the mountains and had nearly been blinded by the light of the sun rising over the distant mountains across the valley.

Shyvana paused, using her free hand to shield the rays of sunshine, the crisp, early morning air biting at her nose and ears. She breath clouded before her, as she paused at the very crest of the mountain, looking down into the valley. She frowned, the valley was an array of beautiful shades of orange yellow and red, the autumn leaves gorgeous, the first frosts yet to arrive. Icy gray rivers cut through the landscape like ribbons lain lazily across the ground, the largest of which cleaved the city in half. She frowned as she stepped off the crest, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She paused again, her free hand raising to her neck. She shivered, looking down to her boots. She raised her foot up, kicking the paving stones underneath her foot with her toe tentatively.

"This place is not friendly to the likes of me..." She said, shaking her head. She pulled her hood back up and stepped down the crest, following the path down away from the frigid pass. The steps had been carved directly from the mountain long ago and now they were worn from use, buried and completely worn away in many places.

"I don't think I'm going to recognize any city I ever visit..." She said, sighing crossly. "An outcast..."

Shyvana reveled in the downwards incline, her aching feet begging her to slow her pace, but her anger and determination driving her on further. The dirt and cut stone path turned into cobblestones as it wound down ahead of her, stretching forwards into the valley, towards the great black walls of the city. She slowed as the path turned away, back down the mountain, several totems rising up out of the ground just over the next hill. She stopped at the base of the steps as she had rounded the hill, a small plateau spreading out, the three dark totems and a broken stone wall between her and the city. She pulled her hood down around her face as a worn down cart, dragged by an even more worn down mule team trundled up the cart path, struggling up the side of the mountain. The path wound back and forth along the side of the mountain below the plateau, and the cart was just dragging onto the plateau as she reached it.

Shyvana paid the cart no heed, simply pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, wrapping the scarf around her face and then adjusting the cloth wrapped lance across her shoulders. She stepped up to the totems, laying the lance down as she rubbed her shoulder, glancing over the totems. There were three that stood fast, and though worn and faded, Shyvana could see that they had been carved from wood and had once been a beautiful ward to the city that sat below them in the valley. They stood sentinel to the path, as if warding away any evil that sought to gain entrance to the city... or they had at one time. She stepped past them, approaching the cliff that overlooked the city set deep in the valley.

Shyvana shivered, the demonic presence before her unlike anything she had ever seen before. She had heard stories of the human cities from her father, but she had never imagined that they would look like this. It was frightening... but also exhilarating. The fear that the city exuded caused adrenaline to rush through her body as she watched the city toil slowly about it's morning, the new sights, smells and danger it posed all exciting to Shyvana.

Shyvana steeled her nerves as she stepped away from the cliff that stretched out towards the sky and slowly approached the totems. When she had first approached them, they had seemed like elegant guardians to the city, but now that she grew closer, she realized they were warnings, not greetings.

The totems looked as if they tried to warn travelers to turn away, tall black pillars of smoke staining the sky, stretching up into the air from the murky depths of the city. Factories, buildings, and spires rose to the sky from various parts of the city, bastions from the filth that clung around them below. The rest of the city just blurred into a single mass of grey, black and muddy brown, pulsing and vibrating with life and death. It was not so much a city as it was a single great pulsating demon, waiting to rise up and snap at anything that dare poke it.

Shyvana was lost as she set a hand on the totem, closing her eyes and imagining the atrocities that the totems had seen. She heard the crunch of boots on stone, her body tensing, as if it knew what was coming.

"Looking for trouble?"

The voice was deep and guttural, as if the owner spent too much time screaming. Shyvana let out a short tempered breath as a pair of brutes stepped down from the tail of the wagon, not stopped on the level ground. One of them was tall and bulked up, his arms a thick as tree trunks. He had a sloped brow and one eye was slightly larger than the other. Shyvana expected she would have laughed if she hadn't seen the sword he drew from the sheath on the back of his belt. The weapon was heavy and had a flat back and a square head, more of a machete than a sword. He hefted the heavy steal blade, letting it sit on his shoulder in a cheesy, almost narcissistic stance. His partner was almost his exact opposite though, short and squat, built like a boulder. He had small, dark, beady eyes set deep in his face, his nose squashed, down and to the side, a scar running from the corner of his nose down to his chin. He wore a lopsided grin that displayed teeth that were a rotten brown and his hair was a greasy black mop that sat on the top of his head like a bad toupee.

Shyvana looked over her shoulder, turning slightly as she did. The cart and its mule had ground to a halt, the shrunken and wrinkled old man who was driving it clambering down from his perch to stretch his legs.

"Now boys, lets not give the poor lady a hard time." The old man squeaked, his small voice cracked and scratchy. He planted his fists on his hips and stood defiantly staring at the boys, but the larger one merely cracked his neck and put on a lopsided grin to mirror his lumpy brother. Shyvana could see the resemblance.

"Aw pop, come on, we just want to have a little fun." The short, fat one said with a greedy grin, as a tongue ran out and over his lips. Shyvana felt her stomach turn, but she merely clenched her fists, her pale skin a ghostly white over her knuckles. She could feel her teeth grinding in her mouth unconsciously as her anger threatened to boil over.

"Besides, with good like those, she's not just a simple farm girl." The taller one said, looking at Shyvana's long, pale legs. Shyvana bent over and picked up the lance, letting the heavy weapon rest on her shoulder.

"Boys..." The old man said, sighing painfully. He didn't seem to really care about Shyvana so much as he didn't want to deal with the trouble it would bring if the authorities got involved.

Shyvana turned fully to face them, tossing her cloak back over her free shoulder to reveal what armor she had below. She still wore her gauntlets and the base of her chest plate, the pauldrons and the armor around her waist. He growled, her feet planted firmly shoulder width apart and her arm held away from her body, the other wrapped protectively around the barrel of the lance. She flexed her fingers as she took a slow step forward, her thin waist slung with the heavy armor. She growled again, this time louder as she eyes gleamed behind her hood, her long fangs bared behind the scarf she had wrapped around her face.

"Going to start stripping for us?" The short one said with a sloven grin. Shyvana could feel her anger rising with every step closer they came. She could tell it wasn't so much at them, but anger at the death of the man who had saved her from herself and shown her compassion, at the hands of the red-haired witch and her blade toting man. It was still fresh in her mind, festering like an open wound. It was only making her angrier and angrier as she thought about it, her temper rising. She could remember his body growing cold in her hands, the anger she had felt at the helplessness she felt while she mourned his death. She now had two beasts to kill, the Dragon who had slain her father, and the witch who had slain her love. She had no leads on either of them, Kampf's trail going cold without the small Demacian tracker to help her. The only clue she had to go off of was the name of the blade bearing assassin, _Talon._

Shyvana felt her eyes flare and she felt the skin on her face begin to turn to scales as horns burst painfully from her head. They pierced through her hood, curving back and up, away from her head. She cracked her neck as the two stepped backwards awkwardly, their eyes growing wide as dinner plates, horror spreading on their faces. She pulled the scarf down from her face and gave the two men a devious grin, bearing pearly white fangs.

Shyvana took a step forward, bringing her knee up to her chest and then crashing it down to the ground, cracking a paving slab in two as she leaned forward, bearing her teeth and letting out an earth shattering roar. The tone was deep and guttural, but it also carried the pained shriek of a wounded female, her honor at losing her mate ringing in her voice. She returned to her defensive stance as the two men fell backwards, the lumpy one struggling on his back like a turtle, the other sitting on his tail, a stunned look on his face.

"Wha...what... in the name of the guardians..." The two men looked on with a mix of terror and awe as Shyvana stepped closer. She hoisted the short, lumpy one high into the air, her hand around his throat, his stumpy legs waggling free in the air. Shyvana's eyes burned with anger as she glared at him, his face turning blue, his beady eyes bulging out of his head as he tried to struggle against her vice like grip.

"P...Put him down!" The taller one said, struggling to his feet. He still held his machete, but it was at his side, not held ready between him and the dragoness. Shyvana ignored him, instead jerking the lumpy one to get his attention.

"Tell me, where is the one known as 'Talon'." Shyvana growled. She paused, her teeth bared, the horns that crested her head looking menacing with the dark cloak she wore. The lumpy one gurgled helplessly, his face now a deep purple.

"Worthless." Shyvana said, tossing him away, lofting him a surprising distance, his brother's eyes growing even larger. He brought the machete up and held it with a shaky two handed grasp.

"You don't have a clue, human." Shyvana said with a sigh of disgust.

"Don't you look down at me, you beast!" He said, his voice betraying his fear. He raised his blade up as he charged blindly forward, bringing the machete down as if he was chopping wood. Shyvana swept her cloak out away from her body as she brought up her gauntlets in a cross before her, catching the angled swing in the 'V' that she had formed with the armored gauntlets, the heavy lance swinging about wildly. She sunk at the knees only slightly as the blade struck down. She twisted down and around ripping the blade from his hand and knocking him into the dirt with the length of the lance. Shyvana flipped the blade around and brought it up holding the blade flush with the side of his face using her free hand. He was frozen in his tracks, only his knees shaking.

"Do you know the one named 'Talon'?" Shyvana asked, her eyes narrowing to slits. She pressed the blade against his cheek turning his face as she inspected his face, sweat gleaming.

"N-n-no..." He said, gulping audibly. Shyvana growled, but let the blade fall to her side.

"What are you?" The old man stood there defiantly, his fist still planted on his hips, a sour look on his face as he inspected the dragoness. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a red-haired witch and her ward, a man by the name 'Talon'." Shyvana said, pulling her cloak back around her, hiding the crest on her chest plate. She pulled the hood back, running a hand along her head as the horns retracted. She grimaced as the sounds crept through her head, clenching her eyes shut against the pain. Transformations were never a pleasant process. She let out a small sigh as she opened her eyes again.

The old man didn't appear afraid or startled, but he also wore an expression that Shyvana read as a mix of worry and disgust. It caused her skin to crawl as the man stood there, judging her.

"I don't know a red-haired witch, but if it'll get you to leave us alone..." The man looked conflicted for a few seconds, but he sighed, taking the straw hat from the top his head and scratching a the thin white hair that had been hidden underneath. "There's a pub on the far side of the city called the Drunken Dagger. The man you seek frequents the bar there."

Shyvana spun on her heal and began her swift descent down the mountain, disappearing before the old man could get a second look at her.

He set his hat back upon his head and sighed, a frown planted squarely on his face.

"Get up, you idots." He spat, kicking the taller one in the foot. His eye twitched as the two boys pulled themselves to their feet. They stood their looking abashed as their father looked on with shame.

"Pop..."

"I don't want to hear it." The old man snapped. "Did she take the ax?" The taller son looked around lamely for a few seconds before nodding.

"Damnit." His father spat. "Now I'll have to buy a new one. Come on, before you two lugheads make any more trouble. Get the wagon." The boys shuffled their feet as they got set at the back of the wagon, ready to help the mule up the spooked mule get up the last leg of the moutain. As the old man prepared to mount his cart, he looked over his shoulder towards the city, where he had just finished a day of peddling his wares.

"Trouble is brewing..." He said ominously, talking to no one in particular. "The dragons have returned to Noxus."

* * *

Jarvan opened his eyes and immediately began to panic when he was yet again greeted by pure darkness. He began to reach out but his knuckles were soon greeted by click of impact on wood. Jarvan ran his hands around his as he he slowly began to realize where he was. He felt icy claws grip around his heart as he realized that he had been buried alive. The sound of shovels in dirt resounded from close by. He pounded on the top of the coffin, yelling as he did.

"HEY!" He roared. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Silence followed for several longs seconds as Jarvan dare not even breath, his mind struggling to process where he was. He clawed at the lid, screaming at the top of his lungs like a child, his base feers overwhelming his mind. He paniced, breathing shallowly, rapidly, his fingertips bloody stumps, his nails broken away. Jarvan sat back, his mind unable to comprehend that he had been brought back, only to die a pitiful death in a wooden box.

He heard muffled shouting as the shovels started digging again, directly over him. Dust and particles of dirt fell through the thin cracks in the ceiling as the sound of shovels grew closer, deeper into the dirt. The sound of the shovel striking the pine boards was like music to his ears, the thought of real sunlight a god sent. The sound of shovels scraping dirt away and the frantic shouts of men could be heard from outside, the muffled through the box. Scraping metal resounded from the sides of the box as dirt was cleared away, followed by more shouting, clearer this time.

The edge of the lid was pried back, glimmers of bright sunlight shining, cutting through the pitch blackness of the sealed box. The smell of autumn leaves and the musty smell of days old rain drifted into the box as Jarvan pushed the lid up with a grunt, hands pulling the lid up and away, casting it aside.

Jarvan had to shield his eyes with his arm, a smile on his face as he sat back, relief swelling in his chest, the sunlight on his skin like the kiss of a beautiful woman. Jarvan took a deep breath, sighing and letting out the breath slowly, his mind still racing, his body suddenly feeling weak.

"Thank you... I thought I was dead..." Jarvan said, looking towards his saviors from beneath his arm. His stomach immediately turned though, the sight of crimson and black uniforms causing bile to rise up in the throat.

"Demacian armor?" One of the men said with astonishment. "How the hell... Out here in the boonies, no less."

"Somebody go get the captain." One of the men said with a grim smile, his shock receeding. "He'll want to see this."

Jarvan sighed, his shoulders drooping as he did. Jarvan dragged his hand acorns his face, his eyes dropping to his lap, wishing he had stayed in the damn box. He looked side to the side, three bodies casually tossed in to a hole unceremoniously nest to him, the cloth the bodies were wrapped in nothing more than bloody rags. The bodies were frail, probably nothing more that farmers, but the thought that they could be his friends caused his stomach to turn again. He was ready to be sick at the thought, but he held back the urge to vomit as he held a fist to his mouth, hunched over, still sitting in the box.

"Who are the bodies?" Jarvan said, beginning to stand.

"Farmers who thought they would try and hide a half-dragon from High Command. Not a smart choice, as you can see." One of the men said, smiling cruelly, looking down at Jarvan, chuckling at the look of horror on Jarvan's face.

"Where is she?" Jarvan snapped, growling at the man. The soldier was taken aback, his evil chuckle turned to a frown as he took a step back. "Tell me!" Jarvan demanded. The soldier seemed to recover, his shock turning into anger. He slammed his shovel into the dirt and leaned forward on it getting close enough that Jarvan could smell the stench of blood on his armor.

"W-we captured her!" He spat, his cruel smile returning. "Not without a taste of our spoils first. She didn't enjoy it at first, but after a while she loosened up and begged like a dog for more." He said, a sick grin on his face, closing his eyes as he laughed.

Jarvan's fists trembled with fury, his mind going blank at the very thought. He rose up, stepping out of the box, and up to the man. He grabbed the man by the neck, his hand like an iron vice on his throat, his face rapidly turning from white to blue to purple. Jarvan raised the man up off his feet, veins nearly bursting out of his arms as he lifted the man up.

"Don't you dare speak about her like that." Jarvan hissed, his voice rumbling with rage. The man clawed at Jarvan's gauntlet, his mouth held shut as Jarvan held him aloft. Jarvan slammed the man down onto the ground, crushing his throat and instantly killing the man as he drove his fist into his face, the hammer blow crushing his head. Jarvan stood up slowly, his face contorted in anger as he stepped over the body, spasms causing his hands and feet to twitch. Jarvan drew the dead man's shovel from from the ground with a bloody hand, turning and swinging the shovel wide as men approached, their weapons drawn. Jarvan took one of them by surprise, the shovel driving deep into his neck, blood spraying everywhere. Jarvan turned as the second man fell, his rage driving him forward.

"What in the hell is going on?" An officer Shouted with a grimace. His voice was deep and rumbled with an accent that Jarvan didn't recognize as the man approached, a number of soldier following in his wake. He carried a massive executioners ax as if it weighed nothing, dismissing men as he stepped forward. His face carried two massive bruises, one on the bottom of his chin, the other covering the entire right side of his face.

"He knows something about the dragon girl we're trying to find." One of the men said, standing well back from Jarvan's reach. They held swords and shovels between themselves and Jarvan, no one willing to get near him.

"Is that so." The man said, grinning. "Your friend gave me the bruises, you see." He said softly, his hand brushing against the bruised skin. "And when I get my hands on her, I'll make sure she gets a scar of her own to remember me by." He said, smiling, raking his thumb across his throat.

"Like hell." Jarvan growled. He paused, knowing he would go down.

"I can guarantee it." The officer said, grinning cockily.

"Bite me!" Jarvan shouted, hurling the shovel at the Noxian captain. The impromptu weapon struck the captain on the on the face, only the side of the handle striking his nose, but it was enough to send him reeling onto his back, collapsing onto the ground, as he clutched his nose, shouting angrily as blood poured profusely to the ground, dribbling over his face.

Jarvan snorted in satisfaction. "Bloody Noxians. Fuc-..."

_CLANG._ Jarvan collapsed, the sound of a shovel striking him on the back of his head ringing out loud.

"Bastard." The soldier said, breathing heavily as he held the shovel in both hands.

"Lock him up." Darius said, getting to his feet with help from his men. He waved them off. "Make sure he can't get free. I wanna know who the hell this tenacious sonofabitch is." He said, spitting blood at the ground just in front of where Jarvan lay face down. "Bastard." He muttered as he nursed his bruised nose.

"And what about this mess?" One of the men still holding his shovel asked.

"Finish burying to bodies, we move immediately." Darius said dismissively, turning away. Several of his men fitted Jarvan with manacles, dragging him away by his arms. "And keep me apprised of any news of his dragon friend. I want her captured." He growled.

"Yes, Captain Darius." The men saluted, stepping off quickly to get things finished and move out. Smoking ruins of a barn and farm house still smoldered in the mid day sun, the hallowed remains of a once quaint farm. Darius grunted in disgust as he walked past it all, back towards the road.

"Trouble, brother?" Draven said, an annoyed look on his face.

"A prisoner." Darius growled, leaning against the fence that Draven sat with his back to, his eyes closed, as if he was napping. "He knows something about the she-dragon." Draven opened an eye, looking to his brother.

"What'd he say?" Draven asked, feigning mock-interest.

"Not much regarding the girl." But he killed one of our men with his bare hands and then nearly beheaded another with a shovel. Draven merely chuckled.

"Who the HELL are these freaks?" He exclaimed, tossing his hands up in the air, cringing as he did. Unlike Darius, almost all of Draven's body was covered in bruises. Movement in general was immensely painful for the Noxian.

"That's exactly what I want to know... and what I am going to find out." Darius said, flexing his hand.

"We headed home finally?" Draven said, sighing.

"Yes. We make for Noxus at once." Darius said, smiling. "Swain will want to know about this."

* * *

Shyvana paused as she stepped through the city gates, looking up and around her, intricate buildings of grey and brown rising up towards the sky, all but blotting out the sun in the dark streets. Men, women and children alike cowered in the gutters as a heavily armed Noxian Company approached from deeper within the city. She made herself scarce, dipping into one of the side streets, the long bundle that she carried over her shoulder enough of problem to attract attention as it was. She set the weapon down as the company of soldier made their way past, each rank and file well disciplined and supremely kept.

Shyvana would have dismissed it as nothing more than a show of force if it wasn't for the scars that the company bore. Man, weapon and armor all bore signs of battle past and recent, some men still sporting bandages. They paid no heed to those who cowered back from their presence, simply marching through the streets, heads held high and weapons poised at the ready. These were not men simply going out for training or patrol, these men were preparing for war. They were the iron fist that held the rule over the city with a vice like grip, their mere presence enough to inspire dread among the populace.

Shyvana shivered as the last row of troops swept past. She began to step back into the street, but only noticed too late that the other beggars and scoundrels had stayed sunk back. As Shyvana stepped into the street, a carriage came to a screeching halt, the coachman yelling expletives as his team of pitch black horses reared up and neighed angrily, kicking out as Shyvana.

"WOAH!" HE shouted, fighting to control his team. "WOAH! Watch out, you blithering idiot!" He shouted down at Shyvana as she picked herself up out of the dirt, the horses shaking their manes and heads derisively at her. She snapped her jaw at them, and instantly the horses took steps away, their anger now turned to fear. The Coachman opened his mouth to speak but Shyvana shot him a glance that clicked his jaw shut before he could speak. Shyvana bent low and retrieved the lance, still swaddled in heavy burlap, and swung it over her shoulder.

"Jackins," A raspy voice called from the carriage. "What' ever is the hold up?"

"Nothing, master." The coachman called nervously, reigning his team back in. "A peasant girl merely spooked the horses." The horses were unsettled, and the coachman kept a watchful eye on Shyvana as she stepped away, the heavy burden on her shoulders.

"A peasant... spooked the horses?" The voice repeated. Long spindly fingers grasped the carriage door, swinging it open, as a pair of guards dismounted the rear pedestals of the carriage where they hung to the carriage. The moved quickly and in time with each other, approaching the door of the carriage, lowering the steps that lead into the small cabin.

Shyvana looked up to the coachman, his face a pale white as he looked over his shoulder at the dismounting passenger. Dread began to fill her stomach, wishing she could fade back into the crowd. Her carelessness was going to cause more trouble.

A man wearing a long, emerald green cloak stepped down from the carriage, a bird shaking it's head on his shoulders and twisting about, looking at Shyvana. Shyvana took an uneasy step backwards as the six-eyed creature spitted her with a glare that caused her skin to crawl, goosebumps rising all over her body. She shook her head as the man greeted her with an impassable stare, his balding head gleaming in the dull light. He walked with a cane, hobbling towards her after glancing around the streets. As if on queue, the streets seemed to empty, all of the beggars not wishing to stay and witness the confrontation between the girl and the old man. He swept forward, decorative armor clanking as he walked, limping with every step he took. He raised the cane and pointed it at Shyvana.

"You, girl." He said, glaring at her with piercing crimson eyes. "What us your name?"

Shyvana paused, her throat dry as she stared the man down. She felt like she knew him from somewhere, some unconscious thought screaming at her to run away, but her feet were firmly cemented to the ground.

"Shyvana." She said firmly, clearing the hesitation from her voice.

"I'm not familiar with it..." He said, eying her red hair and magenta eyes that stood out from under the hood and scarf that Shyvana had wrapped around her face. "Where do you hail from?"

"I came from below the barrier, the deserts of Shurima." She answered hesitantly. The man eyed her cautiously, his eyes running up and along her body. Shyvana immediately dirty, like she had been dipped in grease. She shivered.

"I see..." He mused, furrowing his brow. "That is certainly a large weapon for such a small... woman." He hesitated on the last word, as if he could see through the disguise and see who, what, she really was.

"I can handle it well enough." Shyvana said defiantly, taking a step forward, her anger starting to rise. She paused, blinking as the man turned away, nodding.

"See that you do." He said, chuckling. "We Noxians value strength above all else. If you can handle such a weapon with ease, you would surely do well in The Pit." He said, mounting the stair to the carriage. "Search it out if you ever get bored, we can always use people like you." The guards slammed the carriage door shut, raising the steps up, and sweeping back around the edge of the carriage. It rocked slightly as they mounted their posts, standing on the plates and holding to the bars.

"I will..." Shyvana said with trepidation, eying the man in the shadowy interior of the cart.

"Driver." He snapped. The coachman whistled and cracked his whip, the cart lurching into motion, picking up speed as it raced to catch up with the company of men.

Shyvana stood at the side of the path as people returned to their business, but now, they skirted around her, giving her a much wider berth as they did, her feet still locked in place. Shyvana fought the urge to vomit, her knees suddenly weak as she breathed deeply, her fear ambushing her, the adrenaline draining from her system.

She looked upwards towards a tall spire, rising up from the ground above the rest of the city, resting on a cliff side that dwarfed the rest of the city. Shyvana decided that she would head towards the skull that had been carved out of the mountain and set off, her feet still seeming to drag as she forced herself forward, step by step. She took deep breaths as she did, doing her best to slow her heart.

_That man... just who was he?_


	17. Chapter 17: Coliseum

Shyvana had been wandering the city for the better part of two days, spending the night in one of the city's many run down convents. She hadn't slept easily though, small noises in the night waking her at all hours, never allowing her to truly lay her head down to rest. The only comfort she had found was in Jarvan's Lance, the massive weapon more than enough to ward of any prying eyes or curious watchers who may have taken an interest in the red hair that poked out from under the hood she had taken to wearing. She had risen early the next morning, offered the nun a few copper pieces as thanks and then quickly left the building. While safe, her father had warned her of the many religious sects of Valoran and how they had led to many wars of their own long before the Rune Wars of old.

Shyvana frowned as she stepped through one of the massive archways that held the grandstands of The Pit. She waded through people and small stands of wares, merchants hawking everything from jewelry and trinkets to arms and armor. Shyvana was immersed in the shear abundance of people and sights and smells, her stomach rumbling as the smell of roasting meat filled her nostrils. Shyvana continued to eye the many stalls, some piled with vegetables and fruits, others piled with meat and fish roasting over open flames. The sights and smells were overwhelming, like nothing Shyvana could have ever imagined. He mouth watered as she looked at the many succulent dishes, the vendors peddling their wares to the spectators and competitors that roamed the area.

Shyvana followed her nose forwards, the smell of roasting meat heavy in the air, her stomach growling. She set the butt of the lance down on the ground, holding onto it, pulling the small pouch from her waist. She untied it and examined the contents, a few coins jingling inside when she opened it. She stepped towards the stall, pulling down her scarf and nodding to the man who stood behind the stall, turning the meat on the spit.

"How much?" She asked, nodding at the roasting meat.

"Two coppers." The man said, eying her. She pulled out a silver piece, rooting around deeper in the bag looking for coppers, but when she found none, she shrugged and handed the silver piece to him. She must have given them all to the nun before.

"Will that be enough for two?" She asked. The man examined the silver piece briefly then nodded, rooting around in his own pouch, pulling out a small pile of dirty brown copper pieces and handing them back to her.

"Here ya go." He said, pulling two large pieces of meat from tray that sat on the side of the grill, wrapping them together in some heavy paper, handing them to Shyvana. She nodded her thanks, and holding the lance close to here, she made her way free of the throng of people towards a fountain at the center of the busy marketplace. Shyvana sat the lance down against the edge of the fountain, hopping up onto the ledge, laying the food out next to her on the ledge. She unwrapped the meat, licking her lips as she did. The spicy aroma filled her nose as she bit in, the meat moist and tender. She chewed slowly, savoring the flavor.

It wasn't long before Shyvana had finished off both pieces of meat, licking her fingertips free of juice and grease as she did. She wiped her hands clean on the hem of the cloak and paused, looking around the market that was spread out before her. Everywhere people bartered and traded, some begging, some shouting as they did, the entire area alive with action and people. Shyvana smiled, immersed in just watching the people, her eyes wide with excitement. A breath caught in her throat though, a flash of bright red hair standing out in the crowd. Shyvana blinked several times as if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but realized that she was watching the same red hair as before move through the crowd, without a doubt. She looked carefully, and saw the same dark hood and cloak of her ward, Talon. Shyvana's heart raced, pounding in her ears.

"By the blood of my father..." She growled under her breath, stealing her nerves.

She slid off the ledge, the paper and bones falling to the cobbles as she grabbed the lance, shoving her way through the crowd towards where the red hair swirled just out of her reach. Shyvana was stuck as a cart came racing before her, blocking her view. Shyvana snarled as the driver shouted at her, raising a fist with one finger raised in an archaic gesture. She pushed through the crowd as the cart passed, the red hair disappearing through an archway and around a corner. Shyvana sprinted after the phantom, dodging around people, sending them sprawling, the heavy lance bouncing on her shoulder.

Shyvana vaulted down the staircase, landing heavily, looking around as men and women took a step back, eying the wild eyed girl with trepidation. Brown cloaks and the silver flash of armor obscured her view as Shyvana growled, peering through the crowds, goosebumps covering her arms. She blinked, her anger rising as she berated herself for getting so close and then losing her mark.

_So close... _Shyvana thought, letting her fist bounce of her thigh plate. _I was so close..._

"Move!" A man shouted, shoving Shyvana aside, knocking her nearly off her feet, the young dragoness flailing her free arm to keep her balance. She growled over her shoulder, but only the writhing mass of people could be seen, men and women moving about their business, completely unaware to the woes and anger of the young dragoness amid them. Shyvana was shoved along further down the hall, now caught in a flux of bodies moving down the hallway. It wasn't long before Shyvana found herself being deposited in a room full of burly men, many sharpening swords and polishing their armor. Some men wore little armor at all, other wore heavy helmets and carried shields upon their arms. Shyvana blinked suddenly finding all eyes on here. She froze, sucking in a single breath and holding it as men slowly got to their feet and looked on with interest as the throng slowly moved her closer to a table on the far side of the room. She frowned, realizing she was one of only a few women in the room, the others looking on at her with envy and malice in their expressions. Words were whispered around her, the general din rising as she finally approached the table, the man in front of her moving aside. Shyvana was bumped forward, snarling over her shoulder, coming face to face with a man, a large mustache hiding his mouth, bags under his eyes as he hunched over the small table. He had a quill in one hand, which he dipped in a bottle of ink and poised his hand over a list of names on parchment.

"Name?" He prompted, his mustache twitching like a small animal beneath his bulbous nose. Shyvana blinked, still overwhelmed by her surroundings. "Name?" He repeated louder, the mustache growing more agitated.

"Shyvana." She said, choking as she spoke. The man paused, looking up at her, he raised a bushy eyebrow, a dark eye spitting her with a stare that sent ice coursing through her veins. He shook his head and wrote the name on the parchment.

"You have your own arms and armor?" He said, glancing up at her and nodding.

"Yes." She said quietly.

"Entry fee?" He said, holding out his hand. Shyvana paused, blinking. After the man looked at her with a frown, she blinked lamely and reached down to the small coin purse on her belt.

"How much?" She asked, untying the small pouch from her belt again.

"Two Gold pieces." The man said, rolling his eyes and sighing. Shyvana poked around in the small pouch, having to dig down under the silver and copper pieces to where she found a single gold piece. She handed him the gold piece and frowned.

"I only have one." She said sadly. The man sighed.

"Let me see your coin purse, girly." Shyvana paused and handed him the coin purse. He emptied it out on the table and counted out 10 silver pieces, sliding the rest off the table, dumping it into the coin purse and tossing it back to Shyvana. She caught it against her chest, and looked inside. There wasn't much left.

"You're a part of group November." The man said, gesturing to the far wall. "Next!"

Shyvana was shoved aside by the man behind her, as she found herself getting pushed towards the far side of the room, her legs carrying her towards the corner where the man had pointed. She frowned, still not sure why exactly she had paid two full gold pieces to wait in this room. Shyvana paused as she approached a group of three men and a woman, their grizzled and scarred faces showing resentment as Shyvana approached.

"Group... November?" Shyvana said, tying the coin purse back to her belt. The woman paused sharpening her spear with a sharpening stone for only a moment, looking up at Shyvana, snorting and then nodding.

"You found us, girly." She said, her voice deep. One of the men sat apart from the other three humans, his helm pulled down over his face, his chest rising and falling, snores coming from under the hood he wore over his armor. He carried a polearm under one arm, the other crossed over his chest as he snored.

"What is this place..." Shyvana said, spinning in place, looking around as she did.

"Wait... you mean you don't know?" The woman said incredulously, he jaw falling open. Shyvana shook her head, setting the lance down in front of her, leaning on it, holding it up as she did. "Oh lord."

"So we god ourselves a deadweight, so what?" One of the men said, snorting. "Maybe the enemy will be too damn busy looking at her legs to bother fighting!" The other man who was sitting with him laughed heartily, Shyvana scowling at their comments.

"This, girly," The woman said, exasperated, "Is The Pit. We're about to fight for-..."

"Registration is closed!" The man behind the table shouted, interrupting the woman as she began to explain. "November and Blade groups, head to the designated start positions!" The man shouted, turning and leaving the room down a dark hallway.

"Blade?" One of the men said, grumbling. "Screw that. I want my bloody money back."

"Bite your tongue, the pay out more than makes it worth it." His friend said, striking his shoulder plate with a knuckle.

The two men rose up, the woman shaking her head as she did as well, carrying her spear over her shoulder. The third man had risen to his feet, rubbing his head, a heavy metal faceplate covering his face underneath his hood as he pulled himself to his feet with his polearm. He stretched, raising his hands to the air, three fingered gloves flexing as he did. He cracked his neck, the sound of armor sliding against armor being heard from beneath the dark cloak he wore, stepping off unceremoniously, ignoring Shyvana as he did. She fell into line behind the three as they set off down the hallway the man had disappeared down. They walked through the darkness for a few minutes, going deeper, Shyvana realizing the path was curving ever so slightly as they walked, torches at regular intervals, only serving as the bare minimum to keep them from getting lost. Shyvana heard the roar of a crowd begin to echo around the tunnel as they walked deeper.

The tunnel curved sharply, and then straightened and leveled out for a short distance before the man leading the group came to a halt. He slapped a hidden panel on the wall, causing a gate to slide down in front of and behind the group. Shyvana stopped in line, still unsure about what was going on.

"Alright, listen up." The man in the front said as he stopped at the gate, gesturing over his shoulder and upwards, towards a large open space above them. "This is a standard team death match." He said, nodding. "We have some dead weight on our hands, but that just means we have someone to cover our asses if shit hits the fan. She's also good bait." He snorted, wearing a vicious grin, spitting at the base of the wall as gears ground somewhere behind the rock, the ceiling above them parting and drawing apart to the sides. Dust drifted down to meet them, The ground shaking beneath Shyvana's feet and soon she realized that she was rising up. The man nodded at the three others and gave Shyvana a condescending glance as he turned towards the inside of the arena raising his hands above his head. Bright sunlight blinded Shyvana, the roar of a crowd thundering around her as the rising panel crashed into place, the passengers lurching with it as it did.

"Stick with me, kid." The hooded man with the armored faceplate said quietly. "They might not be able to see strength like I do, but just wait for the humans to tire themselves out. Then it's on." Shyvana eyed the man. He hadn't moved a muscle, still standing rock steady, his poleaxe held in two hands at a loose ready stance towards to ground. He gave away nothing, his armor, face and even his body language masked, but somehow, Shyvana could feel an aura of confidence seeping off him.

Shyvana didn't say anything, her face white, realizing just where she was as she stepped out into the open coliseum. Grandstands rose up in every direction, cheers and jeers from blood thirsty denizens causing the ground to rumble around them, their pounding feet and screams enough to rival the thunder of the gods. Shyvana wanted to cower back and hide from the monsters that seemed to sit among the stands, screaming and cheering as if they had no sense at all. The teams approached a box, one in one hemisphere of the circular arena, the other on the opposite side. At the half way point alogn the grandstands, there was a massive spectators box where men and women in expensive clothing relaxed, gorging themselves on fine wine and expensive food. Shyvana scanned the box briefly, looking for her mark, but shook her head, unable to find even a trace of the crimson red hair.

A man dressed in a suit cut to vague military lines stood up from his seat and approached a tube that descended into the floor. He cleared his throat and then spoke into the tube, his voice amplified by some magic, projected about the arena.

"Welcome to the pit!" The man announced, his voice echoing about the cavernous arena. Men and women screamed, the din rising to an almost intolerable level, the cheers thunderous. "The battle will begin in Thirty seconds! On the blue side, we have November!" He paused as the crowd jeered, boos interjected and food getting tossed into the arena. The man waited for a few moments for the jeering to pass. "And on the Red team, we have the Undefeated Team Blade!" The coliseum exploded, the roar enough to cause Shyvana to cringe. "Let the battle begin!" He shouted, a smug grin on his face as he returned to his seat.

"Charge!" The man who seemed to be leading team November shouted, charging towards the other team. He raised his two blades above his head, sprinting as fast as he could, his two compatriots right along with him, running straight for the enemy team.

"This is madness..." Shyvana said, following the mysterious armored fighter. "They'll be slaughtered... we can't let that happen." She protested, but the man simply held out his pole-axe, keeping Shyvana in pace with his jog.

"Just watch and wait..." He said, chuckling. "I'm hoping for a real challenge." Shyvana frowned, but didn't protest, simply pulling the scarf from around her face free, wrapping it around her hand that clutched Jarvan's Lance. She didn't know how to make it explode or accelerate like Jarvan did, but she expected that it would work just as well as a cudgel.

Their teammates charged forwards, weapons drawn, screaming their maddened battlecries, hurdling themselves upon the enemy's weapons. They lasted only a matter of seconds. The leader took a spear to the gut at twenty paces out, dropping to his knees, his head lopped off by the enemy's wedge formation as they exploded outwards, coming to meet November's now halfhearted attempts. Their dull gray armor was now a shining crimson, carotid blood splattering wide as the headless corpse fell the the ground. The second man in November had slowed as the enemy formation met him, one of the enemies raising his shield and driving the spike it carried directly into his throat, immediately crushing his windpipe. He flailed for a few seconds as one of the enemies peeled off, raising a war hammer above his head and bringing it down, smashing his head like a pumpkin. The woman was the last to go, her legs getting swept out from under her by a halberd, the deep strike maiming some of the muscle in her leg, the limb falling from under her, useless.

Shyvana shuddered as she screamed, one of the enemies driving a blade straight down through her open mouth, the scream now a pained gurgle as she died quickly. The blade was ripped out of her cheek, her head lolling to the side, blood pooling around the back of her head.

"That was barbaric..." Shyvana said, slowing to a stop.

"That's life here, kiddo." The man said. Shyvana could hear the smile in his voice though. "You take the two on the left, I have the right three!" He shouted, running off towards the right side of the arena. Shyvana frowned as only two enemies broke off, skirting around the man with halberds, holding him at bay.

Three enemies sprinted at Shyvana, forcing her off to the side, away from the mysterious warrior, his polearm spinning, raised above his head like a tribal dance. Shyvana had to dive to the side as a spear landed just short of her feet. She rolled over her shoulders, sliding into a defensive stance, ripping the wrappings off of Jarvan's Lance. She wheeled the weapon around her neck, using her own body as a fulcrum, the grip rolling as she did, raising the tip up and out. An enemy was diving towards her, his shield raised for a knockout blow, when Shyvana caught him in the side with the lance. She heaved, sliding her foot out, levering the man directly into the ground with a resounding _CRACK!_ Shyvana spun low, ducking under an enemy blade, the second and third enemies charging her. One closed in for a sword strike but Shyvana juked left, the blade sliding off the lance, held between her and the enemy as she spun, driving a fist up under his chin, right into his throat. The strike lofted him a few inches and Shyvana immediately slid backward, planting a high kick into his gut, tossing him backwards. Shyvana pulled back, holding the Lance between her and her other two opponents as the one she had struck ripped his helmet off as vomit gushed from under the armored helm.

"Bastard!" One of the enemies shouted, the voice metallic, ringing from under his helm. Shyvana grinned, baring her long fangs, sweeping her cloak back, ducking low, and taking off at a sprint. The man barely had time to react as flames sheathed her legs, carrying her forward. She cocked her free hand back and struck out and down, striking his helm, the protective garment sporting a fresh dent and ringing like a struck bell. The man struggled and pulled it off as Shyvana hissed, nursing her hand as she did. She heard the whistle of a blade slicing through the air as she dodged, a heavy blade cutting right through the air where she had been standing. An enemy stood near her, his feet spread as he came forth, ready to face her down. Shyvana simply smiled. Holding the lance, she puffed her chest out, rearing her arms back, and tossed her head back. She felt the transformation happening, her head twisting about as the horns emerged, the scaly blue skin covering parts of her face, her nose elongating and her throat thickening. She snapped her head forward, billowing a cloud of flames towards the man, his armor turning red hot, the flames burning through his skin. She chuckled as she took another deep breath, belching another great cloud of flames upon him as he struggled, his own armor cooking him alive.

"Pitiful..." She said, smiling cruelly, her draconian instincts overwhelming her. She lashed out, striking the man's red hot breast plate with a blue fist, the armor plated scales of her draconian side caving the man's weakened metal armor and driving straight into his chest. Shyvana heard the wet _Crunch_ of his chest, her hand stained with blood. She drew back, knocking him aside with a boot to his helm, smashing his face in. She shook the blood from her hand as the other two who had attacked her took nervous steps back, unsure how to hand the half-dragon's rage.

"Monster..." One of them breathed, still stepping nervously away.

"You are nothing before me." Shyvana purred as she stepped over the body of her enemy. She cringed as the dragon's features withdrew back into her skull, her pained smile more than enough to start her foes quaking in their boots. She sprinted forward, planting Jarvan's lance in the ground as she launched herself straight towards one of the men who still stood frozen with fear. She had both hands raised above her head in fists as she flew towards him, her massive speed and powerful legs propelling her through the air as if she could fly. She struck down with both fists directly on top of his helm, crushing it down like foil. She grabbed his chin as she flew over his shoulder, snapping his neck about instantly, killing him as she did, dragging him backwards with her. They were both horizontal as Shyvana raised her fist up as they hit the dirt, driving her fist straight through his crushed faceplate, smashing his face in with another sickeningly wet _Crunch_. She jumped off him, back towards the lance, her hand dripping with more blood and grey matter. She swung around the lance, ripping it from the ground as she did, raising the lance up above her head, striking down, driving the lance down through the last opponent's collar bone. She hit the narrow gap between his gorget and the collar of his helmet, the lance driving deep before it became stuck in the armor.

He screamed in terror as the blade sunk deeper, Shyvana planting a foot on his chest as she ripped the blade free. She raised it above her head, spinning it, the man already mortally wounded. She spun downwards, using the sharpened edge of the lance to cleave his head from his shoulders, the armored helmet rolling away from his body, blood spraying and pooling as it did. Shyvana grinned, wiping blood off her face as the other warrior approached, his poleaxe tossed over his shoulder, nodding approvingly.

"You did well, young one." He said raising his poleaxe over his head.

"They were nothing before me..." Shyvana said, smiling. She quivered with excitement, the act of cutting down her foes only serving to excite her.

"Who's next!?" He roared, pumping his poleaxe above his head. Shyvana raised Jarvan's lance above her head as the crowds exploded. The roar was thunderous, the ground shaking beneath their feet. She reveled in the roar, the pleasure of basking in the awe and fear that the crowd exuded was intoxicating. She shivered, the smile on her face growing wider.

* * *

High above the crowds in the sky box, the rich and powerful sat there and smirked, nodding approvingly at the bloodbath that had unfolded below. Some held small binoculars, pleased looks on their faces at the spectacle, a murmur of clapping echoing just above the conversations that were being held. Wagers were being traded, many unhappy faces and tight fists releasing wads of gold and bags of jingling coin.

At the center of it all, one man sat, tapping the top of his cane quietly against the arm of his chair. He watched silently as men and women whipped themselves into a frenzy, their crazed cries building, causing the platform underneath their feet to rumble, the glassware upon their tables clinking, the wine and expensive liquor rippling in their crystal glasses. He stroked his raven, the six eyed bird fidgeting slowly in the enclosed space.

"Who is that girl?" one of the faceless voices asked from somewhere to his side.

"I don't know, I've never seen her before." Another faceless voice said.

"Perhaps a newcomer?" A third proposed.

"Well obviously." One of the voices said, snarkily.

"Her use of flame magic was... different and effective." A voice said, a mixture of approval and smugness swirling in the tone.

"I'm still curious about her use of that lance... It was... crude but brutal." A voice said.

The man at the center of it all basked in the conversation around him, letting the voices diverge and mix with the ambient noise, his mind picking out tidbits here and there that seemed relevant. He tried to classify them all, sorting away what he through useful for later, all of it potential ammunition for a later battle. He opened his eyes as he shut out the clamor, watching the male and female warriors get escorted from the arena by guards. They would be taken to where they would receive their rewards and then released into the city, but not before being warned to stay close so they could be recalled for more fights. He had expected much from the male warrior, he was merely carrying out his orders, but the female...

"Shyvana..." The man breathed, remembering the name of the girl he had met. When he had first met the young woman, he had dismissed her as a mere peasant. Now though, she was becoming a potential threat. Strength like that seldom came along without ulterior motives, and unfortunately, there was always more room for trouble. She was still shrouded in mystery, but he was sure that this girl would be a powerful ally, were she to be swayed to his side. He wondered what exactly he could offer her that would entice her to his camp. "What is it you seek, young one..." He mused, emptying his glass of wine and pulling himself to his feet.

"Done already, Swain?" One of the other military officers said, raising a glass of wine in mock salute.

"These spectacles do not please as they once did, Keiran." He growled, adjusting his cloak under his breast plate. The heavy armor was uncomfortable in the heat, but Swain saw the pomp and circumstance as a necessary political move. His grab for power would come soon enough, his plans already progressing into the late stages. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that his plans were going to be delayed, but he would be certain to not let them fail. He also had a sinking suspicion about the lance she carried. It was a weapon he recognized, but not one he had seen for many years. "My time spent upon the battlefield has left me with an ill flavor for... staged combat." His gaze drifted back to the arena, letting images play over in his mind.

It had given him pause the first time he had seen the large bundle, and while he was curious, he had read reports of the upstart Demacian Prince going missing two years ago. He recognized the lance from an encounter long past. A Demacian lance. He kept quiet about it though, wondering how he would deal with that issue when it came. There had been many accusations tossed about before reports had shown the prince was merely roving about the Freljord, killing beast and bandit alike, before he had disappeared below Mogron pass. Swain's scouts had lost track of him for almost a year, the time he spent in Mogron pass and below a mystery, even to Swain. He stretched his good leg, the weak limb giving him trouble as he grew older.

Swain scowled, still regretting his impudence when he had refused better medical treatment early in his career.

"That is understandable." Keiran Darkwill said smugly, shrugging as he stood, uneasy on his feet.

"My apologies for not staying any longer after only just returning, I have a... prisoner to attend to now." Swain said, bowing his head ot the younger officer. "Give your father my regards."

"If you like, we can set one of our new champions here up against that prisoner that gave your captains such a hard time." Keiran said with a drunken chuckle. "Surely, if he bested your strongest Captain, he might prove quite the challenge to these new gladiators."

"Now that is a thought." Swain said, stopping, musing over the thought of putting the Demacian prince and the woman who wielded his lance in the arena together. If she had taken from him once, and he had bested both his captains, it would serve to be a good fight. "I'll see to it that she receives a bag of gold to do with what she sees fit. Set her up in an Inn and she can fight tomorrow."

"We'll make a spectacle of it indeed." Keiran said, raising his glass, his dueling saber clinking on his belt.

"Indeed." Swain said, moving off down the steps, his captain falling into line with him. Darius growled, frowning as he walked with his General.

"I hate that bastard." He growled, still nursing his bruised face.

"It is all a necessary charade." Swain said, shaking his head. "He may be a bloody fool, but he's also a bloody fool with power. It is a calculated risk. See to it the prisoner is taken care of."

"I still wish you would let me dispatch that one, he made a fool of me and my men..." Darius growled as they descended through the hallow walls of the coliseum.

"He is both a political prisoner, and a prisoner of war." Swain said with a grunt as he stopped at the bottom of the steps. "See that he is fed and given medical treatment, I want him in full fighting strength for the battle tomorrow."

"As you wish, general." Darius said, saluting. "Any further orders?"

"Make sure the tail on the girl keeps his distance. I want her accounted for at all times, but I don't want her spooked. Keep forces on standby if we need to force her to fight tomorrow." He spoke quietly as they approached the landing.

"Aye, sir." Darius said, wincing as he dropped his salute. Swain watched the broad shouldered Noxian captain go. If the Demacican prince done that much damage in such a short time, it would be a good fight tomorrow. He was satisfied that the prince would fight hard to reclaim his lance from the half-beast girl who had taken it from him.

"And tell your brother that he is to behave himself." Swain called after the captain. Darius grunted, unsure about how to actually get his roguish brother to do so. Swain grinned as Darius disappeared around the corner. "Hopefully these worms will dispatch themselves, eh, Beatrice?" He mused, his raven shaking her head and ruffling her feathers.


	18. Chapter 18: Lurking

Jarvan woke to the sound of dripping water, the dank, pungent smell of human excrement filling his nostrils as he opened his eyes. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, a lump where he had been struck with the pommel of a sword. He looked about his new accommodations, the rough cut stone walls and moss a testament to the humid air that sat in the cell. There was a chamber pot that sat in the corner, it's contents enough to turn Jarvan's stomach with just the smell.

"I'm starting to hate waking up in dark places like this." He groaned, leaning against the wall behind him, the stone block, which served as a cot, cold as ice.

"Pipe down." A guard grunted from outside the door. Jarvan sighed, sitting back and closing his eyes, willing the pounding headache he had to go away. It didn't help, the smell enough to disturb any meditations or laming breathing he tried. Time drifted slowly by, with nothing to do in the darkness but fiddle his thumb and formulate inane escape plots. Several plans later, Jarvan was merely growing frustrated. He stood, stretching his neck and back as he did. He was wearing only his trousers, boots and a tunic, the coll rock leaving a print on his back as he stretched his back.

He sighed as he touched his toes and then stood up, reaching to the low lying ceiling of the prison cell. It was only just out of his reach, but with a small hop he could touch it. Jarvan cracked his neck and spun his torso about, hopping from foot to foot as he did. He settled into a fighting stance, facing the far wall, staying on the balls of his feet as he did. He closed his eyes, imagining that there was a training dummy before him, breathing slowly. He struck out his his right hand, the strike as fast as a viper. He truck three more times in quick succession with the right, followed by a low left, a mid left and then a right. He jumped back, bouncing from foot to foot, the motion and exercise helping to clear his mind and pass the time. He ducked and weaved, imagining a flurry of blows being thrown at him, working in strikes occasionally, still moving as much as possible. He sunk low, bringing his fist up, right where he imagined his opponent to be.

"Boxing with shadows?" One of the Guards said, smirking as he turned, deciding to check what the commotion was. The open fronted cell, with it's heavy iron bars. wouldn't stand up to but so much punishment. Unfortunately, Jarvan had nothing he could use to actually apply said punishment, and the gaps were much to narrow to get anything but an arm through. He could probably strangle one of the guards, but it wouldn't be worth the risk with the other guards around.

"Nightmares make much better opponents." Jarvan said, breathing heavily, working up a sweat. He grunted as he bounced back and forth from foot to foot, shifting his balance back and forth with each motion.

"Hah, you think you can fight a nightmare?" The guard snorted.

"No, but you can strike it's head." Jarvan answered matter-of-factually, grinning as the guard stumbled, fumbling his response.

"Is that so?" The guard said, grumbling. "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm fighting a nightmare." The guard snorted in disgust, turning away. Jarvan grinned, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Ignore 'im, mate." The other guard said, finally shifting against the far wall. "Ain't no way a nightmare could do anything to ya."

Jarvan chuckled, peeling off the rough tunic he was wearing and sitting with his back against the cool stone wall.

"I wouldn't expect you to believe me." Jarvan said, grinning. "I hardly believed it the first time I saw it, myself." He balled the tunic up behind his head, lying down on the stone bench that served as the bed and closed his eyes.

"What do you mean 'the first time I saw it'?" The first guard said, frowning, leaning against the bars.

"He's jus pullin' ya leg." The seconds guard said dismissively, but Jarvan could tell he had them both hooked.

"I don't suppose you know who I am, and I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you..." Jarvan prefaced, trying to hide the amusement in his voice, "But I spent over a year wandering Valoran south of Mogron pass. I saw all manner of creatures, from great beasts to the very things of nightmares coming alive to haunt you while I was there."

"Nightmares... you saw one?" The first guard said, gripping the bars excitedly. Jarvan sat up grinning as he did. He met the man's gaze, the young guard hooked on his tale. He nodded. "What did it look like?"

"It was a beast of swirling darkness and eternal damnation." Jarvan said darkly, lending his voice a huskiness to emphasize his point. "It carried two great blades upon it's forearms and could fly, shrouding you in darkness and blacking out the sun as it came. It was unlike any other beast I had ever faced. My men were sent running in terror, leaving me alone to face it down, eye to eye with this gruesome shadow being. It's entire body was wispy and liquid, sinking into the ground and reappearing from any hint of a shadow, striking from any and all sides as if it were nothing but a shadow itself."

Jarvan hid his grin with a dark grimace as the second guard joined his younger fellow, his mouth just barely hanging open. Jarvan slid off the bed, pacing near the bars, put on a solemn frown, as if he was thinking.

"What happened?" The younger guard said. "It didn't kill you, did it?"

"Obviously naht, ya dolt." The second guard snapped, stepping back from the bars and crossing his arms, trying to hide his interest. "Let him finish."

"I've fought many a creature before, of all shape, sizes and locale..." Jarvan said, continuing to pace. He was continuously growing more animate as he continued the story. "But never had I face a foe that was made of pure shadow." Jarvan gestured to a gruesome scar along his side, shivering. "He drove his shadow blade into my side and tried to rip me apart, but I managed the knee him in the side of the head." Jarvan said, bringing his knee up in demonstration. "It seemed to stun him just long enough to get the blade out of my side. I was losing blood fast though, the gash in my side pouring blood."

"How'd you kill it?" The younger guard said, gripping the bar again, his white knuckles showing even in the dim light. The older of the guards was hanging loosely to the bars again, his eyes locked on Jarvan.

"You can't kill a shadow." Jarvan said, grimacing. "Only force it away." Jarvan grinned. "As he reeled from my strike to the neck, I ignited some of the brush, starting a massive fire. With no shadows to hide in, he was forced to face me finally. He reared his blades back, charging in..." Jarvan reached his arms back over his shoulders like he was about to strike. "And..." He reached out, his arm mere blurs. He grabbed each guard by the wrist, throwing himself backwards, pulling the guards with him, their arms fitting through the gaps up to the shoulder, their heads crashing against the bars. Jarvan grinned as they slumped against the bars, dropping slowly to the ground as Jarvan chuckled.

"G'night, boys." He said, bending down and rooting through their contents of the guards belt pouches. He came away with a key, a water bottle and a dagger, along with a few coins. Jarvan was pleased with himself, glad to see that he could still out his charisma to good use. He was reaching through the bars to unlock the gate when the sound of boots alerted him that he was not alone.

"I would just drop the key, fool." Darius growled, planting a fist on his hip, wiping the sweat from his brow. "You won't get far, even if you were able to get that gate open." Guards followed him in, dragging away the two who Jarvan had knocked out, a much large contingent filling the hallway outside his prison cell.

"Ah, if it isn't old spiky head!" Jarvan said, sitting back on the floor, smiling happily to himself. "How's your brother? I was just entertaining the guards here when they slipped and hit their heads. I was merely searching for some first aid to treat them with when..."

"Enough!" Darius shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. "I've had enough of your games." He grinned cruelly. "Swain wants you in fighting shape for tomorrow." Jarvan sat up, dropping the mocking attitude immediately, sudden attentive to what the guard had to say.

"Swain is here?" Jarvan hissed.

"Of course, you idiot, this is Noxus." Darius grinned. "Swain _is _Noxus. He was the one who had you brought here." Jarvan stood, moving to the bars, gripping them with white knuckled fists, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and rage.

"I want to see him!" Jarvan growled. Darius raised his ax to Jarvan's chin, grinning still.

"In time, you might." He hissed, beginning to turn away.

"I demand it!" Jarvan shouted.

"Like hell!" Darius spat, wheeling about, planning a blow directly on Jarvan's temple with an armored gauntlet. Jarvan crashed backwards, hitting the far stone wall and ending up in a heap on the floor, the world hazy around him, his vision swirling.

"Get in there and strip him of what he has taken." Darius ordered, his voice causing Jarvan's head to pound. He heard the creak of the gate opening and the rustle of guards searching him from head to toe. He was fading in and out of consciousness as the guards took the key, water and other things he had taken. Jarvan grabbed at one of the guards as he retreated, but only managed to pull himself over, ending up sprawled out on the floor.

"Wait..." He groaned. Or at least he thought he did.

"Think of this as pay back, scum." Darius said, raising his boot back next to Jarvan's head. He brought it down on the side of Jarvan's head, casting the prince into darkness.

* * *

"No weapons allowed!" The Barkeeper shouted as Shyvana stepped down the rough cut steps into the dark pub. She shot him a defiant look, but the Barkeep frowned and shook his head. "Leave it at the door." She sighed, leaving the heavy weapon at the base of the steps where a rack of other weapons sat.

Shyvana pulled her hook back, shaking her hair out as she approached the bar. She slid into an open seat, the other men that stood there, frowning, backing away from the bar with a growl, their drinks in hand. Shyvana received several dirty looks but they didn't back up the angry looks and just gave her a wide berth. Several of them retreated to a table, and huddled over, casting glances at her as they did. They spoke in hushed tones, still watching as Shyvana sat at the bar. The bartender leaned in and glared at Shyvana for a few seconds, his eyes wide, trying to catch her gaze. Shyvana frowned, wiping the hair from her eyes, sweeping it behind her ear.

"Ahh, okay then." The barkeep said, shaking his head. He grabbed a tankard and filled it from a large cask that was set in the wall behind him. The frothy amber liquid splashed onto the bar as the barkeep set it before her. Shyvana paused, looking at the drink with trepidation.

"What's this?" She said, leaning forward and sniffing the brew.

"It's a tankard of Mead." He said, taking the towel from his shoulder and wiping the spilled alcohol from the bar. "What's it look like?"

"Do I have to pay for it?" She asked, frowning.

"This one's been paid for it seems." The barkeep said, looking out over the bar, setting about polishing a tankard. She looked over her shoulder, a dirty looking man raising his own tankard, touching the bottom of it to his brow in mock salute. He then proceeded to slip out of his chair, collapsing on the floor. Shyvana turned back to the bar and eyed the barkeep suspiciously, but he merely shrugged. "He likes to buy drinks for newcomers."

"Is he going to be okay?" She said, watching the man struggle back into his chair, the other patrons moving away from the rapidly expanding puddle of mead he had spilled. Shyvana frowned, but picked up the tankard and took a shallow sip. The brew was spicy but sweet, burning as it went down. It was warming, and the day of wandering through the city after her fight had left her cold and tired. The ale warmed her from the inside though, and she felt better already. "It's good..." She said quietly, taking a much longer pull. The Barkeep grinned, puffing his chest out slightly and leaned against the bar, putting on a cheesy grin.

"Best in the city, little missy." He said, winking. "We're famous for our mead here, though we mostly just brew it and send it out. Few people know about this little spot." He patted the bar affectionately. "And don't worry about ole Ralph. He likes his mead, be that on his shirt or in his belly." The Barkeep said, chuckling.

"How odd..." Shyvana said, finishing the tankard off with a single long pull. She dropped it on the bar top, shivering as the spicy ale worked down through her body, warming her from the core against the chilly night air.

"Have another." The Barkeep said, filling her tankard with the frothy ale. "On the house."

"Thanks." Shyvana said, exhaling, the single tankard hardly enough to get her tipsy. She pulled the drink closer, but nursed it, deciding to savor this one. "Have any rooms?"

"A few." The Barkeep said, nodding. "You alone?" He said, he frowned though, a gloomy look settling on Shyvana's face as memories were dredged up again. She dropped her head, clenching the grip on the mug of the metal tankard.

"Sorry... didn't mean anything by it." The Barkeep said, shrugging again, moving to clean another mug.

"No, no..." Shyvana said, sighing. "Just... bad memories." she took a long pull off the tankard, halving it.

"Sorry to hear that." The Barkeep said quietly. "I've got a good room you can use. Clean, but a bit small."

"Sounds perfect." Shyvana said quietly, fishing the gold purse out of her small bag. Much of the weight she carried consisted of her winnings from earlier that day, most of it in gold coin. "How much?"

"Five silver pieces a night, including meals." He responded, ducking behind the bar for a few seconds. He reappeared, carrying what looked like a lock box, fishing a key for it from his pocket. Shyvana fished a gold coin from her own purse, handing it over to the Barkeep.

"Keep the change." She said, shaking her head as the man began digging through the box for change. "Just gimme a refill and do me a favor."

"I'll oblige on the refill, but no guarantees on the favor, missy." He said, eying her cautiously. Statements like that usually led to trouble.

"Two things actually." Shyvana said, after tossing the last of her mug off. "I'm looking for a man who goes by the name of Talon." The Barkeep frowned as he thought, filling her tankard again.

"Here ya go." He said, skidding the tankard onto the bar. He perched a hand on his head, scratching momentarily. "I think there's a character who's in here sometimes that goes by the name of Talon." He frowned, looking out around the bar. "He's not here tonight, oddly enough, he's usually in here for a drink around now."

"That's alright." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "I just have a debt to pay back. Secondly..." She said, taking a sip from her tankard. "Do me a favor, and keep my presence here quiet if you don't mind." She took another pull from her tankard.

"Aye, I can do that." The man said, grinning, his mustache twitching on his face. "Can't say much for the other patrons, you're already pretty infamous around the city." He said grinning. "Quite the show you put on, earlier today. Taking down Team Blade like that." He chuckled. "Lotsa people were quite salty about their winnings." He said, shaking his head, cleaning another mug.

"And you?" Shyvana said, looking at him, not sure whether to expect another tankard or a fist from behind the bar. The man had salt and pepper black hair, trimmed fairly short, his mustache and goatee hiding most of his mouth, his bushy eyebrows bouncing atop two soft brown orbs. He had gentle eyes, but like everyone in the city, they were also cold and calculating. He'd be nice and polite so long as it didn't put him in any danger.

"I made quite a bit off their losing." He said with a grin. "Paid off some debtors, bought some new tankards, had some extra to take home to the missus." He chuckled again, gesturing to her drink. "Ralph made a bit of coin as well, though he spent it all on mead and whores already." The Barkeep chuckled again, shaking his head.

"It's good to see a friendly face." Shyvana said quietly, staring into her tankard of mead.

"Another?" He asked, still polishing tankards. Shyvana nodded, letting him top her off. She stared at the foam atop the brew he set before her, contemplating her next course of action. She had no desire to stay in Noxus and become a gladiatorial beast for the enjoyment of the city... but part of her enjoyed it. She enjoyed the attention it brought her and the joy she felt cutting men down... it was exhilarating. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

"Jarvan would be ashamed..." She muttered before tossing off the tankard of mead in a single go.

"You alright, missy?" The Barkeep asked, eying her with trepidation, her cheeks reddening.

"Just... tired." Shyvana muttered. "Thanks for the mead." She said, pushing her stool back and getting to her feet.

"Of course." The Barkeep said, keeping an eye on her. He handed her a key, which Shyvana took and pocketed. "Top of the steps, bear left and you'll see more steps. Up those and towards the back. Your room is on the left. Bathroom is across the hall."

"Thanks." Shyvana said, nodding, heading to the stairs, picking up Jarvan's Lance and making her way up the stairs. She found the room with little trouble, opening the door, stepping in, and closing it behind her. She sighed heavily, dragging a chair over and setting is against the door. It would hold short of anyone destroying the entire door to get in. There was a basin and a pitcher of water off to one side of the room, and Shyvana set the lance down against one of the walls.

She shed her armor, stacking it against the far wall, stripping down to nothing. She immediately felt lighter, stretching her arms above her head and stretching her back. She paused, looking down at her body, examining the growing collection of scars she had. The worst of them were the three long, parallel scars that ran up her hip and onto her stomach from where Kampf had bloodied her. Jarvan had sewn the wounds shut, the wounds still slightly jagged despite the man's caring touch. Shyvana touched the scars gingerly, pressing her hand to them and closing her eyes, hugging her other arm across her chest, letting her mind wander back to Jarvan. She could already feel tears beginning to well at the corner of her eyes, but she ignored them, brushing them away and trying to remember the good things about Jarvan.

An image of the man formed in her mind, his gentle eyes looking down at her, his hand resting atop his head, a grin upon his face. She had faced much hatred from human and dragon alike, and despite his kindness, that hatred of his race, be it fear and hatred of dragons by the humans, or the smug dismissal of the humans by dragon kind, she had yet to escape it. She face hatred from everywhere, Jarvan the only man who had truly shown her acceptance and kindness. He had become a ray of sunshine in a darkening world, pulling her back from the brink.

She shivered, thinking back to when she had first met Jarvan. He had come at a point where Shyvana was becoming desperate for an out, her mind wandering to despicable possibilities, as she was facing a life as an outcast and a freak. She had been on the brink of starvation and dehydration, her own mortality facing her straight in the eye when Jarvan appeared. It was then that she had gained a new purpose in her life and realized that there was still plenty to live for. She owed it to Jarvan to at least use her life to the fullest, and Shyvana intended to. She would slay the beast who had killed him, and then slay the beast who had killed her father. From there she had no idea what the world could hold for her, but she had power. She flexed her hand, the blue scales hardening over her clawed hand. She was getting better at controlling the transformations and using them at will. It would serve her well to do so in the future.

She shook her hand out, the pale skin and nail returning to normal length, frowning as she did so, shivering, the sensation of feeling her body change something she would never get used to. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand, raising both arms above her head, stretching languidly. She looked at her reflection, eying her body. She had seen many different females in her time here in Noxus, but she had yet to see another female as pretty as herself. She cupped her breasts, frowning as she did. She had always wondered what purpose they served, but she had seen Jarvan sneak glances at them before. They may have served as nothing more than tools to attract mates, but she had never had the chance to ask her father nor Jarvan about them. She yawned again, returning her gaze returning to the mirror. There was dirt all over her face, her cheeks slightly red with the mead she had downed before. She poured some water into the basin, snapping her fingers, a small flame appearing as she lit a candle that hung on the wall. She looked into the mirror, frowning at what she saw.

She had the same features, nothing had changed, but there was a malevolence there that hadn't been before. The hatred she carried for those who had stolen Jarvan from her was still rife in her heart, and it showed in her face. Dark circles marred the underside of her eyes, giving her a demonic cast to her face. Her hair was pulled back, a thick braid falling over her shoulder. She pulled the braid around, running a hand along it, ending at the ribbon that she had been given by Mara. She pulled the ribbon from her hair, balling it in her hand, throwing it against he far wall, leaning against the table, clenching her eyes shut as tears welled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks.

Blood covered her hands, the dried and flaked blood black against her pale skin. She dunked her hands in the water, scrubbing and scratching at the blood, trying to get it off her hands. The water turned red as she broke her own skin, blood pouring from her hand. She crashed backwards, falling to the ground as tears rolled down her face. The haunting image of Quinn, dismissing her as a beast, haunted her vision. Ferron had accepted her at first, but as soon as he had seen her true side, she had become nothing more than an animal to him. She was a freak, a beast in the eyes of the humans, a creature to be outcast. She clamped her hands to the side of her head, a sickening feeling in her stomach telling her that Mara and Ferron had met some horrible fate because of her. She rocked on her knees, clutching the wound she had inflicted on her hand, the blood dripping down her body.

"Everything... everything I touch is bloody..." She croaked, tears falling down her face. She stood slowly, her ankle twisting about, Shyvana hissing and gasping as it did, tears dripping on the floor, running down her face. She struggled to her feet, wiping the tears away from her face on her arm, pulling herself towards the bed slowly. She stumbled towards the bed, ripping part of the hem of her tunic off, wrapping it haphazardly around her hand where she had left a deep mark on her hand. She cast the rest aside, tripping over the sideboard of the bed, collapsing.

"What a mess I've become without you..." She breathed out softly, tears stinging her eyes. She slowly drifted off to sleep, letting the darkness overwhelm her, tears still wetting her pillow as she drifted off to a fitful rest.

* * *

"What's gotten into you, calling me out in the middle of the night like this?" A hulking shadow rumbled, appearing from a side alley. He paused, ducking back into the alley way as a roving guard passed on his patrol route, a dejected sneer gleaming on his chops. "Fascist pigs."

"Shut your trap, I have a job." A second voice said, growling. "Besides, you're nothing more than a mangy dog, yourself."

"Do not think that just because I am no longer human that I do not still maintain some semblance of my humanity." There was a guttural growl. "I may be part beast now, but I can still use those senses to my own devices."

"Right, right..." The first voice said, his hands raising peaceably between the two figures, masked by the shadows. "Apologies."

"And my fee?" The second said, holding out a hideously misshapen, clawed hand. Dark fur poked from under the edge of the cloak, golden gauntlets covering much of his hands, razor sharp claws gleaming in the dull moon light.

"Here." The sound of a bag of jingling coin trading hands could be heard. "Your target is a young woman staying at the Drunken Dagger. Red hair, bad temper, a fondness of striking people in the face."

"You need me for a simple job like this?" The seconds man reared his head back, laughing, his voice echoing around the streets. "Surely the 'Glorious Executioner' doesn't need my help to capture a single girl."

"Bite your tongue." Draven snapped, pulling his hood back. "She took out three members of my Blade Team today like it was nothing. She's not human. I don't know what she is."

"Oh?" The beast-hunter said, now paying attention. "Another half beast? I suppose this could prove to be interesting, indeed."

"Just don't kill her." Draven said, grinning. "That's where Draven shines..."

"I will do my best." The second rumbled. "But now... It's time to hunt." He disappeared into the darkness, taking Draven's gold with him.

"And now for my part of this show." Draven said, grinning. He turned away, pausing as the other disappeared into the night. "Beware, you little hussy, I'll be coming for you."


	19. Chapter 19: Manhunt

Shyvana awoke to the sounds of a crowd gathering outside, to angry shouts and voices carrying through the still night air, angry orange shapes dancing upon the wall from the streets below, shining through the dusty window panes. Shyvana sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she groaned, looking out at the sky, only a bare sliver of the moon to cut through the pitch black sky. She stumbled out of bed, moving towards the window, looking out into the streets below.

Ice shot through her veins as a mob of men and women, pitchforks in hands, torches carried above their heads, was forming in the streets below. Some carried real weapons, a few swords here and there, but most carried tools and torches. Shyvana pressed her nose to the cool glass, looking left and right down the streets, for once not a single guard in sight. The crowd was growing restless, their jeering and banter growing louder as a hooded figure shouted and provoked then. Shyvana grimaced as the hooded figure looked up and back over his shoulder, a toothy grin showing beneath the hood and the beard it hid. Shyvana doubted that the crier could see into the window, but a chill ran down her spine.

She dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes and armor she had strewn haphazardly around the room before. As she was pulling on her last gauntlet, trying to do so carefully over the wound on her hand, there came a knock at the door. It wasn't a polite knock though, it was an angry banging. Shouts and murmurs came from the hallway beyond, and Shyvana heard the shuffle of several men in the hallway beyond. She growled, as she strapped the gauntlet down. She picked up Jarvan's lance, holding it over her shoulder as she pulled her cloak over her shoulder and fastened the Demacian pin in place.

"Open up!" The roar that came from the behind the door was definitely human, and the murmur of conversation began as Shyvana crept slowly forwards.

"Break it down!" Shyvana stepped back, holding the lance between her and the door in a ready stance, expecting the door to come tumbling down. The door flexed as a heavy thud sounded, the chair creaking as Shyvana sank back, expecting the door to buckle at any moment. Several more thuds came, but they were unable to break through the thick wood and the chair she had braced the door with.

"We can't break it down." someone grumbled.

"Fine, whatever, we'll just blow it down." Shyvana furrowed her brow, wondering where they were doing.

"Set the charges." A voice commanded, many of the voices dying away as the moved back down the hallway. Shyvana heard the sound of someone dropping something against the door, and then the sound of a flint and steel could be heard, the acrid smell of the magnesium drifting under the door.

"Charges?" Shyvana mouthed, frowning. _Were they going to burn the door down?_

There was some cursing from who ever was working on the far side of the door, and then the stench of gunpowder as the sound of boots thundering down the hallway told Shyvana everything she needed to know. She had heard stories of human explosives from her father, but she had only just realized what was happening. She scampered to her feet, bowling a chair over, bounding up onto the bed. She was about to dive through the glass when a massive explosion ripped her from her feet, blowing the entire window out and sending her sailing across the street. She crashed to the ground, rolling as best she could, the smell of singed wool and hair gagging her as she tried to breath, splinters and metal shards fluttering down through the air around her. The crowd roared its approval as they surrounded her, pitchforks raised above their heads and torches waving madly about, casting angry orange light up and down the street.

"Is she alive?" Someone asked as the crowd drew near.

"Someone check!" Someone else shouted. Somewhere in the crowd, someone hefted a brick, tossing it at Shyvana. It struck her just about the right eyebrow, leaving a deep gash that began to bleed. Shyvana hissed, reeling back and crawling backwards on her hands and knees, one hand clasped across the wound.

"Get her!" Someone cried, pointed fingers all closing on her. The crowd, surged forward, Shyvana grabbing for Jarvan's lance and levering it about, sweeping the front of the crowd off their feet.

The crowd descended into madness as they tumbled over those already on the ground, the back of the ground shoving forward and only causing trouble.

Shyvana hefted the lance onto her shoulder and sprinted down the alleyway, stumbling as she did, blinking to try and clear her vision, blood dripping down her brow into her eye, her vision blurry from where she had been struck.

"After her!" Someone shouted. "Don't let her escape!" Shyvana rounded a corner, skidding to a stop as she nearly ran face first into a stone wall. As the voices grew closer, Shyvana turned, looking to escape down the opposite way, but armed men had already blocked her path. Shyvana frowned as the men drew nearer to her, weapons drawn, daggers and short blades held at the ready. Shyvana backed up towards the corner of the alleyway, a frown on her face, the eery light only making things seem that much more ominous. Shyvana growled, a frown on her face as she felt her boot strike the bricks behind her.

"Don't worry, you little hussy." One of the men hissed, "We brought back up this time. Bind her!" A cloaked figure stepped out of the wall of men, the archaic runes on his arm a sign that he was a sorcerer. Shyvana braced, her hand still fidgeting with the lance. She backed further into the corner, but she was trapped. The lance exploded, propelling her straight up, nearly jerking her arm from its socket, the lance sending her high into the air. She yelped as she found herself seemingly floating in air, the sensation of weightlessness more than enough to leave her giddy.

She began to sink back to the earth though, scrambling for the edge of a building. She managed to grab a hold, but the aging tile crackled and collapsed under her weight, sending her back to the ground, crashing to where she had just been.

"That was impressive!" Someone shouted from behind the group, the mob filtering through the alleyway towards her, the commotion drawing them in. Shyvana pulled herself to her feet, brushing her cloak off, sighing as the mob pressed in towards.

"Bind her properly, you useless mage!" A voice cried, the sorcerer flipping through his tome. Shyvana formed a ball of fire in her hand, throwing it out at the sorcerer, his book crumbling into ashes and falling to the ground. His jaw hung open and many of the people backed away, giving her distance as she let flames cloak her legs. Shyvana leap upwards, grabbing a beam that jutted out of the building, riding a wall of flames as she used the heat to give her jump just a little more distance. She landed on all fours and scrambled forwards, dodging a binding as it exploded on the ground behind her, a magical rune marking the ground where it had struck. Shyvana sprinted into the street, running as fast as she could, a cloak of flames shrouding her feet as she speed along the mostly deserted thoroughfare. She leap over a cart as it trundled through an intersection, the men following her shouting at the driver as the ran around the cart, some of them nearly crushed by the horses as they did.

Shyvana turned a corner, pressing her back against the wall as the mob began to grow in the streets. She breathed deeply, her heart racing, the entire city chasing after her as she caught her breath. She stuck her head out as the mob surged forward towards her almost instantly.

"There it is! The She-dragon!" Someone shouted. Shyvana paused, moving swiftly, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the mob. She wasn't able to though. The mod was now armed with dagger, pitchforks, torches and other weapons, and while Shyvana could have easily killed many of them as a dragon, she would eventually be overwhelmed and either captured or slain. She wasn't used to fighting as a dragon, it was still something new to her. Her father had advocated peace towards human; obviously he had never come to this city before.

"What do they want?" Shyvana hissed as she took off again, the mob close behind. Ahead of her, a wall of men had formed, carrying large poles and swords, ready to block her in. Shyvana simply rolled forward, letting her fist fall behind her, flames coiling around her clenched fist. She brought her fists forward violently as she struck the barrier, springing out of the roll like a cannon, flames exploding outwards as she crashed down on a wide-eyed man. The explosion echoed through the empty streets, lights flickering on about the city as men and women flocked to the streets, afraid that they may be under attack. Shyvana took advantage of the confusion, disappearing into an alleyway and circling back around the biggest concentration of men. She ducked in and out of garbage bins and storage crates, stepping through water that smelled so foul she could hardly breath. She pressed on till the only thing she could hear was her own heart beat, pounding in her ears, the mob and shouts of those searching for her off across the city.

Shyvana slumped against a wall, breathing heavily as her head pounded, her feet aching, and her entire body sore. Conjuring all of these flames were starting to take their toll on her, as she sunk to the ground, resting her head on her knees, letting the lance rest next to her. She looked at the lance over her arms as she hugged her arms close, the frigid night air chilling her to the bone. She was dripping with sweat and it was now icy against her skin. She shivered, pondering just how she had gotten the stupid weapon to work, trying to distract herself from the cold. She looked the handle over for a button, a trigger, anything that could have made the weapon work, and was frustrated to find no such thing. She cast the weapon aside in disgust, hugging her arms back close again.

"They called me a 'she-dragon'." She said, looking at her breath as she leaned her head back against the wall. "Could word have spread so fast already?" Someone was responsible for her situation tonight, someone who knew about what she was. Her mind sunk back to that of the Tracker, Quinn, and her angered outburst when Jarvan had not returned. Shyvana knew that humans held animosity towards her, she wasn't exactly a scion of a great legacy or some great herald, merely the daughter of a dragon and a peasant woman.

It hadn't been easy growing up alone with just her father, roaming about the mountains and villages just north of Mogron pass. She had learned to kill just what she needed to survive, no more, no less, and together they had lived a peaceful but lonesome life. Her father had some tomes for her to study in her free time, and he had taught her much about the history of Valoran and it's wars, but deep down, Shyvana felt a baser urge calling to her. She wanted to fight, she wanted to make her own place in the world, but looking back now, over most of the last month, so much had transpired. She had felt all manner of emotion, from love to hatred. But above all else, she had felt loss and pain. Loss of her father and then Jarvan... both had been devastating. She shivered and got to her feet, picking the lance up and holding it close to her side.

"Sorry..." She spoke softly. She wanted to hate Jarvan, she wished she could stay mad at him, but deep inside she knew she couldn't. She smiled sadly, thinking back, his soft touch and nature, despite the fact he was careful to keep distant from almost everyone around him. He had let her in, and she had seen something beautiful there, a caring heart, aching over the loss of his men but also fighting to find himself.

"What a fool I must be..." she said softly, "To fall for such a fool..." She let her head hang back, staring at the clouds as they rolled over the moon. "But I would do it all over again if I could." She whispered to herself, holding the lance close, her hand upon the pin she wore on her neck. She nodded to herself, smile at the good memories, but trying to not stray from the bad.

"To Demacia." She said quietly. "I will head to Demacia and carry on his wishes." Shyvana's thoughts strayed to those who had taken her father and Jarvan from her. She clenched her fist, frowning at the thought of them going forth without retribution.

"Going somewhere?" The voice was a deep rumble, more of a beast's growl than that of a human. Shyvana ducked and dove to the side, the clawed swipe cutting through the hem of her cloak as she jumped away, her boots sliding on the surface of the cobblestone.

"W-who are you!" Shyvana demanded, raising the lance to point it at the hulking figure, as it rose up out of the shadows.

"Your worst nightmare!" It barked, laughing maniacally. Shyvana growled back at him, sinking into a low fighting stance, holding the lance directly pointed at the beasts throat.

"Leave me be!" She shouted, stepping forward as menacingly as possible. "My quarrel is not with you!"

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot..." The voice said with a gruff chuckle. "Surely there is something that makes you special? Or are you just a little girl with a temper?"

"Bite me!" Shyvana said, letting her anger contort her expression. Her horns crept forth from her skull, her as scales began to show on her skin, her teeth elongating into fangs as she reared her head back. She inhaled deeply, blowing out a wall of flame at the creature, not willing to play his games.

"Only if I must." He stepped away from the wall of flames with a wild grin, tossing his cloak up into the air to shield himself, letting the flames consume the garment as he ducked away. He skidded to a halt on two legs and an arm, his other arm raised back to balance himself. "Half dragon?" He grinned, bareing long yellow fangs of his own, drool dripping from his long snout. Dark fur covered his entire body, powerful muscles causing the fur to ripple as he stood on his hind legs. Golden claws covered his hands, massive sharpened blades tipping each finger. The armor extended up his arms and ended in decorative pauldrons, each sporting three vicious looking spikes. He had loose armor that he wore across his chest, and a gold decorated loincloth that wrapped about his waist. A massive tail swung back and forth behind him, bright red eyes glowing brightly against the darkness of the night.

"And you. A wolf?" Shyvana said, stepping nervously back.

"You can call we Warwick." He said, licking his chops. "Be forewarned... my bite won't be love nips, little girl." He grinned wildly again, revealing his huge array of spiked teeth. "You might just lose an arm!" He roared as he launched himself forward, lashing out at Shyvana. His claws struck the lance and sent it flying from her grasp, ripping it away. He swiped with his left hand looking to gash her throat, but Shyvana had retreated just outside his reach.

"What do you want with me!" Shyvana shouted, raising her hands up defensively.

"I may not have business with you..." He said, pawing at the ground with one clawed hand, a wild look in his eye as the plated claws cut deep grooves in the cobblestones. "Rather, you ARE my business!" He lunged again, trying to maul her with his claws. Shyvana stumbled backwards, trying to dodge his strike, tumbling over the edge of a culvert splashing down into one of the tributaries that led to the river that flowed through the city. Shyvana gasped for breath, the water just deep enough that her toes brushed the bottom. She splashed about, doing her best to stay afloat, the heavy armor dragging her down, the current drawing her further down the canal. Warwick dropped to the ground beside the narrow waterway.

"Surely you can swim..." He said with a malicious grin. Shyvana disappeared beneath the surface, bubbles blowing out of her mouth as she struggled with the leather straps, trying to rip them off. She surfaced for just a bare second, finally ripping the heavy chest plate off. She kicked the grieves off as well, doing her best to stay afloat. She bobbed to the surface, treading water roughly as she dipped below yet again. Warwick waited for her to surface, but when the bubbles stopped, he frowned.

"Of all the stupid luck..." He grumbled, scratching behind his ear with a claw, shaking his head.

Warwick sighed, running towards her along the river, diving into the water and paddling along, ducking under the water. He grabbed her armored grieve in his mouth, pulling her out of the water. He scrambled onto the walkway, pulling her out of the water by her leg. The dragoness was drenched, water running off her as Warwick sighed, shaking her by her leg. She coughed a few times, water spewing from her throat, the stream of blood on her brow dripping yet again. Warwick sighed again. He shook the water from his coat, grumbling.

"What a... disappointment." He growled, tossing Shyvana against the wall like a ragdoll. She struck hard, collapsing to the ground, out cold. "I was expecting more of a fight from his one." He frowned as he looked over her, the scales and horns not gone, only a sopping wet girl remaining. Warwick tossed her over his shoulder and shrugged, leaping up from the culvert to the street. He looked cautiously along the street, waiting a few moments for a reaction, but when nothing came, he pulled himself over the edge. He paused, and picked up the lance that the girl had carried. He tossed that over his shoulder as well. He looked about, and finding a cart pushed up against a wall, he sprinted forth, both burdens weighing on him as he vaulted the cart and then the wall. He leapt forward onto the roof of the house, looking out of the city. Off in the distance, fires raged and the sound of a frenzy brewed.

"What a hell of a night." Warwick growled, taking off towards The Pit.

* * *

Darius watched the city toss and turn through the night, letting it whip itself up into a frenzy, many men and women furious over the upset from the day before, many still looking for any reason to riot. Part of the city were on fire, and the guard was out in full force now trying to control what was a full on battle in the streets. Reports had slowly been filing in about casualties, no deaths yet to really worry about. Some men had been beaten within a few inches of their lives, and a few shops pillaged, but that was the worst of it. Noxians were a hearty people used to fighting, but they were also a blood thirsty populace. They would only calm if forced to by the guard or if they wore themselves out.

Darius didn't want to start a war with his own people, so he had his guardsman on containment orders, trying to keep the rioting from spreading too far. They had done well enough, but the jail cells would be full by morning. He grimaced. The coin earned through bail would only serve to line the pockets of the many aristocrats and the black hole that was Noxian politics.

Boram Darkwill ruled the city as Grand General with an even fist, fair to judge but also swift with retribution. Darius had no quarrel with the fat general, rather his son was the problematic one. Keiran had a fondness for fighting and screwing, two things that could get one into trouble if you weren't careful. On multiple occasions he had slept with the wrong lady, and ended up on the wrong side of another Noxian general or political official. He was deceptively good with his sword though, Darius had to give him that. He was a famed duelist, and what situations his fathers didn't pay for him to get out of, Kieran could usually duel or fight his way free. Darius had a grudging respect for him, but he also thought he was a sloven pig that did nothing but line his pockets by reaping the people's hard work.

Darius' pondering was interrupted by movement below his perch on the edge of the grandstands. He watched with interest as a trade began below, recognizing the manhunter, Warwick from his silhouette alone. The wolfman stood out in a crowd, you know, with the fur and pointed ears and all.

Darius frowned, watching the manhunter offload his cargo of a human girl and a long weapon. Darius blinked several times, trying to get a better view of the girl, sighing when he recognized the girl.

"So that's what this is all about." He groaned, watching as his younger brother removed his hood, a few men emerging from the archways of the building to carry her away. One man struggled with the lance for a few moments, before finally another came to help him. Darius frowned, watching the men struggle with the lance. He remembered the half-beast girl as strong, but surely the lance she carried with ease couldn't be that heavy. He grunted, hauling himself to his feet. Swain had been right to expect trouble with Draven, there almost always was. Darius sighed, running a hand through his hair, cracking his neck. He mounted the wall, descending down towards the walkway below and from there, into the depths of The Pit.

"Orders sir?" One of his lieutenants said, snapping off a salute as he fell into step with him.

"Gather your men, Lieutenant." Darius said, sighing. "And fetch a doctor."

* * *

"Shackle her to the table." Draven said with a grin. He rolled his neck, grinning as he did, looking forward to the night ahead. It had cost him quiet a bit, but Warwick as the best manhunter in all of Noxus. He hadn't budged on the price though, and Draven had argued about it. Warwick had been adamant though, and as he had said, he turned the girl over and the lance as well.

He watched with pleasure as two men brought her in, laying her out on the table, shackling her to the table legs with heavy iron manacles. Draven rubbed his hands together, raising his hand back and striking her across the face. At the end of the room, a mag sat with his tome, chanting an incantation.

"She won't be able to use her magic." The mage said, as a the air around them popped and fizzled.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Draven asked, looking around the room. "I thought there would be a bubble..."

"Null sphere silences all spell casts except the original caster." The mage said shrugging. "She's be helpless."

"Wake up!" Draven shouted, causing the girl to open her eyes with a start. She looked about, her hands jerking against the manacles, the binding clanking as she did. She opened her mouth to yell, but Draven struck fast, snapping her head about. "Ah ah ah!" Draven said, wagging his finger in front of her face. "Let's just admire me for a second." He gestured to the deep gash on one side of his face, and the black eye he still sported. "You managed to do a real number to my face... But you know what? Just watch and learn... I'll show you to really serve up pain." He raised his hand back and brought it down hard across her face again, snapping her neck about.

She grunted, recoiling, her body clenching up as Draven cackled.

"That's right, girl, it feel good doesn't it." He said with a wild smile. "All the pain I felt.. all the humiliation I suffered because of what you did... Draven is going to pay you back a thousand fold." He walked about the table, admiring her body for a few moments, running his hand up and down her leg, a sickening smile on his face. He finally reached the head of the table, He drew one of his axes from hi s back, spinning it about, slamming it down mere inches from Shyvana's ear, causing her to jerk against he chains again.

"You will suffer my fury, I swear it!" Shyvana growled as she backed away from the ax.

"That's good, I like fight in my women." He waved a man over. "Don't worry, we're going to have plenty of time to break you in. Hold her head." Two men passed a leather strap over her head, holding her down so she couldn't turn her head. Draven laid a cloth over her face and chuckled as he brought out a bucket of water. "Take a deep breath..."

Shyvana did just that, breathing in deeply as her horns extended from her head, the scales appearing on her face and neck, She turned her head, blowing a cloud of flames out at one of the men holding her down, his hands dropping the strap they were using to hold her down as she jerked at eh manacles, blood beginning to drip down her arm as she struggled, roaring and hissing angrily. Draven met her gaze, staring into the reptilian eyes that swirled with rage and fire.

"I thought you said she wouldn't be able to use her magic?" Draven shouted, as one of his men writhed on the ground, clutching his face, the flames having burned his face and throat.

"She shouldn't have been able to!" The mage said, flipping through his tome. Draven growled in anger, watching his subordinate die on the ground, clutching at his throat. He looked back at the mage in disgust.

"What the hell happened?" Draven snapped.

"You just don't get it, do you." A voice growled from the doorway. Darius crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not Dragon magic, you fool." Darius growled, nodding towards where she was bound to the table. She watched silently, defiance in her eyes. "She's half dragon."

"I... She..." Draven met her gaze again, taking an uneasy step back. "You mean..."

"And surely you weren't planning on torturing the Generals' plaything, especially before a big fight?" Darius said from the doorway. Draven felt ice shoot through his veins as he turned, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Brother!" He said, smiling still, trying to laugh it off. "Of course not!" Draven tried to shrug innocently, but he was unable to hide it from his brother.

"While I admire your... _desire _for unmatched power, I do not tolerate cowardice." Darius growled, waving his men forward. "Arrest these men and see to it that my brother is escorted home." He raised the ax up and brought it down, cutting the chains on Shyvana's Manacles. She cowered back, growling, sinking low into a defensive stance. He turned to his lieutenant, scowling as his brother as he was escorted out of the room.

"Get the doc up here and have him look her over." Darius said, frowning at the instruments of torture that his brother had laid out for her. Long spikes, pliers, several buckets of water to water-board her with, a stove to heat a brand with, the works. Darius was not above using torture to further his means, but something like this... He spat against the wall, watching as Shyvana eyed him, both anger and fear in her eyes.

"Get her somewhere safe, for both her and the guards." Darius said shaking his head. "I need to speak with General Swain on this matter."

"Yes, sir." His lieutenant said, eying the dragoness with unease.

* * *

"I told you to prevent something like this from happening." Swain said, irritation swirling in hi s voice. Darius stood rigidly at attention in Swain's study, a roaring fire illuminating the dark room, musty books filling rows of bookshelves, papers piled high atop a desk. There was a map of Valoran against one wall, and an enlarged map of Noxus hung next to it, red arrows and crosses placed across points of interest. Darius recognized a few of them, other were foreign even to him. Beatrice was perched atop a roost near swain's plush, red velvet chair, her beak tucked under one wing, her sic eyes closed. Darius returned his gaze to a section of blank wall directly ahead, just above eye level.

"My brother went to some rather... extreme measures to ensure he wasn't directly connected to her capture." Darius said, rigidly. "I only happened to witness the hand off and was able to interfere before too much happened."

"I see..." Swain said, eying him suspiciously. "At ease, captain. You have no need of such decorum in my personal quarters." Swain said, massaging the bridge of his nose. "No doubt we have lost the ability to recruit her strength to our cause." He mused. "It'll be a pity to have her put down if she refuses to fight then... but this was not an unforeseen outcome."

"Apologies, general." Darius said calmly. "Perhaps..."

"An idea?" Swain said, raising one thin eyebrow up with interest. "Please, speak your mind captain, you rarely speak your mind."

Darius paused, his mind drifting back to the fact that the half-dragon was the one who had best he and his men, not the prisoner that was being detained in the dungeons of high-command. Darius thought better of it though, grimacing.

"It's nothing, general." Darius said waving his hand dismissively. "Just the notion of letting her face off against my brother if she succeeds tomorrow..." Darius grinned. "it might teach him some humility." Swain chuckled, nodding.

"If she does, I'm sure it will prove to be quiet the fight." He nodded. "See to it that nothing else disturbs this fight. I want Boram Darkwill's attention elsewhere tomorrow. And preferably his son as well." Swain breathed in the steam rising from a cup of tea.

"Any word on Marcus Du Couteau's daughter?" Swain said, watching the fire, as he sipped his tea.

"She returned about a week ago, with minor injuries." Darius said, remembering a report. "She evaded my scouts for most of her journey, only letting them find her again after she reentered the city."

"And has she found any word on her father's disappearance?" Swain said quietly, his eyes taking a dark sheen to them.

"Doubtful, sir." Darius said, frowning. He had a sense of respect for Katarina Du Couteau, even if they didn't see eye to eye. She was close to royalty among the Noxian elite, and her father had been in deep with Boram Darkwill.

"See that it stays that way." Swain said, frowning. "You are dismissed, captain."

"As you wish, general." Darius said, bowing, backing away, he pulled the doors shut behind him as he left Swain's study, sighing as he did. The night was young and already he had plenty of work to do.


	20. Chapter 20: Deathmatch

"In here." The guard said, shoving Jarvan through the doorway. "Take your pick, but no funny business." The guard said, locking the steal cage behind Jarvan. Jarvan sighed as she stepped further into the armorers cage, looking for a weapon that fit his style. He unconsciously rubbed his head where the bastard had kicked him, frowning. The collection they had made available was quite impressive, arms and armor strewn about like it was nothing. Jarvan picked up a crossbow and looked at it, turning it upside down and examining the trigger mechanism before setting it back down. He moved past the assortment of bows and crossbows, ranged weaponry not really his forte. He found plenty of blades of all lengths, from knives and daggers, to short swords, to full wasters, nearly as long as he was tall. He hefted one of the swords, the weight top heavy in his hands. He paused, just long enough to pick out several knives and a short sword though.

The short blade he chose came in a triangular sheath, the long blade hooked for most of the actually blade's length, to give it's swing more cutting power. Jarvan had seen them used before, they were good for beheading men and cutting through jungle terrain. He strapped the sheath to the back of his waist, the heavy leather belt he had been given cinched tight around his waist. Jarvan also looked about for armor, but couldn't find any that fit well enough and would be light enough to fight with.

He dug through the armor, unable to find any that he really cared for and ended up cannibalizing a brigandine, removing some of the plates that would have covered his abdomen. He ended up with a chest piece that covered three-quarters of his chest, a large central plate coming up to just below his chest, a larger plate that covered the left side of his chest, and a pair of plates that wrapped over his shoulders and up covered his neck along both sides. There was a back plate as well that covered most of the scar on his back. The plates were held in place with heavy leather straps that ran under his right arm. He had also cannibalized the left arm of a suit of armor, a heavy gauntlet, spaulder, cowter and vambrace, encasing his entire left arm in metal. It would limit his motion with that side of his body, but he attacked with his right arm and needed to keep his range of motion free. He needed some armor to protect himself with though. He took a few other pieces here and there, assembling a makeshift set of gladiators armor at last, adding Faulds and Greaves to serve as the bare minimum on his lower body.

He continued to browse, picking out a collection of throwing knives in a wide, flat sheath. He piddled about getting them into position over his shoulder, but was satisfied when he could reach up over his shoulder with his right hand and grab a knife to throw. He also found a lance similar in weight and size to his own lance. It had a longer shaft and a shorter head then his old lance, but the head was double sided and bladed, and was solid enough, if a bit short.

Jarvan donned a Barbute, it's T shaped visor menacing, but easy to see out of and keep his spacial awareness. The helmet was a bit loose, but if Jarvan lost it, he figured he'd have more trouble than just a lost helmet. He was looking around, satisfied with his finds until he saw something sitting off to the side, buried behind a pile of wooden and steel bucklers. Shaped from solid steel, there was a buckler and shield set shaped like a dragon's head. The shield wasn't all that large, no longer that his thigh and now much wider, but it had horns and fangs. It was heavy, but the protection it offered would easily make it worth it. Jarvan grinned as he strapped the Shield onto his arm, flexing his left hand around the guard. The buckler fit snugly on his right arm, and when he strapped it on, he still had a fairly free range of motion for his lance.

Satisfied with his arms and armor, Jarvan sat down, the armor heavy but reassuring. He had felt bare without his armor before, and he'd rather go into a fight with extra equipment and be able to discard it then look back and need it in hindsight. He sighed, running a hand along the shield, it's dragon-like shape reminiscent of Shyvana's dragon form, the shape remarkably similar. He grinned slightly, shaking his head wondering exactly what had happened to Shyvana. With any luck, She and the others, Forsythe, Quinn and Isaacs, would all be returning to Demacia. He closed his eyes as he leaned back on the bench, waiting for the guard, his mind wandering to figure out exactly how he was going to escape.

* * *

Shyvana shot the guards a nasty look as they escorted her into the arena, the platform rising up into the open arena, the familiar roar of the crowd echoing around her. She could hear it, she could feel it, but it almost seemed as if it wasn't there, her mind wandering. She dreaded the thought of getting stuck here in Noxus, fighting for the entrainment of thousands of weaklings. She had many desires of her own, and despite what little headway she had made in her search for the Red-haired witch and Talon, she was confident she would find them soon enough. She shrugged in the foreign armor, the replacements given to her by the guards for her to make do with.

She raised Jarvan's lance above her head, the crowd roaring it's approval as she did so, their bloodlust insatiable. Shyvana let the lance rest on her shoulder, her hood up and the scarf wrapped around her face. It brought much less trouble when didn't stop her because of fangs or the color of her hair, and she had enough trouble as it was. She frowned underneath the scarf and hood, tossing back the cloak. She had grown accustomed to the Noxian armor, but this set didn't seem to fit all that well, and at times she wondered if the lance was a good weapon for herself. It mostly just impeded her strikes, but it did give her leverage and good reach for fights, which was invaluable.

She soured as the crowd booed her competitor, the man rising up out of the ground on the opposing platform. He had a lance at his feet, the weapon laid on the ground. He was escorted by four guards, each with a long pole that was attached to a ring on a brace that was wrapped around his neck. They removed the poles, backing away slowly, moving a distance away before they lined one of the many doorways that led from the arena, the heavy steel and wood doors barred from the inside. They held their poles like spears, heavy swords hanging on their belts.

The man stood, shaking his head, lifting the spear from the ground. He spun the weapon about in his free hand, planting the blade in the dirt as he adjusted the plates he wore on his forearms.

"Trying to mock me, eh?" Shyvana said, grinning as she eyed the dragon's head shield he wore on his left arm. He settled into a familiar fighting stance, lowering himself to the ground as he did, the tip of his lance held back and low to the ground, away from his body, the shaft across his back. He kept the dragon's face shield up, across the front of his body in a defensive stance. Shyvana smirked, her eyes glowing at the taunts, as she unsheathed Jarvan's lance. She watched with mock satisfaction as her opponent let his guard fall just a bit when she flourished the weapon, spinning it and planting it as he had, albeit slightly less gracefully.

"Welcome to The Pit!" the announcer roared from the box, high above the arena. The crowd roared its approval, the special event having drawn out most of the city, the grand stands left with standing room only. The crowd roared, shaking the ground beneath her feet, Shyvana pumping her arms above her head just enough to elicit a response.

"Today, we have a special execution, carried out by the newest member of the Noxian Military, Dragon-hide!" Shyvana's eye twitched at the name, her shoulders drooping.

"Really?" She said, sighing. "Since when was I a member of the Noxian military?" She cracked her fingers, flexing her fists and she pulled Jarvan's lance from the ground, holding it before her with both hands. She smirked. "No matter. I'll be done with this fool and get the hell out of here. I shall dance on their ashes if necessary."

"Let the battle begin!" The announcer shouted, the crowd exploding as her opponent charged. He came in low, leaning into his charge, his weapon etching marks in the ground as he sprinted at her. He was fast, much faster than she would have thought, his weapon coming up and across his body, led by the shield. Shyvana tried to raised the Lance to block the attack, but he batted the lance away with the shield, the lance striking her in the side. He had struck with the blunt side of the weapon though, the blow only surprising and stinging Shyvana.

She growled as she rolled way from most of the blow, holding her side as she came out on all fours, one hand managing to hold onto the Lance. Her opponent stood over her, his weapon pointed at her neck, just barely touching the scarf that covered most of her face. Shade hid her eyes, but she couldn't see his face, the reflection of the sun gleaming off his helmet, blinding her and silhouetting his face.

"Where did you get that weapon?" He roared.

Shyvana ignored him, sweeping her foot around and striking upwards and out, her foot striking the shield he raised in defense. She twirled on her hands, spinning around, using her waist as the axis as she struck under the shield with the other foot, planting it just below the armored plat the covered the left side of his chest. He exhaled sharply as the attack struck, sending him crashing to the side. He collapsed onto the ground, heaving as he did.

"Eye for an eye." Shyvana roared, sprinting at him, spinning the lance over her head. He was just getting to his knees as Shyvana used the lance to vault herself into the air, driving the blade down towards him. He tossed himself out of the way, rolling through the dirt, one of the plates on his armor snapping loose. The armor on his chest fell away, revealing an array of scars. Shyvana dove at him again as he shook the armor off, tossing it at her as he rolled away. She tangled with the armor plates and crashed to the ground, tossing the plates away, as he came up, the lance on the ground as he reached over his shoulder, his arms snapping straight out, a knife spinning through the air directly at Shyvana's face.

She raised the lance just in time to knock it aside, the blade still leaving a shallow gash on her face, cutting through her hood as she tried it dodge the weapon. It ripped her hood back, revealing her red hair and dragon's slit eyes as she swept the lance back, flames swirling around her hands as she sprinted, flames swirling around her feet as she brandished the lance like a club. She struck out in a wide arc, the man leaving his guard completely open, the lance striking him on the shoulder, slicing through the iron plating, and landing shallowly in his arm. He stood shakily on his feet as he backed away, blood dripping down his arm. Shyvana ripped the lance from his plating, his legs shaking as he stumbled.

"Wait!" He shouted, raising his arm submissively, but Shyvana had already raised the lance back, striking again. He tugged his shoulder up, trying to put the shield between him and the lance, but the weapon just cracked off the plating on his arm again, only leaving a dent this time. He jerked his shoulder up, tossing the shield into the air, blocking her third strike, but Shyvana roared, spinning around, twirling on her toes, swinging the lance around in another wide arc.

"SHYVANA!" She froze, but the weapon was already flying through the air. The lance struck him upside the head, knocking him through the air, spinning him about, dumping him on the dirt, where he sat unmoving. Shyvana blinked, pulling the scarf down, looking at the body. She felt tears well in her eyes, as she saw a familiar scar that covered most of his back, the burns from a dragon's flames. Shyvana shrunk to her knees next to the man, her hand hovering over her mouth, the lance falling from her hand, landing in the dust.

"How..." She breathed, the roar of the crowd now a distant rumble, both anger and confusion echoing from the stands. Shyvana reached out barely touching him, his back rising and falling barely as Guards swarmed into the arena. She rolled him over, his arm bleeding profusely. He groaned, as Shyvana pulled the helmet from his head, his black hair spilling onto the ground around him. She brushed the hair from his face, leaning over him, a worried look on her face as tears rolled down her face, dripping onto Jarvan. "How are you alive?" She breathed, looking over him. "How... how is this possible?"

"Damnit that hurt..." Jarvan groaned, his eyes fluttering open, a bashful grin on his face as Shyvana's lip quivered.

"I thought you were dead!" She cried, her face screwed up as she broke down, tears pouring down her face. She fell on Jarvan's chest tears pouring down her face as she struck him softly on the shoulder as sobs wracked her body. "You jerk!"

"Sorry." Jarvan said softly, letting his head fall back.

"...Jerk." She said, sniffing sadly.

"Sorry." Jarvan said again, closing his eyes.

"I missed you... so much..." Shyvana said, her voice small as she screwed her face up, trying not to let any more tears fall. Jarvan felt several strike his cheek, as she hovered over him, looking down as him with those large, magenta orbs.

"And I, you..." Jarvan said quietly, reaching up with his good hand to touch her face, wiping a tear away with a dusty hand. He grinned as it left a dirty streak across her face. Shyvana sniffed as she tried not to laugh, a tear still running down her cheek, the spark in her eye dancing about happily.

"How did you get here?" She asked, still hanging over him, a mix of disbelief and giddiness in her voice.

"It's a tale for another day..." He said, smiling and sighing contently, letting his hand rest upon her arm, just the connection he felt from the gesture more than enough to cause his heart to soar. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, opening them again as guards approached, weapons pointed towards Jarvan and Shyvana as she wiped her face of the tears. "We have company." Jarvan growled. Shyvana helped him to his feet, his arm around her neck, the young dragoness helping hold him up. The Guards stood well away, holding spears, poles, lances and all manner or long weapon pointed at them. Jarvan snorted.

"I don't expect that it's me that people are afraid of for once." Jarvan said. Shyvana smirked.

"Can you stand on your own?" She asked looking up at him. Jarvan worked his jaw rubbing the side of his face, raising his left arm slowly, hissing in pain. He glanced at Shyvana who looked pitiful, a mere shadow of the rage she had just been showing. He hoped that she would be able to turn it back on though as guards slowly began to close the gap around them.

"I think so." Jarvan said, wincing, grinning sheepishly. "As good a crutch as you make, I think I'm going to need this arm." He said flexing the fingers on his good arm. He bent over, exhaling hard as he picked up his lance.

"Sorry about that..." She said, examining the gauntlets that Jarvan had carried with him. One had a dent in it, but Shyvana looked satisfied with them as she strapped the larger one onto her right hand flexing her hand around the gauntlet. He strapped the other to her left arms and then raised then up, making the head of a dragon with the armor, grinning as she did it. She flexed her hands around the grips, settling into a fighting stance.

"Those definitely suit you better than me." Jarvan said, grinning.

"So what's the plan?" Shyvana said, pressing her back to Jarvan's.

"Kill a bunch of Noxians, then fly out of here." Jarvan said, raising his lance as a man approached the circle of guards from the outside. They parted for him, closing the gap behind him as he entered. The man had an air of sophistication about him, though Jarvan was surprised that it was discernible underneath alt he grease that coated his hair. He wore a dueling sword on his belt, fancy and gold plated, but effective none the less, the weapon hanging sheathed at his side. He also wore a similarly fashioned dagger across his chest, though the dagger bore a crest on the hilt that Jarvan could only assume was the crest of his House of Noxus. Jarvan raised his lance, putting it between him and the approaching man, his crisp officers uniform starched stiff as a board.

"Greetings, warrior." He said, bowing his head. Even his voice reeked of sophistication. Jarvan would have dismissed the man as a simple salesman, a merchant who wanted to look pretty, if it weren't for his eyes. They were cold and calculating, the eyes of a killer. Jarvan shivered as he locked gaze with the man. "You seem to be quite well... acquainted with our newest champion, here." He said gesturing to Shyvana. She paid him no heed, simply continuing to watch the Guards for any sudden movements.

"I am..." Jarvan said, slowly beginning to turn as the man began to pace just outside of range, his steps slow and metered. "She is my partner, what of it?" Shyvana felt her heartstrings tug as she listened to his voice. It had seemed like an eternity since she heard it, and she had to fight to stay focused.

"How very sentimental..." He mused, nodding slowly.

"We got separated on our way here." Jarvan said, his voice even. "I greatly appreciate you bringing her to me, It made my search much easier."

"Oh, I'm glad you think so." He chuckled politely. "Pardon me, but I was under the assumption that you were a prisoner."

"And I was under the assumption that I was fighting a Noxian Gladiator." Jarvan said, mirroring the officer's cheekiness. "Not a Demacian Warrior." Jarvan noticed the subtle change in the officers stance. His smile was much more strained, his gloved hand now stretched tight over a fist that quaked atop his saber. "We all make improper assumptions some time."

"Then it would seem I have a problem." He mused, even his voice becoming strained, stroking his goatee with one hand, the other resting atop his saber. "Today, there was supposed to be an execution..." He said, sliding the saber from his sheath, eying the sparkling blade. Jarvan could smell the stench of blood upon the blade from where he stood, even in the blood soaked arena. The smell was fresh and steely, sharp to the nose. "And I find... that instead of a prisoner I know nothing about being executed..." He paused, waving the blade through the air lazily, "That so far, the only person who has had to die was one of the guards who so haplessly failed to inform me of the PREDISPOSITION YOU TWO SHARED." He roared, his face contorting in rage. "Explain to me, how exactly it is that one of you is not lying gutted on the floor?"

"I'd rather not." Jarvan said, a cheeky grin on his face as he raised his lance horizontally in front of him, his middle finger extended.

"Y-y-you!" The man stammered. The guards parted behind him once more, letting a familiar face through again. Jarvan went rigid.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana whispered, worried about his sudden change. She could feel how he had jerked, his entire body now frozen solid, not even breathing.

"Enough of these games, Darkwill." Swain muttered, waving the brash younger man aside. "I knew this one had traveling companions, but I would have never guessed that he would have been traveling in the company of a filthy half-beast." Swain chuckled, his raven screeching as it ruffled its feathers.

"I have no need of more of your treachery and games, Swain." Darkwill muttered. "I demand these impudent fools be executed at once."

"You fail to see the bigger picture." Swain said, tapping his finger tips along his cane, his red eyes flashing something dangerous at his younger counterpart. "You see, this young gentleman is none other than Crown Prince Jarvan IV, heir to the Lightshield Dynasty and the Demacian Throne." Darkwill's eyes expanded in shock.

"How... where..." He sputtered, turning back to Swain as Jarvan watched the exchange silently. Shyvana listened on as well, the memory that Jarvan was very much the crown prince coming as a bit of a shock to her as well. She knew he had been called prince, but he had never spoken at length of his heritage.

"It is of little importance, but it seems as though we have a problem." Swain grinned cruelly setting his eyes back upon Jarvan. "I can't deny involvement any longer. If your little half-blood friend had been so polite as to make sure you had died, things would have been easier to deal with after we had executed her, but alas, it seems we might need something more devious." Swain said, grinning.

"By the blood of my father..." Shyvana muttered through gritted teeth. "I will end them..." She stepped away from Jarvan, fire swirling about her gauntlets as she took a deep breath, horns bursting from her skull with a sickening ripping sound, creating a tunnel of flames between the two gauntlets and blowing a wall of flames out towards the ground. She spun, spraying a wall of flames that exploded around them, some of it engulfing the guards, many of them caught by surprise, dying slowly as the immense heat and flames burned them alive. She turned towards Swain who looked surprised as Shyvana reared her head back, howling in rage as she hunched over, her arms exploding outwards, a tail springing from her back, her nose elongating into a snout. She roared as the armor and fabric she wore fell away, the blue armored skin of a full dragon rising up from the ground.

The crowd, which had been jeering and booing the guards and the event up until now, started to scream and panic, many fearing they would be burned alive of eaten by the dragon. Shyvana sprayed a mostly empty section of the stadium with a column of fire, black smoke and flames reaching to the sky as she sewed panic around the coliseum.

She turned, batting away the man who had been referred to as 'Darkwill' as he ran forth and tried to plant his blade in Shyvana's belly. He was knocked back and stunned as he managed to just barely sink the blade in, Shyvana screeching in pain as he did. Shyvana released a gout of flames towards where Swain had stood, but the man was already calmly hobbling away. He paused, looking back over his shoulder, locking stares with Jarvan before a split second before Jarvan turned back towards Darkwill. Jarvan grabbed him by his collar, his sword now well out of his grasp, and tossed him away. Held his lance under the crook of his bad arm, and ripped the blade free of Shyvana's chest, tossing it at the man where he still sat stunned in the dirt. It landed between his legs, the hilt waggling as it stuck, blade down mere inches away from her manhood.

"Hop on!" Shyvana roared, her voice rumbling as she swiped her tail out knocking aside guards who were trying to make their way through the flames to Darkwill.

Jarvan grabbed her neck and she tossed him up, holding onto his lance with his good hand, wrapping it around her neck. She roared, tossing her head back and forth before running, spreading her wings and leaping towards the grandstands. She couldn't do much more than glide, despite the powerful jump, Jarvan's weight too much for her to carry. She clawed at the grandstand wall, latching on as Jarvan held on for dear life, Shyvana sprinting up the grandstands five rows at a time. She was nearing the edge, only gaining speed.

"Hold on!" Shyvana said, her voice rumbling as she thundered up the Grandstands, a swath of destruction left in her wake.

"Wait... wait... WAIT!" Jarvan shouted, gripping his legs around her body, the powerful muscles propelling her up through the air. Shyvana spread her wings, as they hung in the air, Jarvan opening his eyes just long enough to look out over the city. If he hadn't been running for his life, in Noxus, and Shyvana hadn't been a dragon, the view would have been romantic, but that all changed when they slowly started to fall.

"The landing might be a bit rough..." Shyvana said, her voice strained as she struggled to stay in her dragon form. The ground was slowly coming up to meet them, rapidly getting closer and closer as they crashed down towards the ground. They crashed down across the roof of a large building, Shyvana scampering for grip and balance, trying to keep the crash at least life saving. Her legs crushed wooden beams and roofing tiles as if they were nothing. She was only able to kick off of the building, crashing onto another roof and then crashing straight through it, leaving a clean swath straight through the top of the building. She struggled to slow herself and Jarvan as the careened towards a chimney, the tall brick structure rising up in front of them. She crashed into it, still flying at great speed, destroying the chimney and tumbling up across the next roof. They were propelled into the air once more, but this time, Jarvan felt Shyvana shrinking underneath him, the impact with the Chimney having knocked her out, the exertion it taking to remain in the dragon form finally taking its toll as she reverted to her human form, the frail body tumbling with him as he fell through the air.

Jarvan watched in slow motion as they headed down towards a pool of water, twisting about mid air, holding Shyvana close to him as the pool came up to meet them, summoning the Lightshield at the last second to cushion their fall. The bright yellow light encircled them as they crashed down into the fountain like a cannon ball, a pillar of water reaching to the sky as they struck.


	21. Chapter 21: Reunion

Jarvan blinked the pain away from his eyes as he spluttered, water in his mouth, leaning over and coughing, clearing water from his throat. There was a weight on his chest as if he had been struck with a hammer, and his vision was blurry and red around the edges. He blinked his eyes more, everything blurry form the water, frantically looking for Shyvana. He breathed a short sigh of relief, realizing the weight on his chest was actually Shyvana and the red in his vision was her soaked hair. He sat up carefully, rolling her into his lap. She was laid out across his lap, naked and bruised, blood dripping from a gash on her chest, but alive, her chest rising and falling slowly. Jarvan sat up, holding Shyvana close as he looked about, blinking the darkness from his eyes, his body making every effort to tell him about what that hurt... which at the moment was everything.

_Pain is good though, that means everything is intact and attached._ Jarvan paused as he held Shyvana over the pool of water, still dripping from their crash landing.

They had landed in a long pool of water, a fountain babbling at one end, the other emptying out into a small stream that ran around an ornate garden. Jarvan shuddered in the cool water, looking about. The garden seemed to be closed in, only the trees and flowers to keep him company as he slogged his way out of the pool, holding Shyvana in his arms. She was still out cold as he stepped out of the pool, moving towards a bed of grass where he collapsed, breathing deeply, doing his best to calm his racing heart. He lay back on the ground as shouts and cries came from across a wall several hundred feet distant of him, where men and women seemed to already have heard news of the dragon's descent across the city.

"I was wondering what was causing all that ruckus." A voice purred from somewhere near by. "When I heard you had been captured by that dimwit captain... well needless to say, I was surprised."

Katarina crossed her arms as she sat on the branch of a tree, an impressed smirk on her face as she looked down at Jarvan. She leaned backwards, letting her momentum carry her backwards around the branch, doing a simple flip as she fell to the ground. She landed with her hands held away from her body, steadying her descent. She stepped forward, eying the impressive wound and broken armor on Jarvan's arm, and then turning to the naked Shyvana, who Jarvan had lain upon the grass, on her side, her shoulders rising and falling steadily.

"Oh great." Jarvan said, running his good hand over his face. He lay back on the grass, sighing heavily. "More trouble." Katarina hid a chuckle behind her hand, smiling coyly at the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelmed him. She stood over him, her fists posted upon her hips looking out over the garden.

"The least you could have done is not tear up my Father's favorite tree." Katarina said dejectedly, shaking her head. Jarvan looked over his shoulder back towards the walls. A pink leaved cherry tree sat split down the middle, half of it on the ground and the other half of it sitting at an awkward angle.

"What are you going to do?" Jarvan said, laying his arm across his face. "Have us arrested again?"

"Not hardly." She said, an exasperated smile crossing her face. She shook her head. "Lets get her inside and bandage your wounds first though."

Jarvan paused, sitting up with a grunt of exertion, his side now beginning to show a bruise where Shyvana had struck him with his own lance. The red-haired Noxian pulled her jacket off, draping it around Shyvana's shoulders, levering the wounded Dragoness up into a sitting position. Jarvan watched wearily for a blade to appear in her hand, but Katarina helped the prince to his feet and then helped him lift her up onto his good shoulder.

"Why are you helping us?" Jarvan asked as she beckoned for him to follow, headed back towards the manor. He hadn't moved a step, his gaze locked on Katarina.

"Don't think this won't come free, Demacian." She said, a cat like smile on her face. "But unless you want to turned over the the guards or chased around the city until you're dead... I would come on." She gestured for him to follow.

"Just what is it you want?" Jarvan said, narrowing his gaze, still holding his ground.

"Truthful answers and at very least an explanation as to why you're lying in my Garden with a naked girl next to you."

"Fair enough." Jarvan said, following behind her as she turned and shrugged, headed back towards the massive manor that sat at the center of the gardens. "Ask away."

"All in due time, prince." Katarina purred, glancing over her shoulder with a grin. "Lets get the princess taken care of first."

Jarvan frowned but nodded, following behind her.

* * *

Shyvana awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly, retching as pain overwhelmed her chest, causing her to squeal and clench her teeth. As the pain subsided, she vaguely became aware of the new settings she found herself amid. Gone were the dirty stone walls of the pit, and the wooden planks of the Drunken Dagger. She looked around, the subtle lavenders, purples and reds of the plushly finished room coming as a bit of a shock to her. She had never seen such opulence in decoration of a room, and the garishly bright colors made her stomach queasy. She breathed deeply, as she looked around, the lack of Jarvan's presence enough to cause her adrenaline to spike.

"Good, It seems you're awake." A deep bass rumbled from across the room. Shyvana felt ice in her stomach as Talon stepped from the shadows, a neutral look on his face. She read a passive stance in his body language and the lack of his blade did nothing to settle her stomach. She knew he would inevitably be armed, even if she couldn't see the weapon on his person. She growled, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

"You!" Shyvana hissed raising a hand back and then wincing as she did, the wound on her chest screaming in pain again. She shrunk back, trying to hide her pain, but Talon grinned, shaking his head at her efforts.

"I would advise against any erratic movements." He said, turning away, rubbing his head. "Your wounds will open back up." Shyvana paused, surprised by his actions. He had just turned his back to her, giving her a clear strike. She blinked lamely, her confusion growing.

"What is going on here?" Shyvana said, rubbing her eyes. She blinked a few times just to make sure she wasn't dreaming as he shrugged.

"You know, I was wondering the same damn thing." He growled, sighing as his shoulders slumped. He emptied out a basin of pinkish water, leaving some sopping wet rags, stained with blood, sitting in the bottom. He shook his head, taking the rags and wringing the water out of them, leaving them on the vanity the basin sat upon. He poured the rest of the water into the bucket of water, refilling the basin with clean water from a pitcher. He picked up the bucket and the rags, mumbling as he headed to the door.

"You didn't do this, did you?" Shyvana said, eying him as she brushed hair from her face, tucking a few stray locks behind her ear. He paused at the door way, looking back over his shoulder a cheeky grin on his face.

"Nope, princess." He said, shaking his head. "Your _Prince Charming_ did. Wouldn't even let me near you." She could hear the venom in his voice as he shook his head again. "Feel free to wash yourself up in the meantime." He turned and left unceremoniously, disappearing into the house beyond after closing the doors.

"What in the world..." Shyvana said aloud, her face dropping to her hands, sighing as she did. She carefully got out of bed, sliding out of the silken sheets, looking out of the open window. There a was view of Noxus she hadn't seen before, where beautiful green gardens stretched out towards the city, where smoke and steam rose up like great looming giants against the sky. She could see a long path of destruction that led towards the far wall, most likely from her descent from the upper reaches of the city and her daring escape from the arena. She rubbed her nose unconsciously from where she had struck a weird brick wall thing that had protruded from the ground, not remembering anything after that.

Turning away from the window, she examined the bandages that had been wrapped about her chest, mostly over her left shoulder where she had been stabbed with a puny little sword while in her dragon state. The wound still stung, the bandages a splotchy pink, but it would hopefully heal fast. She worked her arm about carefully, and was glad she had a mostly full range of motion. She turned to the vanity where she set about scrubbing the blood from her face and shoulders, though there was very little of it left. She ran a hand gently over the bandages her thoughts turning to Jarvan.

She almost wanted to hate him for being alive, having put her through so much pain and torment, but deep down inside she could feel a warmth growing, as if she was all warm and fuzzy inside. She cracked a smile, looking at the mirror, her reflection that of a young woman with brilliant magenta eyes, long red hair and a smile that she found almost out of place. She felt odd, the urge to smile overwhelming her as she continued to grin, breaking into a bigger smile. She blushed, glancing away as her thoughts turned to what Jarvan may have thought of her, again overwhelmed with the knowledge that he was alive. She felt giddy, as if she was made of air, twirling around the room, the loose gown that covered her rising up around her, billowing as she spun. As she spun about room, absorbed in her new found happiness, she completely missed the door opening.

"What's go you so happy?" Jarvan asked from the doorway, a smirk on his face. Shyvana froze, her momentum carrying her on slightly further, sending her crashing to the ground in a flustered heap. Shyvana rubbed her rump tenderly, groaning as she hissed in pain.

"I really need to stop wearing dresses." She grumbled under her breath. Jarvan chuckled from the doorway, finally drawing her attention again. She looked up at him, a confused look on his face as she blushed furiously. She immediately felt guilt though, the rush of emotions she felt still swirling about her uncontrollably. Jarvan had one arm in a sling, a bandage wrapping over most of his shoulder where Shyvana had cut through his armor, doing her best to try and separate his arm from the rest of his body.

"I... nothing." She said, shaking her head, her hair tumbling about her loosely. He shrugged, extending his good hand to her, a sparkle in his eye that she hadn't noticed before. She began to reach out but paused, wondering if he would forgive her for the wound she had given him. She was surprised when he clasped her hand and pulled her upwards, dragging her to her feet before she could voice her protest. She felt her face burn, almost certain her face was the same shade of red as her hair, turning away from Jarvan nervously.

"Oh..." Jarvan said awkwardly, left standing there. He wore what looked like simple traveling clothes, though they were slightly too large for him around the waist, and slightly too short in the body. The combination was a bit odd, but he wore a black bodysuit underneath, the leather like material hugging his skin across most of his body, only thrown back around his injured shoulder, which sat bare. Bandages wrapped his arm, a similar pink splotchiness to her own bandages. She absentmindedly touched her chest where she had been stabbed, whimpering when it hurt more than she thought.

"How's your arm?" Shyvana asked, nervous about his answer.

"It's fine." Jarvan said, shrugging with some effort. "It hurts, but not to much. It helps that you hit like a girl." Shyvana opened her mouth to protest, but puffed her cheek out and scowled at him as he tried his best to suppress a cheeky grin.

"You jerk!" She hissed, striking his good shoulder lightly with the back of her hand. Jarvan feigned pain and it caught Shyvana off guard, because Jarvan burst into a fit of laughter that nearly brought him to tears as he watched the reactions play across her face.

"I'm only kidding!" He said, grinning as Shyvana stamped her foot, her gown billowing about her as Shyvana threatened to flare up as she glowered at him.

"You're so mean!" She said, hitting his chest lightly with her arms, getting close to him slowly. She hit his gently again, her fists bouncing of his chest as she did, taking another half step closer. She hit him again, this time letting her arms stay against his firm chest. She dropped her head as she felt tears begin to swell up under her eyes. "But... I'm just really happy..." Shyvana said, her voice choking up as she dried her nose on her sleeve as tears rolled down her cheeks. The relief she felt at knowing he was alive and here was overwhelming, her mind not knowing where to begin. She turned, smiling as tears ran down her face, her arms limp at her side. "I felt so alone... so lost... without you." She dropped her head as her shoulders shook. "I missed you so much... I didn't know what to do..."

She felt his warm embrace as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her in. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she cried, just so happy he was alive. He stroked her hair gently, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He held her silently, his arm never letting go, his rhythmic breathing calming to her.

"I felt lost..." Jarvan said after several minutes of silence. "Knowing I had hurt you so..." He spoke softly, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, please forgive me..." He said, taking her chin in his hand. She looked up at him, tears still welling in her eyes, Jarvan using his thumb to brush the tears away. He smiled as she nuzzled his hand, closing her eyes and sighing contently, her shoulders shuddering as she let another wave of sobs pass. She dried her eyes with the gown she wore, the soft material now soaked on one arm. She smiled at him laughing just barely, trying to hide her giggles with her arm. Jarvan chuckled and soon they were both laughing aloud, the relief they both felt immense.

"It's good to see the both of you up on your feet." Katarina mused from the doorway. Jarvan sighed, turning and bowing towards her. "I can send for the asylum if you want." Jarvan snorted, as Shyvana felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. He shook his head politely, putting a hand gently on Shyvana's shoulder. She paused, looking up at him, calming her racing heart with a deep breath.

"I appreciate you doing this, Miss Du Couteau." Jarvan said. Shyvana could here the resentment in his voice, but she also also wondered just what would have happened if they hadn't ended up here.

"I would tell you to think nothing of it, but I have yet to get my answers." She said, stepping away from the door jamb. "I left some clothes out that should fit her. Get her changed at meet me in the parlor, both of you, I have some questions to ask."

"As you wish." Jarvan said, waiting for her to leave the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. "I can't stand this." He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "But we don't have any choice."

"What's going on?" Shyvana said, sitting down next to him. She rubbed a hand along Jarvan's spine unconsciously, the gesture seeming to soothe the prince's stress. Memories of her father doing the same to her as a child caused her to smile sadly. She hid the emotion though, trying to remember just what had happened. "I don't remember much after that man, Swain, and the other appeared." She shook her head, frowning.

"You turned into a dragon, sprayed flames everywhere and then tried to fly us out of there." Jarvan said with a sly grin. "Emphasis on _try._"

"Oh." Shyvana said, a surprised look on her face. She blushed, looking down at her feet, a bare shadow of her former self. Jarvan could see the image of the frightening dragoness on a rampage still in his mind. He shivered at the image in his mind. When she was angry... she was monstrous, literally. But now, her she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand perched upon her knees, the other hand against his back, dressed in a frilly pink night gown, blushing up a storm.

"It's fine, it got us out of there alive." He said, shrugging. "Just... try and pick a better landing place next time." He said, grinning. Shyvana matched his cheeky grin, chuckling again, the tension flowing out of her shoulders.

"I'll try." She said, sitting back. "But... it still all seems like a dream." She leaned against Jarvan's shoulder. "Yesterday I was fighting for my life and hunting two people for vengeance... now you're back and I'm sitting in the home of the witch I was just hunting."

"And here I am in debt of the enemy." Jarvan said, sighing. "Lets get you dressed. Best not to keep them waiting too long."

"All right." Shyvana said, sighing as she leaned against him. "Though... I wish I could just stay here like this. It just seems so peaceful..."

"I know what you mean." Jarvan said, his hand settling almost possessively on her waist. "In time, it can be like this." He sighed. Shyvana looked up at him with those gleaming magenta orbs glowing brilliantly as the sun began to set over Noxus. Shyvana placed a hand on Jarvan's cheek, smiling as she pushed up against him, turning gently against the arm in the sling, gently pressing against him. She looked deep into his grey eyes, the golden flecks shimmering. However deep inside those gray eyes, there was something else... Her smile saddened as she held his cheek.

"...Fear." She said softly. She stroked his cheek gently. She knew that the fear in his eyes was his fear of her, the demonic side of her, the beast that dwelled within her. The beast that she was. Jarvan cupped her face with his hand, brushing a tear from her cheek that she hadn't known was there.

"Fear of what?" Jarvan said, looking at her.

"Of me." She said softly, the sad smile on her face. Jarvan smiled broadly, the warm gesture spreading into his eyes.

"Silly girl." Jarvan said, leaning his forehead against hers. "Not of you." He spoke softly, closing his eyes. He pressed his lips to hers, taking the dragoness by surprise. His touch was warm as he held her cheek gently, tenderly her eyes wide as tears streamed down her face. He pushed his lips against hers as he felt her lashes brush against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck holding him close. Their lips parted as she buried her face in Jarvan's neck, his hand stroking her hair. "Only the fear of losing you again."

* * *

Jarvan stepped into the parlor, looking about the room with trepidation. He had been in many a fancy home before, he did live in a castle after all, but he had seen few as tastefully decorated as this. The walls were painted in a bloody Noxian red, but the rooms were kept from becoming too dark with plenty of light and paintings of Valoran that he had recognized in places. There was a particularly beautiful painting from the Freljord, the icy blues very serene and calming.

"You like the paintings?" Katarina said, entering the room from a door Jarvan had not noticed before, hidden by a large plant. She was followed by a servant pushing a cart with tea and pastries piled high on it. Katarina stepped up to his side, examining the painting while the servant deposited the afternoon tea onto the coffee table that sat at the center of the room.

"Indeed." Jarvan said, still taking in the many fine details of the painting.

"I never would have pegged you as an aficionado of the arts." Katarina said with a smirk. Jarvan shrugged turning towards her.

"I've always had an appreciation for things of beauty." Jarvan said, moving towards another painting on the far wall.

"I suppose that's why you have that Half-dragon in your company." Katarina said, putting on a smirk to mask her confusion at the Demacian's almost flirtatious statement.

"I assume these are the questions you wanted answered?" Jarvan said looking away from a painting of pair of ships, a pair of Noxian and Demacian frigates in a rolling gun battle on the open seas, magic and cannon fire coloring the air with great reds, oranges and blues. He glanced at Katarina who simply shrugged.

"More of my curiosity getting the best of me, but why not?" She said putting on a smirk again. Jarvan knit his brow as he looked at the ships.

"I found her in one of the ancient Watchtowers of Mogron pass." He said, frowning. "Crying over the corpse of a dead dragon." He paused. "Yes, she is remarkably beautiful, almost inhuman in some ways, but I knew that there was more to her than just that beauty." He paused again, sighing this time, smiling softly as his gaze tapered off into the distance, as if he was looking off into the past. "She has an innocence to her that is like a breath of fresh air. In this world of eternal strife, all she cared about was protecting her father. Nothing else seemed to matter to her in that instance." He paused, closing his eyes. "It caused me to think. Two years I had been searching for an opponent strong enough to best me and my men, searching for something, some quality, I lacked. But... When we found her, I realized it wasn't something I lacked... just something I had kept trapped away inside of me."

"Oh..." Katarina said glancing away.

"Sorry about that." He shook his head, smiling, rubbing the back of his head, tossing out his long black hair.

"Jeez." Katarina said, leaning against the wall next to the painting, smiling, her hand against her face as she shook her head, smiling brazenly. "You've got it bad, don't you?" Jarvan grinned, looking back at the painting.

"I suppose I do." He said softly.

"Speaking of which, where exactly is she?" Katarina said, frowning. She didn't want to say anything too rude, but she didn't like the thought of the half-dragon walking around her house, unattended.

"Here, I am." Shyvana said, stepping into the room, her face blushed. She wore some of Katarina's clothes, and though a bit too small for her, they fit well enough. Jarvan blushed, blinking lamely. Katarina chuckled, shaking her head.

"I didn't really have anything better suited." Katarina said, shrugging. "Though it does do you justice." She said with a grin.

"Thanks." Shyvana said, pulling the top down to cover more of her stomach, as she threatened to spill out the top. She squeaked as she nearly did, turning away to fidget with it. Katarina chuckled, shaking her head.

"Anyways." Katarina said, gesturing to the seats around the coffee table. "Please, help yourself, while I ask you some questions." Jarvan nodded, sitting down on the sofa, pouring himself a cup of tea. He looked to Shyvana who nodded, and Katarina who politely declined with a curt shake of the head.

"Please, ask away." Jarvan said, fumbling with a raspberry pastry. Shyvana had already dub into a blueberry confection covered with a sticky sweet glaze. Katarina frowned, spreading her feet slightly apart in a relaxed parade rest, as she looked out the window over her father's gardens.

"Did Swain discuss any of his plans with you?" Katarina asked bluntly.

"He alluded to a plot that I was stepping on, but nothing more." Jarvan said with a frown. "Anything in particular?" Katarina frowned for a moment, then shrugged.

"Things are changing in Noxus." She said, sighing, as she clasped her hands together behind her back. "And not for the better. Something is happening within Noxian High Command, rumors of plots and murmurs of a coup passing through the troops."

"Does this have anything to do with me?" Jarvan said, after swallowing a mouthful of pastry.

"I don't believe so." Katarina said, furrowing her brow. "Something much larger is going on here, and you unfortunately managed to stumble into it. Swain is planning something big, and it's going to happen soon." She paused. "With Darius siding with him, Swain controls much of the military, through his own fame, and the grudging respect of his men for his military prowess. The only problem he faces now is Boram Darkwill, the current Grand General of Noxus. He is third in the line of succession behind Boram's son, Keiran, who you both met yesterday."

"The man with the saber?" Shyvana said, catching crumbs in her hand.

"Indeed." Katarina said, nodding as she glanced over her shoulder at the dragoness. "I was actually following some of Swain's men when I stumbled upon you and your small party just north of Mogron Pass. I thought you might have some sort of connection to them due to your... _history_ with Swain, but I suppose in hind sight, it was merely paranoia."

"My past with Swain is hardly that of good terms." Jarvan said with a scowl. "He did try and arrange to have me killed in a duel so he could avoid any connection."

"I realize that now, and while I feel inclined to apologize for my treatment of you before, that is not the Noxian way." She turned, letting the sunlight streaming through the window silhouette her slender frame.

"And the Noxian way entails what exactly?" Jarvan said, eying her suspiciously, holding a strawberry confection, pointing it at her as if it were a weapon.

"While the Noxian's value strength above all else," Katarina said proudly, "We are also infamous for our assassins." A smile spread on her face that sent a chill down her spine. "And I have long mastered the arts of such, including the ability to be subtle in my coercion."

"What is it you want?" Jarvan said frowning.

"If you'll recall, I asked you about what happened to my father." She said, masking the frown from settling on her face, but Jarvan could read it in her eyes, the way her brow creased ever so slightly.

"I do." Jarvan said, swallowing the last of his pastry, washing it down with a gulp of tea. "I really do have no idea what happened to your father." Jarvan said crossing his arms over his chest. "I remember him as a kind, polite man. What could anyone want with him?"

"You knew my father?" Katarina looked surprised.

"No more better than I knew you." Jarvan said. "I met him at one of the many cease fire negotiations, when I was young and accompanying my father on his diplomatic duties. He stood apart from most of the other Noxians because he didn't carry a deep seated grudge against Demacia, rather he just seemed to look out for his own country." Katarina smiled softly, relishing the memory of her father that Jarvan's words conjured up.

"I see." She turned away. "So you know nothing?"

Jarvan shrugged.

"I've been wandering the wastes for two years." Jarvan said softly. "I can check reports and with the scounts discreetly when I return to Demacia, but I can't do much till then."

"I think that would even our debt." Katarina said, nodding, a tight lipped smile on her face shielding her emotions. She may have been skilled with a blade, but she wasn't nearly as skilled with her own emotions. Jarvan watched as her shoulders drooped, a quiet sigh of disappointment escaping her as she tried to hide it by turning back to the window and looking out over the gardens.

"I know how hard it is to lose a loved one." Shyvana said, holding her cup of tea to her face, breathing in the steam that rolled off the top. "For what it's worth, I hope we find good news."

"Thanks." Katarina said, crossing her arms, grinning slightly. "And I'm glad I was wrong about you." She said, chuckling softly. Shyvana looked up at her, a quizzical look on her face. Katarina shook her head, smiling softly. "You would think that, with the stories children are told, that all Demacians are weak-willed pigs, taking advantage of the people and abusing their power. And here I am, faced with two and I can but help find myself in surprisingly good company." Jarvan chuckled, shaking his own head.

"I was raised on horrific tales of the atrocities and evils of Noxus, but you sure as hell don't seem nearly as bad as I was led to believe." Katarina adopted a cat like smile, a dark look gleaming in her eyes.

"The difference is that Many of those Tales are true." She laughed aloud at the shocked look on his face.

"I won't even ask." He said, standing, shaking his head.

"Probably for the best." Katarina said nodding. She looked at the grandfather clock on the wall, stretching her arms above her head. "I must excuse myself though, I have some business to attend to." Jarvan looked at her, and nodded. "I both welcome and urge you to stay here for at least another day. The city needs to calm itself and I need to look into this conspiracy before things get any further out of hand."

"I really appreciate this." Jarvan said, bowing his head. "I'll see to it that I'll do what I can to find out about your father." Katarina nodded back.

"I've spoken with the staff, and Sylvia will see to any needs that you may have, and Talon is about." Katarina said, turning briskly. "He can answer any further questions you may have, but I also must warn you to be careful, the city guard is still on high alert, so stay within the estate walls.

Jarvan nodded, about to thank her again, but the Noxian had disappeared already.

Noxians seemed to have made a habit of that.


	22. Chapter 22: Conspiracy

Jarvan was beginning to feel trapped by the wall that encircled the Du Couteau Estate. While he greatly appreciated what Katarina was doing for them, It was nerve wracking to be stuck in the middle of the enemy camp, relying on someone who should have been an enemy, to keep you safe. He had mulled it over multiple times, and while he had never been able to find any ulterior motive, he still had to wonder about just what was going on here in Noxus at the moment. Something big was coming, and he didn't like it. He was cut off from the world in here.

The cool night air caressed his skin as he stood upon the stone balcony, the waxing moon casting an eerie blue light over the darkened city, lazy trails of smoke spindling up into the clouds across the sky. Jarvan raised his hands out before him, keeping them both level before him, watching as his left arm, the one that had been injured at the shoulder, trembled ever so slightly. He formed a fist, working the muscles in his arm as he flexed it gently, wincing as he did. He sighed, turning back into the room.

He picked his lance up off the banister it had rested against, the weight seeming heavier than before as he returned to the balcony. He lifted it with one had, grunting a bit as he did. He brought the lance up to the point where it was horizontal to the ground, raising his left leg up and striking out with a kick at chest level. He followed through with a strike using the butt of the lance immediately following the high kick and then as he planted his foot, and nothing lunging strike with the butt of his lance. He brought his right foot forward, swinging the lance out and around in a sweeping attack at waist height, a frown on his face when the blow dropped a bit further than he wanted.

He brought his feet together, bringing the tip of the lance down and spinning it upwards a few times, letting the blade spin before him, the rush of the blade through the still air a reassuring sound. As the tip of the blade crested the top of it's circle for the third time, Jarvan grasped it in his right hand and heaved it upwards across his body, letting the weight of the blade lift him as he pushed off the ground. He felt his body get wrenched about, as he leapt over his shoulder, the blade carrying him through a a three hundred and sixty degree arc, landing on one foot, the blade coming down behind him. He let the blade slip into his left hand, his shoulder screaming, but Jarvan ignored the pain, spinning the blade down behind his back. He pulled his right hand around his body and behind his back, catching the blade as it spun out of his hand, twirling about another two times before Jarvan had to plant the butt of the lance on the ground to stop the spin.

The sound of the metal striking the paving slabs of the smooth patio made a _chunk_ sound that sent a bit of a shock up Jarvan's arm. He breathed deeply, the familiar weight of the lance reassuring in his hand. He spun his left arm around in it's full range of motion, frowning at at the pain he felt. It wasn't much but it was just enough to cause him discomfort as he let it drop to a resting postion.

"Something on your mind?" The husky tone of a sleep deprived Shyvana was more than enough to send electricity through his veins. He must have jumped visibly, because she chuckled softly, seamlessly hiding a yawn in the same motion.

"Hmm?" Jarvan murmured, looking over his shoulder, still trying to hide his surprise. Shyvana raised an eyebrow, watching him from the door jamb.

"Sleep doesn't exactly some easy for me either." She said, drifting closer, sitting on the end of his bed, her legs dangling off the edge, her toes only just barely touching the ground. "It seems so peaceful, and yet there is a malevolence in the air that unsettles me..." She sighed, leaning against the post closing her eyes, her breathing slow and deep.

"You sure that's not just Talon watching over us like the hawk he is?" Jarvan said, with a lean smile. Shyvana looked surprised, a wry grin worming its way into her mask of mock horror. She giggled, again breaking into a yawn that she attempted to hide with a hand.

"And what's got you wound up so tight?" She said, stepping up from the bed, raising her arms above her in a languid stretch that caused her toes to curl. Jarvan noted that the night gown she wore wasn't entirely opaque, the moonlight casting shadows of her silky form beneath the thin fabric. Taut muscles and silken skin rippled over her small but powerful frame, tightening and then loosening as she lowered her arms, catching his gaze. "See something you like?"

Jarvan's face burned red as he turned away, facing the city. "Just... admiring the view." He said quietly. Shyvana chuckled, approaching him. She slithered her arms around his chest and hugged him, the swell of her chest pressed against him as she sighed contently.

"You can look all you want." She said quietly. "I don't mind." She stayed there for a few minutes, her deep breaths a calming sound to Jarvan, her presence bringing him comfort. "Your heart beat... it's calming." She said quietly, breathing in his scent deeply. Jarvan sighed himself, resting a hand upon hers, as she snaked his fingers into her own, intertwining them. He raised her hand to his face, kissing them gently, holding her hand there for a few moments.

"It seems so calm here, but we're trapped in the middle of a hostile city." Jarvan said calmly. As Shyvana's embrace fell away slowly, letting her hands drag against one of his many scars. "I feel like at any moment... we could die. Here we are in the house of a Noxian General, leeching of the hospitality of his daughter. I, a Demacian Prince..." He shivered. "To think what my father would do if he ever discovered this." Shyvana rested her hands over his own on the lance, her hands soft to the touch.

"Your father is King of Demacia, isn't he?" She said quietly, examining the lance he held. She had held it dear to her for several days, her only connection to the prince she had believed dead. "That's why you're called prince?"

Jarvan nodded. "He resides over the city state of Demacia, and all of it's lands. I am his heir to the throne." Shyvana looked up at him, her magenta eyes almost a deep purple in the blue moonlight. She wore a small frown.

"I suppose I never thought about it like that." She paused, shaking her head. "I never truly put it in perspective." She took the lance from him, lifting the heavy weapon up and leaning it against the vanity next to his bed. "For a while I wondered if it was just a nickname your men called you by."

"No, it's a title." Jarvan said, stretching. A shiver ran down his spine, a cool breeze rushing across his skin. "Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV, Heir to House Lightshield and the throne of Demacia. It sounds hollow and distant now, as if it were some kinda of dream, but it used to hold some meaning with me." He paused. "And I suppose in time, that meaning will return." He paused against, closing his eyes and raising his face to the sky, letting the breeze caress his skin.

"Would you like me to call you prince as well?" She said, approaching him from the side, and looking up at him with big eyes. Jarvan snorted, chuckling. Shyvana watched him for a moment, a rueful expression on her face. "What?"

"It's nothing." Jarvan said, wrapping his arms around her. She seemed surprising frail when out of her armor, her glassy skin pale and delicate. He was almost afraid to break her if he squeezed her too hard, but he knew well enough that she could take punishment and dish out even more. She was deceptively strong, taking on multiple opponents many times her size, and her reactions were lightning fast from growing up in a hostile environment like Shurima. "To you, it is merely Jarvan." He paused momentarily. "Prince Jarvan if we ever make it to court."

"You plan to court me?" She said raising an eyebrow slyly at him, pearly white teeth gleaming at him. Jarvan laughed again, the rueful expression returning to her face. She slipped from his embrace.

"Apologies." He said, shaking his head, running a hand through his long black hair, clearing it from his face.

"Jerk." She said sourly, crossing her arms over her chest, puffing out her cheek dejectedly. Most would have seen the expression as one to cause regret, but Jarvan saw it as the growing sense of humanity and life within Shyvana. She was growing more and more used to society, rapidly adapting to human mannerism, and becoming more willing to show them off, though he had noticed she kept them bottled up around other people, putting on a menacing air that hid her softer, more vulnerable side.

"I will in time." He said, rolling his neck, yawning. "But I meant the Royal Court in Demacia." His face suddenly grew more sullen. Shyvana turned from where she had been pretending to look angry, slightly surprised that Jarvan had suddenly fallen silent. He glanced out the window with a brooding expression, his face a hard mask, the gentle smiles gone.

"Jarvan?" She said softly, reaching out towards him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, blinking a few times and then letting his face soften. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"The court at Demacia will prove... interesting." He said haggardly. He yawned, hiding his mouth with a hand as he exhaled heavily. He didn't say anything further, but Shyvana could read the worry in his eyes and shoulders.

_I am a foreign peasant and a half-beast. _Shyvana brushed some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. There time together here might not last. When they made it to Demacia things might not work out. The thought was scary, but with Jarvan... she shook her head, feeling her hair bounce around her. _Things will work out._

Jarvan he tossed himself onto the bed, the thick mattresses bouncing slightly under his weight as he flopped face down into his pillow. He rolled over and lay back on the bed, closing his eyes, his chest rising and falling, as exasperated sigh escaping his mouth. A smaller bounce in the mattress told him that Shyvana had sat down next to him. He felt the play of her soft hand against his stomach, caressing his skin.

"It won't get any easier, will it?" Shyvana said softly, laying against his chest. She laid her hands upon his chest, her chin resting upon the top of her hands. Jarvan peeked down at her, and then let his head fall back, his chest heaving in a sigh.

"I'm afraid it really won't." Jarvan said heavily. "Demacia... it will provide difficulties of a much different magnitude." Shyvana felt a shiver go through his body.

"I don't to be a burden to you..." Shyvana said softly. "I'll understand if-..."

"No!" Jarvan said abruptly, propping himself up on one arm. The surprised look on Shyvana's face matched his own surprise at his outburst. He took a moment and composed himself. "No, you aren't-won't-be a burden to me." He growled, anger edging into his voice. "I refuse to let you think of yourself as a burden." Shyvana smiled up at him, reaching up and touching his face with a hand. His expression softened, the anger melting away. She got up, from where her legs were curled beneath her, and leaned over him, pressing a fingertip to his lips.

"As my prince commands." She said, a smile on her lips. She pressed into him, kissing him deeply. Jarvan breathed in her spicy scent, the heat and power she radiated almost intoxicating. As she with drew back, she laid against his chest, one hand tucked under her chin, the other stretched across his chest as she curled into his side. "Can I stay here? Just like this?" She sighed contently, snuggling her head down against his chest."Just for tonight."

"Of course." Jarvan said quietly. Jarvan couldn't help but smile as he let his head fall back against the pillow, realizing just how exhausted he was. Sleep was not far off, descending upon him like a thick blanket.

* * *

Jarvan awoke with a start, his eyes flying open, his body perfectly still. The warm presence next to him was absent, and his heart beat immediately quickened. Shyvana's absence may had woken him, but that was not what caused his hair to stand up on the back of his neck. Hushed tones floated through the window, carried by the breeze in the night air. He couldn't make out any of their words, but he could hear the voices get hushed again. Jarvan raised his head, looking up into the room, watching the curtains that hung over the doorway to the balcony blowing gently in the breeze.

His lance was where Shyvana had left it, so he could assume that they had yet to make their way into the room. Anyone with an ounce of sense would have disarmed him, but in this case, the lance would hardly be appropriate. Jarvan slowly crept from bed, letting the silken sheet slide off of him. He shivered as the breeze coming from the window caressed his bare chest. He slid the drawer on the vanity open, sliding a sheathed knife out, the sound of the sliding wood inaudible over the gently flapping of the curtains. He slid the belts around his shin, fastening then into place and then crept towards the door, keeping himself pressed against the wall, doing his best to be silent. He stood perfectly still, listening for the voices.

"_...and you're sure you're sure this is the place?" _

"_Of course I'm sure that I'm sure. This damned house is impossible to miss."_

"_They're asleep right now, so what do we do?"_

"_Slit their throats, of course. Swain failed to have them killed, so now she wants us to do it."_

"_Fine, let's just get it done."_

Jarvan unsheathed the knife, holding the dark steel blade by the grip. The sound of muffled footsteps clambering over the low stone wall of the balcony seemed to echo around the room. The clink of a metal weapon hitting stone told Jarvan that they carried larger weapons upon their belts, and probably knives in their hands. He waited a few seconds, and grinned, tight lipped, as he was proved right. The blade of a knife proceeded a hand as it gently drew the curtains aside. A hooded head appeared, moving slowly into the room, their attempts to stay crouched down causing them to make more noise than necessary.

_Amateur_.

Jarvan brought the butt of the knife down, hard, upon the base of the man's neck, instantly knocking him out. He caught him as he fell forward, drawing him into the room and around the corner in a single fluid motion.

"Is it done_?"_

"You tell me." Jarvan said softly, stepping into the doorway. The man looked surprised as Jarvan stepped into the doorway. He barely stood up to Jarvan's nose, and he yelped in surprise, his eyes getting drawn to the blade. Though he could see no blood, he automatically assumed the worst and turned and bolted hopping over the stone wall. His foot caught on the sill though, and he tumbled into the bushes below, scrambling to his feet and sprinting for the wall. Jarvan smirked, watching the man run in a straight line towards the closest section of wall.

Jarvan tossed the knife into the air, the blade flipping end over end, and he caught it between his thumb and forefinger, immediately snapping the blade back over his shoulder and letting the blade fly. While not as graceful as he intended it to be, the blade flew straight and true, glittering end over end several times before it struck home. The man crashed to the ground, tumbling end over end in a could of dust.

The door cracked behind him, and Shyvana stepped in, a surprised look on her face when she spotted the man on the ground. Katarina appeared behind her, her red hair tousled about, her green eyes glimmering coldly in the night.

"What was that?" She hissed, following Shyvana into the room. She wore a simple tunic and a pants that was belted with string around her waist, the cuff of which drug along the floor, the other rolled up to her knee. She laid eyes upon the man who lay face down on the ground as she yawned. "Friend of yours?"

"I was going to ask you that." Jarvan said, drawing the curtain back.

"I wasn't expecting company, no." Katarina said, frowning. "You didn't kill him did you?"

"This one, no." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Can't say the same for his friend."

"Get the body." Katarina said. "Shyvana, help me move this one."

Shyvana glanced at Jarvan, but he watched Katarina for a moment. Jarvan nodded to Shyvana, turning and trotting out onto the balcony, sliding over the railing and dropping to the ground. He trotted out the body and smiled. The knife was buried all the way to the haft, and it took some effort to tug free, wiping the blood on the man's tunic before sheathing the blade. Jarvan hefted the man, tossing him up over his shoulder and moved back to the building. He mounted the stone wall and hit the ground heavily, the extra weight causing his knees to sink. He paused, not sure what to do with the body, but Shyvana appeared and waved him forward from the doorway. Jarvan nodded and followed her to the parlor, where Talon stood with a tarp laid upon the ground. Jarvan laid the man upon the ground, accepting a towel from Shyvana with which he set about cleaning the blood off his chest.

"Care to explain this?" Talon said crossly, kneeling over the man, pulling off the mask he wore. The man was utterly average looking.

"I'm quite curious as well." Katarina said, smothering a yawn with a hand. Shyvana glanced at Jarvan, fire in her eyes, anger that someone would dare attack them. Jarvan made short work of explaining the situation, detailing their whispers and the mention of Swain and how they had mentioned a 'she' being the one who ordered the strike.

"Rather unprofessional." Katarina said, scratching the bottom tip of the scar that crossed her left eye.

"Their gear is top notch, though." Talon said, wearing his perpetual frown. "Most of it look brand new. They either just bough the gear, or more likely they were just given it." He examined the blades curiously, and then turned to Jarvan. "What do you make of this?" He slid the blade into its sheath and then handed it off to the Demacian Prince.

"Shouldn't Katarina-Miss Du Couteau- look at it?" Jarvan added the more formal title after the receiving a scowl from the hooded assassin. "I know little about knifes other than basic maintenance."

"Take a look, first." Talon said gruffly, standing up. "You'll probably recognize it." Jarvan frowned but pulled the blade from it's sheath and the his face went blank. He could hardly believe his eyes.

"These are..." He blew a breath out, a frown settling on his face.

"Demacian Steel." Talon said nodding. "Much finer quality stuff than most anything you could buy off the street in Noxus."

"Military grade?" Katarina said, looking at the blade.

"No, much finer quality steel than that." Jarvan said shaking his head. The Demacian symbol had been pressed into the bottom of the blade, and the swirl pattern on the blade was a product of layering several hundred layers of dissimilar metals together during the forging process. There were only a few smithies who made steel as such, all but one living within the city-state of Demacia. The other lived in Demacia, but that smithy had long retired his craft. It was irrelevant though, Jarvan recognized the pattern as something made by a specific smithy in Demacia, the same smithy who had made his blade.

"I know who made this blade, but how it got here, I know not." Jarvan frowned as he accepted the blade back from Katarina, sheathing it carefully. He looked at the blade silently for a few moments, a dangerous feeling sinking into his stomach.

"Something dangerous is brewing in Noxus, prince." Talon said, shaking his head, his cloak rustling as he did. "And I don't think you want to be here when it boils over."

"Agreed." Jarvan said, frowning. He turned to Shyvana, who simply nodded at him. He turned to Katarina, who watched him warily. "How soon do you think it would be safe to leave?"

She shrugged. "Patrols are still heavy about the city over towards where your princess caused all that ruckus the other night," Jarvan frowned, but Katarina showed no signs of regret at her nickname for Shyvana. "And they seem to think that you descended much further than you actually did. They're searching the outer parts of the city where you would have landed if you had missed the estate, and they've been sending guards outside the walls on scouting parties in that direction as well." She paused. "I did my best to draw the attention of high command away, but apparently someone knows otherwise."

"I appreciate all of this." Jarvan said, nodding. "I don't know what we would've done had we landed anywhere else."

"Just remember your side of the bargain." She said, watching him still. Jarvan nodded, then tossed her the blade.

"If I do find anything, This will help you get into the city." Jarvan said. Katarina grinned slyly. "But only on my word." He said, grinning. "Flash that blade expecting to get into the city and you'll be jailed immediately."

"And here I thought all Demacians were dim-witted slobs." Katarina said, matching his smile, albeit tight lipped. "Shall we wake our friend here and see what he has to say?"

Talon nodded, and took a cup of water from the sideboard and dumped it on the wannabe assassin's head. He spluttered and coughed, sitting upright and looking about, his brown eyes darting nervously back and forth from the imposing view of Jarvan, Katarina and Talon all standing over him, grim looks upon their faces.

"Aw crap." He groaned.

"Don't be like." Katarina said, a sweetness so bitter that it caused Jarvan to shiver. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

"I won't say a thing!" The man said, defiantly. There was hesitation in his voice, as if he was scared of those who stood around him, but was more scared of someone else.

"I really don't want to get my furniture dirty, so why don't you make it easy on us." Katarina said. "Or if you like we can lay you down next to your friend and we can see how long you last when we start peeling your skin back."

He went a ghostly white, and the sound of him gulping could be clearly heard through the room.

"I...I can't say." He glanced nervously to the ground.

"Maybe I can convince you." Shyvana said, her voice sultry as she leaned over the back of the couch, her arms squishing her chest together. The man looked over his shoulder than immediately looked at his lap, his face turning bright red. Jarvan crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to hide his own surprise. Katarina looked as if she was doing all that she could not to burst into a fit of laughter after watching Jarvan.

"I-... I... can't." He shook his head. "I shouldn't." He tried to sneak a peek back at her cleavage and just about jumped out of his skin, his shriek of terror nearly propelling him straight out of his seat. Katarina snickered, and Jarvan shook his head, trying not to laugh.

Shyvana had begun to transform, leaving a massive blue scaled claw upon his shoulder. Seven inch, razor sharp claws raked his skin ever so slightly, cutting some of the fabric.

"All right!" He said, pushing himself into the arm of the couch, his voice quivering. "All right! Just get that thing away from me!" Jarvan growled, but he kept it in check.

"Do you have any idea what you were sent to do?" Katarina asked. The man shriveled up his nose, still fidgety, glancing over his shoulder at Shyvana every few seconds.

"We were paid to kill two people, a man and a woman." He said slowly, frowning. "We were shown a map and blueprints, and directed to a certain room." He shook his head. "That's all we were told. We were given the weapons to use and leave behind, and then paid handsomely."

"And who was it that sent you to do this?" Katarina asked, leaning forward, placing her boot between the man's legs on the couch. He was still deathly white, and he looked immensely conflicted.

"I'm going to regret this." He muttered. "Her name was L-..." His voice froze in his throat, a wild look on his face. He clawed at his throat, Katarina taking a nervous step back as he thrashed about. His face turned purple, his tongue hanging from his mouth as he gurgled. He stood, tripping over the edge of the couch, crashing onto an end table, sending a vase crashing to the floor at Jarvan's feet. He twitched on the floor for a few seconds before finally falling still.

"Okay... what the hell was that?" Jarvan said, still blinking.

"Constriction charm... I think." Talon said, shaking his head. He kneeled next to the body, checking the neck for a pulse, shaking his head. "He's gone. It's black magic cast upon prey that is activated by the person wearing it. It seems he didn't know about it."

"Someone really didn't want their name getting out." Katarina said, frowning. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Things are getting out of hand much faster than I had hoped."

"What do you want to do, Mistress Du Couteau?" Talon said.

"Strip the bodies and dump them in the river." Katarina said. "I was going to suggest you two might want to leave during the day tomorrow, but whoever sent these assassin's are going to notice they're gone." Jarvan nodded grimly.

"We should get ready." He said to Shyvana. She nodded, looking at both Talon and Katarina, and then turned, heading for the door.

"A moment, prince." Talon said. Shyvana froze, turning, a look on her face that caused Jarvan to shiver.

"I'll be fine." Jarvan said calmly. "I'll be right behind you." Shyvana paused, silent, but nodded, leaving the room.

"Here." Talon said, handing him the matching knife to the one Katarina carried. "In case the smithy that made these blades proves to have conveniently _forgotten_ about them." Jarvan grinned, nodding.

"Thanks." He said, examining the blade briefly. He looked at the blade, still frowning at the weapon. Demacian craftsman usually stamped their weapons in such a manner, but they were rare one weapons of this quality.

"Another thing." Katarina said. "I heard talk among a few officers that they have your armor, as well as your princess's, held at one of the armories in the city." Jarvan blinked. In the days following his capture and then subsequent attempt at being executed, he had completely forgotten about Darius confiscating his armor. "Both were taken as evidence after you escaped, where they got her's... I'm not entirely sure. If you want, I can show you where they're being stored." Jarvan paused, the though of breaking into one of the Noxian Armories was both dangerous and tempting.

"I appreciate it." Jarvan said nodding. He took the map that Talon held out for him.

"There is a door along the back wall, under a rose bush, that leads out onto a mostly deserted side alley. You can use that." Jarvan nodded again, and turned towards the door. He paused.

"I really appreciate all the help you've given us." He said, his back still toward them. "I'll repay my debt, don't worry."

"See that you do." Katarina said with a smirk. Jarvan disappeared down the hallway, his long strides carrying him towards his waiting companion.

"Want me to watch them, Mistress?" Talon said, frowning.

"At a distance." She said, crossing her arms again. "I want to know what the hell is going on. The more that it involves those two... the more I'm sure my father got wrapped up in this some how and Demacia is involved." She shook her head, turning away. "I need a drink."

Talon snorted as he looked down at the two bodies.

"You're telling me."


	23. Chapter 23: Armory

"Ready to go?" Jarvan said, pulling the hood on his cloak up over his head. Shyvana nodded, standing next to him, both of her hands resting on the baseboard of the bed. Jarvan paused, looking around the room at their meager possessions. His lance and Shyvana's Gauntlets sat against the far wall, the heavy steel of both weapons secured in the corner. The small room was the only accommodations that they could afford since Shyvana's winnings had been confiscated by the Noxian forces when she had been seized by Darius' men. Talon had given them a few silver pieces to work with, and Jarvan had figured they could stow their gear here and then come back for it. Jarvan didn't like it, but he had little choice else; they needed their armor and money. He grunted in disgust; he didn't like being in debt to the Noxians, despite the rift he could see building between the two camps.

He sat on the bed, leaning on his hands, frowning underneath the hood, contemplating just what would happen when they left Noxus. Somewhere out there, Kampf still sat, waiting, biding his time till he had the strength to launch an attack on the city and begin his reign of terror. Jarvan's gaze landed upon Shyvana as she bent over to retrieve her own cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders. When Swain had learned that Jarvan and Shyvana were in cahoots, it had made things that much worse without Jarvan realizing it at the time. If Kampf really did mean to launch an attack on Noxus and start another war, Swain would make sure the blame would ride solely on her shoulders, despite what protests Jarvan would ever try to raise from Demacia.

Jarvan grimaced. If he wanted to keep Shyvana at his side, they had no choice but to slay Kampf. It was no longer just about revenge for his men and Shyvana's father. It was a matter of king and country, a matter of peace for the coming years, their future together at stake. Jarvan felt his fists convulse as he gritted his teeth.

He sighed heavily, his elbows resting upon his knees as he frowned. He had gone on this journey to escape the politicking and stress of being the prince. Even now, that responsibility had tracked him down and he was now wrestling with more responsibility that he had ever faced before. Jarvan lay back on the bed, letting the his eyes close and the sound of Shyvana's quiet footsteps calm him. It was no longer his choice whether he slew the dragon, it was his mission. He had asked Katarina about any reports of any other Demacian prisoners being captured, but she had told him that she hadn't heard any talk of such. That bode well for him, and hopefully meant that Forsythe, Isaacs and Quinn had evaded capture and had managed to track down the dragon. If they were lucky, they would be able to back track towards Mogron Pass and find them. With a tentative plan in mind, Jarvan opened his eyes and yelped, Shyvana's head hanging over his, a curious look in her eye. Jarvan clutched his chest trying to slow his breathing.

"You really need to stop doing that." He said, panting. He pulled himself into a sitting position, shaking his head.

"Sorry." She said with a mischievous smile, returning to adjusting her tunic. "Ready when you are." The tight fitting body suit clung to her curves better than Jarvan could have expected and he had to tear his eyes away from her form, grinning as he did. It clung to her slender waist and arms, and squished her chest together more than was necessary. Katarina hadn't owned anything in Shyvana's size, her shoulders slightly broader, but her bust just as large. They didn't make for a great combination, but Jarvan wasn't about to complain.

Jarvan pulled the Balaclava up over his nose, opening the window of their room in the Inn. He stuck his head out the window, giving the deserted street a cursory glance just to make sure it was clear. A patrol of Noxian soldiers marched by, the rhythmic sound of boots on cobblestone echoing down through the streets as they disappeared around a corner. Shyvana wrapped her scarf around her face. She frowned, looking down, the relatively low cut tunic squishing her chest out.

"Doesn't look like you're ready." Jarvan said with a smirk as he brought his head back inside the room. He watched with interest as Shyvana fidgeted with her tunic as she had before, trying to keep it from riding too low, but as she pulled it down, she threatened to spill out the top of her tunic. "Here, tuck the ends of your scarf into your tunic." Jarvan said, gesturing with a flat hand down along his own chest. Shyvana watched, frowning, She took the ends out of her hood, spinning the scarf around so the ends hung low over her chest, tucking them into the front of her tunic. She fidgeted with them for a while before she finally seemed satisfied.

"There we go." Shyvana stuck out her chest, trying to make sure that it wouldn't slide free. Jarvan coughed, turning away as he blushed, checking to make sure the strapping on his weapons were intact. He wore the polished Demacian blade from the assassins on his shin, a longer blade upon his waist, strapped to his belt, the grip facing left. He had the two remaining throwing knives strapped to his right thigh, just within the reach of his arm.

"You sure you don't want a weapon of your own?" Jarvan said.

Shyvana frowned but shook her head. "With weapons I'm clumsy." She flexed her fists, looking at the lance against the wall. It had been a brutally effective weapon, more useful for the amount of force she could generate with it rather than the utility that Jarvan used it for. "I work best with my hands..." She snapped her finger, a mote of flame dancing above her finger tips. The black leather shone in the firelight. "Metal would be best, but this should work well enough."

"I'm sure." He said, glad the balaclava hid his blushing at her unintentional joke. Jarvan straightened the clasp on his tunic, pulling the deep black cloth around him. Shyvana tried to do the same, but It fell away, the cloth snaking down over her shoulders as it pooled on the ground around her. She sighed, frowning. She pulled the clasps together again and was fidgeting with it when Jarvan grasped the edge of the fabric. He pulled the clasps together and clipped them, the dull golden clasp bearing the Demacian emblem. Shyvana smiled at him, watching as his hands worked. Satisfied that it would stay, he gave it a tug, the motion surprising Shyvana, nearly sending her toppling over.

"What was that for?" She said, sticking out her tongue. Jarvan grinned, unable to keep a straight face around the infectiously happy young dragoness.

"Just checking." He said, turning to the window, but giving her a quick wink and a grin as he did. "Time to go."

Jarvan slipped out the window, standing on the ledge of the balcony. He gave Shyvana a hand up, her leather booted feet barely making a sound on the wooden ledge. He turned, leaping up into the air, catching onto the balcony above theirs, pulling himself up with a grunt. He crept to the edge of the doorway leading into the room, and looked inside. It was clear, so he waved Shyvana up. She clambered up, nary a sound. Jarvan had a dumb look on his face, and Shyvana grinned, patting him on the leg. Jarvan shook his head as he leapt the gap towards the balcony next to them. He checked that doorway, and while the room was occupied, the occupants were both asleep. He placed a finger over his lips and waved Shyvana forward as he clambered up onto the roof from the railing. Shyvana sidled up beside him, sitting on her haunches and Jarvan crawled up the roof to the crest. He poked his head out and looked about.

He was a bit surprised by the complete lack of guards as far as he could see, but he wasn't complaining. He put the Noxian High Command on his direct left and looked out into the city, towards the river, recalling the map in his mind. He couldn't see the building that Talon had described on the map, but he suspected it would be easy enough to find. He nodded to Shyvana and they began moving along the roof tops, using overhangs and archways over the street to wind and leap their way towards the river front, only the occasional barking dog and the clatter of boots below to slow their advance. They were looking for a courtyard with a fountain, a tall tower rising over it, Jarvan saw three towers that more or less fit the description, and decided to work left from right.

They were making good time, and across from a run in with some roosting birds, they had done very well to keep their presence hidden. Jarvan was getting a running start across a gap near the base of the first tower when a Noxian soldier stepped into view on the roof across the way. He took his last step and jumped, throwing himself across the gap, his attempt to stop going to leave him just short of the edge. He hit the edge of the roof with his stomach, struggling with the edge, disturbing a flock of pigeons who had been roosting just underneath the edge of the overhang. He dropped, his fingers screaming when he clasped onto the edge of the rooftop, hanging just barely. He tried not to wheeze, closing his eyes and hoping to god that the guard above wasn't paying attention. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Shyvana's cloak disappear behind the far roof. She stuck her head up, meeting Jarvan's gaze, her eyes wide as saucers. She shook her head quickly, putting a finger over her mouth and then pointing up. Jarvan nodded, exhaling silently as possible, doing his damnedest to keep absolutely silent.

"Trouble?" A female voice said from above.

"I really need to get reassigned to something besides guard duty." He heard a guard say, a heavy sigh followed by a curse. He heard the strike of a match and then the acrid scent of tobacco drifted down. Jarvan nuzzled his mouth into his arm, the acrid stench burning his eyes.

"I hate when you smoke those revolting things." The female voice said. Jarvan heard the shift of someones stance, and could only imagine the man shrugging.

"I forgot you didn't like them." The man said. "It's just been a long day, and I'm realizing how screwed up this post is. Captains had me running all over the city searching for some escaped prisoners or something, and it's running me raged."

"So, you're telling me you don't enjoy our late night meetings like this?" The female voice said with sarcasm in her voice, the tone not enough to be malicious, but just more than playful, a chuckle coming from the male voice.

"Oh I enjoy it plenty, but if the captain or my wife found out about this, it'd be hell to pay." The male voice said. "I'd never get out of here." Jarvan rolled his eyes, his fingers burning.

_Don't do it here, don't do it here. _Jarvan thought over and over to himself. The unmistakable sound of armor being lowered to the roof and the dropping of fabric caused Jarvan to let his head droop as he sighed quietly. He looked about for a ledge he could jump too, and was happy to see one below that he might be able to land on if he was lucky. He didn't think he would last too much longer hanging here anyways. Jarvan heard the unmistakable sound of a man and a woman make together, and it took a lot to keep himself from sighing heavily. Little gasps and moans drifted over the edge of the roof and Jarvan had enough. He swung, kicking his legs back and forth together to get his body swinging, dropping onto the ledge below. He grabbed onto a shutter, accidentally ripping it from the wall, the wooden covering falling to the cobbles three stories below and breaking apart.

"What was that?" the female voice gasped, out of breath.

"Who cares?" The male voice said with a grunt.

"What if it was something important?" The female voice said, her voice faint and panting. "You're on guard duty, aren't you?"

"I can check it out when we're finished." The man said. Jarvan moved slowly along the balcony, accidentally kicking a sleeping cat. The animal hissed and growled at him, turning into a ball of fur and claws. "See, just a stupid cat." There was an audible pause, the woman's moans growing louder as the man busied himself with distracting his companion. Jarvan slid along the wall, rounding a corner and then continuing along the ledge, where he came across a ladder attached to the side of the building. Sweeping his cloak behind him, he jumped onto the ladder, pulling himself up to the edge of the roof. He stuck his head up, and satisfied that the couple was still busy with their own pleasure, Jarvan slid onto the roof. He looked to where he had left Shyvana, and frowned when he didn't see her. He began to turn, when Shyvana leap from a distant building, landing next to him with only the whisper of her cloak. Jarvan sat back, covering his mouth to mask a yelp.

"I told you to cut that out!" He hissed, frowning at her. Shyvana pushed a finger to his mouth, jerking her head to the side. Jarvan exhaled slowly, letting his heart drop out of his throat, following her around the edge of the rooftop and then across an archway into the courtyard they were trying to get to. Jarvan peered over the edge, looking down into the courtyard.

Water burbled in a small fountain, a tree covering most of the courtyard in darkness, despite the bright moon high above. Jarvan dropped into the courtyard, rolling as he hit the ground, coming up in a crouch behind the tree. Shyvana followed, dropping to the ground much more gracefully than Jarvan had managed. He ran his fingers along the bark, finding a small square hole in the tree, pointing towards the first tower. Jarvan peered around the tree, sighing heavily, pealing his hood back, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. He rolled the balaclava off his face, gasping for breath, as he leaned against the tree.

"That was too damn close." He said, his tone low. It would carry less on the slight breeze that rustled the leaves above him if a guard were to approach without their notice. He grunted as he sat down, his back against the tree. He breathed slowly, his breath hot and ragged from holding it so long. He pulled out a small water bottle, the soft sided pouch swishing about as he uncorked it.

"What exactly were those two doing?" Shyvana asked quietly, her eyes set intently on Jarvan as he raised his water bottle to his lips. Jarvan choked on the swig of water he was taking, spewing it out and coughing as he pounded his chest.

"What?" He hissed, looking over his shoulder, wiping his face with the hem of his cloak. Jarvan was relieved his outburst hadn't brought any attention their way, sighing, leaning back against the tree, letting his shoulders droop. "Oh man..." He scrubbed his hand over his face, peeking at Shyvana through his fingers.

"What is 'O-man'?" Shyvana said, sitting down on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. She perched her chin atop her knees, watching as Jarvan brushed water from his clothes. "Is that what they call mating in Demacia?" She furrowed her brow. "But he spoke of her 'husband' as if it were another man. A 'Husband' is another word for a Human life-mate, isn't it?"

"No, no... it's called..." Jarvan ran a hand through his hair again, frowning. "It's not exactly easy to explain what they were doing." He paused, looking at the bottle of water, fidgeting with the chain that kept the cork handy. He tilted it up, pouring some into his mouth again.

"Would it be easier to show me?" Shyvana asked innocently. Jarvan choked and spewed water again, coughing as he gasped for air. He took deep breaths as he tried to figure out how exactly to explain act of love-making to a half-dragon female. An extremely attractive half-dragon female who Jarvan was quite taken with. The thought of taking her entered his mind and Jarvan blushed, shaking his head to banish the rather devious but obviously enticing thought.

"Yes and no." Jarvan said, running his hand down his face, finally corking the bottle. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that stage of the relationship, but he was pretty damn sure that Noxus wasn't the place to start. He sighed again, heavily this time, scrubbing his face with his hands. While he had admittedly good self control, he didn't want to get caught out with a name said aloud in a moment of passion. It was already bad enough, with wanted posters for the both of them up around the city. "I'll explain it later." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "But yes they were... 'mating'." Using that word felt odd to him, but she obviously knew what that meant. She blushed, her pale cheeks pink, a surprised look on her face as she nodded slightly. "Lets just get what we came for and get out of here." Shyvana nodded, standing, stretching out her hand.

Jarvan shook his head and took her hand and pulled himself to his feet, letting himself slide into her arms. She looked up at him with her big magenta eyes, frowning at him.

"If I did anything wrong..." She began to say, but Jarvan grinned, brushing his nose against her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll explain it all later, don't wor-... shh." He held her close, a finger pressed to his lips.

"Damn that was good." A guard said from the head of the courtyard, strolling into view, one hand raised behind his head, the other holding a halberd with a hook on the barrel, a lantern swinging about freely. It cast harsh shadows through the courtyard.

"That was fast." Another guard said, chuckling."Done with your mistress already?"

"Yep." He yawned. "She was hot to trot tonight, didn't take long to get her to come." He fist bumped the other guard, leaning on his halberd.

"You got me covered for the rest of the night, right?" The man said grinning. The guard from before nodded, still leaning on his halberd.

"As per our deal." He said, nodding. "Keep an ear open for the Cap'n. Don't wanna get caught sleeping on guard duty."

"Yeah, yeah." The man said, waving his comrade off. He yawned, walking off towards where Shyvana and Jarvan stood silently. "Damnit, I need to stop taking these extra late shifts. I wouldn't have to cover for that lecherous scumbag." He took his helmet off, scratching his head. Jarvan felt his breath begin to burn in his chest, not willing to make a sound. The Guard leaned against the tree slumping down. Snores began to echo from around the edge of the tree. Jarvan pressed his finger to his lips, Shyvana taking a silent step back. Jarvan drew his knife, but Shyvana put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. Jarvan frowned, looking down at the man, heavy snoring now echoing from the man's mouth.

Jarvan's shoulders sunk and he shook his head, pulling his hood back up and the mask back over his face. He slunk to the wall of the courtyard and getting a running start, he took a step forward and launched himself up onto the roof of the one story building next to the courtyard, barely able to get a hand hold on the roof to pull himself up. He turned, preparing to give Shyvana a hand up, when she landed nimbly on the balls of her feet on the edge of the roof, a sly grin on her face, just barely visible behind the scarf. She winked at Jarvan, heading in the direction of the tower, disappearing over the edge of the roof. Jarvan turned to follow, but paused looking over his shoulder. The man's snores still echoed from the empty courtyard, the burbling fountain even drowned out by the man.

"You coming?" Shyvana said, sticking her head up over the edge of the roof.

"Yeah..." He shook his head, scampering up the rooftop. "I'm right behind you."

Jarvan clambered up and over the rooftop and paused, Shyvana perched upon the top of a window, looking up at the tower. Jarvan slid down the roof next to her, looking up at the tower as well. Standing a good fifty paces across and vaguely circular, the tower contained weapons and men of the Noxian Guard. There was a short squat stone building attached to it, a heavily armored metal door set deep in the stone. The symbol over the main entrance of the small building bore the words _'Armory_' in big letters. Jarvan grinned.

"The directions were correct." He said, watching as a roving guard passed the main door.

"I have another question for you." Shyvana said with a curious look on her face. Jarvan paused his observations of the guard post and turned towards her. He arched an eyebrow, still watching the guards over his shoulder. A platoon moved past, the click of their heels echoing through the city streets.

"Was that guard going to meet his mate again?" She frowned, scratching her cheek. "Where was she coming to meet him at?"

Jarvan blinked a few times, turning his full attention to her. "Wha... what?"

"And what was that man's fascination with her chest?" She tugged on her tunic. "I mean, I understand they're used for raising young, but he was hardly a child, and wasn't getting anything from them." Shyvana pressed her chest together, examining her cleavage curiously. Jarvan felt his face burn as he teetered on his haunches, a dumb expression on his face behind his mask.

"I... I..." Jarvan stammered, snapping his jaw shut as he tumbled over. He hit the roof, sliding a few feet before coming to a stop, his face burning up. Shyvana watched him with a curious expression, still pressing her chest together in a provocative manner as she leaned over Jarvan, her face hanging just over his as he looked up at the sky.

"Jarvan? Are you okay?" She said, helping him into a sitting position. She clung to his arm, her chest pressed against his shoulder.

"I'm..." He glanced over at her, her bright magenta eyes shinning purple in the moon light, staring up at him. Jarvan scrubbed the top of his head viciously, gritting his teeth, his entire body clenched as he growled. He look up at the sky, frowning. "This is your fault, isn't it, great-grandfather." Jarvan exhaled heavily, shaking his head dismissively.

"Great grandfather?" Shyvana said, frowning. "You think he was her great-grandfather?" Jarvan turned and looked at her, blinking slowly.

"What?" He exclaimed, catching himself, not realizing just how loud he had been. "What?" He hissed, shaking his head, letting his shoulders sag. "No, no, that's not what I mean at all. I'll explain it all to you later, okay?" Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Any questions you have. Just... not here."

"Promise?" Shyvana said, looking up at him with big pleading eyes. Jarvan blinked a few times, incredulously, and then rolled his eyes, letting his head hang back. He stared up at the sky, exasperated.

_This is SO not happening on the roof of some Noxian house. _He looked over at her, and shook his head. _You really have no idea what you're asking._

"I promise." Jarvan could see the smile in her eyes. He shook his head again, groaning. "Now just follow me." He pulled himself up to his haunches and then crept along the roof along the road. He paused, waiting for the Guards patrolling the street to move past the archway he was poised over, kneeling at one end of the archway that carried over the street. The archway separated two districts within the city, and Jarvan could see the difference even in the street. Even, flat paving stone lined one side and rough hewn cobbles paved the other. He shook his head, the separation of classes so evident that it hurt. Guards stood below, keeping unwanted visitors out of the upper class neighborhood, politely but firmly turning away beggars and rabble that tried to escape the filth that lined the streets. He waved Shyvana forward as he began to cross, the archway just wide enough to hide him if someone looked straight up.

He made it to the far side and hunkered down, waiting and watching for a stray guard to notice them, preparing for the worst, his hand upon his blade. Shyvana crossed without incident though, and crouched next to him as he scanned the buildings. He moved slowly along the rough top, the sound of boots echoing up from the streets below, the din of voices just audible above the rhythmic clank of armored boots. The roof of the armory was a floor down and the gap between the building they sat on was just going to be long enough that they would have trouble making it silently. Jarvan frowned as he paused, thinking. There was a window that led into the armory, dim orange light glowing from within, its glass panes swinging open in the night air.

"ALWIN!" The shout surprised Jarvan, the voice booming up from the streets below. Jarvan crept to the corner of the building and grinned, watching a man with a beret atop his head stand fuming at a guard. His fists were posted on his hips and he growled at the man who stood at attention before him. "Asleep on duty, again!" He bellowed. "I've told you time and time again to stay awake or I was going to have you courtmartialed!"

"Now's our chance." Jarvan whispered, waving Shyvana forward. He took three large steps back from the edge of the rooftop and with two massive steps, he threw himself across the gap. He landed a bit harder than he wanted, but he rolled up and out of the leap, landing in a crouch, his feet skidding on the metal roof as he came to a stop. He froze, listening for an alarm, but no calls, no cries of anger came forth to bring guards down upon him. He turned back and waved Shyvana forward, and watched in amazement as she simply dipped her legs and leapt, sending herself flying through the air towards him. She landed just before him with nary a sound, rolling from her toes down to her knees, the rustle of her cloak the only sound. Jarvan shook his head, a jealous grin on his face as she looked up at him, her magenta eyes glowing playfully in the moonlight.

Jarvan turned and slipped through the window, dropping onto one of the beams that ran across the high ceiling room. He ducked around one of the support beam that ran up to the underside of the roof as he felt the beam bow slightly as Shyvana dropped onto the beam behind him. Jarvan watched as two guards patrolled the room below, a heavy steel cage sitting on the far side of the room from where Jarvan sat atop the beam. The men paused before it, one of them listening to the captain outside screaming at the man who had fallen asleep before. The guard below shook his head, and turned, strolling back along the route he had come from, slowly making his way around the room. Jarvan spun, holding onto the support beam, pointing at Shyvana and then towards another beam. He balanced on the beam carefully, then formed a fist and brought it down in his open hand, pointing at the guard who stood next to the gate. Jarvan pointed to himself and then the roaming guard.

Shyvana met his gaze and nodded, leaping silently across the gap, swirling around the top of the beam. Jarvan wound between the support beams as he moved along the rafters. He paused above the iron door, looking over his shoulder as the roaming guard approached again. Shyvana watched him as he waited for the guard to come to a stop and lean his weapon against the iron cage, digging in his pocket for a cigarette.

Jarvan raised three fingers, then lowered one, and then lowered the third.

He dropped off the rafter.


	24. Chapter 24: Ruse

"Oh man, what a day." One of the guardsman exclaimed loudly as he drew towards the iron gate. "Been running back and forth around the city all day searching for that dragon-girl and the prisoner who escaped has got me worn the heck out." He leaned his halberd against the iron bars, yawning as he dug through his pocket. He pulled out a silver cigarette case, taking out a hand rolled cigarette from the case and slipping the case back in his jacket.

"You were searching for them yourself?" The second guard said, surprised.

"I was." The first guard said, shaking his head. "But I got pulled. Now, my cousin is out searching for dragons and what do I get? Guard duty." He snorted in disgust.

"I hear that." The other said, shaking his head. He sidled forward, looking left and right nervously. "Word is, their gear is what we're guarding here." He gestured into the iron cage with a thumb. The other guard paused, his mouth hanging open, the cigarette hanging on his open lip. He snapped his jaw shut.

"So that's what Captain's so angry about." He chuckled. "He's been outside tearing Alwin a new one for the past five minutes." He patted his pockets down, searching for something, frowning.

"Need a light?" The guard said, chuckling, leaning his halberd against the iron bars, grinning. He pulled a pack of match out of his pocket, pulling one from the pack and striking it, holding it out for his friend to light his cigarette. The man took a deep pull, sighing. He held it out.

"Thanks." He said, shaking the match out and tossing it away, taking the cigarette in two fingers, and taking a pull of his own. He held the smoke in for just a moment, exhaling slowly, shaking his head. "Here yo-..." A massive black shadow dropped out of the rafters behind the first guard, arms raised.

"Hey behind you!" The guard shouted as he dropped the cigarette, grasping for his halberd. The first guard dropped to the ground, unconscious. "Aler-..." He started to shout, turning back towards the door. He froze in his tracks, his voice caught in his throat. He gulped.

"I don't think so." A fearsome redhaired woman snarled, a vicious grin on her face. He tried to yell, but grasped grasped his throat with her hand. He could feel his Adam's Apple bobbing over the top of her grip, his voice caught in his throat. She snarled at him, lifting him up and them tossing him at the wall. He felt a huge pain blossom from behind him and then darkness swallowed the world around him.

* * *

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Jarvan asked, tossing his man up over the rafters, the man breathing heavily. Shyvana walked over to where her target lay in a heap on the ground and put her ear to his mouth.

"He's breathing." She said, shrugging. She shivered and blinked her reptilian eyes away, frowning. She hadn't meant to call forth her darker side, not to the surface at least. _Am I losing control of myself already? _She shook her head, rubbing her eye with the palm of her hand. _Keep it under control, that's all you have to do. _She blinking a few times, and caught Jarvan looking over at her.

"Something wrong?" Jarvan asked, frowning. Shyvana blinked a few times, shaking her head.

"Nothing." She said. "Here." She lifted the man up, grunting as she tossed him over her shoulder. She stood, handing him off to Jarvan. He hefted him up into the rafters, both men hanging over one of the rafters. Jarvan hopped up upon a crate, pulling himself up and onto the rafters. Jarvan hauled the two men up and tossed them out the open window he and Shyvana had come through. He trussed them up with a bit of rope, but they would be fine on the flat roof. Jarvan reappeared sliding through the window and dropping to the ground, looking at the lock on the heavy iron doors.

"There they are." Jarvan said, grinning as he looked through the iron bars. He saw two piles of armored plates on the table against the wall. He frowned though. "How are we going to get the door open?" He grumbled. "Neither of the guards carried keys... I checked."

"I'll take care of it." Shyvana said, smiling as Jarvan tugged on the iron bars, only getting the bars to ring hollowly. He stuck the door with his boot, growling.

"I don't think that's going to work." Jarvan said, shrugging but he moved out of the way. Shyvana winked at him.

"Just leave it to me-..." She grasped her face and doubled over in pain. Horns burst from her head, ripping through her hood. She looked up from behind her hands, reptilian eyes gleaming in the dim light from beneath her hood. Blue scales gleamed through her skin in places, shimmering in the lantern light. "Step back." She hissed.

Jarvan shivered, but nodded and stepped back, watching her approach the lock. He could never get used to the sound of her voice, the inhuman tones that seemed to underlay the voice he had grown familiar to, it was unnerving.

Shyvana reared her head back and inhaled deeply, snapping her head forward and blowing a thin stream of flames at the lock. She blew out slowly, the lock blackening and then turning red then white hot, the metal sagging beneath her breath. Grinning, barring her viciously long fangs, she struck the lock with her fist, sending the metal crashing to the floor and the door swung open. She shivered as her draconian half retracted within her skull, as she doubled over in pain. She shook her head, standing up, pulling her hood back, and fingering the holes she had ripped in the hood.

"This was a nice cloak, too." She said sadly. "I keep forgetting about the damn horns." Jarvan wore an impressed look on his face and shook his head, chuckling softly. He swung the door open fully and stepped inside, waving Shyvana forward.

"Let's get this stuff and get out of here." Jarvan said, pulling out a pair of burlap sacks. He handed one off to Shyvana, and then busied himself with stuffing his armor within the sack. Shyvana busied herself with her own armor, stowing it quickly inside the sack. He tossed it over his shoulder, and cracked his neck, heading towards the window again. He heaved the bag up into the rafters, the weight of it wedging in between the two of the supports beams where they came together in a 'V'. Shyvana did the same, tossing hers through the window. Jarvan formed a cup with her hands, gesturing up to the window. Shyvana grinned, ducking low and then extending her legs. She sailed straight over Jarvan, landing in the window. She looked over the edge, grinning down at him.

"Show off." Jarvan muttered, grinning. Ice ran through his veins as the doorknob clattered. He froze, watching as the door swung open. He looked left and right, ducking behind a stack of crates.

"...so you're telling me that Alwin was asleep at his post again?" A guard growled as he stepped down into the armory.

"Tell me about it." The captain said with a frown. "That's the third time this week." He turned the corner down the main walkway in the armory and frowned, his face going blank. "What happened here!" He bellowed, running towards the gate.

"What in the world could have done this!" His lieutenant said, examining the lock. He touched it and yelped. "It's still hot... whoever did this, they can't have gotten far."

"Alert all guardsmen and lock down the area in a three block radius." His lieutenant saluted and sprinted off, out the way they had come, leaving the captain scowling in the metal cage. He roared, striking the metal bars with his fist, the iron humming. He growled, his head hot enough to fry an egg on. Jarvan pulled himself off the crates he had hidden behind and stepped up upon one, and was crouched to leap for the rafters.

"You there!" The captain bellowed. "Freeze!" Jarvan leapt up, grabbing the rafters and pulling himself up. He grabbed his armor and holding it above his head, he dove through the window, landing on the roof. An alarm went off, the bell ringing from the tower above. Jarvan scowled as he tossed the bag over his shoulder and hauled Shyvana to her feet by the collar of her jacket.

"Time to go!" Jarvan shouted, sprinting towards the edge of the roof. He dropped off the edge, swinging the bag above his head, dropping several guardsmen who stood stunned at his appearance. He drew his knife from his belt, striking out at another guard in a diagonal stroke that bisected his belt. His pants dropped and as he scrabbled to try and lift his pants, Jarvan simply lashed out with a kick that sent him tumbling over backwards.

He grinned as a guard lunged at him, trying to skewer him with the tip of his halberd. Jarvan raised his knee and brought his elbow down over the wooden staff, splintering the weapon. The guard looked surprised, and Jarvan caught him across the face with the flat side of the blade.

"Feel free to join in any time!" Jarvan called, Shyvana perched on the edge of the roof, a grin on her face.

"I'm enjoying watching you fight." She said, kicking her legs back and forth.

"Right, right." Jarvan said, grunting as he ducked back and forth as men lunged at him with halberds again. He swung left with the blade, knocking one of the halberds aside and then striking the man with an uppercut swing of his bag. It struck the man on his chin, sending him flying. Jarvan grinned as he landed on his back several meters away in a cloud of dust.

He threw him self to the side as the seconds guard lunged at him, trying to strike him again. Shyvana dropped down on top of the blade, the tip of the halberd hitting the stones and then the shaft snapping as Shyvana shifted her weight to her forward foot, pushing herself up into a short hop. She spun and brought her foot down in a hammer blow upon the man's shoulder, sending him to the ground.

She reared back, flames coiling about her fist as she landed. She threw her arm out like a punch, towards a building. Flames rocketed out towards the building, exploding as they struck the ground before the building, flames licking at the wooden structure.

"Come on!" She said, grabbing Jarvan's arm, sprinting towards a wall of guards. She roared at them, dropping low and spinning upon her heal, flames cloaking her foot, getting thrown outwards like a wall of pain. The flames hit the ground, erupting in a massive wall of flames. Shyvana leapt over the flames, Jarvan yelping as he hopped with her, nearly crashing to the ground.

"Damnit!" The captain shouted, bursting from within the armory. "A and B platoons get the flames under control! C Platoon go after then."

"B platoon is gone, captain!" His lieutenant shouted. He froze as he looked at the remnants of B platoon scattered on the ground.

"What!" He cried. "DAMNIT!" He growled. "C Platoon, help A Platoon! Then we pursue." He watched as the two black clad figures disappeared down an alley.

"This way!" Jarvan said, tugging Shyvana down an alleyway as she sprinted past. He pulled her down another alleyway, ducking in and out of alleyways as he sprinted through the city. Shyvana laughed, sprinting along side him, a massive smile on her face.

"This is fun!" She said happily.

"It would be more fun if they weren't trying to kill us!" Jarvan said with a grin of his own, sweat dripping down his face as he followed her as she snaked around another corner. Jarvan followed, his armor clanking upon his back as he turned another corner. Shyvana slowed to a trot, sticking her head out towards the street. She looked back and forth down the street then waved Jarvan forward, pointing down the street.

"The inn is just up ahead." She said, ducking back down the alleyway. "I recognize the sign."

"We should get higher then." Jarvan said, gesturing upwards with a thumb.

"Can't we just go through the front door?" Shyvana asked, about to step into the street. Jarvan grabbed her by the hem of her cloak, pulling her backwards. He wrapped an arm around her mouth.

"Shhh." He said, quietly. A squad of guards were moving down the street knocking on the doors, asking residents about unexplained sounds or strange sightings. "We need to move quickly." Jarvan said, releasing her and taking her by the hand. He ducked across the street as the guards talked with residents along the street. They made it across the narrow street without incident, and ducked into the alleyway, and around the back of the building.

"What are we going to do?" Shyvana hissed, sticking her head out from the alleyway. The guards were methodically checking door by door, and she expected they would do the same thing when the got to the inn. They weren't moving terribly fast, but they had already gotten pretty close.

"I have a plan." Jarvan said, "But we need to get into the room." He tossed his bag of armor up onto the roof of the building, the toss just high enough to get it onto the roof. Shyvana did the same, but tossed it too high, misjudging her strength. The clank of the armor hitting the roof echoed down the alleyway and into the street. She covered her mouth to hide her embarrassment, frowning.

"Hey, I think I heard something." A voice called from the street. Jarvan froze.

"Check it out quickly and then get back here." Another deeper voice called.

"Right." The first voice said, the sound of boots clanking against cobblestones.

Jarvan grabbed Shyvana by the arm and jerked her around the corner of the building, pressing her against the wall. The boots grew louder and louder, a man's heavy breathing seeming to echo in his ears. Jarvan sucked in a breath and held it.

"God this is stupid." The guard grumbled, the clank of metal on stone as he shifted from foot to foot. "Building by building check at four in the morning." He yawned, and turned. The footfalls sounded as he headed back towards the street.

"That was too close." Jarvan said, exhaling. "Let's get back to the room."

Shyvana nodded, peering around the corner and ducked down, leaping up and grabbing the edge of the third story roof. She hauled herself up, and grinned, the deadpan look of surprise from Jarvan more than enough to please her. She winked down at him as Jarvan got a running start, kicking off the stone wall and grasping at the bottom of the second story window. He hauled himself up, clambering up the side of the wall with some effort, finally getting to the roof. He clasped Shyvana's extended hand, the dragoness helping haul him up over the edge, grinning. Jarvan blew out a breath, shaking his head. Shyvana grabbed her bag, moving to the front edge of the building as Jarvan picked up his own bag. Jarvan moved up with her, peering over the edge. Some of guards moved beyond the inn, but two guards knocked on the door of the inn.

"This is gonna be close." Jarvan said, groaning quietly.

"Open up, innkeeper!" One of the said, yawning, looking over at his men as they moved up the street knocking on doors. "Come on, open up!"

The creak of the door resounded from below them, the short, fat innkeeper waddling to the doorway, his mustache twitching.

"What do you want?" He said, hiding a yawn with his arm.

"We're searching for escaped prisoners." The guard said, puffing out his chest. "We need to check your records against people in the rooms." The innkeeper scowled.

"Surely you jest?" The innkeeper said, stepping back, astounded. "In these wee hours of the morning?" He looked as if he had been rocked by a punch.

"It's happening all across the city. Do it." The guard growled. "Or I'll see to it that you get your business rights removed."

"Damnit." The innkeeper said, with a frown. "Fine, come on." The Guards followed him into the building.

"Now's our chance." Jarvan said, ducking over the edge and dropping onto the balcony. He held his gear in one hand as he lowered himself down onto the second floor balcony. He pushed his gear through the window, Shyvana lowering her own bag down over the edge to him. He pushed the bag through the window and then clambered through. Shyvana followed him, a grin on her face. Jarvan kicked both bags of armor into the far corner, behind the door, and then shoved his lance and Shyvana's gauntlets under the edge of the bed. "Quick, strip down."

"What?" Shyvana said, blushing. Jarvan had already dropped his cloak on the ground, stripping his tunic off over his head. :He was undoing his belt, Shyvana looking at him, astonished.

"Hurry!" Jarvan hissed. "I have a plan." Shyvana blinked a few times, then undid her own cloak, the brown cloth dropping to the ground like liquid. She dropped the scarf as well, then had to peel the leather tunic off over her head. Jarvan kicked his boots off and nearly tripped as he tugged his trousers off. Shyvana had kicked off her boots, but was having trouble unlacing her own pants, the sound of knocking coming from down the hallway. Jarvan froze, looking over his shoulder, towards the door. The sound of muffled voices echoed up the hallway. He kicked their clothes under the bed and then scuffed his hair up, making sure it was a sweaty mess.

"Damn, damn, damn." Jarvan hissed, frowning from behind some sweat drenched locks of hair. He turned to Shyvana, who was still struggling to undo the lacing on her pants. "It's fine, just hop in the bed!"Jarvan ripped the covers down, dropping his drawers and slid in next to her. Shyvana looked utterly stunned, as she sat bare chested next to Jarvan. A sharp knock came at the door as Jarvan pulled the covers up over them.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana whispered, looking over at him. The knock came louder at the door.

"Sir, Ma'am, I need to speak with you a moment." The voice of the innkeeper called. Jarvan looked over his shoulder. The sound on the door came again, this time a banging, rather than a polite knock.

"Open up!" A man ordered.

"Do you trust me?" Jarvan said, blushing furiously. Shyvana met his gaze, smiling nervously and nodded. Jarvan's heart was pounding in his ears, his mouth dry.

"Open up or we will kick the door down!" The guard ordered from outside the door.

"Sorry about this." Jarvan said, blushing, rolling over Shyvana, holding himself above her with his arms. She looked up at him with wide eyes, the blue moonlight shining down on her face, her magenta eyes shining brightly, her pale cheeks flushed a bright red. He ran a hand back through her hair, drawing it out of her face and grabbed her chest gently, a squeak of surprise coming from her as Jarvan pushed in, kissing her fiercely. He brushed his tongue against her lips, asking for entrance. Her lips parted and he snaked his tongue in, enjoying her spicy taste as their tongues tangling.

The door was kicked in, swinging back around and bouncing off the bags of armor. Jarvan sat, up, a fierce look on his face as he wheeled about.

"What is it?" He nearly shouted. Two guardsmen stood in the doorway, their mouths hanging open in shock.

"Apologies!" One of the guardsmen said, his face pale as Jarvan rolled off of Shyvana as she pulled the covers up over her face/ She screamed.

Jarvan rolled off the bed and onto his feet, searching the ground for his drawers. The guards looked down and blinked a few times, the Guards turning and backing towards the door.

"What do you want!" Jarvan growled, standing up fully, staring the guards down. They glanced down against and shook their heads, backing away.

"Nothing! We didn't mean to intrude." The guards backed out of the door as Jarvan scowled, the innkeeper apologizing profusely as Jarvan slammed the door behind them. The lock had been broken, ripped from the doorjamb. Jarvan hit the padlock higher up the door, and leaned against it, breathing deeply as he pushed his ear against the ear. He listened silently as the innkeeper fumed at the guards.

"You men are going to pay for the damages!" The innkeeper hissed. "I hope they don't press charges for your sake!" The Guards continued to apologize as the voices faded away down the hall, the sound of boots on the stairs. Jarvan breathed a deep sigh of relief as he leaned his back against the door, his feet sliding along the floor, slowly sliding to the ground, his head falling to his hands as he tried to slow his pounding heart.

"That... that was way too close." Jarvan said, letting his head fall back, chuckling nervously. He blew out a sigh of relief. He struggled to his feet, and was surprised when he found his knees shaking. He sat on the edge of the bed heavily, scrubbing his hands over his face. He lay back, still breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling as he let his heart rate slow.

He felt a soft hand against his shoulder and he looked over, Shyvana still blushing furiously.

"That was..." She said, glancing down. She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her cheek upon her knees, her nervousness despite what Jarvan had just done to her causing him to blush. He glanced away, shaking his head, closing his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to straighten the mess he had made before.

"That was really, really stupid." Jarvan said, laying his arm over his face. "And I can't believe it worked." He chuckled nervously, still breathing deeply. "I think your scream clenched it, though." Jarvan said, peering up from under the edge of his arm, grinning at her. "You saved us." He said, winking at her. Shyvana watched him and blushed, smiling.

"I was genuinely surprised when they burst in." She said, glancing away. "I may be only half human, but even dragons have their modesty." Jarvan blinked a few times and groaned. He had been so busy trying to distract the guards he hadn't even thought about Shyvana's feelings.

"Sorry about that..." He said, sighing, letting his arm roll back over his head. "I just... I couldn't have them remembering our faces." He blushed. "I needed to give them something else to think about. I should have warned you about what I was planning." Shyvana shook her head as she chuckled softly, some of her locks of long red hair bouncing back and forth over her chest as if fell down from where Jarvan had run his hand through her hair. Jarvan glanced down her body and then blushed, looking away. The dark leather posed as a massive contrast between the paleness of body, the milky texture of her skin glowing with the moonlight silhouetting her from behind.

"I was surprised..." She said softly, glancing at the floor. "But I enjoyed it." Jarvan could barely hear her voice as he turned a bright red color. He sat up, blinking, watching her with a dumb look.

"I..." He began to say as Shyvana smiled cheekily at him.

"Just don't forget your promise." Shyvana said. Jarvan turned bright red, his confidence draining as his mind began to wander. Shyvana lay back, laughing, smiling happily at Jarvan. He met her smile and started laughing, the entire situation becoming massively hilarious to him. He laughed away his nerves, Shyvana doing the same, giggling happily. Jarvan felt his nervousness drain away. He lay back, still chuckling, the stupidity of his plan suddenly hitting home. Shyvana yawned, stretching her hands above her head, pressing against the headboard. Jarvan yawned as well, shaking his head, and chuckling. He looked back at Shyvana, still blushing, just taking in her body. She blushed but smiled, glancing away nervously.

"Sorry..." Jarvan said, blushing again, starting to wonder just what the hell he was doing. He was fearless upon the battlefield, willing to dive into the ranks of the enemy, willing to face down beasts and predators that even the bravest hunters would shy away from. He had faced the worst that Noxus had to offer and he had survived. He had faced down entire armies and it hadn't phased him. Now, he found himself trapped in a small inn, in a room with a young half-dragon and he was nervous! His nerves just seemed to drain from his body as he shivered. He wanted to taste the fruit, he wanted to explain the world to her, but he couldn't stop blushing. He held his hand out before him, his rough, calloused hand shaking like a greenhorn staring down a charging Strider beast. He shook his head, trying to figure out what was wrong. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about the dragoness' embrace, shivering with excitement.

Shyvana pressed herself against Jarvan's back, wrapping her arms around his chest.

"You can look if you want." She said softly, leaning her head against his back, breathing deeply. "There is nothing wrong with that." She shook her head gently. Jarvan could feel her chest pressed against him as he closed his eyes contently, smiling to himself. He started to feel at ease, the nervousness he felt draining away.

"Thank you." Jarvan said, reaching up and stroking her arm gently. Her skin was smooth as silk and warm to the touch. As the cool night air flowed into the room from the open window, warmth flowed from Shyvana into Jarvan, warming him to the core. He just sat there for a few minutes, stroking Shyvana's arm and smiling softly to himself. Her chest began to rise and fall and her breathing deepened as she drifted off to sleep.

Jarvan chuckled as he shook his shoulder. "Hey there, I'm not a bed." He said, smiling. Shyvana sat up, rubbing her eyes with a balled up fist, yawning. Her chest swayed as she did, causing Jarvan to stare. She smiled, looking up at him.

"Sorry..." She said softly. She lay back and struggled with her pants, finally managing to get the waist unlaced and then peeling them down her body, kicking the pants away to the side of the room. She ducked under the covers, shivering. She peeked over the top of the covers, a pixie grin on her face as Jarvan smiled at her. He shook his head, chuckling, looking back at the far wall. He felt happy being able to laugh about nothing, a simple glance enough to cause a chuckle. It was something new to him, something... _amazing._ The feeling was fleeting as he tried not to think about what the future coming towards them was bringing. He shivered, a haunting image of his father and Kampf looming over him. He sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling as he did.

"You know that things aren't going to be easy from now on." Jarvan said quietly, leaning on his knees, staring intently on a spindly pattern in the wooden walls across the room from him. "We have to stop Kampf before he causes any true devastation. And I don't think it will be easy when we return to Demacia either." Jarvan glowered. "...I don't know what will happen there." He leaned back, looking over at her as she huddled under the covers, pulling them up under her chin as a gust of air swept into the room.

"I know... and I don't care." Shyvana said quietly but definitely, fire burning in her magenta eyes as she looked intently back at him. "None of it will be easy... but with you... I know we can do it." She glowed, smiling as Jarvan found his mouth hanging open. He clicked his jaw shut as he scoffed, grinning. "I don't know what tomorrow will bring, nor the day after that... but as long as I am with you..." She sighed softly, her chest rising and falling. Jarvan laughed, causing Shyvana to blush, glancing away nervously.

Jarvan shook his head. "I don't know what I would do without you." Jarvan said, dropping his head to his hands, sighing deeply. He looked over at Shyvana from behind his hair and hands. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"You coming to be or not?" Shyvana said, the mischievous, pixie like smile returning. "This bed is cold, and with what might happen in the coming weeks, you should enjoy it while you can." Jarvan found himself staring, open mouthed with an abashed expression on his face. Shyvana was adapting to human society faster than he could have ever expected, memories of a dirty, defensive young dragoness attacking him atop the watchtower in Mogron Pass coming back to him. He shook his head, chuckling.

"This isn't some 'Sleep with me tonight, cause tomorrow we may die' speech, is it?" Jarvan said with a snort. Shyvana smiled, but broke into a yawn, hiding it behind the covers of the bed.

"What's that?" Shyvana said coyly. Jarvan paused but chuckled. He doubted she actually knew what that was, but the completely innocent way she said it was just funny to him.

"Something else for me to explain someday." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He crawled into bed, hiding a yawn with his own hand. He lay on his side as he pulled the covers up, staring at Shyvana, her sleep laden eyes looking back at him, gleaming in the darkness. She moved towards him, brushing hair from her face and over her shoulder, pressing her lips to his briefly. She took his hand and rolled, pressing her back to him, wrapping his arm around her, across her chest. Jarvan breathed in her spicy scent, the warmth of her body flowing into him again.

Shyvana's breathing grew deep and rhythmic almost immediately, the excitement of the day just having completely drained her. Jarvan smiled, burying his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent and sighing contently. He could feel her smooth skin pressed against him all along his body, and Jarvan felt happy, as if nothing could bother him.

His eyes fluttered shut as he drifted off to sleep.


	25. Chapter 25: Reflection

Jarvan sat heavily on the edge of the bed, watching Shyvana move about the room, her soft footsteps causing the floorboards to creek occasionally. Her strides were short and she hummed a soft tune as she worked through the room, cleaning her armor. Jarvan paused, looking at his own heavy, metal chest plate. Blood stains covered the armor, most of it his own. He scratched at a bit of the blood, flaking the black material off the golden armor. He brushed his fingers over the deep scars in the chest plate, memories about how he had gotten them resurfacing violently. Some carried good stories about how he had been outsmarted or nearly killed, and then over came the odds in a bad situation. Others... they had carried good memories once upon a time. Now, they seemed like marks of failure, his team, his friends, now dead and gone.

Shyvana kneeled before him, looking up at him with a frown on her face. "Something is wrong." Shyvana said quietly, watching his reaction. He frowned, looking down at the floor shaking his head. He tried to put on a brave smile to comfort Shyvana, but she definitely could see through it.

"It's nothing." Jarvan tried to say, but Shyvana held his cheek, a sour look on her face.

"Do you think me a fool?" Shyvana said, glaring at him as she kneeled before where he sat on the bed.

"What?" Jarvan said, a surprised look on his face. "No, of course not." He shook his head, blinking.

"Then do not think you have to hide your emotions from me." Shyvana said with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tried to keep a firm look upon her face. "I may be only half human, but you read like a book."

Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. "I can't get anything past you." He laughed nervously, looking up at the ceiling exhaling slowly.

"What's bothering you?" Shyvana said, standing up and sitting next to Jarvan on the bed. She ran her hand up and down Jarvan's spine and felt him shiver. He ran his hand over the surface of his chest plate, and ornate pattern decorating the center of it.

"...I feel as if I failed my men." Jarvan said quietly, his mind wondering again. "I asked them to follow me on this journey, and they did. It was a selfish gesture of my own and now I have to carry that burden home to their families." Jarvan formed a fist, his hand shaking violently, his knuckles white as he bounced his fist off his knee.

"Your men knew the risks." Shyvana said quietly, placing her hand upon his calmly peeling his hand open. "And they knew that. They followed you regardless, because they trusted you." She smiled. "I don't think any of them held it against you, and I don't they would even now..." She used her thumb to wipe a tear from Jarvan's cheek.

"Sorry..." He said, still conflicted. "You shouldn't have to see this." Shyvana shook her head, smiling at him.

"Your feelings are important." She said, putting her arms around him. "You needn't hide them from me."

"Thank you..." Jarvan said quietly, blinking the blurriness from his eyes. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Don't thank me." She said, grinning. "You'd do the same for me." She nuzzled Jarvan's hair, stroking the back of his neck gently.

Jarvan wrapped his arms around her and simply breathed deeply, his head against her chest. He could hear her heartbeat, the steady sound calming to him, her scent strong in his nostrils.

A knock came at the door.

Jarvan frowned, his hand snaking to the knife he wore on his thigh. He drew it and held it behind his back as he stood. He wore the bottom half of the black bodysuit he wore under his armor, his chest bare despite the cool air that blew through the window. Rain had begun to fall, the gently _pitter-patter_ of rain hitting the street coming from the street. Shyvana ducked below the sheets, holding the sheets over her chest despite the loose white tunic she wore, the garment hanging off one shoulder. He moved to the door, holding the blade behind him as he undid the deadbolt. The innkeeper stood in the doorway, a smile on his face.

"Good morning!" He said, showing his hands in a placating manner. "I hope that after last night you're not going to press charges."

"We won't, but we will log a complaint with the City Guard." Jarvan said, lying about their intents. He wanted to get rid of the innkeeper in case he saw something out of the ordinary. Barring that, Jarvan just wanted to get out of the city.

"Of course." The innkeeper said. "If you or your wife need anything, please don't be afraid to ask."

"We won't, thank you." Jarvan said, smiling to hide his surprise at the man's comment.

_Do we really look like a married couple?_ He smiled; it wasn't something he had ever thought about. _It could be a good cover story to get out of the city._

"So what do we do now?" Shyvana said, sitting up on the bed, her legs crossed. Jarvan closed the door and bolted it again. The innkeeper hadn't said anything about paying for the damages to the door so Jarvan could only assume that the City Guard would pay for it out of fear of brutality charges.

"We need some supplies." Jarvan said, shrugging, rolling his shoulder as he stepped away from the door. He leaned his shoulder against it, sighing heavily. "Then we start searching for Kampf." Shyvana nodded, getting out of bed and busying herself with getting dressed. Jarvan listened for any movement outside the door, but satisfied that there was nothing, he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped away from the door, still massaging his shoulder, running hand over the new scar on his shoulder as he glanced at Shyvana, a grin on his face.

He pulled on the black body suit of his armor, the reinforced leather taut over his skin. It was a bit tighter than he remembered; the past few days of recovery in the Du Couteau manor had served to help him put on a few pounds. He patted his belly with a grin as he sealed up the body suit. He paused, looking over his armor and then shrugged to himself. He assembled it around his body and then draped a cloak around him, trying to get it to cover most of his armor.

The large cloak barely made it to his knees due to the ornate spikes on his armor. He frowned, but was satisfied with the appearance. His silhouette was much different than normal, and it would keep passersby from approaching, the cloak over his armor giving him a menacing appearance. He wrapped the burlap from the night before around his lance, trying to hide the appearance using some of the clothes, stuffing them along the blade. The end appearance was odd, but it would hide the weapon from cursory glances and prying eyes.

Jarvan stood, the heavy armor a comfort to have on again. He already felt safer than he had in many days, and as Shyvana threw her own cloak over her shoulders, Jarvan grinned. She slid her hands into the Dragon's Head gauntlets, raising them up and then forming the dragon's head, one gauntlet over the other. She opened and closed the mouth a few times, making a snapping sound as she did, waving the head around through the air. Jarvan shook his head, laughing.

She smiled as she hung them on the armor that rode on her hips, and jumped a bit. The armor stayed put despite her jerky movement, and satisfied they would stay, she threw her own cloak around her shoulders. Satisfied they had all their belongings, Jarvan and Shyvana left the inn, only a brief exchange with the innkeeper to slow them.

Armed with directions towards the closest marketplace and gates to the city, Jarvan and Shyvana stepped onto the cobblestone street.

"What gloomy weather." Shyvana remarked as she pulled her hood up. The slow drizzle had set in early that morning, enough to chill the air and soak the city, but not enough to hamper any of the daily business. She pouted as they stepped out from under the balcony, Jarvan pulling his own hood down over his eyes. He wore his helm around the back of his neck, keeping it out of the way of his hood.

"At least it's not the downpour we dealt with before." He muttered, the damp air causing his chest to ache where he had been hurt. The skin tingled, as if their was a weight on his chest, but he simply inhaled and shook his head. He set his lance, bundled as it was, on his shoulder as he stepped through some of the meager traffic that moved up and down the streets.

"Very true." Shyvana said, looking up into the perfectly gray sky overhead. "It doesn't rain like in Demacia, does it?"

"Not usually." He said with a shrug. "We do get rainstorms like that occasionally, but the weather in Demacia is fair most of the year. It stays cool in the spring and autumn, while not getting too hot during the summer. Winter weather can be usually harsh because Demacia is fairly far north, and the snow can get deep as well for a coastal city."

"Snow?" Shyvana said, her eyes widening. "You get snow in Demacia?" Jarvan blinked, looking over at Shyvana as they walked.

"Lots in the winter." He said nodding. A smile spread on Shyvana's face.

"I've never seen snow before." Shyvana said with a grin. "My father told me tales about the Freljord and their people, the Three Queens and of their descendants... but in Shurima we only had the rainy season." She moved as if she were dancing, her excitement carrying into her very movements as she looked up at the sky, her eyes lighting up as she imagined the rain were snow.

"Demacia has a much different climate that Shurima." Jarvan said, chuckling.

"Tell me about it, would you?" Shyvana said with apprehension. "Tell me about Demacia..." She grabbed his hand, tugging on him slightly.

"All right." Jarvan said with a grin. "But where to begin?" He said with a chuckle. "What would you like to know about it?"

Shyvana scrunched her nose up as she thought for a moment.

"I know much of it's history..." She said, but then her face lit up. She skipped ahead of Jarvan, a smile on her face, still holding his hand as she spun about and walked backwards, leaning towards him as if she had a secret to tell. "Tell me about it's people and the city, what it looks like." She held his hand as she walked backwards, a pixie grin on her face as she watched him, pulling him along like he was a small child. He couldn't help but smile.

"The Demacian people are a proud and noble sort, many of which value honor above all else." Jarvan watched Shyvana, as she stared intently up at him, still wearing that infectious pixie-like grin. "They are a people utterly devoted to justice and they train and strive to sharpen both body and mind in order to uphold that ideal of justice. They are driven by their desire to see that ideal spread throughout Valoran, for the betterment of all of Valoran's people." He paused for a moment. "While peace comes naturally to Demacia, there are those who would try to inject malice and detract from the moral ideals of the city. They are harshly punished to discourage such action... but such punishments do not come without just and fair trial. Some may view it as harsh but Demacians stand by their values." He nodded his head proudly.

"Who is it that judges those who have broken the law?" Shyvana said, still intently watching him.

"The city is ruled by my father along side a house of elected council men and women. Between those two bodies of power, the city is home to the many minor Noble Houses, some of which who watch over the lands surrounding the city-state. Many of them paying tribute in the form of foods, wares or gold to the city in exchange for protection from the beasts and bandits that roam the land. The city itself is breathtaking, though." He paused for effect. "Gardens and great buildings dot the city, and beauty is abundant even in the streets. They are clean and pristine, only marred by the shadows of towering spires that litter the skyline."

Jarvan raised his hand in a broad sweeping gesture towards the sky. The dirty industrial monster that was Noxus seemed to surround them as Jarvan painted a picture of his home. He shivered, the entire city around him seeming hostile, even the many denizens of the city keeping to themselves. Jarvan and Shyvana were given looks of envy and malice as they strolled hand in hand through the streets, as if the happiness they shared was a sin among the streets of Demacia.

"I can only imagine..." Shyvana said softly.

"Great banners of blue and gold flap freely amid the wind along the parapets of the city, and the city walls glisten with both power and the people's nobility." Jarvan smiled proudly, the memories of his home causing his heart to swell with pride. Part of him was beginning to long for that city, a homesickness he hadn't felt before. "And the ocean... oh the ocean." Jarvan said, chuckling softly. "The city, she sits upon the coast, over looking a great bay, the waves lapping at her beaches. Soft sand and the pounding surf stretch out along the city, the ships drifting along the horizon as they arrive and leave the port." Jarvan's voice softened.

"I've always wanted to see the ocean." Shyvana said, wonderfully, her eyes clamped shut as she envisioned the great shimmering body of water, writhing with both power and danger, stretching out endlessly. "My father told me tales of it." She said excitedly. "Though he was never able to show it to me."

"I would be happy to show it to you." Jarvan said, smiling. "The view from the palace is breathtaking."

"I would like that." Shyvana said, smiling, squeezing Jarvan's hand. "I would like that a lot..." Her voice faded off to silence as they walked along the street.

"Your father taught you most of the country's history, did he not?" Jarvan said after a few minutes of walking.

"Some history yes..." She said, frowning. "Though much of it was colored with distaste towards humans."

"Your father didn't eat... humans... did he?" Jarvan said, blinking rapidly at her choice of words.

"Good heavens, no." Shyvana said, laughing as she shook her head. "He didn't think much of humans because of your fondness for war and strife, but he also respected the race of man. They were a young race, but they had much promise. His words were often... harsh when he spoke of humans through." She frowned as Jarvan watched a whole spectrum of emotions play across her face. "The blatant disrespect for life and the world around you in your early days always left him with a poor opinion of humans."

"You say that as if he watched it happen." Jarvan said, shaking his head.

"He did." Shyvana said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "My father is-... was a celestial dragon." She said sadly. "He lived for thousands of years, and much of his knowledge was gained first hand. He watched the horrors of the rune wars and the malevolence that shook the structure of the world to the very core." She shivered as she spoke, anger in her voice. "It was hard on him to have watched all that pain and suffering... and then to try and raise me while running from dragon and human kind..." He voice trailed off, and Jarvan squeezed her hand as a tear ran down her cheek.

"Can I ask a question?" Jarvan said softly, as he swerved to avoid a puddle.

"Of course." Shyvana said, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Why was your father killed?" Jarvan asked. Shyvana frowned, looking down to the ground. "If you wish not to..."

"No, it is a painful subject... but it is something you should know." She paused as if she had something further to say, but blushed and shook her head. "My father and I were hunted for all of my life by dragon-kind. Many considered my half-human blood to be an abomination. Both human and dragon alike hounded us across the continent, endlessly trying to kill me and and my father for raising me. He was an outcast, and so was I. We never stayed in the same place long, constantly on the run..." Her head hung. "It was horrible." Jarvan gave her hand a squeeze, and Shyvana rubbed a hand across her face. Jarvan suspected it was to banish a tear, but Jarvan couldn't tell and wasn't going to push her any further on the subject.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jarvan said quietly. "I'm sure he was a good man-... err, dragon." Shyvana giggled, drying her eyes.

"He did what he could to try and help me be happy." She said, a soft smile upon her face. "It was hard for both of us, but he was able to use his knowledge of the world to keep us safe from many an occasion that would have ended our lives." She paused. "But... it only lasted so long. Kampf was relentless. He tracked us endlessly, often attacking anyone who tried to help us and terrorizing and devouring humans who took pity on me and my father."

"You don't need to go any further/" Jarvan said softly, as Shyvana blinked away a tear. She sniffed, and wiped a tear from her cheek, anger starting to show through her sadness.

"I never had any friends growing up, only my father's tales to keep my mind from driving me insane." She said sourly. Her hand clenched Jar van's, and he could feel her skin growing warmer as her temper seemed to grow. "I was constantly fighting for my life; many humans thought they would kill us off and save themselves from the reign of terror that followed us. ...I would have killed you had you not detained me so swiftly when you first found me." She sounded ashamed of the admission, but Jarvan knew the memories were painful for her.

"It wasn't all that difficult." Jarvan said, letting a hint of playfulness seed his voice." Shyvana looked up at him, her cloudy eyes looking surprised. She scoffed.

"You!" She said, slapping his shoulder lightly, sending a torrent of water cascading down his cloak.. "I would have killed you had I not been so emotionally distressed." She raised her nose up, and tried to give herself a haughty air, looking down on him. It didn't work though, as he towered over her.

"Luckily for both of us them." Jarvan said, laughing aloud.

"Yes..." Shyvana said, leaning against Jarvan. She squeezed his hand, falling quiet as they walked along the cobblestone street, the rain still falling gently around them. "But... I came to bitterly despise both Dragons and Humans." She spoke the words as if they were admissions of guilt to a heinous crime. "I hated them both what they had done to my father and myself, and in time I learned to kill them both." She flexed her free hand, looking down at it with revulsion. "But Kampf was still there, terrorizing us, hounding us, looking to end us and the first chance he got..."

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said quietly.

"He hunted us like dogs." She spat, angrily. "And in the end he killed my father... and he left me to mourn, waiting till he could return and kill me, end me, like nothing more than a ver-..."

"Shyvana!" Jarvan practically shouted. He stopped, pulling her about, looking down at her. She blinked, as if she were surprised he would raise his voice. "Enough..." He said softly, cupping her cheek. She blinked a few times, surprised. A tear ran down her cheek, and Jarvan wiped them away with his thumb. "It's all history now. I know you still resent dragons and human-kind alike... and I can't return your father to you..." He paused, looking regretful. He shook his head, putting on a brave smile. "But you have a home now. In Demacia... with me."

Shyvana buried her face in Jarvan's cloak as she wrapped her arms around him. Jarvan chuckled softly as he set his hand upon her head, stroking her hair gently. Shyvana sniffed, brushing more tears away.

"I'm sorry..." She said softly. "You shouldn't see a dragon cry like this."

"It's fine, love." Jarvan said softly, looking up at the sky. Shyvana tightened her grip around him and then let her arms fall away. She slid her hand back into his, putting on a brave smile, her eyes still red from the tears.

"Shall we continue on?" She asked, looking up at him.

Jarvan simply nodded, smiling at her as he turned back to the street.

Shyvana was humming the same tune as she had earlier, and though she still seemed sad, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

* * *

"Is that everything?" Shyvana said, looking around the writhing marketplace. Jarvan had a heavy bag tossed over his shoulder, and carried his lance across his back, using some rope he had purchased to fashion a sling that he used to carry the lance.

"Let's see..." Jarvan said, ducking out of the rain under the awning of a tavern. He set the heavy canvas bag down on his boot, trying to keep from setting it down in the puddles that littered the street. "Food, medical supplies, basic camping and cooking gear, two packs..." He paused, thinking. "Pretty much everything we could need."

"Now what?" Shyvana asked, looking up at the sky. "It's going to be difficult to find Kampf without a tracker." Shyvana frowned. Bitter memories of the words the young Demacian tracker had left her with came to mind.

"I was asking around about Taverns or restaurants that rangers and trackers tend to frequent." Jarvan said, cinching the bag closed again. "There's a small tavern just outside the city called 'The Boar's Head'. We can start by asking about any of the signs of dragon attacks or a trail."

"That's a start, I guess." Shyvana said, looking bitter. "The sooner he's dead... the better."

"I know how you feel." Jarvan said, shivering. "Come on." Jarvan pulled his hood lower and grabbed her hand, setting off at a brisk pace, taking her by surprise.

"Jarvan?" She hissed as he pulled her along, nearly knocking an old man over.

"Don't look, but there's a guard's platoon making a sweep just behind us." He frowned. "The sooner we're out of the city... the better." Shyvana looked over her shoulder and sucked in a breath, watching as a platoon of guards slowly swept up the street, comparing faces to two pictures on a piece of paper. Each soldier had one, and though Shyvana couldn't see what was on the paper, she suspected it was a picture of herself and Jarvan.

Jarvan drew her through the market, moving quickly, winding between stalls, trying to make his way around the patrol without running into it. The patrol didn't enter the market, continuing down the road towards the gates. Jarvan and Shyvana followed at a distance, keeping a wide margin between the Noxian Guardsmen and themselves.

"Crap." Jarvan said as the guardsmen took up posts around the gate. The began screening people as they left the city, checking everyone who was trying to gain entrance to the city and exit the city. He turned and immediately grimaced, his hand raising toward the lance he carried upon his back.

"What is it?" Shyvana said, quietly. She could sense that Jarvan had become tense, and she could tell something was wrong. She couldn't see over the people along the street, but something Jarvan had seen obviously was bothering him.

"More guards." He said, with a frown. He glanced around, and then grabbed Shyvana's hand. "Come on, in here." He ducked through a doorway, and into a small bakery. He paused at the door as the guards passed, reinforcing the patrol that was already manning the gate.

"Welcome to Sinful Succulence." Someone said from behind the counter. "How can we serve you?" Jarvan blinked as he looked over his shoulder, the scent of the baked good getting to him. He blinked a few times, the sweet scent heavy in the air.

"My wife and I were just passing by and could smell the sweets." Jarvan said, putting his hand on Shyvana's shoulder.

"Please, take you time to look about!" The clerk said with a smile. Jarvan nodded his thanks, smiling at the clerk and then steering Shyvana towards the counter, where a glass display case showcased the bakery's cakes and pastries. The sweet aromas and the smell of wood smoke was enticing enough, but Jarvan leaned over Shyvana, his hand still upon her shoulder as he looked through the display case.

"That was too close." Jarvan whispered with a sigh as he pretended to look over the baked goods.

"I didn't even see them coming." Shyvana said, giggling. She sniffed the air, and sighed. "That smells lovely." Jarvan looked up as a woman in a long skirt wandered out of the back of the bakery, a tray of cookies in her oven mitt clad hands. She wore a sour expression, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Jarvan blinked a few times as he stood up straighter. The woman had bony spines extending from her back, as if she had wings upon her back that had been shredded long ago and never grew back. Her skin was lavender in hue, and her ears were long and pointed. He shook his head, looking away as she glanced at him.

"Arya, head down to the docks and see if my shipment of sugar is in." She said, looking away from him, looking at the clerk. "Do not dally!" She called after the clerk as she bowed and back out of the room, hanging her apron on the wall. The woman watched her go, and made a clicking sound as she watched her go, setting a sheet of cookies down upon the table that sat behind the counter.

"Are you the owner?" Jarvan asked, eyeing her colorful outfit, flour and other ingredients covering her hands and apron. She set about washing the flour from her hands, the oven mitts she wore hanging at her waist.

"I am." She said proudly. "My name is Morgana, and this is the best bakery in the city." She dried her hands on a cloth that hung on one of her apron strings that ran around her back. She held her hand out, and Jarvan shook it gently. Shyvana bowed, as the woman's gaze lingered on Jarvan's gauntlet.

"I'm sure." Jarvan said, noticing her gaze, and hiding his gauntlet back under his cloak. "Everything smells and looks delicious."

"It could be done better." She said, looking down her nose at Jarvan. "I don't have the time to bake everything myself... and the hired help isn't what it used to be." She said, shrugging slightly. "It doesn't help that import tariffs are on the rise..." She frowned as she turned and looked back to her kitchen. "Damned Demacians are pressing their borders on the sea and trade is suffering." Jarvan shared a knowing glance with Shyvana.

_It's time to go._ She nodded, matching his gaze.

"I'd like two of these, please." Shyvana said, gesturing towards a round, tan and brown looking confection that sat in the cabinet.

"Of course, of course." Morgana said, "I didn't mean to shoulder my troubles off onto two travelers such as yourselves." Jarvan smiled politely, surprised that Shyvana was purchasing something. He watched warily as the woman bagged the sugary confections and gave Shyvana her change. "Please, come again."

"We will." Shyvana said, smiling politely. "Come on, dear." She said, taking Jarvan by the hand and leading him to the door. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Jarvan breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was... different." He said, shaking his head. He had met some strange individuals before, but she was definitely one of the more interesting persons. She had been decidedly non-human, but Jarvan didn't recognize her as a member of any of the different races that occupied Valoran. He paused as Shyvana handed him one of the large chocolate cookies, licking her lips as she did. "What possessed you to buy these?" He asked, sniffing the cookie.

"My nose." Shyvana said, grinning back at him. "Besides, she would have thought it weird if we hadn't bought anything." Jarvan blinked a few times, the thought dawning on him.

"I... hadn't even thought about that." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He reconsidered the Dragoness and just how fast she learned. She was incredibly sharp, and he had yet to meet anyone she gave anything up to when it can to appearances. He shook his head as he bit into the cookie, chewing thoughtfully.

"This is delicious." Shyvana said, closing her eyes as she chewed slowly. "What is this?"

"This?" Jarvan said, blinking. "It's just a chocolate chip cookie." He looked down at the cookie. While good, there wasn't anything special about the cookie.

"It's exquisite." She said, scarfing down the rest of the cookie. She licked her fingers and looked back at Jarvan, who had only taken a single bite out of his. He took another bite out of the cookie, and watched as her excitement drained from her face, and she slumped her shoulders. He chuckled through a mouth full of crumbs, and shook his head.

"Here." He said, handing the cookie to her, her face lighting up as if she were a kid waking up on their birthday. She took the cookie as if it were a gift of great value, looking up at Jarvan with big eyes, a smile on her face. She then proceeded to devour the cookie as if her life depended on it. She let a happy smile escape as she swallowed the last crumbs, a content look on her face as she rubbed her belly happily.

"That... that was amazing." She said, breathlessly.

"Do dragons really like chocolate chip cookies that much?" Jarvan said, grinning at her.

"This one does." Shyvana said, grabbing his arm and lacing her fingers through his. She squeezed his hand and leaned against him, sighing contently as the rain came down around them.

_I suppose this is what normal couples do..._

He looked up towards the sky, a smile upon his face.

_I wish I could get used to this._


	26. Chapter 26: Wharf

The entrance to the wharf was well hidden, tucked away on one side of the city, well away from the more densely populated areas. It was dominated by what Jarvan could only guess was a fish market, and judging from the smell, he was right. Prominent trading companies rose up around the square, their gates standing open to allow delivery of wagons full of goods as men and women came and went. Goods flowed up and down the slope leading down to the docks, the sounds of men working and the screech of gulls along the canal reminded Jarvan of the docks back home. He had done many a tour through those docks, inspecting the men and cargo that flowed through the port, watching his men work with the sailors and ensuring nothing snuck into the city that didn't belong. He had fond memories of the Demacian docks, but looking around the Noxian wharf... this was a place of nightmares.

Rats scurried all along the streets and people simply cast garbage and waste upon the street like it was nothing. In the few minutes that Jarvan and Shyvana had been moving through the wharf, they had seen no less than three bodies lying in the gutter. It was a chilling realization of just how dedicated the Noxians were to their own mottos and creeds. 'Only the strong survive' took on a whole new meaning here among the lowest class of citizens, the bums and sailors regarded as nothing more than scum, no better than the garbage upon the ground.

Part of Jarvan hated them all for simply being Noxian, a sentiment he had been raised with, but he was also starting to resent them for the horrid treatment they put up with. He grimaced as they walked past another body lying in the gutter. Rats gnawed at the flesh that was left on the bone, the corpse so disfigured that Jarvan couldn't tell if it had been a man or woman. He did notice how the skull had been split open directly down the center, cleanly cleaved into two pieces down to the collar bone, only bits of stringy muscle holding the pieces together. Jarvan felt bile rise in his throat as he steered clear of the corpse and he could see Shyvana turning green as she covered her nose.

The docks smelled of sweat, dead fish and mold. It was an oppressive, cloying stench that hung in the air and your nostrils, like a fog that settled over the entire area. Jarvan was beginning to worry about Shyvana; he suspected that the smell was even worse for her, with her enhanced sense of smell thanks to her dragon side. She looked queasy, as if she were about to fall out, and she was beginning to sweat.

"Here." Jarvan said, handing her the water bottle from his belt. The dragoness accepted the bottle with only a nod, uncorking it and tilting it up, pouring some water into her mouth. She corked it back up and handed it back to him, the prince stopping to reattach it to his belt. "This was a bad idea." He said, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder, back towards the main city and the front gates.

"No..." Shyvana said weakly. Her face was pale, and despite the chilly air, sweat rolled down her face. "Let's just do this quickly." Jarvan frowned but nodded. He led her further through the docks, doing his best to avoid busy intersections where men tended to congregate, whistling and hounding the tired looking women who stood around. They acted as if they had goods to sell, but Jarvan knew they had were their bodies. Jarvan tried to snarl in disgust, the entire area making him sick to his stomach, but the snarl caught in his throat, becoming nothing more that a weak growl.

Jarvan recognized what was going on, the red lanterns hung around the streets confirming his suspicions as women led their tricks into shady looking love hotels and brothels. He grimaced, watching the men as they entertained themselves with cheap women and even cheaper booze, throwing away their money as if it was burning a hole in their pants.

"This is revolting." Shyvana said nasally, her hand held over her nose. Jarvan had seen many a battlefield that wasn't as daunting and scary as these docks. The smell reminded of the times he had spent working battlefields several days after combat, helping pile the decomposing bodies to be burned. It had been a chilling moment in his training.

"I know." Jarvan said, grimacing. "But this is what we fight against... This is the true face of Noxus." He was starting to reconsider his chances with the main gate, but the thought of squaring off with several hundred guardsmen wasn't exactly on his list of things to try out while in Noxus. They had been steadily reinforcing the main entrances to the city, and clamping down on the smaller entrances, the frustration the guards felt becoming evident as they down with a vengeance.

"I smell fear." Shyvana said, grimacing. "...Among other things. The entire city reeks of fear and the stench of death." She scrunched her nose up as she shivered, her face paling.

"In Demacia... we protect the faithful, and provide no quarter for the wicked." Jarvan said, disgust dripping from his words. "Here, they simply profit from it." He stopped at the top of the slope, a pair of mange ridden mules struggling to haul an overladen cart up through the mud, the driver cracking his whip angrily at the dying animal. Jarvan's stomach turned as he watched the animals suffering, working themselves to death out of fear of the whip.

"Such delicate creatures..." Shyvana said, watching as the wagon trundled past. Jarvan could see how she shifted her stance, her revulsion evident as she watched the cart move off. He read something else as she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and he could only guess that she felt pity for the animals, seeing a bit of herself in them; how she had been chased and hounded around Valoran for almost all of her life. Jarvan understood her hatred, and he was starting to realize just how sheltered he had been from the plight of these people. They were suffering at the hands of their own government, and it infuriated him even more.

"Tch." Jarvan said, turning back towards the slope that led to the main wharf. A platoon of guardsmen stood along the bottom of the incline, some of them standing around a burning barrel, warming their hands, others doing their best to pester the men and women who were trying to work. They busied themselves with stopping and questioning the last of the mid-morning traffic, most people heading to lunch or home for a meal. Jarvan paused, watching how they stopped people at random, though they also pocketed a fair amount of coin when people didn't wish to undergo the shakedown. Jarvan snorted in disgust, even the military was awash with moral rot and corruption.

"So, what are we doing here?" Shyvana asked, as she leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. She held one hand over her stomach, and Jarvan could see sweat beading on her forehead. She was paler than normal, almost a ghostly white in the overcast light. The humidity and rain wasn't helping her either, and the stench was starting to ferment in the standing water that had been gathering most of the morning. She pulled her hood back and wiped her brow, looking up at the rainy sky, the cool water running down over her face.

"Getting out of this city." Jarvan said with a grimace. "With the main gates all locked down... the easiest way out is going to be by ship."

"That'll be the easiest way?" She asked, apprehensive. Jarvan nodded, ducking back around the stone wall that rose up. He glanced over his shoulder, the streets already having cleared, only the taverns and pubs were seeing good business at this hour. Some men and women still tried to hawk their wares to the meager traffic that roamed the streets, but most people simply ignored the callers, their business elsewhere.

"It'll certainly be easier to deal with than having to fight our way through hundred of guards on the main thoroughfare." He noted her uneasiness, but turned back to the problem at hand.

_How to get rid of a platoon of guardsmen..._

Jarvan frowned as he looked down at the platoon of men. He counted fifteen in total, many of them gathered around a barrel that was burning, a canteen getting passed about. The possibility of alcohol made his prospects a bit more enticing, but it wasn't going to make a huge amount of difference in most cases. They would be clumsy and slow if they were intoxicated, but none of them looked to be getting to well gone.

"Would it be possible to simply go around?" Shyvana said, frowning. Jarvan blinked a few times, and frowned, unfurling his map. He looked at it intently for a few moments, before rolling it back up and shrugging. There were a few other entrances to the lower docks, but they were well protected by Guard posts, toll booths and fortifications. The was the weakest defended location, though it was also the tightest choke point to get through.

"This is the best entrance to the dock." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I suppose we could always just-..."

"Hey baby, you looking for a good time?" A trio of men called, moving towards Shyvana from the doorway of a tavern. As they grew closer, Jarvan could smell booze on them; they wreaked of cheap whiskey and rum. He frowned, it was barely after noon and these men were on the verge of collapsing from their drinks. Shyvana looked around, as if she didn't realize she was the target of their wolf whistles and hoots.

"Wha..." She started to say, blushing and backing away.

"Don't try to hide it, babe!" A one of the men drunkenly slurred. "With a pretty face like that, surely you've got a body to match!" Shyvana took a nervous step back, surprised by their comments, unsure of how to react. She felt trapped as her heel hit the wall, glancing left and right as if she was looking to escape.

"Back off!" Jarvan snarled, his face contorting with rage. The men didn't seem to take notice of his anger, approaching her, sloven looks upon their faces. Shyvana looked to Jarvan, surprised by his anger, but she dropped her head, shaking slightly, her crimson locks bouncing back and forth as water dripped over her face.

"Come on man..." they said, grins upon their faces. "Share the love... we just want to sample the fruit... we'll give her back... almost as good as new." They had drawn within striking distance now, and Jarvan's hand unconsciously raised to the lance he carried upon his back.

"By the blood of my father, I will end you." Shyvana looked up from under her hair, the crimson locks rustling as she seethed, the heat pouring from her body, steam starting to rise around her. She snarled at the men as they approached, stopping them dead in their tracks. She growled at them, her fangs barred as she looked up from against the wall, breathing heavily. She took a step forward, stomping her foot down, and the men paled.

"Whaaa... AH!" The men screamed and stumbled back, collapsing onto the ground. The man on the left and right scrambled away and sprinted off, one of them collapsing face first into the mud and then stumbling as he tried to get to his feet. Jarvan snorted as the man finally managed to stumble off, covered in mud from head to toe.

"Get out of the road!" A man atop a covered wagon shouted. Jarvan stepped back, frowning as the wagon trundled forward. One of the men who had approached them sat stunned amid the mud, just watching at the wagon approached. "Move!" The man shot Jarvan a dirty look as he hauled the man out of the mud.

* * *

"Ey-ey-ey, boys, I don't want anyone to know about my retirement." The lieutenant said with a frown. "Y-you guys keep your traps shut. Cause you know what they say: People in glass houses sink ships." The officer frowned, watching as his mates shook their heads laughing. "What?"

"Look, Ell-Tee, we really gotta get you a proverb book or something." One of the men said, still chuckling. "This mix and match stuff needs to go."

"A penny saved is worth two in the bush, isn't it?" One of his men said, shaking his head, wearing a grin.

"Don't cross the road, if you can't get out of the kitchen." Another said, laughing.

"Well..." The Lieutenant shrugged. "What can I say... Only the strong survive. Forever strong!" One of this men slapped the man's shoulder next to him, laughing.

"Damn, Lieutenant, you finally got one!" His men broke down into laughter. "Oi, incoming..." He straightened up and frowned, putting on his best angry face, trying to look menacing.

"Sir, this area is restricted to dock personnel and merchants only." He raised his weapon across his chest. The man on the cart raised his hand in a wave.

"I have all of my papers in order." The merchant said, raising an envelope in his hand. One of the guardsmen raised his hand and waved the man to hand them down. The merchant handed the papers over, sliding a pair of gold coins into the guards hand in a single smooth motion. The guard acted as if nothing had happened, pocketing the coin and then briefly glancing at the produced papers. "What with all the extra security today?"

"Just some routine inspections is all." The guard said, handing the man his papers back. "You're clear." He waved the cart on through, the men standing at arms before the cart letting the cart pass. They watched the cart trundle past, the bribe more than enough to get the man a free pass on the inspection. Corruption was simply part of daily life. The guard shrugged, returning to the fire barrel. He handed the coins over to his Lieutenant, nodding satisfactorily.

"More for the pot, eh LT?" A guard said, laughing. The LT nodded, pocketing the coin.

"Drinks on me tonight, boys." The Lieutenant said, grinning. He paused, gesturing to a man stumbling down the slope towards the guard's post.

"Thank god..." The man said, collapsing, out of breath. "You have to help me..." The guards exchanged glances and frowned at him. He was covered in mud and had a massive shiner growing on his cheek. "Two people and man and a woman..."

"Why don't you return to your drinks?" A guard sneered.

"You don't understand!" The drunk said, panting for breath. "They are hiding in that wagon!" He pointed weakly to the covered wagon that had just passed through guard post.

"Sure, and my mother's a yordle." One of the guards said chuckling. The men burst into laughter, many of them doubling over. The man on the ground looked as if he was about to burst into tears.

"Why the hell would anyone want to get into the docks?" The guard snorted. "Yeah, and I'll bet you're going to tell me one of them was the prince of Demacia." The men snorted and burst into laughter again. The man on the ground looked back and forth between the laughing soldiers, but the Lieutenant wore a serious expression.

"You've got to believe me!" The man stammered. "They said they were from Demacia!" The Lieutenant blinked and then went pale, remembering the briefing he had been given.

"Oh hell..." The lieutenant stammered, taking a step back. He scrabbled through his pocket, taking out a crumbled piece of paper. He flattened it out, and held it up to the fire light.

_'One man and one woman, both Demacian, may try to escape the city via the docks. Ensure no one without proper authorization gets to the docks. Signed, Captain Ragorn.'_

The lieutenant cursed and then shook his head, frustrated. "Robins, Azzil, Peotr, Haultner, Allyn, stay here and guard the road. Rest of you, follow me." He set off at a trot, some of the men looking confused, but they all fell into line with him, taking off towards the wharf, chasing after the wagon. The man on the ground pulled himself to his feet and started to walk away, the confused chatter of the guards that were left at the post starting to echo down the street.

"Where are you heading?" The guard called after him as he started to trudge up the hill.

"Me?" He stammered, pointing to himself. The guard sneered at him, nodding angrily. "I'm just heading back to get something I forgot..." He turned and took off up the hill.

"Damnit! Go after him!" The guard left in charge shouted to two of the lower ranking guardsmen. He frowned as they disappeared around the corner. "This is a nightmare..." The guard grumbled. He raised his weapon as a man rounded the corner, starting down the slope towards the post. "Eyes up, Azzil, Allyn."

"Halt!" Azzil shouted, the man trudging to a stop a few meters away from the guards. "What business do you have here?"

"I only want to pass." The man said, raising his hands. "I have papers."

"Remove your hood and approach slowly!" The guard said, his hand upon his weapon. The man approached, his hood drawn back to reveal a claw spiked helm, the golden color a deep bronze in the orange firelight. The guard paused for several moments, looking the man up and down, his eyes finally settling on the small crest that held his cloak closed around his neck.

"Oh... oh gods..." the guard said, stumbling backwards, quaking. "You're him... the escaped fighter..." His eyes had grown wide as saucers, his fellow guard wearing a surprised look on his face as he looked on, dumbstruck. "The Demacian..."

"There ya go." Jarvan said with a grin as he leaned forward.

"Where's his companion?" The other guard said, fumbling with his sword, trying to draw it from his belt.

Shyvana dropped from the wall, striking one of the guards on the shoulder with a hammer blow from her elbow, sending him crashing to the ground. She sunk low and swept her foot out, sending another crashing to the ground, the man yelping as he hit the ground, hard. She wheeled about and planted two quick strikes to the lower back as he hit the ground, sending him into convulsions. She spun and swept out with a kick, catching the third guard just below the chin, the strike lofting him and sending him crashing to the ground in a daze. She raised her arm above her head and brought the gauntlet down. The guard she had laid out first was trying to get to his feet, and the blow caught him square in the stomach; he retched, expelling all of air in his body, and he curled up into a ball, grasping at his chest as he tried to breathe. She planted a second blow on his cheek, the audible crunch of the blow sending a shiver through Jarvan's body.

He whistled, impressed as Shyvana straightened up and brushed the dust from her knees. "A bit overkill, but it'll do." Jarvan said as he leaned on his lance.

"Sorry." She said, tugging on her cloak slightly, blushing, still looking a bit faint. "I suppose I kinda got excited." She shook her head and looked back to the guards. Three men, each as big as Jarvan lay out on the ground, two of them knocked out, the third barely able to breath as he continued to retch.

"It's fine." Jarvan said, frowning at the man who still retched on the ground. Shyvana nodded as she adjusted her gauntlet. The weapon had come loose and she needed to tighten the strap a bit. The man who wasn't unconsciously finally stopped retching, but his breathing was still ragged.

"Wha-what do you want?" he said, his face pale as he lay on the ground, the other guards unconscious around him.

"Us?" Shyvana said, pointing to herself. The man nodded silently as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did. Only the sound of rain drops striking the helmets of the men that lay upon the ground broke the silence as Jarvan and Shyvana glanced at each other. Shyvana bent over, grinning toothily, showing off her long fangs.

"We're only trying to pass through." She said, the man pushing himself weakly away from her. Jarvan raised the butt of his lance and swung it like a club, knocking one of the men out as he groaned and started to turn over in the mud, his helmet ringing like a struck bell. The man who had been retching fell silent, gulping audibly as he shuffled backwards along the ground. Jarvan raised his lance and spun it about, driving it down right between the man's legs. He yelped and then slumped backwards suddenly, leaving Jarvan surprised.

"I think... I think he just fainted..." Jarvan said slowly, blinking as he nudged the man with his foot. "He did faint." Jarvan said, shaking his head. Shyvana chuckled softly, elbowing Jarvan gently in the gut.

"It's your face." She said, smiling coyly. "I may be the beast... but you're a monster yourself when you're angry." Jarvan frowned at her, but simply shook his head, water dripping down his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, Miss Dragon-girl." Jarvan said wearing an annoyed expression, shouldering his lance and the bag he had dropped earlier. He frowned, the canvas bag dripping as water rolled off of it. "Let's go." Shyvana nodded, falling into step with him as they continued towards the docks. The hung an immediate right and made for the ships in berth along the wharf. They passed multiple warehouses, most of them chained shut, and more than one looking as if the entire roof had fallen through.

"This place is a disaster." Jarvan said, shaking his head. Shyvana donned her hood and Jarvan pulled his hoods down over his eyes as a cart trundled past. Dockworkers and sailors wandered about, some of them looking for new berths upon ships or work within the port. Here and there officials dressed in the Noxian Guard colors of red and black shooed men who were looking for work. One of them eyed Jarvan and Shyvana momentarily, but he dismissed them as they headed towards the waterfront.

"Are all ports like this?" Shyvana said, watching the men move about carrying boxes and bags of goods, the rain hardly hampering their work.

"Similar, I suppose." Jarvan said, shrugging. "But most of them aren't nearly this... dirty."

"That's one word for it..." Shyvana said, stepping over a dead rat. She shriveled her nose and shook her head, a beggar holding a cup out towards her. She started to stop, looking at Jarvan, but he put and arm around her shoulders and pushed her on, shaking he head discreetly.

"Best not to stop." Jarvan said. "Blend in and they won't stop us... unfortunately that means ignoring most other people."

"We hardly blend in..." Shyvana said, frowning.

"We don't stand out from other privateers." Jarvan said, gesturing at a pair of men who stood against a wall, talking amongst themselves. "It's not uncommon for shipping companies to hire privateer vessels to escort their trade ships through the dangerous waters. The canals aren't problematic... open water is dangerous though." The men returned Jarvan's nod and returned to their conversation as Jarvan and Shyvana passed.

"I see..." She said, as they finally approached the ships that lined the wharf. Derricks unloaded heavy cargo and men struggled to carry all sorts of other goods and materials from the holds of large ships that sat moored in the narrow harbor.

"And now to stow away on a ship and we'll be out of here." Jarvan said, frowning as he paused at the docks. Men swarmed about the area, loading barrels and and bags onto a large ship. Jarvan pulled Shyvana aside, skirting towards the edge of the docks, but keeping an eye on the business that was being conducted along the docks, looking for a ship that would departing immediately, but wasn't heavily guarded.

He paused at the top of a dirty set of steps leading down towards the waters edge. He peered over the edge and grinned, a narrow path leading along the edge of the water, heavy beams protecting the moored ships from the stones of the wharf.

"Down here." Jarvan said, pulling Shyvana forward, the Dragoness clearly uncomfortable around the water. He smiled reassuringly, taking her hand. "Don't worry, I have a plan." She wore a frown but accepted his hand and disappeared down the narrow path with him.

* * *

"Hurry and get those barrels loaded." A massively fat man shouted, his bright red beard quivering over top his jowls. He shook his head as he watched a man drop a barrel, the cask splitting open and spilling a cream colored powder over the stone flagons. The man groaned, his great belly quivering as he ran a sweaty hand over his head. "I need some grog..."

"Hired help these days." A tall gangly man, said, his voice muffled by the bandages that wrapped his body. He watched with disinterest as the men quarreled, trying to place the blame on one another, many of them raising their fists as if they were going to fight.

"This had better not push back my departure time." The fat man growled, looking over at the man who had crossed his arms, the limbs deathly thin. The man was the polar opposite to the fat man. Deathly thin but built like hardened steel, the man was quiet and moved with direction. "I paid good money for this ingredients, and I expect them to be delivered in full."

"Worry not, I brought a bit extra in case anything happened." The thin man said as he flagged a few men down and gestured to another barrel that sat on the stone quay. "If you have a problem with anything else..."

"No, this'll do." The massive man said, waving the men away, tossing back some brew from a large flask that he had produced from somewhere. He wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his hand, grunting as he bent over. He hefted the barrel as if it weighed nothing, and strode towards the gangway, men watching as they struggled to load the last of the heavy barrels.

"Get the rest of that loaded! We leave in five." The captain shouted from the deck, as the large man trundled across the gangway, the wooden planks groaning under his weight as he made his way onto the ship.

"I appreciate the business, Gragas." The tall, bald man said, rolling up his manifest and tucking it away. The large man waved his hands dismissively with a ripple of fat, grinning as the last barrel was loaded, the two men carrying the barrel struggling over the gangway.

"Singed." Gragas nodded in his direction, watching as men scrambled to unmoor the ship, the large vessel rocking in the shallow waters."Last call!" He shouted as the captain turned towards him.

"It's nearly time." The man wrapped in bandages said, waving the last of his men aside as they scurried over the gangway. "Smooth seas, captain." The plank retracted as the ship groaned as the sails unfurled, the sailors scurrying about the ship ensuring the rigging was in order. The canals may be wide, but they were also treacherous. Gragas had already disappeared from the deck of the ship, off to ensure his cargo was stowed and secured, the ingredients for his precious brew now deep in the hold of the ship. The captain took over, barking orders and directing the helmsman towards the canal that would lead them around the city and on towards the Guardian's Sea.

* * *

Deep below the deck of the ship, Jarvan watched from behind a row of barrels as the fat man waddled along the hold. He had only done a cursory inspection, counting his barrels and making sure he had gotten his money's worth of goods. He grumbled to himself as he took a long pull from his flask and wiped his chin, shaking his head. He headed for the stairs that led to the upper decks, leaving Jarvan and Shyvana alone in the hold. Jarvan paused, pushing the gun port they had come aboard through open again. It had been enlarged at some point to help with the loading and unloading of cargo, and then sealed shut. Jarvan had easily pried it open with his knife though, the weak braces snapping with enough pressure. Seeing as no alarm had been raised, he had assumed no one had noticed then boarding.

"Alright, strip down and put everything in here." Jarvan said as the ship cleared the walls of the city, handing Shyvana a burlap sack. Shyvana blushed furiously, taken aback by his abruptness. She held her hands over her chest as she turned slightly to the side.

"What, here?" She said, flustered. Jarvan paused and looked at her.

"That's not what I meant!" Jarvan hissed, shaking his head, running a hand over his face. "Your armor and stuff, just... put it in the bag." Shyvana blushed but nodded and quickly disrobed, stowing all of her gear into the sack and then handing it to Jarvan. All she was left with was a loose tunic and her skivvies.

"Mind explaining what we're doing?" Shyvana said, shivering, hugging her arms around herself, frowning at Jarvan. He paused what he was doing, looking up at her and blushing a deep crimson red and then busied himself with tying the various sacks closed. He was left with four bundles: Shyvana's armor, their supplies, his armor, and their weapons. He stood up, nodding to himself and then checked the hold, looking for anyone who may have gotten curious as to why a gun port was open. Satisfied that the hold was clear of any other souls, he turned back to Shyvana.

"We're getting off here." Jarvan said he leaned over the railing, looking down the canal for a secluded spot. So far, most of the river had been lined with open fields and razor weed, but Jarvan knew the banks would soon clear. "We don't need to go far outside the city, and we're clear of the area extensively patrolled by the Noxian City Guard."

"And how are we going to do that?" Shyvana said, frowning. "I don't think the crew of this ship will just let us stroll up to the deck and stop the ship to disembark." She eyed Jarvan as he picked up a bag by the sling and rocked it back and forth. He released the bag, sending it hurling out the gun port towards the shore. "Hey wait! Are you crazy?"

Jarvan leaned out the gun port and grinned as he looked about. He pointed towards where the bag sat perched on the shore, a short ways back along the edge of the canal. Jarvan heaved the other three bags out in quick succession, making sure they all landed well back from the water.

"This is ridiculous..." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "What are we going to do now if we're discovered?You just tossed our armor and weapons." She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at Jarvan.

"Don't worry." Jarvan said, grinning tightly. "We're not sticking around." He took Shyvana's hand and pulled her too him, wrapping her in his arms.

"Jarvan?" She said curiously, blushing furiously, her body pressed to his bare chest.

"Get ready..." He said, ducking his head and leaning back out of the gun port, looking up the canal.

"Wait!" Shyvana said, starting to piece together what Jarvan was doing. "Jarvan, wait!"

"Time to go!" He said, as he fell backwards, taking Shyvana with him as he went backwards out the gun port.

"I can't swim!" Shyvana practically screamed as they went over the edge and started falling.

Jarvan's mouth was ajar in shock as they broke the surface of the water.


	27. Chapter 27: Sanctuary

_Darkness... so dark... so cold... _

_So alone..._

Shyvana opened her eyes, looking around, quickly realizing that the pressure she felt on her chest was water crushing down on her from all sides. She twisted about as she looked for Jarvan, the prince nowhere to be scene, his warm embrace absent from around her. She slowly realized that if she was underwater then she was going to die.

Shyvana suddenly felt as if she was getting twisted about in a whirlwind, the water swirling about her as she thrashed about, trying to get to the surface of the water. A light shimmered above her, but no matter how hard she thrashed she couldn't get any closer to the surface, it only got dimmer and dimmer. Her heart raced, the pounding drum of her heart beat in her ears was only drowned out by the roar of the murky water that seemed to toss her about like she was nothing. She kicked her legs frantically, the sensation of being surrounded by water simply overwhelming her. She clawed at her throat as it started to burn, but she only got a mouth full of water when she tried to gasp for air.

Once before she had felt this panic, the water trapping her, invading her space and caressing her skin with that deathly cold embrace. She tried to cry out, but she could only hear the sound of herself screaming in her own head. The burble of the last of her air drifted out of her mouth as she tried to scream in terror, the icy claw of death slowly beginning to wrap it's fingers around her as her legs began to burn. She felt her body growing heavier and heavier as she began to sink, her throat burning as water rushed through her open mouth. Her chest began to burn as her lungs filled with water and her arms slowly stopped moving, the weight of the water around her dragging her down like so many demons dragging her down to hell.

As her entire body began to feel heavier and heavier, a certain sense of peace descended over her, and memories began to flash before her eyes. Her father, Jarvan, Noxus and the dreams of Demacia all raced past her as her vision began to grown dark, the shimmering surface like a broken mirror where rain drops still fell. She felt as if she could still simply reach out and touch it, if only her arms weren't made of lead.

Shyvana closed her eyes and felt at peace with the world as darkness embraced her with open arms.

* * *

Jarvan surfaced, spluttering as he treaded water, the cold piercing deep into his bones. He wiped his long black hair from his face and swiped the water from his eyes as he rode the wash as the ship moved on down the canal. White surf washed at the shore as he looked around, scanning the reeds and the surface of the water for the ghostly white skin or brilliant red hair that belonged to Shyvana.

"Shyvana!" He tried to shout, the fear of what his stupidity had caused clenched around his chest like the icy water he tried to stay afloat in. His voice caught in his throat as he coughed and spluttered as he struggled to stay afloat in the dirty water. He paused, listening to the sound of the water hitting the shore in the wake of the ship, hoping to hear some reply or have her break the surface and frown at him.

"SHYVANA!" He cried again as the surface of the water finally began to settle. He looked about, becoming frantic. His chest was beginning to burn, the cold water sapping the life from him, but the thought of what he had just done was already setting in. He began to panic as he thrashed about, looking along the banks, further down the canal. He wasn't sure if tears were stinging his eyes or if it was the water he floated in as he boobed on the surface.

"Damnit..." He said aloud, his voice cracking as he struggled to stay calm. "No, no, no..." Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, the placid gray clouds above beginning to turn an angry black as if the heavens above were angry at him. He scanned the surface as the water became placid, looking for anything, anything at all. Only the rippled from his own movements and the smallest of raindrops disturbed the mirror like surface.

Then he saw it. A small cloud of bubbles rose to the surface, their ripples gently breaking the water.

Jarvan felt as if he could simply run across the surface of the water as he raced to get to the spot where the bubbles had surfaced. He took a deep breath and then dived, his eyes burning against the murky water as he looked for any sign of the dragoness. He kicked and stroked as hard as he could, struggling to get deeper and deeper into the water, his chest began to burn as he continued searching the water.

One hand hit mud, but the other hit something solid. He grasped what felt like wet silk, pale skin standing out against the water like the moon in the night sky. Shyvana sat upon he bottom of the canal, her body listing just above the mud, the water swirling her hair around her face like fire upon the bottom of the canal. He grabbed the fabric of Shyvana's tunic and pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her chest before putting his feet on the mud and kicking off, propelling himself towards the surface. He saw the glassy surface shimmering, the rain drops starting to pick up as his vision began to grow dark, his chest on fire, screaming at him to gasp for breath. He resisted the urge, the shimmering surface just above him as he kicked and stroked with one hand, the other wrapped protectively around Shyvana's torso.

He broke the surface and gasped for breath, the air tasting like a gift of the gods as his heart pounded and he pulled Shyvana's head clear of the surface. He could feel his teeth chattering, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and began slowly paddling his way towards the shore. Shyvana's body was cold and still, and there was a sense of dread that had settled in his stomach like he had been punched. Still treading water as best he could, Jarvan tilted Shyvana's head back and pinched her nose, cupping his mouth over hers. He blew cool air into her mouth, and then quickly repeated the action, watching as he body rose out of the water slightly. He released her and felt the air slowly release, her body starting to drift back down. Jarvan quickly took two massive strokes with his left hand, his right still wrapped protectively around her body. He continued kicking rapidly, trying to get as close to the shore as he could. He paused, continuing to tread water, though he could feel the mud just out of reach below him. He pulled Shyvana forwards again, tilting her head back and blowing into her mouth til her chest inflated.

Jarvan repeated this process till he finally dragged Shyvana from the canal, his arm wrapped around her chest as he struggled up the muddy shore, his teeth chattering as he tried to stand in the knee deep water. He could feet mud squishing up around his ankles as he grasped at the razor weed, trying to slog his way through he mud and onto dry land. He felt a sticky warm sensation on his hand as he struggled onto the shore, his hand sliced up by the weeds. He grunted as he finally made it onto solid ground, the reeds stabbing and slashing at his body as he pulled Shyvana up out of the water. He grunted; his arms and legs felt as if he had been running for hours, not treading water for a handful of minutes. He pulled Shyvana clear of the razor weeds, trying to keep her from getting sliced up too much, but he could already feel a hundred little cuts forming on his skin.

"Okay... okay..." Jarvan said, dropping to his knees next to Shyvana as he laid her flat on her back, the pain in his limb getting shoved aside as he struggled to keep a calm head. "Gotta continue rescue breathing..." He said quietly. He checked her mouth and throat for anything that could be blocking it, but there wasn't anything in her throat. He carefully check for any blockages with one finger, but he couldn't feel anything: no weeds, seaweed, nothing of the sort. He leaned over Shyvana and tilted her head back, cupping his mouth over hers and held her nose shut, blowing a breath into her mouth, her chest not rising up. He held three fingers together and pressed it into the left side of her neck, trying to find a pulse. He tried for several seconds, but the icy claw around his chest tightened down when he couldn't find a pulse. He resumed the rescue breathing, waiting for five seconds to pass between every breath. He continued on for a full minute, repeating the cycle over and over. He watched for her chest to rise, but when nothing happened he sat back on his haunches.

"Okay... compressions..." He said to himself, desperately fighting to keep himself calm. He ran a hand through his hair, clearing the dirty black locks that was plastered to his face. He tilted her head back so that her chin was pointing straight up.

He place his right hand on her chest directly between her breasts and laced his left hand through his right hand. He took a deep breath, calming himself before forcing her chest down almost the thickness of his hand. He repeated this rapidly for twenty seconds before he paused and administered two more deep breaths. He laced his hands together again and had just compressed her chest against when Shyvana coughed up a mouth full of water and gasped for breath. She rolled over and coughed deeply, hacking up more water an continued gasping for breath.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan gasped, falling backwards onto his arse, blinking rapidly. He wore a look of surprise as she finally lay back, breathing deeply. "Oh god." He said, moving up onto his knees, watching as Shyvana's chest rose and fell as rain began to fall around them.

"Idiot!" She greeted him with a slap that snapped his head about, her scorning easily hot enough to melt steel. "You are... You are an idiot." She said as she nearly tackled him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Jarvan felt lightheaded as lay back, just letting the warm sensation that had begun to melt the icy hand around his heart spread through his body. Shyvana nuzzled his chest, as her shoulders shook.

"I know..." Jarvan said solemnly, letting the burning sensation on his cheek sink in, the pain serving as a reminder as to the price he had nearly paid for his recklessness.

"You are utterly insufferable!" She said, practically shaking. He could hear her voice wavering as she beat her hands against his chest. "I will end you myself if you ever do something so... so... so stupid again!" She practically bawled, her face all screwed up as she tried not to burst into tears.

"I know." Jarvan said, dropping his gaze to the dirt in front of him as he shook his head, anger at himself beginning to well up as he started cursing his stupid plan. "I didn't think about it... I just... I assumed..." He fumbled over his words as he tried to keep himself from tearing up. His shoulders started to shake as he ducked his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry... you have no idea how sorry I am..." He tried to say, but his voice got caught in his throat.

"Idiot!" Shyvana said softly, her stifled sobs slowly dying down as She wiped at her face. Jarvan stroked her neck gently, hoping the gesture would help calm her. The very act of touching her, and feeling the movement in her body was enough to calm him, the thought of her pale, unmoving body still burned into his memory. He shivered as rain started to fall harder, washing mud and sediment from his face. He was content just to sit there, still stroking her neck quietly, her body pressed against his.

Shyvana wiped tears from her face as she pushed herself up into a sitting position atop him, sniffing as she tried to wipe the water from her soaked hair and face. "Next time.. can we avoid the water?"

"How about I just teach you to swim?" Jarvan said, chuckling as she looked up at him with large eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted as the adrenaline finally subsided from his system. Shyvana frowned at him, she couldn't help but smile. The adrenaline draining from their bodies left them both giddy, both of them riding the feeling and the swirl of emotion that followed. Shyvana shook her head and sighed heavily.

"Twenty years of my life was spent wandering Valoran getting chased by a bloodthirsty dragon and I was never in this much trouble." She said, sitting up and sliding from Jarvan's lap. She wrapped her arms around her legs as she hugged them to her body, shivering, still pressed up against Jarvan as he sat up. "And in barely two months you've managed to get yourself into multiple brawls, nearly burned to a crisp, captured by the Noxians, almost assassinated, and not to mention you actually _DIED_ during all this." Shyvana spit him with a molten glare, and Jarvan could only grin sheepishly. "You've gotten me chased in a city wide manhunt, captured by the Noxians, forced into almost killing you and now I've nearly drowned twice..." Her voice tapered off as she shook her head and looked at Jarvan. She wore a sour expression but she struggled to keep the smile from tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Jarvan hung his head. "If you have a problem with all of that..." His voice tapered off as he felt Shyvana wrap her arms around his neck. She held him tightly for a few minutes, her face nuzzled against his neck. "We can always just head to Demacia now if you..." Shyvana leaned further over his shoulder, pushing his face towards her. She pressed her lips to his, taking him by surprise, but she held him fast.

"Don't say something you might regret." She purred, finally pulling back. She tasted spicy, though her skin was cold to the touch. She smiled softly at him. "And next time... just tell me if you're going to do something that dumb." Shyvana smirked at him as he tried to give her an innocent expression. She tapped him on the head as she tried to stand, her legs collapsing underneath of her. "I guess that really took more out of me that I thought..." She said weakly, leaning against Jarvan.

"No kidding..." Jarvan said, getting to his feet, supporting her as he did. He grunted, his legs still felt like lead. "Come on, up we go."

"Wait, what are you... whoa!" She said, surprised as Jarvan swept her up in his arms.

"There's another reason I wanted to get off here." Jarvan said with a small grin. He started moving inland as Shyvana wrapped an arm around his shoulder and looked backwards to the shore line. "Not all of this plan was quite as foolish."

"What about our armor and gear?" She said, looking at Jarvan and then up at the sky. The rain had picked up slightly, though it was still hardly more than a heavy drizzle. She pouted when he simply grinned at her, ducking as he pushed through a wall of willow. He paused, looking over the hidden pool, the spray of a waterfall disturbing the surface of the water.

"What is this place?" Shyvana said quietly, almost reverently as she looked around the hidden sanctuary. Jarvan lowered her to her feet, supporting her with an arm around her waist, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked around taking in the beauty of the falls. Wildflowers still grew along the base of the rock walls, and the water looked like crystal compared to the murky brown canal.

"One of the old hunters I talked to told me about this spot." Jarvan said, watching the look of amazement play over Shyvana's face. "It's a fishing spot mostly, but the water here is spring fed and sometimes people use it to swim in during the heat of the summer."

"It's not exactly Shurima out here." Shyvana said, raising an eyebrow at Jarvan as he chuckled. The sky was still overcast and gray, but Jarvan was happy to note the storms in the distance had skirted around the area towards the south, and the rain didn't look to be getting any heavier.

"Yeah, but at least it's not the Freljord either." Jarvan said with a smirk. "We can get cleaned up and then stay here tonight without having to worry about the Noxian Guards finding us." He grinned as Shyvana looked up at him with a smile on her face.

"After that little dunk in the canal thanks to you..." Shyvana said, the smile turning into a smirk, "I'm starting to miss the desert in Shurima." Jarvan chuckled as he shook his head.

"These rainstorms are just Valoran telling us that she's preparing for winter." Jarvan said with a grin. "When winter comes... that'll be fun." Jarvan said with a grin. "Have you ever been ice skating before?"

"What's ice skating?" Shyvana said, looking up at him, blinking. She brushed some of the muddy locks of red hair from her face as Jarvan grinned. Jarvan led her around the falls, to where a cave went back a short ways in the rocks. It was dry, with soft moss covering much of the rocks along the bottom.

"Just one more thing I'll have to show you in the future." Jarvan said with a grin. "Here..." He helped her down, setting her down on the moss. "I'll be back shortly with our gear."

"I can help you with that." Shyvana said, grabbing his arm and trying to pull herself to her feet. She nearly made it, but her legs still felt like jelly beneath her, and she frowned as she nearly tumbled back to the ground. Jarvan caught her by the waist and then hauled her up carefully.

"Steady now..." He said gently, helping her stay standing. He started to move his arm away but she yelped and nearly collapsed. Jarvan grinned as he lowered her to the ground. "Just take it easy." He said, a hand affectionately on her shoulder. "I got you into the mess, at least let me try to start and make it up to you."

Shyvana puffed out a cheek as if she was pouting, but she couldn't keep the sour expression long. Jarvan matched her smile and then turned and headed back towards the shore in search of their gear. Shyvana shivered as she hugged her legs to her chest again as she watched him disappear through the wall of willow. She turned her gaze back to the cave and the sanctuary that was laid out around her. Seeing all this, it was hard to believe they were so close to the abominable city of Noxus.

The small pool was protected by the cliff behind and above her and a wall of trees around the rest of the area. Thick undergrowth kept most of the pool completely hidden from the canal and the outside world, the cool spring water coming from some of the mountains off in the distance. The cool spray sometimes hit her toes as she wriggled them in the soft moss that grew underfoot. The entire area was cold, the shade and the cool breeze was comfortable though, if a bit chilly. Shyvana felt her eyes grow heavy as she shivered.

"I hate water." Shyvana muttered as she stood up carefully and closed her eyes. She concentrated on raising her body temperature, and she could feel the air around her begin to warm. She felt the tickle of flames dancing along her skin as the flames she summoned warmed and dried her. She pulled the braid from her hair with some effort, and then let it get carried about by the warm air, the heat causing it to billow about her like it was dancing. Shyvana could feel the air around her swirling like the warm Shurima winds. The cotton fabric against he skin that had been cold and clammy was now dry and warm. She smiled to herself as she lowered herself down to the moss again, her knees still shaky, the simple act of being dry serving to keep her much warmer. She wrapped her legs to her chest again to preserve her warmth, and let her cheek rest against her knees as she waited for Jarvan to return.

She sighed happily, letting her breathing become long and slow as she felt herself drift off to sleep, letting her mind wander to stave of the loneliness she felt without Jarvan.

* * *

Shyvana awoke to find the warm sun above her, shining down upon her pale skin and warming her. She rolled onto her back, shielding her eyes as she watched the few thin clouds in the sky above roll lazily on past. She closed her eyes again and sighed, writhing about happily in the warm sunlight.

"Is it the sunlight that you enjoy or is it that feeling in your heart?" A deep voice said from somewhere behind her. Shyvana opened her eyes, surprised by the voice. It was familiar, one she had heard many times, but it sent a shiver down her spine. She sat up, brushing sand from her shoulders and shaking it from her hair as she looked about, the orange hills and the jagged yellow peaks of Shurima rising up around her. Clouds of dust writhed in the distance along the horizon, a towering dust twister spinning voraciously as the sands of the desert shifted in the wind.

"Do my ears deceive me?" Shyvana said, shaking her head and looking about. "Surely..."

"Surely what, child?" The dragon rumbled a small chuckle, the sound enough to cause the massive sandstone plinth to shake beneath her rump. Shyvana spun, the look upon her face that of shock.

"Father?" She said, blinking rapidly. "But... how..." She breathed, slowly getting to her feet. Her father grinned at her, baring massive fangs, each as large as her head. He laughed happily as tears welled in her eyes and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his scaly neck. "Oh father!" He held her close with one massive, clawed arm, his leathery wings sweeping along through the dust as he drew her close in a hug.

"Now, now." He said, chuckling, the deep rumble slowly dying and turning into a deep bass timbre, very easy on the ears, a voice that Shyvana had heard many times before. "Calm yourself, child." He said, stroking her hair with a strong hand. Her father stood not much taller than she did, though he was solidly built as a human. His skin was almost a bronze color from the constant sunlight that shone down upon him, and his dirty brown hair was tousled back like it had always been. I looked like a lion's mane as it glimmered in the sunlight. "How have you been?"

"I've missed you father..." Shyvana said, shaking her head as she tried to hide the tears. She wiped them upon her tunic, shaking her head as Her father held her at arms length, looking her up and down.

"You've put on a little weight." He said, smiling affectionately. "There is also something else... something different..." Her looked her up and down, his piercing red eyes looking through her as if he could read everything about her.

"I've been traveling father." She said shaking her head, blushing slightly. "The foods I've eaten, the people I've met... It's been overwhelming to say the least!" She blustered as she tried to stand up taller, as if she wanted to hide something. Her father met her gaze though, and she could feel him reading her like a book.

"Our journeys about Valoran were not as such?" Faust said, chuckling. He gestured towards the stone as he lowered himself down to the ground, leaning back to take in the sun as he did.

"Hardly, father." She said, shaking her head. "Human society is fascinating, I'd wished I'd had the chance to experience it before." Her father frowned, the glimmer in his eye dimming slightly as he suddenly looked very haggard like the years had suddenly settled on his shoulders. Shyvana only caught it for a brief moment, but she immediately regretted saying it. She was overjoyed at being able to see her father, and she didn't want to ruin it with a callous comment.

"It was one of my greatest regrets in raising you the way I did..." He said softly. "That I was unable to let you experience the many beauties and eccentricities that civilization is able to provide." Shyvana shook her head, sighing sadly.

"It's not your fault father..." She started to say, but he held up a hand to forestall her comments.

"There was much I was unable to do for you, my daughter." He said, sitting up, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent sigh. "I just hope that you've found someone that can provide for those many things that I was unable to provide." Shyvana blushed deeply, averting her eyes.

"He is a good man." She said, quietly, nervously, as if she was seeking his approval.

"And surely a brave one if he is willing to face the heart of a Dragon so willingly." He said with a grin. Shyvana blushed again, and he chuckled deeply. He cast an arm around her shoulders, watching her carefully as she squirmed beneath his firm arm. "Love is a powerful emotion, Shyvana." Her father said, looking up at the sky. "And while it is powerful, and can warm the heart, it can also burn, just like the flames you wield, young one." Shyvana nodded her head quietly, looking at her open palms.

"I love him, father." She said quietly, still looking at her palms. Hearing herself say those words caused color to flood to Shyvana's cheeks and her heart to swell. "Is it so wrong of me to love a human?" She looked up at him with large eyes, unsure of herself. Faust looked deep into her eyes though, and within the swirling magenta orbs that sought his approval, there was a fire. He had to look deep past all the other emotion that she let swirl forward, but deep within those eyes he could see the burning defiance, the anger just beneath the surface. Part of him was proud for this defiance, that ability to question the world and defy the authority that would have her simply become a trophy or pet to some rich business man or noble. He was glad to see that she wouldn't be just another one to get abused and pushed about by the humans. He smiled as he shook his head.

"I loved your mother, young one." He said, laughing fondly. "And she was very much human." His gaze seemed to settle somewhere far off in the distance, as if he was looking through time at some fond memory. "Humans may not always share our strength or wisdom... but they are a passionate race." He said softly. Shyvana could see the memories were conflicting him as he watched the sky.

"He is strong, father." Shyvana said, smiling to herself. "Much stronger than I. He is proud and good of heart, despite the quarrels he has with some." Her father nodded, smiling.

"I'm sure, child." He said, tousling her hair gently. She grinned happily, glowing at the affection her father showed her. "He sounds like a good man... but..."

"But, father?" Shyvana said, shriveling up her nose as she watched him. "You doubt my love for him?"

"Heavens no, child." Her father said, laughing. "I can read it in your eyes, your face, and your stance when you speak of him." He shook his head, looking at her as she watched him intently. "There is much you need to know though... there are things that other men will hate you for, despise you, hunt you. And they are things that you cannot control." He paused, watching the shadow of a cloud cross the barren desert. "He is one man, and no matter his heart, power, position... he is still only one man. Humans are afraid of you, afraid of the power you possess, simply because they cannot control it. That is human nature; they are afraid of the power they cannot control or possess, and your strength, child, it is one of great power."

"I know, father." Shyvana said, quietly flexing her hand. She had come to realize just how frail humans were compared to the likes of herself, but she also knew that she had her own weaknesses. She shivered at the thought of the watery grave she had been so close to assuming.

"I only hope your heart is ready for the pain that this may bring." He said quietly. "It won't be easy... not at all."

"I know, father." She said, looking up at him with fire in her eyes. She shook her head, crimson locks bouncing around her. "And I don't care." He looked at her, a proud smile on his face.

"That's my girl..." He said quietly. "I'm proud of you, young one." He slowly got to his feet, as if he was beginning to feel the hundred of years of wear and tear than he had put his body through. He looked down at his daughter, a smile on his face that carried into his eyes. It was a serene, peaceful smile that Shyvana had never seen upon his face, not while he was alive. The thought made her sad, but at the same time, she was also proud of herself. She got to her feet, looking up at the hardened features of her father as he looked off into the distance. She followed his gaze, but there was only sand and dust. Faust, a celestial dragon, her father, stood quietly watching the rolling desert.

"Shyvana?"

She looked up at him, but his gaze was not upon her, his jaw firmly set. She blinked, trying to figure out if she had been hearing things.

"Shyvana!" The voice came again, this time, more distant, though it seemed to echo around her, bouncing back and forth around the mountains in the distance. She rubbed her eyes, looking up to her father. He looked down at her and smiled, as she opened her mouth to speak.

"He's calling for you, young one." Her father said quietly, gesturing upwards. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. She started to tear up as she reached out towards him, trying to wrap him up in another hug, but he was gone, the orange and gold sands replaced with dark stone and moss, the sound of the winds of Shruima replaced with the crashing water hitting rock. She blinked as she rubbed her eyes, looking around for her father. He hands came away wet, and she blinked again, a tear streaming down her cheek.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan said, a worried look on his face as he gently shook her shoulder. She blinked a few more times, pushing herself into a sitting position. A blanket fell forward off her chest, an she looked about confused. Her gaze settled on Jarvan, the gentle orange flicker of a fire illuminating his face against the dark sky beyond him.

"I... I..." She shook her head. "I'm fine... just a dream." She said, exhaling as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Jarvan said, a worried frown crossing his face. Shyvana nodded as she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she breathed in and out. She shook her head, clearing her mind, and trying to put the sadness aside as she pushed her self into a sitting position. She took the blanket that was lain over her and wrapped it around her shoulders, the chilly night air swirling around her. She breathed deeply, the warmth of her father had felt so real, but part of her had known that it wasn't true. Her shoulders sunk as she looked up and smiled at Jarvan. The gesture didn't do much to calm the worried look he still carried; he could see through the gesture.

"It was a good dream." She said quietly, hugging her legs to her chest. She stared into the fire for a few moments, letting the dancing flames calm her nerves. She sighed, the rise and fall of her shoulders seeming to placate Jarvan slightly. He sat back, still frowning, but he was silent. He turned his gaze from her and back to the fire. Silence followed, only the sound of the last summer crickets, the crackle of the fire, and the pounding of water on the rocks bellow to break said silence.

Shyvana watched Jarvan's face as he stared into the fire, the sad feeling she still felt slowly dissolving the more she watched. Her father's warning played out in her mind, about the warning of men who would follow in his wake, how society would view her as what she was, an object to be feared and cast out. She shivered. It was a very real fear she felt, and despite the desire she felt to remain by his side, there was little doubt that she would eventually lose him, be it to old age or another woman. She tried not to let tears form in her eyes, but she could feel her heart take a dive. She shivered at the thought, knowing that some day, Jarvan would die and she would be alone again.

She stared intently into the fire, the flames prancing about like firehawks above their prey in the Shurima desert. She stared at the blue flames that licked the wood and the orange tendrils that rose up, strands of pale smoke drifting up into the sky.

There was an unease that followed her now, a doubt about their future. It felt like darkness in her heart, uncertainty about what was to come.

_Fear..._

She shivered, drawing the blanket closer around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and tried to banish the fear that seemed to surround her heart, but part of her was unable to banish that fear. She opened her eyes and looked to wear Jarvan was. She froze, blinking a few times, surprised.

_Where'd he go?_

She got to her feet and looked about, the unable to find him amid the harsh shadows that the firelight cast upon the rocks and the water.

"Jarvan?" She said, drawing the blanket closer around her. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, the other still holding the blanket around her shoulders as she gazed about. "Jarvan!"

The crunch of leather on rock caused her to jump, nearly toppling forward into the pool. Jarvan dried his hair and face with a towel that he had produced from somewhere, wrapping it over his shoulders, holding an end in each hand as he gazed up at her from the water's edge.

"Shyvana... what-whoa!" She practically tackled him, his arms flailing about as he struggled to keep himself from going over backwards into the pool as the dragoness wrapped her arms around his neck. He plucked both the towel and the blanket from the air and then wrapped his arms around Shyvana's waist, holding her tight as she buried her face in his neck. "I only stepped away for a moment to rinse my face..." Jarvan said quietly, chuckling softly to hide his surprise.

"I just..." Shyvana said, her voice muffled as she spoke against his neck. "I just... I'm scared, Jarvan." She loosened her grip on his neck, sliding down his bare chest. He was warm to the touch, and his battle scars looked worse for wear in the dark light as Shyvana shook her head, trying to hide her tears as they welled in her eyes.

"Scared?" Jarvan said, blinking, confusion settling upon his face. "Scared of what?" He lowered Shyvana to the ground, letting the dragoness stand on her own as she clambered up the rocks to the cave. He sat down on the moss, tossing a few sticks into the fire as he did, looking up at the Dragoness.

"Us..." She said, trying to hide her face behind her hands.

"Us?" Jarvan repeated, frowning. "I hardly think that's something to be afraid of..." Jarvan said, his shoulders slumping as he glanced away from her long legs and back to the fire. She could see him blush and she shook her head as she dropped to the soft moss next to him. She leaned against him, wrapping the blanket around their shoulders and pressed up against his side, laying her head in the crook of his neck.

"Not like that..." Shyvana said, her father's words echoing in her mind. "I... I'm afraid of what's to come. Kampf... Demacia..." She shivered, despite the warmth that Jarvan seemed to radiate as he looked down at her. "When I was laying at the bottom of that canal... I realized that I was never going to see you again." She paused, her voice trailing off. "That terrified me... I felt so alone..." Her voice cracked as is trailed off again.

"Sometimes I wonder if we'll actually be together in the future." Jarvan said quietly after a few minutes of silence. "I'm afraid too, afraid of so many things." He shook his head, looking at his open palm, wriggling his fingers and then forming a fist. He struck upward, punching the air, frowning at the gesture and looking back at his hand.

"What could you be afraid of?" Shyvana asked, looking up at him. The firelight danced in his eyes as she stared intently at the flames.

"Hurting you again... losing you..." He shivered, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tore his gaze from the fire and met Shyvana's stare. "Hardly becoming of a prince, right?" He said, trying to laugh it off. Shyvana simply shook her head, smiling at him as she felt the doubt and fear she had held in her heart before begin to melt. "But I know with you... I'll be able to sunder any army, crumble any mountain, leap the great divide in a single bound..." He trailed off sheepishly, looking down at Shyvana. He grinned stupidly, scratching the back of his head as he did. "Sorry... I just... I don't know how else to say it."

Shyvana smiled, shaking her head. "I know a word for it..."

She pushed up closer to him, drawing his head down with a hand upon his cheek and pressing her lips against his. She closed her eyes and could feel a tear stream down her cheek. She pulled back slightly, looking up into Jarvan's eyes.

"Love."


	28. Chapter 28: Meditation

Jarvan sat up, rubbing his eyes as sunlight reflected off the pool of water before him, throwing dancing motes of light upon the rocks, as if nymphs were dancing along the walls. He leaned on his knee, yawning and watching the motes of light dancing about carelessly; part of him was envious of them. He had often wondered what he would have been doing with his life had he not been born into military service, and fast tracked into being an officer. As he watched the water nymphs dance about on the walls; he could only smile at the memories they brought back.

* * *

_20 years ago..._

Jarvan raised his sword above his head and brought it down, slaying the evil she-beast. He stood triumphantly at the entrance of the beast's lair, a dark cave that cut deep into the rocks. He had journeyed deep into the cave and found a mighty weapon that was fit for the future king of Demacia. He grinned as he raised the weapon above his head and shouted a mighty battlecry.

"For the king!" He squeaked and covered his mouth as he froze and listened. He hadn't meant to shout; he had gotten too excited. He let loose a sigh of relief, raising he new sword.

Jarvan had been wandering the halls of the palace in his free times, exploring the many different rooms and offices that lined the courtyards and the spires that rose up towards the sky. He had just finished exploring a storage closet where he had found a broom that could have served as a mighty addition to his arsenal. Jarvan grinned as he stuck his head out into the hallway, the broom clutched in his hands as he watched silently for any movement from either direction. He had just begun to step into the hallway when the sound of clicking heals on the polished marble floors sent him scurrying for cover. He pulled the door shut as quietly as he could and peered through the keyhole. Someone turned the corner and the clicking sound grew louder, moving closer. Jarvan gulped and sucked a breath in as he recognized the female form, the skirt billowing around her.

"Young master!" The maid frowned, her dark hair swirling behind her as she wandered past, her piercing blue gaze hardly missing a detail. "Young Master Jarvan, where did you go!" Her glasses sat perched upon her nose as she clicked past, the black and white uniform she wore swirling along the polished marble floors. The clicking faded down the opposite hallway. Jarvan waited a few moments to make sure she had gone.

Jarvan finally exhaled, carefully opening the door, trying his best to keep the latch from making a sound. The door swung open, Jarvan cringing as the hinges creaked. He stuck his head out and looked to the left, and made sure it was all clear.

"So far so good..." Jarvan said quietly. He turned to look to the right and came face to face with a perfectly white apron and the tapping toes of his caretaker. "Oops." He gulped as the maid looked down at him, her glasses gleaming in the mid-day light. He tried to bolt down the hallway, but she grabbed him by the collar, holding him tight.

"Found you!" She said spitting him with a glare that could have frozen a battalion of the hardest Noxian troops where they stood. "What do you think you're doing playing around like this?" She said, crossing her arms. Jarvan shivered as she dressed him down, shaking a finger at his nose. "This is hardly behavior fitting the future king of Demacia! You should be studying, not playing war."

"Aww, but Noel, the lessons are boring!" Jarvan said, looking up at her. He frowned, sticking out his lip and knitting his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. She snatched his broom away and tossed it back into the closet.

"What if your father heard you say that!" Noel said, scolding him. "Your lessons are as important as any other aspect of a growing boy's education. Not everything can be won on the field of battle by simply charging head first into the wall." He voice was tight enough to cause Jarvan to cringe again. She waved him forward, following= as she marched him back towards the library with precision that would make a drill instructor jealous.

"I'm tired of English and History lessons." Jarvan protested as they approached the great arched entrance to the Demacian Royal Academy's Library. "Why can't I practice swordsmanship with Mister Xin some more?"

"The Seneschal has much better things to be doing than teaching disobedient young men how play with swords." Noel said, pointing a rigid finger at the table Jarvan had scurried away from earlier. "Now sit while I go and fetch the tutor you so callously blew off." Jarvan frowned but sat down at the table, crossing his arms over his chest angrily.

"Stupid Noel..." Jarvan muttered at her retreating form. "I just wanted to have some fun."

"Good afternoon, young master." The voice frightened Jarvan, causing him to nearly jump from his seat. He had been so lost in his brooding about his caretaker's treatment of him that he had completely missed the approaching footsteps. "Surely such a smart young man as yourself wouldn't be protesting his lessons, now would you?"

Jarvan spun in his seat, a big goofy grin plastered over his face as he looked back at the man who rested a hand upon his head. The man tousled his hair, causing the young prince to grin even wider.

"Hello, Grandfather!" Jarvan said happily.

"Hello, indeed!" His grandfather said, coming around the edge of the table, a smile upon his face. "And how are you this fine morning?" Jarvan tried to frown and put on a disgruntled expression, but he was unable to do so in his grandfather's presence. The man had a salt and pepper beard that was trimmed impeccably well, and whenever Jarvan saw him, he could only smile, memories of the way he had made the mustache dance to please him as a child came rushing back.

"I'm fine... just a bit bored." Jarvan IV said, looking back at his books. "Noel is making me study." His grandfather, the aging King of Demacia, picked up one of the books, and examined the cover, his thumb holding the younger Jarvan's place as he flipped through the pages.

"A Comprehensive History of Demacia: Fourth Edition." His grandfather read aloud. The elder Jarvan looked down at his grandson. "Light reading. Surely you don't think our country's proud and illustrious history to be boring, now do you?"

Jarvan looked at his feet, squirming in his chair. "Maybe..."

"Good, it'd be a pity to waste such a beautiful day simply cooped up in a library." His grandfather said, dropping the tome onto the table with a mischievous grin. "I've got an idea." He stroked his bearded chin with one hand, glancing over his shoulder. He gestured for Jarvan to follow. "Hurry, before Miss Noel gets back." Jarvan's face lit up as he jumped to his feet, following his grandfather towards one of the side exits.

"Where are we going, Grandfather?" Jarvan said, jogging to keep up with his grandfather's much longer strides.

"Shh!" Jarvan II said, pressing a finger to his lips, ducking behind a bookcase. "Watch." He gestured back towards the table, as Jarvan ducked behind the bookcase, peering through one of the lower shelves.

"It's Noel!" Jarvan hissed as she stopped at the table. She looked as if she were about fit to burst, the elderly tutor behind her having simply sighed and shook his head.

"He's gone again!" She practically screamed, drawing the attention of much of the library. "THAT LITTLE...!" Her voice faded out as she stormed out of the building, off to search for the young prince again.

"She seems a bit mad." Jarvan said, his eyes wide. "I've never seen her that mad before..."

"She'll be fine." Jarvan II said with a grin, watching the mix of horror and fear run over his grandson's face. "Come on, I've got something fun we can do."

"Alright!" The younger Jarvan said, falling in behind his grandfather. The King stuck his head out from behind the bookcase and then waved Jarvan IV forward, the younger Jarvan falling in behind him. "Where are we going, Grandfather?" He asked after entering the tower and descending down the circular staircase deep into the basement. His grandfather didn't say anything, but the smile on his face kept Jarvan's interest piqued as he followed. He had produced a lantern from somewhere and held it in front of them as they continued down the steps towards the dungeons.

"It should be around here somewhere..." His grandfather said, looking left and right, running a hand along the wall. He paused, running his hand up and over a small metal fixture that Jarvan had missed before. "This way... we're almost there."

"Yes sir..." Jarvan said, sticking close to his grandfather as they walked deeper and deeper into the dungeons.

"Four... five... six." His grandfather stopped and Jarvan bumped into him, still casting gazes at the shadows around them. "Here we go." His grandfather pulled a small ring of keys from his cloak, flipping through some of the smaller brass keys before he finally settled on a positively ancient looking key. He shoved it into the lock and twisted, the door opening to reveal a darkened room full of boxes and crates.

"What is this place?" Jarvan asked, looking up at the high vaulted ceilings. Long boxes were piled high, all the way to the ceiling, teetering about.

"Just a storage room." His grandfather said with a grin. He set his lantern down on a crate as he kneeled, brushing and blowing dust from the boxes as he examined several different containers. He grunted as he pushed one off the boxes to the ground, the crate breaking apart as it hit the stone floor. "Oops." He said, glancing over the edge. He pulled a knife from his belt as he looked at the next crate, jamming it into the gap to try and pry it open.

Jarvan kicked aside some of the wooden fragments and dug through the straw that had lined the long box. It was easily much taller than him as he tossed the straw aside, continuing to look through the contents of the box while his grandfather struggled to open the box he was prying on.

Jarvan brushed aside some of the moldy straw and was rewarded with the gleam of sharpened steel. He blinked, sitting back as he continued to brush the straw aside. The weapon was almost half again as tall as Jarvan was, and despite his young age, the weapon was terrifyingly massive. He tried to lift the heavy weapon but could hardly get it to budge. Jarvan could only imagine the brute of a man it must have taken to wield the weapon properly. Long decorative spikes extended off the top of the segmented lance, all of the tips gleaming in the dim lantern light. Jarvan ran his fingers over the weapon in awe, and gasped when he nicked his finger on the blade.

"It's still sharp?" Jarvan said, as blood pooled on his finger. He sucked on the end of the finger, still looking at the gleaming weapon.

"Would you look at that..." His grandfather said, bending over, brushing his hand over the lance. He blinked a few times, as he bent down next to Jarvan, a hand upon his head. "That was my father's lance..." He tried to pick the weapon up and grunted when he could barely get one end off the ground."

Jarvan snickered as the old man frowned, looking down at the weapon. "Can't lift it Grandfather?"

"I never said I could, squirt." He slugged his grandson's arm affectionately as he chuckled, dropping the weapon back down on the ground. Jarvan stuck his tongue out at his grandfather and giggled. "I found what I needed though, so lets go." Jarvan nodded at his grandfather, looking at the strange poles he had in his hand. Jarvan dragged himself from the room, his eyes still glued to the lance as he followed his Grandfather out of the dungeons and back into the palace. They stopped at an intersection and his grandfather stuck his head out around the corner, looked both ways then waved Jarvan IV to follow him as he jogged across the hall.

"Grandfather, where are we going?" Jarvan asked as he followed his grandfather through the palace. Jarvan had never seen this part of the Palace before, the rocky ceilings hung with large stalactites and stalagmites rising from the ground.

"A secret place, young one." They emerged into the forests just outside the city, the cave well hidden from those who would wander the forest. His grandfather stopped and looked about. He whistled like a bird, and then lay the poles across his shoulder. Jarvan looked about expectantly, as if something were to happen. He stood hesitantly watching for the trees to come alive, but to his disappointment, nothing happened. He frowned as his grandfather watched him, and smiled. "See something you like, young one?"

Jarvan looked back up at his grandfather and shook his head. "No, Grandfather. I just..."

"You expected this, no?" Jarvan II wore a grin on his face as he whistled again, this time two short blasts. A man appeared from the trees as if he had appeared from nowhere, his cloak shimmering with grays and greens, small bits of twig and leaves dropping from his cloak as it swirled around him. Jarvan blinked, his eyes as wide as saucers as the man, clad in green and gray saluted his grandfather, his bow and weapons shuddering as the man stood. Jarvan IV simply nodded, watching excitedly as the man looked down at Jarvan and smiled.

"I apologize for calling you out as such, Thanos." Jarvan's Grandfather said with a grin. "He is vigilant, for a child."

"He will make a great warrior in time." Thanos said, rustling the young prince's hair.

"Yes... in time." His grandfather said, grinning. "But for now, we have something else to attend to."

"Of course, my liege." Thanos' bowed and backed away, diss appearing into the brush as if he were a ghost. Jarvan watched, a wide grin upon his face as the man disappeared.

"Come, young one, we have much to do." His grandfather said, beckoning him to follow. Jarvan followed as they disappeared into the forest, following a small trail that had been carved through the thick pines. Jarvan talked happily about the ranger, his grandfather laughing and discussing with him as he did. Time seemed to blur as they continued to hike through the forest, only the faint rustling of bushes and the occasional snapping of twigs to show that the rangers were still following in their wake.

After a lengthy hike, the two emerged atop a waterfall that pounded the coastal rocks, the roar of the water feeding into the ocean enough to make the stone tremble beneath Jarvan's feet. He could heart he surf crashing upon the rocks down below, and the wind howling against the cliffs.

"What is this place, Grandfather?" Jarvan asked, peering over the edge of the waterfall. He inched forward till he could see the white surf breaking against the rocks. A mighty waved struck the cliff and water jumped nearly as high as where Jarvan stood perched, his jaw hung open in awe.

"This is my favorite fishing spot." Jarvan II said with a grin as he turned Jarvan IV back to look the opposite way. There was great lake that spread along the cliffs, the water slowly flowing towards the plunge towards the cliff. The lake was high above the surf below, the water pooled in a rocky basin that had served to form the lake. "Let's get some lines in the water already." A smile spread out across his face as he continued walking along the shore, the water lapping at the pebbles and sand that had been worn smooth by the water. Jarvan II clambered up a rock and held his hand out for the younger Lightshield, hauling Jarvan IV up the rock. He plopped down, stretching his legs out before him and chuckling as Jarvan hung his face out over the edge of the rock to look into the water.

"Grandfather... there are fish down there!" Jarvan said, tugging on his boot. Motes of light danced upon the surface of water, a rainbow of colors flashing across his face and the rocks.

"What would a fishing spot be without fish?" His grandfather said, laughing aloud. He busied himself with the fishing lines while the younger Jarvan splashed at the surface of the water, sending the fish skittering towards the inner part of the lake.

"They're so pretty!" Jarvan IV said, amazed. "Pink and green... woahhhhh!" The fish flashed just below the surface of the water, taunting Jarvan with their silvery scales and bright colors that lined their bodies. Jarvan watched the colors dance along the rocks, grinning wide as the light seemed to dance.

"They're called salmon." His grandfather said, raising him arm over his shoulder and then sending the hook and line sailing out over the water. The cork bobbed up and down for a few moments before settling on the surface of the water. "Here you go." Jarvan II handed the fishing pole off to his young companion.

"What do I do with this?" Jarvan said, accepting the pole from his grandfather.

"Catch us lunch, of course!" His grandfather chuckled again, casting a second line out into the water.

* * *

Shyvana stirred next to him, drawing him from his daydreaming as she pushed herself up against him, the warmth of her body radiating outwards underneath the blanket they had shared. Jarvan blinked a few times, the grand lake that had been before him was now the small, sheltered pool that was surrounded by rocks and trees. He sat back and yawned, looking up to the sky, and noticed that the sun had risen higher. He shook his head; he had wasted almost an hour lost in a stupid daydream. He smiled though, wondering whether Shyvana liked fish or fishing for that matter. She didn't seem to care for the water itself, but that was something they could work on in time. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, drawing it from his face.

"Look at me now, grandfather... sitting here thinking about my future with a woman..." He shook his head and looked down at Shyvana, her soft form rising and falling underneath the blanket. He grinned, touching his chest just over his heart. He smiled, thinking about what his grandfather and great-grandfather had told him before.

_Keep a lid on your shit, son._ Jarvan chuckled. Not the most eloquently put response, but it fit. He needed to keep his head about him and not let it get lost in the clouds again.

Jarvan turned back to Shyvana and watched her quietly for a while, letting the sound of the water caressing his ears. He ran a finger along her arm, then pulled the blanket up over her carefully as he slid out from under the blanket. He stood slowly, working the kinks in his neck out as he did. He grunted as he finally stood fully erect, his back cracking as he stretched his hands above his head and yawned. The morning was peaceful and dew covered much of the grass around the hidden pool. Jarvan watched the water for a while, wishing he had a fishing pole as he smiled to himself.

Finally drawing his eyes away from the pool, Jarvan set about his morning routine, moving down to the water and rinsing his face. He shaved quickly using his combat knife, unsatisfied that he couldn't get nearly as close a shave as with a razor. He brushed his teeth and then rinsed his mouth with a small bottle of alcohol. He then set about making something to eat, building up the fire and taking the time while the wood began to burn to simply sit back and think.

_How exactly are the two of us going to deal with Kampf, anyways? _Jarvan frowned as he sat, tending the fire, feeding it small sticks and blowing lightly upon it to try and catch the kindling on fire. He had gathered plenty of wood and sticks the night before, while Shyvana had napped. He pulled a handful of small twigs and dried pine needles from the pile and fed them into the small flame that he had managed to get by blowing on the still smoldering log.

_Last time we fought him, he took Shyvana down with a single swipe, he nearly fried both of us, and he killed more of my men then I care to think about. Jarvan_ shivered. His first and last encounter with Kampf had been the single deadliest encounter he had faced since his journey had begun two years prior, the dragon taking the lives of most of his troupe. _Argyle, Reynolds, Vanneth, Halcyon, Torn, Orion, Shore..._

Jarvan had injured the dragon, and though he had never pushed the subject with Shyvana, he had noticed that Kampf's left wing had been shredded. He could barely fly, and while Jarvan hadn't been able to use that to his advantage, He suspected it was a wound from his fight with Shyvana's father. Jarvan had also wounded the dragon, robbing him of half his sight. _Something else I can use to my advantage..._

Jarvan tossed a few sticks as round as his thumb onto the fire, letting the burgeoning flames devour the dried kindling before he set a large log onto the flames. It began to burn and flicker against the dim light of the overhanging rocks. Jarvan lowered a small black skillet over the fire and set two slabs of thick, salted pork on it that he had sliced off a hunk of meat. He would have preferred fresh fish, but he didn't have a fishing rod or at least a hook he could use. He pealed a potato with his knife while he watched the fire and chopped it up, tossing the bits into the pan with the pork and let it sit on the fire, crackling and sizzling. He sprinkled a few seasonings onto them and stirred them about till they were evenly coated.

_I've killed dragons before. _Jarvan frowned, watching the fire sparkle at the crackling grease. _It's never easy... but I've done it... just... never one this big or ferocious. _Jarvan shook the pan, and pushed the potatoes around with his knife, watching them brown and the pork darken.

"Mmmm..." Shyvana leaned against his arm and yawned, revealing long fangs. "What smells so good?" She rubbed her eyes as she leaned against Jarvan, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Jarvan said, kissing her lightly. She smiled as she groaned softly, leaning her head against his arm. Warm skin pressed against him as she slid up against his arm, wrapping her hand around his bicep.

"You're just saying that..." She murmured as she sniffed the air more.

"Maybe." Jarvan said, winking at her.

"Wha..." Shyvana pulled herself up, blinking the sleepiness away as she scowled at him. "That's no way to speak to a noble dragon." She stuck her nose out into the air and continued scowling. Jarvan chuckled.

"Since when did you become a 'noble dragon'?" Jarvan said, pushing a one of the slices of pork and some of the potatoes onto a plate, and the rest onto another. He handed Shyvana one of the plates and then cut two slices of bread from a hard loaf.

"Since yesterday." Shyvana said through a mouth of potato and pork, accepting the slice of bread from him.

"Oh really?" Jarvan said, looking at her, his eyebrow raised as he watched her shovel the food into her mouth hungrily. "Well I've never met a Noble who talked with their mouth full." Shyvana paused, ripping off part of the slab of salted pork and looked down at the chunk of meat she still had skewered on her fork. She set the meat down and chewed and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She blushed and looked down at her plate nervously, realizing that if she ever wished to be accepted into his world, she would need to learn to be a proper lady.

"Sorry." She said, looking up at him from behind her hair. Jarvan shook his head and chuckled.

"Just something you'll learn in time." Jarvan said, slicing off some of the meat and popping it into his mouth. They ate in silence, both of them quickly polishing off their food. Jarvan helped Shyvana clean up the campsite and then he doused the fire with some water from the pool.

"You might want to wash yourself off before we head out." Jarvan said, tossing her some soap and a towel. "No telling when the next time we'll have a chance to do so again." Shyvana nodded and looked to the water. She looked nervous, but the water wasn't more than a foot or two deep. Jarvan must have sensed her unease, cause he grinned.

"If you want I can help you with it." He wore a cheeky grin that told Shyvana he was kidding. She smirked.

"Mmmm... You can help me wash all those _hard to reach _places." Shyvana said coyly, grabbing his arm as she pushed herself up against him. She let her tunic slide off her shoulder as she sidled up to him, grinning. She pressed her breasts against him and grinned at the look of surprise on his face as he blushed a furious red. She could feel that she had let a large amount of cleavage show and while she thought she should have felt dirty or immoral, she could only feel her heart beat faster in her chest. His gaze dropped from her face and immediately jumped back to meet her eyes. She grinned cheekily as he tried to match her gaze. She had obvious caught him off guard, and she grinned happily at the surprise on his face.

"I-I-I..." Jarvan stammered. Looking away as Shyvana crowded towards him, letting her aggressive nature force him back as she smiled predatorilly.

"Oh, you're saying you don't want to help?" She said, pushing off of him and moving towards the pool. She let the towel she held over her shoulder slap him playfully. She looked over her shoulder and smiled coyly at him. "You can watch if you want though..." She stripped the clothes off and tossed them at Jarvan, grinning as she did. His mouth hung ajar.

"I'll do just that." Jarvan said, turning it back around on her. It was her turn to blush furiously at the thought of his gaze upon her body, smiling like a young girl. She had been playful but she hadn't actually expected anything. Not at the time at least. She turned back, smiling at him and expecting his embrace. She nearly fell over when she saw him clamber over the top of the rocks above her and grin down at her.

"Wait... I thought..." She said, confused, her shoulders sagging. Jarvan grinned cheekily and then winked at her.

"Expecting something else?" Jarvan called down, holding his lance at his side. "I'll keep watch from up here. Lemme know if you need a hand!" He disappeared over the edge of the rocks and left Shyvana speechless.

"OH!" She seethed, her hair billowing around her as flames exploded around her. "Jarvan Lightshield, you jerk!" His hand waved over the top of the rocks and then disappeared again. The flames simmered down and then died, leaving her feeling cold in the dim mid-morning sunlight. She sighed, but couldn't help but grin.

"I'll get you for that." She said, shaking her head.

* * *

Jarvan smiled to himself as he dripped some water from the soft sided pouch he wore on his belt onto his hand and the sharpening stone it held. He took the wet stone to his lance quietly, only the sound of the rushing water that crashed down the cliffs behind him and split into two rivers to disturb his meditation. He set about sharpening the hundreds of edges that lined his lance, the repetitive motion serving to calm him and his body.

His mind wandered to the vision that now bathed bellow him, a gorgeous and exceedingly sharp young woman who would probably give him everything if he so much as asked. It was an enticing thought and he had been tempted to give into his demons and had come within inches of indulging in a forbidden fruit he had long not tasted. It was something he had once desired with reckless abandon, chasing tail and bedding maidens whenever he had so desired, but he had learned in time that despite the carnal desire he had tried to satiate, none of the women he had perused, not matter how beautiful or smart, held no interest in him, only the title he bore.

He had eventually grown bored with his pursuits of the flesh and turned to his studies and his mastery of his lance, a runic weapon of massive weight and power that he had discovered on a fishing trip years and years before. He ran his hand along the weapon he held before him, many small dents and scratches marring the surface.. Many of them were like the women he had tried to take interest in during his years at the academy; nothing more than a distant memories now. Jarvan paused and tried to remember any of the women he had ever courted during his academy days. There was almost nothing that had stood out; it was but a blur of flesh and intercourse that had lacked any substance at all.

Jarvan ran his finger over one particularly deep scratch that had scarred the surface of the lance. He grinned at the memory of the Ice Drake he had downed in the far reaches of the Freljord. It had been his worst encounter up until that point in his journey, and the drake had left it's mark as the fiercest beast in the Freljord upon his lance.

He paused, his fingers resting upon the gouge in the lance and smiled. Like the Ice Drake, there was one woman who had stood out among all the rest.

_Shyvana... She is... _Jarvan struggled to find a word that could apply describe her. Memories of his other companions all lacked substance and faces to go along with the time he had spent. But Shyvana was different from all of the rest. Jarvan grinned. _Different._

_She is very different._

He paused sharpening his lance and ran his finger along the surface of the course stone. Shyvana was similar to the sharpening stone, smooth in places but rough around the edges where her life hadn't worn her smooth. Jarvan grinned to himself his mind wandering to the rough spots that Shyvana had, from her behavior to her body. Each was endearing and special, marking her and different from the many women he had known. She was special to him; her strength was not just in body and mind, but in heart as well. She was more Demacian than most Demacians he had ever known and she had a right to become a part of that, and know what it was like to have a true home. Jarvan didn't know how much he could give her, but he could at least give her that.

_A home._

Jarvan chuckled to himself. _Here I am, trying to giver her a home... I don't even know if I have a home to go back to. _He sighed, running his hands over his face. He looked down at his palms and just stared at them for a few moments. They were rough with callouses from wielding his lance and having done so for so many years. He wondered what he would have done with his life had he not been a prince. The life of a Demacian was hardly a peaceful one, the mandatory service was something that all Demacians went through, but after that, what would he have done? Jarvan had never known a life of peace, only service. He wondered what it would be like to live a peaceful life with Shyvana in the future. A life where he didn't have to worry about what others thought and others wanted him to do. A life where he could do what he wanted with who he wanted. He felt his face flush as he thought back to Shyvana.

_The ripest of fruit._ Jarvan shook his head and tried to draw his mind from the thoughts he was having. _Now is not the time for that._ He frowned and ran his free hand over his face. _In time... it will come. In time. _Part of Jarvan wondered if both of them wouldn't be better off if it happened. Part of him was ready to embrace her, and become one with her. His heart beat faster and he felt his stomach turn to butterflies, his head light and his face flushing at the very thought. It excited him in more ways than one and he knew that he wanted to. He wet the sharpening stone again and continued sharpening the blade to a razor's edge, shaking his head.

"We'll stop here for lunch." A man's voice interrupted Jarvan's daydreams and ripped him from cloud nine and back to Valoran. Jarvan sat back against the rocks, tucking the sharpening stone away when he heard more voices. He lowered himself to the ground and slithered up towards the edge, pulling himself the last little way and froze, just able to see who was down below.

When he realized who it was, he grinned and formed a quick plan of action. He stood and waited for the perfect opportunity.

* * *

"So what do we do now?" Forsythe muttered, kicking a rock. He grumbled as he kneeled down and pulled his canteen off his belt and dipped it into the pool that had formed in the base of the rocks. Despite the small trickle of water that ran down the cliff, he could hear the rush of water crashing on rocks somewhere over the way.

"I don't know." Isaacs crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the tree, scowling. "I knew he was a crazy sonuvabitch, but I never expected he'd get himself killed in Noxian captivity."

"Like hell he would." Forsythe frowned, pouring some water over his face and wiping dust and grime from it. He sighed as he cracked his back and knelled down to fill his water bottle again. "Jarvan would've taken a few squads down with him."

"It can't be possible." Quinn said sadly, stroking Valor's neck. He was unhappy, watching the rocks above them and glancing back and forth expectantly between Quinn and Isaacs as if he had something to say. Quinn sighed sadly, and looked to Isaacs. "I thought... I didn't think... how could it be..."

"We don't know that it's true." Isaacs said as he sunk to the ground, still leaning against the tree. "I won't believe the Prince is dead till I see the body."

"I don't want to think about it." Forsythe grumbled. "Four weeks and we don't hear anything... and now he's supposedly dead? Screw that." He reared his fist back as if he was going to punch the rocks. He took a weak swing and missed the wall, sending him sprawling into the dirt. He sighed, picking himself up and started wiping his pants off.

A man dropped down from the rocks, clutching a long weapon. Valor screeched and went soaring up into the sky. Isaacs and Forsythe squabbled as they drew their weapons and faced the man, his long black hair swirling around him. He raised the familiar looking lance and slammed the butt of it into the dirt. Isaacs and Forsythe held their weapons up at the ready as Quinn struggled to her feet and tried to pull out her crossbow.

"Wait..." Isaacs said, frowning, his weapon lowering a fraction of an inch and his jaw dropped. Jarvan grinned as he turned and grinned, his fist posted on one hip, his lance clenched in the other.

"So," he chuckled, "Satan walks into a bar..."

Isaacs blinked and then fell over backwards, his eyes rolling back in his head.


	29. Chapter 29: Dissention

Isaacs spluttered and sat up, coughing and wiping the water from his face. Jarvan chuckled as he tossed Forsythe his water bottle back.

"Come on now, old man." Jarvan said, grinning, his hand extended towards Isaacs. "You better not have damn heart attack on me now."

"You... you..." Isaacs said, blinking the water from his eyes his gaze turning towards Forsythe. The younger man stood there with a stupid grin on his face the last few drips of water hitting Isaacs head as he emptied the remainder of his water bottle on his head. He took Jarvan's hand as the prince hauled him to his feet. Isaacs jabbed Jarvan in the chest with a finger. He frowned and jabbed to prince in the chest again, bringing his face close again and blinked a few times, squinting. He stepped back and shook his head, as if he was lost in thought for a few moments. He spun on his heel, shaking his head as if he didn't believe it. He began to walk away before he stopped mid stride and spun about, his jaw hanging open.

"Surprise?" Jarvan said with a grin.

"Fucking..." Isaacs stammered, starting to turn and then snapping back to look at Jarvan. "What the fuckin... fuck..." He turned to Forsythe who still was grinning like an idiot. "who the fuck... fucked this fuckin..." He looked up to the rocks then back to Jarvan. "How did you fucking fuck... FUCK!" He practically jumped out of his skin as he grasped at his head, shouting excitedly.

"Well then." Jarvan said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "That certainly shows the diversity of the word." Forsythe laughed, saluting the Prince proudly and then clasping his arm with a large smile on his face.

"I just... how did you... we heard you were..." Isaacs said, shaking his head, suddenly looking very tired.

"I was dead?" Jarvan said with a cocky grin. "Hardly. It'll take more than the enti re Noxian Army to keep me in the grave."

"You're an ass!" Isaacs frowned angrily for a few moments, the corner of his mouth twitching. Jarvan grinned cheekily, watching as the mock anger dissolved into a wide grin. The old Lieutenant saluted and held it until Jarvan matched it, grinning.

"You're one to talk, El-Tee." Jarvan said, posting a fist on his hip. Isaacs cocked his arm back to swing as Jarvan started to raise his arm to block it.

"Bastard!" Isaacs said, wrapping his arms around Jarvan and slapping his back. "What the hell happened to you?" He held Jarvan at arms length like he was his father, looking him up and down. "You look like crap."

"Take a look in the mirror before you talk, old man." Jarvan said, slapping him on the shoulder. "You look like you took a stroll through hell. Devil didn't want to keep you?"

"No such luck." Isaacs said grinning. "Kicked me out first chance he got."

"Hah!" Jarvan chuckled. "I'm not surprised. Forsythe, How's the eye holding up?"

"No worse for wear, sir." Forsythe said, touching the sealed eyelid on the left side of his face. A large scar ran up from his cheek up his forehead and then disappeared beneath the man's mop of blonde hair. "My depth perception is a little lacking, but that's all."

"Good to hear it." Jarvan said, setting his hand on the man's shoulder. "You obviously know some of what's happened with me, but I've heard nothing of you. What happened after we got seperated?"

"The trail went cold." Isaacs said sourly, crossing his arms over his chest. "We went to ground after Noxian Patrols started picking up. We only recently moved when we heard the news that the Noxians had executed two prisoners."

"Cold? How could something like that happen." Jarvan said, raising one eyebrow.

"Dragons can fly." Quinn said, clearing her throat and blushing, looking slightly abashed that she had failed her one task. "It's hard to track something airborne regardless of it's size." She grinned as she looked up at Jarvan. She began to salute as the others had done, but froze when her arm was part way across her chest. She dropped her arm to her side and bowed to the prince.

"Don't do that." Jarvan said, waving her off. "It's fine." Jarvan scratched the back of his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Apologies." Quinn said again, bowing a seconds time. "I failed my assigned task."

"I said cut that out." Jarvan said, frowning. "Out here, I'm just another soldier."

"Yes, sir." Quinn said, nervously, wringing her hands as she looked at the ground. Jarvan noticed that Forsythe put a comforting hand on her back. He wouldn't have payed the gesture much attention had it been one of the men comforting one of their own, but Quinn wasn't exactly just another of the men.

_Well... looks like something changed since I last saw them..._ Jarvan shook his head as he looked around the group. Forsythe and Isaacs looked happy just to see him again and Quinn looked bashful at what she had perceived as a failure.

"Speaking of dragons, what happened to our resident half-dragon?" Isaacs said, looking over his shoulder at Jarvan. As if on queue, Shyvana looked up over the top of the rocks.

"Jarvan? Where did you-... oh!" She looked surprised as she stopped toweling her hair off. Jarvan jerked his finger towards her.

"She's fine." Jarvan said, grinning. Isaacs paused looking back and forth between Jarvan and Shyvana with his jaw ajar. He gave Jarvan an accusing glare that The young prince caught. He looked sheepish for a few moments but he couldn't hide the grin.

"I'll say." Isaacs said shaking his head. He continued to glare at Jarvan, wondering just what he had done with the young dragoness that had brought about his sudden cheekiness. The prince had always been serious with his men; he was the rock that had held the unit together through those two years. He was always the first to t jump into a fight and never backed down, but he always kept a level head. To have him do something so brash as his little stunt that had nearly caused Isaacs to have a heart attack was a big sign that something had changed. His mentality had changed, as if the fog had lifted from his mind, the heat from the young dragoness helping to clear the haze.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing." Isaacs said, shrugging. "How you doin', Princess?" Isaacs called with a cheeky grin that earned him a scowl from Jarvan.

"Good!" Shyvana said, color flooding to her face as she smiled at Isaacs. "I'll be down in a few!"

"Take your time." Jarvan said, waving to her as she smiled, her cheeks rosy. She slipped back behind the rocks to finish cleaning and grooming herself. Jarvan turned back to the group and grinned. "Surely you all have plenty of questions..."

"You bet your ass we do." Isaacs said, looking at Jarvan with a mix of both glee and anger. Jarvan could read the shit in the man's eyebrows as they struggled to stay knit in a frown.

"Come on, I'll put some coffee on." Jarvan said, waving them forward. Isaacs and Forsythe nodded and started following him, but Quinn hung back. Jarvan frowned, as she kicked at the dirt. Isaacs noticed this too and started to slow, but Jarvan waved them on. Isaacs stopped, looking at the prince, but Jarvan simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Go on, it's just around the corner." Isaacs didn't look happy, but he nodded regardless. Jarvan waited for the other men to round the corner before he stepped towards the young tracker. Valor lighted on her shoulder, the bird looking warily at him, his golden eyes shimmering in the midday sun. "Hey Valor, remember me?" He held his hand out towards the bird, slowly approaching. Valor's eyes followed the prince's hand as it approached, but didn't shrink back. Jarvan gently stroked the birds crown, causing the bird to ruffle it's feathers and tuck it's head in happily. Quinn looked nervously up at him, a look he had seen before many times.

"Jarvan... I..." Quinn began to say, frowning.

"What's bothering you?" Jarvan said, scratching under Valor's beak with two fingers.

"Well..." Quinn ran her hand along her other arm nervously. "I didn't exactly part ways with Shyvana on good terms..." Jarvan looked at her, surprised. He paused a few moments, blinking before he chuckled aloud.

"Surely that's not what's bugging you?" Jarvan said, shaking his head.

"I mean..." Quinn fidgeted with her leather armor. "I... not really..."

"You're nervous about what's coming, aren't you?" Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest. Quinn nodded. "You know, the first time I went into battle I was so scared I could hardly move. It was as if my legs were made of lead and I felt so afraid I was going to be physically sick."

"How did you..." Quinn looked up at him and blushed, glancing quickly away. Jarvan had already seen the look she had given him though. "How did you know?"

"I've seen that look on more people than you could ever imagine." Jarvan shook his head sadly, his shoulders rising and falling as he remembered the many men who had served under his command.

"How do you cope with it?" Quinn said, her hand hovering over her stomach. "The fear that is."

"You don't." Jarvan said, shrugging. "Any man who is faced with death that says he's not afraid is either crazy or lying. I long ago learned that you can try to fight the fear, and let it gain power over you... or you can embrace it and try to figure out why you're afraid."

"What if it's not your own life that you're afraid of losing?" Quinn looked up at him, a frown creasing her gently brow.

"That's... that's quite a bit harder to deal with." Jarvan said, scratching the back of his head and running a hand through his hair, clearing it from his face. Quinn felt bad; Jarvan wore a pained expression. "Have you ever lost someone dear to you?"

"I... once, yes." Quinn said softly.

"How would that person feel if they knew you regretted fighting for what you believed in, just because you were afraid for their life?" Jarvan said, his brow creased. "If they are willing to stand next to you in rank and file... surely they are prepared to do their own duty and you should do yours."

"But... what happens when you're given an order to blindly charge to your death... would you do it?" Jarvan was silent for a long time, before he got to his feet. Quinn looked surprised, watching as he looked skyward. He looked weary, as if he had sudden gained twenty years. He was expressionless as he waved her forward, leaving her question unanswered. He started walking toward the rocks, but paused.

"It's never easy to know you killed all of your men and friends." Jarvan said remorsefully. "It's something you'll never live down... It might haunt you for the rest of your life." He turned back towards her, a sad smile on his face as he looked back and forth between Quinn and valor. "I only hope you never have to experience that pain."

Jarvan strode promptly around the corner, leaving Quinn alone. She felt bad for bringing it up, but she turned to Valor, meeting the bird's gaze.

"He's rubbish at motivational speeches, isn't he?" She said, giggling slightly, stroking the bird. Valor ruffled his feathers and squawked derisively at her. "Yeah, yeah I know." Quinn sighed. "Come on, Valor, let's catch up."

* * *

"It's good to see ya, girly." Isaacs said, hugging Shyvana, ignoring the nervous expression she wore. "We were worried about you two." She wore a small smile as she looked at the short, burly non-commissioned officer from within his thick arms.

"Like wise." Shyvana said, her smile growing as he held her at arms length. She seemed to glow as she looked over him over and grinned. "You seem as gruff and stubborn as ever." She remarked with a smile that made the man blush. "Surely you managed to beat death off with a stick, thus far?"

"Ah well, you know..." Isaacs said, kicking at the dirt, exaggerating the motion. Forsythe and Shyvana laughed. Isaacs shook his head as he lowered himself down to the ground around the small fire ring as he poked at it with his sheathed sword. "Surely he doesn't plan of making us coffee with that?"

"He's strong... but he's no wizard." Forsythe said, grinning.

"So... how have you been? We've only heard rumors of what happened to the two of you... most of them coming from Noxus." Isaacs said, sitting back and stretching his legs out below him. "That feels good." He sighed as he lay back.

"You stay down there too long and you won't be able to get back up." Forsythe snipped. Isaacs shot him a dirty look, but he couldn't keep the angry look on his face for long. Shyvana hugged her legs to her chest, resting her cheek on her knee. She had forgotten how much she had missed Isaacs. He may have been nothing more than a cheeky sarcastic old codger, but he also reminded Shyvana of her father. He was warm and encompassing, seeing you for who you were, not what you looked like. She smiled to herself as a fond memory of her father ran through her mind. She focused back onto Isaacs though, as he continued to joke with Forsythe.

Shyvana knew that he was happy, she could read the genuine emotion on his face and in his relaxed body language. Jarvan had told her of the men he had lost, and one had shared his last name. She pulled her legs closer to her and shivered, thinking of the pain he must have felt when he lost his son. To lose a son and yet have such a happy smile... it was saddening to her and she felt the urge to hug the old man. She blushed at the thought, but smiled to herself, closing her eyes and listening to the two men continue to bicker.

"And what are you blushin' and smilin' like a pixie for?" Isaacs said, sticking his chin out, trying to keep the grin from his face. Shyvana shook her head, letting her long locks bounce about her.

"Nothing." Shyvana said, trying to hide behind her arm.

"Sure it's nothing." Isaacs said with a cheeky grin. "I bet you were thinking of Jarvan... weren't you." Shyvana opened her mouth to speak as Isaacs nudged her gently, but she could feel her cheeks burning bright red.

"If she wasn't before she sure is now." Forsythe said with a lopsided grin.

"Bwahahahaha!" Isaacs rolled back and let his maniacal laughter trail off.

"Good to see nothing's changed at all." Jarvan said, ducking below the rocks and stepping around Forsythe, patting the man on the shoulder as he did.

"Yeah well that little stunt you pulled shortened my damn life by a few years." Isaacs said, rolling his eyes. "Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack."

"I couldn't help myself." Jarvan shrugged as he lowered himself to the ground next to Shyvana. Isaacs grinned as he did, but he also noticed something slightly different. Before, the two of them were close. Almost like a puppy and it's master, but now there was something different. Both of them were turned ever so slightly towards the other, and it made him grin. He had enjoyed teasing Shyvana about it, but he had to wonder if he was going to end up calling her Princess in due time. He sat up slightly straighter, prouder and he felt his heart swell.

Isaacs knew that is wasn't proper to think of the Prince as his own son, but in a way all of them had been children to him. Vanneth, Torn, Argyle... they had all been like sons to him from the time they had joined the unit, each as much family as his own flesh and blood. Shore... Isaacs felt a heavy hand laying upon his shoulder, but he also knew that his son, his posterity, had seen all of these men as brothers. Jarvan may have been royalty outside the army, but within, he was as much a soldier when he chose to be as any Demacian peasant like Forsythe. Isaacs felt a mix of sadness and happiness settle in his heart, but at the same time, the joy he felt at seeing Jarvan and Shyvana alive was enough to lighten the dark mood that had settled over the group.

"So." Isaacs said, leaning forward, spitting Jarvan and Shyvana with a calm glare. "Both of you, spill it, now. What the hell happened to the two of you." He watched as Jarvan glanced over his shoulder at Shyvana as if they were debating who would talk. They shared the glance for a few moments, as if they were telepathically debating, but Isaacs could see the discomfort growing in Shyvana. Isaacs could only assume that they had been through much together, isolated from the rest of the world, lost in a hostile enviroment. It couldn't have been easy and they had obviously grown extrmely close. For Jarvan to act to jovial and carefree around what Shyvana probably viewed as strangers... he could only imagine turmoltuous feelings she must be facing.

The crunch of a twig and the brush of leather on rock drew his attention from Jarvan and he watched as Quinn joined the group, sliding into the rough circle between him and Forsythe.

With her presence came a subtle shift in the air around them as she sat down, and he would've sworn the entire area was a few degrees warmer. Isaacs frowned as he watched Shyvana's back go rigid as if she expected an attack. Valor squawked defensively, ruffling his feathers as if threatened, but he stayed on Quinn's arm as she tapped his beak derisively for interrupting the group. Isaacs noted that Quinn was purposely ignoring Shyvana, and he could tell that Shyvana was unsuccessfully trying to ignore Quinn.

Isaacs stiffed a groan, sensing a brewing storm.

"Where to begin..." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "You want to do the honors?" He said, gesturing to Shyvana. She shook her head and set and hand on his leg. Isaacs would have considered it a subtle gesture, but Shyvana left her hand there as if she was being posesive of him. It was a subtle gesture, but the tension in the air was growing ever more palatable.

"You'll do a better job." She said, watching Quinn's unease as she sat across the circle from Jarvan and Shyvana.

"Well..." Jarvan said, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "I suppose we'll start back when we got separated..."

...

...

...

"...and that's when I stumbled upon you guys on the other side of the rocks." Jarvan said shrugging. He turned back to Shyvana to make sure she had nothing else to add and she simply nodded, an empty smile on her face.

"Bloody hell..." Isaacs said, wide eyed. "You guys have been busy." He shook his head. "And you trust this Noxian General's daughter?"

"Not at all." Jarvan said, frowning, his arms crossed over his chest. "But she helped us and I'm about to go back and betray her for it." Jarvan felt uneasy but he shrugged. "I'll look into what she asked for if we make it home to Demacia."

"You mean 'when'." Isaacs said, letting a smile creep onto his face.

"I suppose I do." Jarvan said, matching his smile, looking a bit abashed for his lack of faith.

"So what's the plan now?" Isaacs said, frowning. "Should we just pick a direction and start wandering?"

"Hardly." Jarvan said, watching as Shyvana looked back and forth between Forsythe, Quinn and Isaacs. She matched gazes with Valor for a long time period of time. "We're going to head towards the outskirts of the city. There's a pub there that rangers and wilds-men frequent. Hopefully we can pick up a lead there."

"I suppose that's a better plan than anything else I've got." Isaacs said, shrugging. "When do we leave?"

Jarvan glanced to where Isaacs and Forsythe both watched him. He noticed Quinn's gaze was actually on Shyvana which caused a frown to tug at the corner of his mouth. Shyvana was watching him mostly, her eyes flickering about the group from time to time. Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and stretched his neck.

"We should be able to make it by dusk." Jarvan said, looking at where the sun was hanging high in the sky.

"We better get a move on then." Isaacs said, yawning. He rubbed his eyes as he gathered his things and struggled to feet. "Damnit, I really didn't get nearly enough sleep last night." He muttered as he pulled his pack on.

"Too much booze?" Jarvan said, grinning as he held a hand out for Shyvana. She got to her feet through, ignoring Jarvan's extended hand. He was surprised, and watched her for a few moments as she spun on her heel and finished armoring up.

"Not enough..." Isaacs said, letting his trail off as he watched Shyvana move away from the group to retrieve her gear. He glanced over his shoulder to where Forsythe and Quinn were helping each other and then looked back to Jarvan, an eyebrow raised. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Jarvan. "A lovers quarrel?" Jarvan looked over his shoulder to where Shyvana's shapely hind end wiggled as she struggled to pull on her left grieve.

Jarvan coughed, covering his mouth with a fist as he glanced away. "Things were fine up until we joined up with you." Jarvan said, still blushing furiously.

"She seemed alright earlier when I greeted her... a bit nervous if anything." Isaacs said, frowning. She seemed to be comfortable around Jarvan and Isaacs, but not so much around Forsythe and Quinn.

"Did something happen with her and either Quinn of Forsthye?" Jarvan said, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't think so..." Isaacs said, his brow furrowing. "But it was during Quinn's watch that Shyvana left the group back in the Conifer Basin." He frowned again, scratching his bearded chin before shrugging. "Something could have happened between the two of them I suppose."

"I should ask one of them about it." Jarvan said, picking his pack up and sliding it over his shoulders.

"Best talk to yonder princess about it, prince." Isaacs said, gesturing to where Shyvana was struggling with her pack. "The eve of battle is not a good place for lovers to quarrel." Jarvan shot the lieutenant a hard glare, but he simply raised his arms defensively and chuckled.

"Bite me, you old coot." Jarvan muttered as he walked over towards Shyvana. Isaacs winked at him as he turned to make sure both Forsythe and Quinn were ready to go.

"Here, let me help you with that." Jarvan said, holding Shyvana's pack up so she could get the strap over her shoulder pauldron.

"I've got it." Shyvana said tersely, yanking the pack from Jarvan's hands and finally managing to get the strap over the armored plate. Jarvan blinked a few times, surprised, trying to figure out if he had heard her correctly.

"Did I do something?" Jarvan said, taking a step back. Shyvana whirled around on him, an icey glare cutting into him. She tried to hold the glare, but it melted, and sadness crept into her eyes. She shook her head and tried to walk past him. Jarvan reached out and grabbed her arm.

''Let go." Shyvana said, looking over her shoulder at him.

"What happened? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jarvan said, feeling scorned.

"Wrong with me?" Shyvana said, whirling about and spitting him with a hurt glare. She locked gazes with him, and he could see a mix of pain and confusion swirling in her eyes. "Of course it's something wrong we me." She whirled about and tried ot move off again, but Jarvan grabbed her shoulder, trying to keep her from going.

"I said let go!" She practically shouted, flames exploding around her for a breif moment. Jarvan yelped and jumped back, holding his seared hand. Angry red mark began to form along his wrist, where his glove and his body-suit met. Shyvana opened her mouth to say something, but took a step away, her arms held close to her body and her eyes glued ot the ground.

Over the top of her head, Isaacs was watching the encounter with an even gaze of a father. He gave Jarvan a recusing look, but Jarvan glared at him with steeled nerves. He jerked his head slightly, and Isaacs got the message. He ushered Quinn and Forsythe along and around the rocks, leaving Jarvan and Shyvana alone. Jarvan ran a hand through his long black hair, clearing it from his face. He peeled his glove off, the gauntlet going with it as he examined the blisters that were beginning to form.

"Shyvana..." He said quietly, calmly as she stood silently at the ground.

"Don't touch me." She said, the hint of a sob wracking her voice as she shook her head side to side. "You'll get burned again."

She began to step away, but Jarvan grabbed at her shoulder. She paused when his firm grip landed on her arm and she begin to turn towards him as it to say something, but she slapped his arm aside as tears streamed down her face.

"Shy..." He said, his voice getting lost in his throat.

"Don't come any closer." Shyvana said, her own voice growing faint as she struggled to form words around her tears. Jarvan took a step towards her but Shyvana had a wild look in her eye. Flames began to envelop her as she shook her head, her skin gaining a blue tint as her draconian side began to emerge. Sclaes emerged from her skin and horns emerged from her head as she growled at Jarvan. She bared her teeth and nearly lashed out at him.

"Shy..." Jarvan said, raising his hands before him defensively trying to placate her.

"I SAID STAY BACK!" She roared, sending Jarvan crashing to his rear and skittering back. Jarvan stared up at her, his mouth ajar, unable to form any words. She looked surprised and afraid, the expression a child wore the first time they accidentally stepped on a new puppy's tail. She clamped her eyes shut as if she expected something horrible to happen. She shook her head violently and then looked down at Jarvan before turning sharply and picking up her armored gauntlets. She slid them on and then paused and looked over her shoulder one final time before disappearing around the edge of the rocks.

Jarvan felt stunned as he pulled himself to his feet, unable to form words or to pursue her. Part of him was both surprised and deeper within, he realized something that made him feel deeply ashamed of himself. He looked down at his hands and simply stared at them for a few moments, dirt and little bits of rock and moss decorating the palm of his un-gloved hand.

_I'm afr... I'm afraid of her... _Jarvan shook his head, trying to quell the fear that dwelled deep within his heart. He shook his head. _I can't be afraid of her... I love her..._ He pulled his glove on, still searching for some reason, some answer to what had suddenly happened to cause Shyvana to become so withdrawn.

He donned his pack and then lifted his lance, looking to ensure nothing had been left behind. With doubt on his mind he took one last look at the pool and he could only wonder to himself about what had happened. He donned his slightly charred glove and flexed his palm, a frown still upon his face. He shook his head as he donned his helm, letting the strap dangle around his neck as he rounded the rocks.

Forsythe and Quinn chatted idly by while Isaacs watched over the group like a hen watches her chicks. Jarvan could tell he was watching Shyvana, who had separated herself from the group just enough to disconnect, but not enough to show her dissension. She hid behind a guise of adjusting her armor and her pack, but he could tell that something was amiss. Jarvan frowned as he caught Isaac's glare and he could only cast a fleeting glance towards Shyvana before shrugging meekly.

"Ready, sire?" Forsythe asked, looking to Jarvan a smile on his face. Jarvan nodded, and spoke toward Quinn.

"You know where we're going?" She nodded and smiled, casting Valor into the air. The Demacian Eagle screamed as it shot nearly straight up into the air and began to circle above.

"I believe so." She said, nodding.

"Lead on then." Jarvan waved them forward, falling in next to Isaacs.

"A word, Val..." Jarvan said softly, so as not to let the sound of his voice carry over the crunch of his boots upon the ground.

"Oh no..." Isaacs said, shaking his head and giving Jarvan a wary glance. "You only call me by that nickname when you need advice about something that doesn't involve the death of said problem."

"I... I don't know what's wrong." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "It's as if something just changed in her..." Isaacs glanced over his shoulder to where Shyvana was making a notable effort to stay last in the ragged line they had fallen into as they marched across the tree-riddled marsh land.

"If you're asking for answers about women..." Isaacs said, frowning, his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword. "Then you might wanna find another woman to ask. I don't understand em any more than you do."

"But you were married, weren't you?" Jarvan said. "Surely you have some idea..." Isaacs chuckled deeply, a hearty belly laugh that almost sent him crashing into a deep puddle.

"Prince, you would compare my ex-wife to that of your sweet, young Princess Shyvana?" Isaacs chuckled again, nudging Jarvan in the ribs, which brought color to the younger man's cheeks. "No woman deserves to be compared to that old witch." Isaacs shook his head. "Son, if anything, being married to her only made her understand women less." Jarvan frowned but didn't have anything to say. Isaacs noted the downtrodden look he wore and he sighed. "If she doesn't want to talk about it... give her a little space for a while and let her calm down. She's young and I honestly doubt she understands much of how we act around each other. Your story told me of how intimate and comfortable the two of your are together... but even then, you were alone together for so long..." Isaacs shrugged. "She could just be jealous or homesick."

"I suppose..." Jarvan said calmly.

"Give her time, lad." Isaacs said, knocking his gently on the shoulder. "She'll warm back up to you."

Jarvan nodded, but he couldn't shake the sinking feeling he felt that something disastrous was headed their way.

The group hit a cobblestone road in a little under half an hour of walking, the path was well worn and there was only the barest of traffic on it, so the hushed conversations continued among the two in the lead. Jarvan took solace in the calming mood that the reds, oranges and yellows put him in as the continued to walk through the tunnel of leaves.

The rustle of leaves seemed to drown out the troubles around him and the crips autumn air cleared his mind and helped ot put his heart at ease.

"Something's coming."

Jarvan was ripped from his momentary meditation as Shyvana grabbed Isaacs and him by the shoulder and nearly tossed them off the side of the road.

"Get down!" Shyvana hissed as Forsythe and Quinn turned, looking back with surprise upon their faces. Shyvana waved them to the side of the road urgently, an annoyed look on her face.

Jarvan and Isaacs kneeled behind a thicket, so they could only just barely see the road. The brush around them rustled and Quinn and Forsythe appeared, both of them kneeling next to Isaacs and Jarvan.

"What happened?" Quinn whispered, but Shyvana merely pushed a finger to her lips and glared at the young tracker.

"Quiet!" She hissed.

Jarvan was perfectly still, only the sound of his heart beat ringing in his ears. It grew louder and louder until he could feel it shaking the ground beneath his feet. Jarvan shook his head as if he was going crazy, but that was when he realized that it wasn't his heartbeat, it was the sound of boot on stone. His throat went dry as the roar of a column of troops approached, each footfall rumbling like that of thunder.

Through the autumn leaves the menacing grey and red colors faded into view, a massive column of Noxian troops coming into view. They were prepared for war, and Jarvan could only assume they were coming for his head and the head of his men.

The column began to march past, the sound of footsteps thundering in his ears and he could see the unease upon that of his fellows. Had it been anything but Noxian troops, the familiar sound would have been reassuring, but it only filled his stomach with ice.

The shout of a distant officer brought the column to a halt not twenty feet from where he sat hunched over in a bush, his throat dryer than the Shurima desert.

Jarvan gulped as an Officer trotted past on his horse. The officer bore the standard of the unit and a saber upon his hip, a grim look upon his face as he slowed as he passed the brush where Jarvan and the others were hidden.

Jarvan felt his skin crawl as the man's gaze seemed to meet his own.

He tightened his grip upon his lance.

"Get ready..."


	30. Chapter 30: Reconciliation

The Officer's eyes seemed to lock with Jarvan's for a few moments.

Jarvan could feel his heart beating in this throat as his hair stood on end. Electricity ran through his veins.

"Lieutenant?" The officer's voice carried through the brush and Jarvan could only barely hear him over the thunder of his heart.

"Sir?" Another officer moved up towards the ranking officer, his standard flapping in the wind behind him. The second officer was definitively younger and decidedly pretty, though the stern expression she wore betrayed the nervousness she felt. Something was bothering her and Jarvan doubted it was just the stop in the movement of the column of troops. She passed electric blue eyes over the brush where Jarvan and the others hid.

Jarvan flexed his hand around his lance. His fingertips were cold due to the lack of blood because he had his hand clamped so tight around his lance.

"Sir?" She repeated, looking back to her commanding officer. "Major?"

"It's nothing, Lieutenant." The officer said, shaking his head, kicking his horse, the black stallion shaking it's head angrily and taking off at a canter towards the head of the column.

"Yes, sir." She said, passing another glance over the brush her commander had been watching. "Company! Double time! March!" She rolled her eyes as the paranoid tendencies of her commander and kicked her own horse, the brown mare jumping at the prodding, the officer growling as she took off.

Jarvan sighed heavily, his grip on his lance finally loosening. He felt a hand pat on his thigh, and he looked to his right expecting to see Shyvana.

"Something's got the Noxian's spooked." Isaacs said, offering Jarvan a hand. He grinned really wide as Jarvan's disappointment shown through. He looked to where Shyvana stood frowning, her glare more even then he had seen in a long time. Isaacs obviously noticed because he snickered and grinned. Jarvan blushed and dropped his head, frowning.

"The air is rife with the scent of blood." Shyvana murmured as she raised her nose to the wind.

"Blood?" Quinn paled to nearly a sheet white and Shyvana glanced over to where she stood.

"Something wrong... can't stomach a little blood?" Shyvana said, a cocky grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. Quinn's face flooded with color as she blushed angrily.

"Of cour-..." Quinn started to say but Isaacs cut her off as he stepped between the two women and put a arm across both Quinn and Shyvana's chests as the young tracker started to step up to the challenge.

"Alright now, lets just all take a step back and calm down." Isaacs said, pushing the two girls apart. Quinn moved back, rocking back on her heels and taking a few steps back in the process. Shyvana however, was firmly rooted in her place, and she stared down at the young girl. Isaacs turned towards her and placed both of his hands upon her shoulders and had to physically shove her backwards, and only then did she take a half step back. Shyvana growled as she looked down at him and sneered, as Isaacs pushed himself further off than he actually managed to move Shyvana. She glowered but backed off, shaking her hair out and looking down her nose at the young tracker.

"I'm tired of this." Shyvana glowered. "What's the point of a Tracker if she can't even track him?"

"Oh yeah!" Quinn said, grinning sarcastically. "They just keep me around because I'm good with dealing with ANIMALS!" Shyvana shrunk back at the insult but she shook her head and snarled.

"Is that because you're an utter bitch, yourself?" Shyvana snapped back.

The look of surprise on Quinn's face seemed to hold for a few moments before it melted into a mask of anger. Quinn looked like she was searching for a comeback and struggling to find one. "Well..." She stumbled on her words and hung her head, wringing her hands.

Shyvana began to press her advantage. "What, can't think of som..."

"ENOUGH!" Jarvan bellowed, his face nearly red with anger. Quinn gulped and both Forsythe and Isaacs shrank back in fear. It was not often that Jarvan lost his temper, and usually destruction followed in his wake when he did. Shyvana tried not to show her surprise, but both her body and face betrayed her surprise. Jarvan huffed angrily and wiped spittle from his chin as he tried to regain his composure. "I've had it up to here with all of this." He wheeled about so he could face both Quinn and Shyvana. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into the two of you, but I've had just about enough of this shit."

Shyvana's expression steeled as she prepared to sneer a response. She had only just opened her mouth to respond her her rotated, his eyes tracking her like a turret.

"Stow it, before I stow you!" Jarvan said, poking her chest with a finger. "And I don't want to hear anything from you, either." He snapped wheeling about to glower at Quinn who's triumphant smirk was immediately crushed.

"Prince Jarvan." Isaacs said stiffly, his stance oddly martial. His body had reflexively snapped to that of a much younger man getting berated by a drill instructor on his first day of Basic Training and he had to fight from not cringing with every word Jarvan spoke. What had seemed to be a beautiful, budding relationship between him and the young dragoness, something he had long tried to advise the Prince to take interest in, was now fraying apart at the seams.

"This seems so pointless." Shyvana muttered, starting to turn away.

"Goddammit." Jarvan muttered, scratching the back of his head furiously, his anger starting to boil up again.

"Why don't we ju-..." Shyvana was half way through her sentence when Jarvan grabbed her around the mid section and hauled her onto his shoulder. "Hey wait!"

"That's it." He interjected as the writhing dragoness tried to escape his grasp. "I'm going to take a moment and speak with her, privately. If you'll excuse me." He nodded his head to both Isaacs and Forsythe and then turned and hauled Shyvana off into the forest, glowering as he went.

"Let me down!" Shyvana shouted, beating her fist against Jarvan's back. "Dammit, I said let me down!"

Isaacs, Quinn and Forsythe stood speechless as the disappeared into the woods.

"Dammit, Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted, struggling against his iron grip. "I said let me down!" Jarvan finally stopped walking and lifted her from his shoulder and set her down on a rock. She started to get up to storm off, but Jarvan pushed her back down.

"Sit." He ordered, dropping his pack. She started to get up again. "SIT!" He bellowed. The look of surprise and hurt upon her face was obvious and pained Jarvan, but he wasn't about to let this continue. He lay his lance up against a tree before sitting down on a rock facing directly at Shyvana.

"Do me a favor and just listen." Jarvan said, frowning. Shyvana opened her mouth to protest, but Jarvan hung his head and sighed.

"Fine." She crossed her arm over her chest, but she couldn't help but sneak a peek at Jarvan. He had a pained look on his face at her response which caused her heart to ache, but she also was conflicted. Part of her felt both angry and hurt, and she didn't understand why, but another part of her felt bad for the trouble she was causing.

"I don't know what has gotten into you." Jarvan said, his holding his face in his hands. "But if you want to remain with us and see this to the end, you need to cut this crap out." Jarvan sounded tired, and he looked as if he was already regretting his saying these words. "I don't know what the hell happened between you and Quinn, and frankly, I don't give a damn, but I'm not going to put up with all this random crap flying back and forth between the two of you. It's getting on my nerves, and it's not like you. She's just a young girl, and you're above this." Jarvan shook his head.

"You're actually defending her?" Shyvana said, blinking rapidly, as if she had just been stunned.

"I'm not defending her, but you wouldn't even talk to me about it before." Jarvan scowled. "I have no idea what the hell happened, and you refuse to talk to me about it, so I can't do anything to help either."

"Who says I need your help?" Shyvana shot back angrily. "You've got a pretty, young Demacian girl fawning all over you and you think I need your help?" She snarled gutterly, the sound getting caught in her throat as if she could bring herself to be angry enough. "You're just a stuck up prince who is only thinking about himself. Hell, I bet you've got a line of women waiting at home who would gladly jump in bed with you."

The comment completely froze Jarvan in place as the comment registered through his mind. He had to check once, twice, three times to make sure he had heard her correct, but he could still hardly believe the words she had just uttered.

"Wait a minute..." Jarvan said, raising his hands. "You... you think there is something between me and Quinn?" His mouth still hung ajar as he stared at Shyvana who had suddenly become very uncomfortable where she sat, squirming.

"I..." She shook her head as if she were trying to get some horrid thought out of her mind. "I don't know!" She said, tears welling in her eyes. "How do I know something isn't happening between you humans?" She wrapped her arms around herself as Jarvan saw tears begin to well in her eyes.

"Whoa now, what?" Jarvan shook his head, and pulled himself up into a kneeling stance before her. "Shyvana..."

"Don't try and get close to me!" She said, shaking her head, sending tears falling to the ground. "You humans are all the same! You only care about yourselves and you just end up using me and casting me aside in the end."

"You're trying to make something out of nothing here, Shy..." Jarvan said, gently putting his hand upon her knees. She paused, opening her eyes and looking down at his hands, but she shook her head clamped her eyes shut.

"No, It's always the same." She said, turning away from him and shoving his hands off her legs. "You humans are greedy, selfish creatures and you only care for your own!" Tears began to stream down her face. "I hate humans... they're always so predictable... that's why you keep defending that girl." Shyvana said accusingly. "She's a human and I'm only a filthy beast."

"Shy..." His voice cracked as he tried to keep his composure. He started to reach out towards her, but she knocked his hand aside.

"Don't!" She shook her head and hid her face with her hands, stepping back and tripping on the rock she had been sitting on.

"Dammit, Shyvana!" Jarvan grabbed her shoulders and shook her, as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at him defiantly, her magenta orbs burning defiantly on top of tear streaked cheeks and beneath uneven bangs. She bore her teeth at him, long fangs showing as she started to growl. "Get a hold of yourself and think!"

"You think you know everything!" She snapped back, flames emanating from her body and passing over Jarvan's armor. He could feel the heat upon his skin rapidly climbing as blisters started to form on his skin. "You humans are all the same! I hate you!"

The words rocked Jarvan back onto his heals. His hands fell away from her, his gauntlets clinking against his waist plates. Shyvana seemed surprised by her own words and she clasped her hands over her mouth as soon as they escaped her lips, the look of surprise clear across her face. Jarvan stood up, a hurt expression upon his face, leaving Shyvana suddenly feeling very alone as his presence seemed to withdraw from her world.

_Now I've done it... I've ruined it all..._ She shook her head tearfully, not wanting to believe that she had said something so foolish. _How could I... _

Her head cranked around to the side suddenly, and Shyvana nearly toppled over from the force of a blow that caught her on the cheek. The burning sensation on her cheek slowly started to fade in as the fog in her mind started to fade, the realization of the shock dissipating.

Her jaw worked slowly as she struggled to form words. "...what?" She gasped, falling back against the rock she had been sitting on before.

"Just shut up." Jarvan said, shaking his head and grabbing her by the shoulders, pressing his lips firmly against hers. She was startled and tried to resist, but he held her firm and she finally stop her resistance and pushed back against his embrace. Jarvan had to come up from air, pulling back as she followed his lips. She blushed and glanced away sheepishly.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong... and honestly I don't fucking care. I don't and I never did claim to know everything. If you still want to kill Kampf, we will help you do that." He paused, looking towards where the sun was starting to crawl towards the horizon. "Just keep in mind, we're going after him regardless of you." He picked up his pack and tossed it over his shoulder and then snaked his arm through the second strap with some difficulty. He posted his lance in the dirt and turned halfway towards her and met her gaze. "By my will, I shall see this finished." He said resolutely, a stubborn frown upon his face. "With... or without you."

He started to step away, but Shyvana reached out and grabbed his hand. He looked over his shoulder, and down to where Shyvana's head hung and tears dripped from her face, small darkened splotches upon the ground below her.

"Jarvan... I..."

"You what?" Jarvan said, anger flashing through his eyes. Her hand dropped away. "You expect me to think less of you for a a comment I know to not be true? Fine. I might for a few moments, but then I realize we're all merely human, even if you're only _half-_human." He shifted from foot to foot, but then reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking his head. "Look Shyvana, I know how difficult life can be sometimes. I'm not asking for you to tell me everything and to let me live your life for you... I only hope you have the self respect to let me help you when something is wrong." He raised his lance and planted the butt deep into the dirt, leaving the lance free standing. "And I'd hope you love and trust me enough to help you if you need it." He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I..." Her voice trailed off.

"Take some time and collect yourself." He said starting to turn away.

"Jarvan!" She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him, her chest heaving silently. Jarvan wore a crooked grin as he wrapped an arm around her and held her head with his other hand, gently stroking her hair.

"Quiet now, It's okay, love." He said, kissing the top of her head. She sobbed a few times then fell silent, her chest rising and falling against him. "Better now?" She nodded slowly. She stood back and wiped her tears as he ran a hand along her red hair. He brushed a lock oh hair behind her hand and cupped her cheek, lifting her eyes up to look at him.

"I'm sorry..." She said softly, nuzzling his hand.

"Don't be..." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Just... lets not let this happen again. If you need to ever talk, just ask. If it ever comes to it... we can go at it. One on one, just you and me." She nodded, wiping a tear from her eye with her hand.

"I'll be behind you in a few... I just... I need some time alone." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath. Jarvan nodded and turned, pausing to look back over her shoulder.

"I'll be close by if you need me." He picked up his lance and disappeared into the brush.

* * *

"The yelling finally died down..." Forsythe said, a frown upon his face. "You think they finally made up?"

"I don't know." Isaacs said, shaking his head. He sighed, his normally sunny, sarcastic outlook was uncharacteristically sullen. He almost had a one liner or joke to try and raise the spirits of his men, but he was so worried about what was going on he couldn't even think straight enough to come up with a witty response.

"I feel like this is all my fault..." Quinn said, hugging her knees to her chest. Valor sat on her shoulder defensively, looking down at her, wondering just what was wrong with his master. He nudged her head with his beak, cooing softly as he did. She chuckled softly, running a few fingers along his head and down his chest, smiling. "Thanks, Val."

"What do you mean?" Forsythe said, frowning. He leaned against a tree, holding his great sword before him, resting his hands upon the hilt.

"I may have started all of this when I was in a foul mood back in the conifer basin..." She frowned as she thought back, laying her cheek across her knees. "I said some things and... shortly after that was when Shyvana left the camp..."

"And you didn't tell us this before?" Isaacs said, doing his best to hold the anger from his voice.

"...I didn't want to get fired." She said quietly, afraid of the retribution that might follow. "I like this job and I enjoy working for you... I suppose if you knew that I had started this..."

"I doubt that's what this is really about." Isaacs said with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, the wrinkles on his face seeming to deepen as he did, the age and wear he had seen suddenly showing through.

"You think?" Quinn said nervously. Isaacs shrugged and looked back to the road, pulling his cloak tighter around him.

"I had hopes for the two of them, but at this point... who knows." Isaacs frowned as a cart trundled past. He looked skyward as Quinn and Forsythe started talking quietly between themselves. Isaacs watched as the breeze blew leaves from the tree and sent them fluttering to the ground. A rustling behind them caused Isaacs to shift and for both Quinn and Forsythe to quiet down. Jarvan stalked out of the woods, a calm if irritable expression on his face.

"Captain?" Forsythe said as Jarvan strode past, but Jarvan simply ignored him. He stepped to the road, looked up and down the stretch of cobbled pathway before he turned back and leaned against a tree. He slowly sunk to the ground before sighing heavily and letting his head hang back.

Forsythe started to move towards him, but Isaacs caught his shoulder and shook his head discreetly, waving him further away.

"It seems like things went a bit better than expected." Isaacs said after pulling the two aside, well out of ear shot of where the prince sat upon the ground. Isaacs turned them away from the prince, trying to keep them from looking while the Prince's shoulders rose and fell a bit faster than they should. Isaacs couldn't tell if he was crying or just resting his eyes, but either way he could only hope that the two of them had come to some sort of resolution. Forsythe turned to Quinn, his face a mask of anger and confusion as he looked her up and down.

'What exactly _did _you say?" He hissed angrily. "In nearly four years, I've never seen the Prince like this..."

"I... I don't know." Quinn said, a frown crossing her face. "I may have said somethings to her... implied some other things, but I didn't think it had actually gotten through to her..."

"Well obviously something did!" Forsythe hissed, angrily.

"Shhh!" Isaacs hissed, holding a finger to his lips.

"What... do you hear something?" Forsythe hissed, his hand jumping to his shoulder where is great sword was held in it's scabbard. Isaacs shook his head discreetly waiting a few moments before his sighed.

"...No, just enjoying the silence." Isaacs said, trying to lighten the mood. Forsythe scowled, but shut his mouth letting the silence get carried away on the rustle of the leaves around them. Isaacs put on a brave smile, trying to hide away the pain he felt at seeing Jarvan like this. He had thought the young one's romance was going to blossom into something beautiful that would have kept Jarvan grounded and stable in a world where his life had often lacked true stability, but now, he wasn't so sure. He growled, wondering just what was going on.

He sat down with his back to a tree, watching Jarvan out of his peripheral vision.

Jarvan still sat against the tree, staring out into the sky.

* * *

Isaacs yawned, struggling to sit up, looking left and right. Forsythe and Quinn sat off to the side, carrying a quiet conversation amongst themselves. Isaacs rubbed his eyes and looked up to the sky, the sun now starting it's final descent towards the horizon. The chilly autumn air had settled as he picked leaves from his tunic, casting them aside. He pushed himself into a sitting position and Forsythe and Quinn fell silent.

"How long was I out?" Isaacs asked, wiping a strand of drool from his chin. Quinn hid a smile, and Forsythe grinned, shaking his head.

"About an hour." Forsythe said, looking towards the sky, shrugging. "Nothings happened, so we let you sleep."

"No change with Jarvan or Shyvana?" Isaacs said, rubbing his eyes and shaking the sleep from his head.

"Well..." Forsythe started to say, but he trailed off.

"Prince Jarvan hasn't moved or spoken at all." Quinn said, gesturing to where the prince still sat against the tree. He looked skyward though, staring at the pale stars that were starting to show through the darkening blue sky. Clouds rolled lazily by, pale wispy things that just cruised slowly by upon the winds. "Shyvana has yet to emerge from the forest..." Quinn's voice trailed off.

"I see." Isaacs said, shaking his head. He sighed, scratching his head. "Well..." He struggled to his feet, his aching bones screaming in protest against the cold and the awkward resting position he had been in for several hours. He moved towards where Jarvan still sat against the tree, stopping a few feet from him. "Captain?"

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Jarvan said looking over at Isaacs.. He wore a serene expression, though his eyes betrayed the mixture of pain, anger and confusion he felt.

"I... uh..." Isaacs frowned. He had no idea how to put his question nicely. He didn't know how Jarvan was going to react and he had no idea how to approach the situation. Jarvan had always been the emotional rock among the unit, his steadfast determination often rising above the emotions he had shown. The confusion regarding his emotional status left Isaacs feeling uncomfortable to say the least. "What's the plan, sir." Isaacs said, uneasily.

"You want to know what happened with Shyvana, don't you." Jarvan smiled haggardly, leaning back against the tree. Isaacs simply nodded, looking over his shoulder to where Forsythe and Quinn sat quietly chatting still, both of them glancing towards them occasionally.

"Yes sir." Isaacs said, frowning.

"I don't know why or when... but Shyvana doesn't exactly like Quinn. She apparently had some idea that something was happening between us and was upset and unsure of how to handle it." He sighed. "Hell, I don't know how to handle it." He shook his head and lay back against the tree, a lopsided grin on his face. "I don't understand women at all." He said, shaking his head. "She doesn't seem comfortable around Forsythe either, but she seems easy enough around you." Jarvan glanced up at the Lieutenant. "That _charming_ nature of yours seems to work on the ladies as much as it works on trainees."

"Ha!" Isaacs said, trying to keep his elation of his face. "To hear it was a lover quarrel and not something much worse... It's good to hear, captain."

"You and me both." Jarvan said, yawning.

"Yessir." Isaacs said, nodding. "So... now what?"

"Same as before." Jarvan said slowly. He looked haggard and tired, like he had been awake for a period of days, much of the time spend fighting. He had seen the look before on many men he had served with. He seemed emotionally and physically drained at the very least. Isaacs wasn't sure, but Jarvan looked ready to get home. He looked like he was worn out,and ready to get back to life back in Demacia. It was a look Isaacs had seen on his own face and the other men many a time, but Jarvan was one of the few who he had not seen it on. It was a good sign, and it meant they would probably be heading home soon.

"How much longer should we wait?" Isaacs said, trying to ask the question as tactfully as possible. Jarvan looked to the ground before him and then held a hand in front of his face, his jaw working slowly.

"No longer, I suppose." He said quietly. He teetered on one knee as he got to his feet, the heavy pack threatening to send him toppling over. After some leveraging, Jarvan finally hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the hand that Isaacs had held out for him.

"What of the Prin-... Shyvana, sire?" Isaacs said. Something dangerous flashed through Jarvan's eyes, as if an ember had suddenly been it and then just as quickly died.

"What about her?" He said, adjusting his gauntlet and looking down at Isaacs.

"We're not going to leave her, right?" Isaacs said hesitantly.

"Of course not." Jarvan said, shaking his head, looking up from where he was adjusting the strap on his arm.

"Yes sir." Isaacs said quietly, turning away. A rustling behind them caused a smile to worm it's way onto his face as Shyvana emerged from the brush, her red hair blending with the crimson and golden leaves that hung in the air. The colors glowed against her hair like fire, and the grim look of determination on her face told Isaacs that she was ready to complete her quest, the death of Kampf. Her eyes were bleary and Isaacs could tell that she had been crying, but there was something deeper inside those glowing eyes that unsettled him. It was something unnatural, something bestial deep within that now stirred. Isaacs was unsettled, but he trusted Jarvan completely, and he wanted to believe in Shyvana as well.

"We move at once." Jarvan said, locking gazes with her, and then nodding silently. She closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, nodding back calmly at Jarvan. She looked as if she were going to speak, but she said nothing, merely waiting for Jarvan's lead.

As if on queue, Jarvan stood, and with his lance in hand he stepped onto the path, heading towards Noxus and the outskirts of the city where the key to Kampf hopefully waited. Isaacs watched as Forsythe and Quinn both uneasily fell in, following him along the road. This left Shyvana with Isaacs as she silently watched them move off, and silence swirled around them.

"Do you want to talk?" Isaacs said, gesturing towards the road. She said nothing but fell in beside him, remaining silent. Her head was bowed and she stared at the ground as they walked. "Look... I don't know what the hell happened between the two of you, and frankly... it's none of my damned business, but I hope you two have worked out your issues..."

"Lieutenant..." Shyvana said, looking up at him as they walked.

"Just call me Isaacs... or hell, Valin or Val works too." He said as he shrugged, watching where he put his feet on the rough cobbles.

"What do you care about me?" Shyvana said flatly. She looked up from behind her bangs, her magenta orbs floating amid the darkness. She wore a conflicted frown, and the confusion and surprise on his face must have been evident, cause she was struggling not to grin at his goofy expression.

"I care a great deal, actually." Isaacs said, trying to keep the pain he felt from his voice. Silence followed for a few minutes, only the leaves dancing upon the wind to break the silence. Their footfalls run out occasionally whenever they had to struggle over the path or a root that had twisted it's way up through the stone. Shyvana's dark gaze looked up from the ground towards the sky, her eyes glowing dimly in the waning light.

"Why though?" She said after a few minutes of silence, casting a sideways glance at the older officer. He had a hard glare that watched the sky, a conflict of emotion playing over his face. He scratched the back of his head and frowned.

"All of my men are ...were like children to me. ." Isaacs said with a sad grin. "To see one of them truly fall in love for the first time..." Isaacs shrugged. "Why wouldn't I care for the beautiful young woman whom he had fallen in love with?" He smiled at her and she blushed furiously, her gaze now glued back upon the ground. More silence followed as she continued to mull things over in her head.

"But I'm just a filthy half-beast..." Shyvana said slowing down, falling out of step with Isaacs. "Why would he love me? How could he love me..."

"You need to really cut that shit out." Isaacs said, sighing and rubbing the back of his head as he looked down his nose as Shyvana with one eye closed.

"What?" She said, frowning, looking surprised.

"Belittling yourself." He said, grinning. "It's hardly befitting a princess." She blushed furiously again.

"I... uh..." She stared furiously at the ground, her face nearly the same shade of red as her hair.

"I know this: He loves you more than anything, believe it or not." Isaacs growled. "You two went through hell together and you came out no worse for ware, so you best out this little hiccup behind you." He tried to look menacing, but the gesture only served to make Shyvana laugh. Isaacs smiled, happy to hear that the young dragoness was still able to laugh. "He's a bit thick-skinned if you know what I mean... sometimes... he likes to just bottle it all up to try and protect everyone else. Get close to him and he might open up to you, he's only once ever opened up to me though, so good luck with that." A sad look soon befell her happy expression.

"And how would I do that?" Shyvana said, leaning forward and tilting her head to the side as she watched Isaacs facial expression morph from a giddy grin to a much calmer smile.

"You might want to just go for the direct one-two punch." Isaacs said, shrugging. "Just be direct and you'll get through to him." Isaacs grinned as he watched her think. "Don't give it too much thought, though, It's only been a single day since this started -and as far as I can tell- blew over, so you needn't trouble yourself too much about trying to bear all of the blame." He patted her on the forearm tenderly, causing her to shrink back only a fraction of an inch, but Isaacs had been watching for it.

"I just... I suppose this was all my fault then, wasn't it?" She said, looking up at Isaacs, a distraught expression upon her face. "I feel so stupid..." Isaacs stopped and turned towards the young dragoness, posting his fists upon his hips, a frown upon his face as he looked at her with a stern glare.

"If you want pity, I don't know what to tell you." Isaacs said, shrugging. "I just want the best for the both of you and in the process of a single day, gone from the honey moon, to nearly throwing it all away, to now... I don't even know what." He said, shaking his head flustered. "And for what? An innocent little girl who has a crush on a prince? Hell, not so long ago you weren't much different from her. But you know what? Jarvan loves you. YOU. Not her. So just drop it and lets move on."

"Yes... I'm sorry..." She said, shaking her head, one hand upon her other arm, rubbing the armor nervously.

"You don't have to apologize..." Isaacs said, sighing. He grumbled for a few moments, rubbing the back of his head again. "...just... Let him know you care, alright?" Shyvana blushed again, but nodded, a smile upon her face.

"I will..." She said softly.

"Go catch up with him." Isaacs said, smiling to himself, his hand upon his sword. "I'll bring up the rear." She nodded and took off a trot. She steered clear of Forsythe and Quinn, and caught up with Jarvan. Isaacs smiled as he watched them begin to talk. Shyvana hesitated a few moments, her hand reaching out towards Jarvan's hand. She paused, and Isaacs frowned, waiting for her to make her move. She brushed a finger against his hand and started to pull it back when he reached out and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers.

Isaacs breathed a sigh of relief, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he set his hand upon his sword.

_Things are as they should be._


End file.
