[Fan fiction] "Shadows and Sunlight" Part V
Celebrating the start of a second month of fan fiction Fridays with another entry in my ongoing story, "Shadows and Sunlight". I'm going to take a break after this week to see if I can find an artist who wants to do some quick sketches of key scenes in upcoming episodes.
Here comes the boilerplate. Don't recognize the boilerplate? That probably means you missed part one, part two, part three, and part four; I recommend checking them out although you could cheat and read the TL;DR included before the action kicks off in this one.
I love the League of Legends world; stories of Runeterra, her cities and her characters, are fascinating. Like most players, I'm not on the narrative team. But, like a few of us, I dabble in short stories and novellas whose main characters are League champions.
Sharing my own stories is my attempt at finding a consistent meeting place and time for players who love lore, narrative and the craft of writing to get together and let our imaginations get all new age-y, running wild.
As a reminder, I am not a member of the narrative team. My words are as canonical as they are alphabetical. Which is to say, not at all. In fact, I probably go off-canon at points. But I won't waste any more of your time, here's the next section of my fan fiction, "Shadows and Sunlight."
##The story so far…
When Katarina du Couteau, a fiery-haired young assassin, learns a nobleman named Anton Swain is kidnapping girls from the Sinister Blade, she crashes his manor. After defeating his guards, Katarina's challenge against Anton is interrupted by her father. Meanwhile, Sarah Fortune sells black magic items to Jericho Swain, and Katarina learns she will face Noxian justice alongside Anton. Jericho Swain's plans are coming to fruition, and Darius counsels Katarina.
##Shadows and Sunlight ##Part V: Blades and Barristers
The sky smoldered on the faintest edges of horizon, but beneath the stars the city slept bathed in black. Miss Fortune turned away from the great bay window that overlooked the rest of the Torchlight Quarter of Noxus. She sat down on the bed, curling around a velvet-wrapped pillow and stroking the ornate gilded hourglass Barret had brought back from the ship.
"How many nephews do you think General Swain has?" she asked her executive officer, who was perched in a nearby chair, reading a dirt-stained tome with yellow pages.
"At least as many as me," he replied without looking up from his book.
Sarah sat up, "Wait. How many nephews do you have?"
"Nine. I've got four brothers, one sister. Admittedly, six of the nine nephews are my oldest sister's. She's got eight little ones."
"Blood, I would never do that to myself. He's got to have at least a dozen then, right? He shouldn't have seemed so worried about one of them."
Barret finally marked his place in the volume resting on his knees and looked up at Sarah. "Well, Swain doesn't have any brothers or sisters. One half-sister who married a viscount who had a son by a twopenny jenny who had a son they named Anton Jericho, after his incredibly distant and unconnected by blood relation."
Sarah Fortune glared at him. "So he has one nephew? That's less than you have."
"Ah, but Swain does have uncles and aunts by marriage, who have children, some of whom are boys. More nephews. But not technically Swain's."
Sarah went back to ignoring him, admiring the golden bauble. "Thanks for the reminder why I shouldn't care a squid's fart about the Noxian court or her bloodlines."
"I'd have thought I was reminding you of why you should. Jericho Swain hadn't so much as acknowledged the boy's existence with a visit before now. He'd never mentioned him in public before."
She wasn't impressed. "There's a lot of things I don't mention in public."
"You aren't a general in the Noxian military," he said, finding his spot within the book and resuming his position on the chair.
"Thank the sea gods for small favors."
Barret stood up, leaving his book on the chair's cushion. Sarah raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, "I think I should investigate."
She nodded, holding up the hourglass. "I'm sure this'll convince him to return for at least one more visit. If you're sure it's real."
"It's real, captain."
"That's what you said about the last dancing boy you sent back to my cabin. Remember how that turned out?" she challenged, sipping from an gem-studded chalice.
Barret frowned as a knock sounded at the door. He stood to answer it.
Sarah couldn't see who was in the hallway, but she heard a young woman's voice.
"A raven came today, for Miss Fortune," it said. Sarah set her goblet and the hourglass aside and leapt to the door.
"Just so you know, most people don’t call me that when I'm around."
The dancing girl blanched. She proffered an apology without looking Sarah Fortune in the eyes.
"Ignore her," Barret pacified the frightened woman. "What was the message?"
"Don't ignore me," Sarah interjected, "tell us the message, and don't call me that again unless I've had more than a few more drinks."
The dancer curtsied, an awkward movement in a short slit skirt. "J.S. requests an audience in your chambers at first light. To take possession of the trinket," she read from a missive scrawled on a sheet of tattered goatskin.
Sarah seized the note and shooed away the barmaid.
Barret grunted and shook his head, "He would call it a trinket."
"I call it a trinket," Sarah muttered, turning the bark over to see if anything else had been inscribed. "It looks like a trinket."
"So long as he's willing to pay poundweight in gold coins, you can both call it whatever you want."
Sarah beamed, cradling the hourglass. "I shall name it," she paused, considering. "The Unwieldy Cylinder of Forbidden Knowledge."
"When I say whatever," Barret said, coughing, "I mean anything but that."
With most of what little she owned still stuffed in a senior dorm back at the Sinister Blade, Katarina's wing of the Du Couteau mansion was sparse. In a space likely intended for a spare bedroom, she'd set up a series of targets on swinging chains and pulleys for throwing practice. Katarina, Evanie and Darius sat around a chopped-up, crooked wooden table.
"So does your brother have anyone," Evanie mused, "special, in his life?"
Darius didn't bother pretending to be comfortable. "I wouldn't say that. No."
"I bet he gets a lot of--"
"Darius," Katarina interrupted. "Do you have to sit with us the entire day? I can't imagine you don't have more important things to do than babysit."
"Do any of your plans involve seeing Draven?" Evanie jumped back in the conversation before Darius could say anything to Kat. "We could come with you." She picked at a splintered divot in the table, clearly failing at not seeming overeager.
"I keep telling you, Katarina. This is more serious than you are willing--"
"To admit?" Katarina cut him off. "I'm serious. She's the one you can't take serious," she said, pointing at Evanie. Darius looked at the younger noble. He shrugged.
"She seems bent on meeting my brother. I think she's serious."
Katarina frowned as Evanie lit up the dim practice room with her ridiculous smile. "As a kidney strike," she mumbled.
"But, you're right," Darius said.
"You do have plans with Draven?" Evanie asked.
"What, no," Katarina replied for him. "You have something else to attend to?" she asked, her eyes pleading with the Noxian commander.
"I do. Your father is sending along another guard to watch you. Someone you know."
The door to the room swung open and Talon Carven emerged from the corridor. He swept his razor-tipped cloak behind him and bowed.
"Evanie," he nodded before focusing his attention on Katarina. "Kat," he bowed again. "Your father told me what you girls have been up to." He looked back over at Evanie, who was staring as if she hoped her furrowed brow would cow the Crimson Elite shadowcloak.
"How long were you waiting at the door to make that entrance?" Evanie challenged, Katarina broke out laughing, a sound like sharpened steel.
Talon ignored her, taking a seat next to Darius on a stool with three legs. The fourth had been the victim of an unexpected duel against an armed attacker. He'd switched to the stool after Katarina took away both his swords.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Talon finally responded. He turned toward Darius. Katarina seized Darius' hand. "You don't need to leave him with us. We can handle ourselves." "Or I could go with you," Evanie chirped. "Check in with Draven. There's a court martial. Could need an executioner."
Talon's jaw slapped against his chest. "You say that with Kat in the room?"
"Not for her, idiot."
Darius cut off their squabbling. "Lady du Couteau, I must attend my other duty. Talon will watch over you. Please, for your father's sake, try not to kill anyone else."
"I will," Katarina placated him.
"Shouldn't have invited that guy around then," Evanie mumbled, her thumb jutting out at Talon.
"I really dislike you, you know--"
"Thank you, Darius," Katarina said, her voice a wedge in Talon's mouth.
Evanie issued a command, "Say hello to Draven for me."
"Dai luta, Darius." Talon declined his head, raising two fingers to his brow. Darius returned the salute and left with a curt bow for Evanie and a longer bow for the lady of the house. After he'd gone, Evanie pouted.
"Are we going to sit in here all day?" she asked.
"No," Katarina said. "I need to figure out what my father is planning. And what I'm going to do if he goes through with it."
"We could, I'm just offering, ask him?" Talon proposed.
"Why don't you go ask him?" Evanie batted her eyelashes until her eyes glistened, nearly tearing up. It had an effect on Talon. Just not the one she was going for. His expression pleaded for reprieve from Katarina, but Evanie spoke up. "Are we going to the bolt hole?" she asked her friend.
Katarina nodded.
Talon protested, "I told you," he went on. "Boltholes are for rabbits."
