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-   -   A Light in the Desert (NasusxLux) (http://forums.na.leagueoflegends.com/board/showthread.php?t=2385286)

Eyowyn 07-21-2012 11:47 PM

A Light in the Desert (NasusxLux)
NEW Part Two, Chapter 4: Orb of Deception is up! <---link to chapter on ff.net


AoD-The Sands


I want fan art!

((My first time posting here! A friend and I tend to play Lux and Nasus together. The idea for this came from when I was looking at the various threads about Lux pairings, and asked him who he thought she'd be best suited for, as she's his favorite character.
He said Nasus (d'aww) and boom! the fanfic idea was born.

((Edit: Oh, lord, there were 6 people on the opposing team. I fixes it.
Also, I've gotten inspired to write more, so this is getting a chapter title. Stay tuned for more!))

((Edit2: Oh god, the RivenxLux fic's first chapter is called Dawn, too. Go me for originality. Oh, spork everything. It stays!))

Chapter 1: Dawn

Humans are so fragile, he thinks, watching the tiny creature run behind him, arms and legs flailing violently in an attempt to keep up with his great strides. The female seems smaller than she is, to his eyes, perhaps because she does not wear the armor of the men.

To be fair, he hasn’t actually seen any female humans with their skin covered before.
He slows to a halt by the last of the great towers in his lane to adjust the straps and buckles of his own armor. The metal hums under his fingers—it longs, he thinks, for the scorching sands of his homeworld. This place…what do the humans call it?

He thinks a moment, watching the female human slow to a fast walk as she nears him.


Whatever it is called, it is insufferably cold and damp. His jade staff numbs his fingers.
“What’s your name again?” the female asks him. She carries an aura of such
concentrated optimism that it is faintly sickening. He fights valiantly against the smile twitching on his lips.

“I am Nasus,” he says, meeting her eyes (respect that she does not deserve) and giving the slightest of nods, “Curator of the Sands.”

“I remember now!” she says, a grin stretching her face. He sighs quietly.

“Yes, Nasus, Curator of the Sands—“

She remembers what he has said not ten seconds ago. Impressive mental fortitude for a female human, he thinks, recalling other partners in League matches past.

“You were the keeper of your planet’s knowledge, guarding it from those that would use it for selfish purposes—the greatest scholar in all the worlds!” she gushes onwards, and now he is faintly bewildered. Her little face crinkles up as she taps out a rapid beat on the side of her leg with the baton on her hand.

“There was a conflict between those of your kind—like Kayle and Morgana. Your brother—“

“Do not speak his name!” he roars, springing to life like one of the enchanted stone tekepi in his libraries. His grip on his staff tightens until his fingers begin to ache.

The human female looks at him, wide-eyed and frightened, her baton raised in front of her protectively.

“Humans,” he snorts, turning away from her. “Sometimes I understand why there were those on my homeworld that thought you should be ruled.”

Already his mind is elsewhere, away from the irritating female, preparing for the battle to come. He steps forwards, away from the tower, as he looks towards the lane.

And into the face of Renekton.

The damp air of the alien planet freezes in his lungs as the malignant gaze of his brother fixes on him, paralyzing him more readily than any toxin. His glaive is already in motion, hurtling towards his head. Something brushes past his face, but instinct has taken over and he has no time for thought. The pages of a million scrolls fill his mind and his staff thrums in his hands as he brings it around in a desperate arc towards Renekton’s side.
It connects. The energy surges out and wracks his brother’s body, pulling out a part of his lifeforce and dragging it back through the staff and into the Curator of the Sands. But…there are no wounds to heal.

He blinks. There is light, blazing all around Renekton, outlining every last scale. The Butcher of the Sands can only move his eyes.

The female stands with her baton outstretched, blue eyes—eyes like the desert sky, he thinks, as the light spills from her as if she is the sun—fixed on him.

“Are you alright?” she demands, pointing at Renekton. A bolt shoots from the end of the baton and ignites the prison around him. He collapses to the ground, roaring in agony, before the summoner’s light envelops him and he is whisked away.

Nasus opens his mouth to say something, anything, but is interrupted by the sudden flash of terror on the female’s face. The shadows twitch around her, and a thing with blades rears out of nothingness, starting to laugh…before it meets Nasus’ heavily armored shoulder, driving it to the ground as he sweeps out a hand and forces the female back closer to the tower. His jade staff drinks up its essence as he stabs it through the path of darkness that looks like its head, but before he can truly kill it, it flees, the thing of fear reduced to fear.

Nasus takes a slow, deep breath, and rises from his knees.

“What is your name?” he asks, watching what looks like blood spill across her pale cheeks.

“Luxanna. Lux,” she says. She looks nervously towards the brush, and Nasus touches her back in a gesture he believes is interpreted as comforting before he grips his staff more firmly and walks out to look for any more enemy champions.

It is later, when he catches sight of her running, the pale silk of her hair drenched in blood, the demon shadow closing in on her. The rest of the enemy team is just behind her. He pays them no mind and charges past her, drowning the shadow in quicksand and invoking fire from the earth under the feet of the advancing champions. He roars an incantation and hurtles past the hideous flesh creature at the van to slam into the winged female as the desert’s fury erupts around him and through him, turning his skin to stone and changing the blood the sandstorm sheds into pure, bright power. Then they are upon him. A fusillade of spells from the fox woman and the winged female find their mark in his flesh, a hail of blows from the demon shadow and the undead abomination breaks through the protective embrace of the stone, and a vicious strike from his brother tears open his chest. He lays about him with his staff, drinking in their life energy to slow the death he knows is approaching. Dark cords wrap themselves around his body and the winged female, clutching at her side where a vivid bruise is forming on her pale skin, points at him.
He closes his eyes and reaches for the summoner.

Did she survive?

Yes, Nasus. Good work.

He raises his staff for one last blow, and the dark cords tighten, forcing him to his knees. He manages to smash the tip into the winged female before her spell finishes.

The shadows explode, and he sighs as he falls into darkness.

CipherX 07-22-2012 12:42 PM

Sounds good so far. :D

Kenson 07-22-2012 01:42 PM

Nasus. I always thought he was cool, and was sad there wasn't a fanfic for him... I guess there's one now! I look forward to seeing more.

Eyowyn 07-22-2012 11:15 PM

Chapter 2: Sunrise

They end up winning the battle. Nasus stands quietly by himself as the shards of the enemy Nexus rain down on his team, leaning on his staff and indulging in a moment of exhaustion. He’d died several times during the match, and although his sacrifices had kept the more fragile members of his team alive, it was…disconcerting, at least, to die and live again.

He feels sudden warmth and looks up to see Soraka smiling gently at him, her thin fingers wreathed in light. She is one of the champions whose name he has bothered to learn. Her form…comforts him, in a way. She is much too small, of course, and her face is far too human, but her furred legs and shining horn reminds him of the ram-headed of his kin.

“Thank you, Starchild,” he rumbles, exhaling slowly as the heat sinks through his body, wiping away pain and weariness.

“You volunteered for the match against Noxus,” she reminds him, her hooves clicking on the stones as she bends to pick up a piece of the enemy Nexus, “It’s the least I can do, Curator of the Sands.”

“The summoner needed little encouragement,” he says, looking over her shoulders at the Noxian team. They were almost universally wearing snarls, except for the fox woman, who stares back at him.

“Ionia needed the victory,” she says softly, glancing at him.

He growls softly and turns away from her, feeling his body ripple between flesh and stone as he stares off over the forest. He has devoured every scrap of knowledge thrust his way since he was summoned to this world, and he knows of Ionia’s plight. If it moved him, ever so briefly, to pity…what of it? Was there an obligation, now?

He snarls, his hands tightening around his staff, and fills his mind with memories of the dusty shadows of his library. He can almost hear the timid footsteps of the humans, drifting through the shelves in wonder, the louder, but still respectful tread of his own kind.

Someone touches him and he shudders back to the present.

“What is it now?” he growls. He is forced to peer around to find the source of his interruption, a tiny bundle at his feet. Oh, spirits. Not one of the small creatures. Registana help him.

“We’re to go to the summoning platform,” it squeaks, and he winces.

“Yes, yes,” he grumbles, squaring his shoulders and following the little speck, wincing whenever it bumped into him and shocked him. He falls in beside the Ionian bladesman and watches the small creature zip into place between him and Soraka. To his right, the pale human—no, she is…Luxanna—stands quietly, her lips trembling.

He realizes that she is speaking, hissing words under her breath.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all,” she murmurs, over and over.

He is entirely unsure what to do. Was this normal behavior for a human? He shifts uneasily. She looks…unwell.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

The voice of the League announcer booms out suddenly and he uses all his will to keep himself from flinching. He is Nasus! Stoic. Untouchable.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

“Ionia is victorious! The unconditional release of the prisoners taken during the Noxian invasion has been won! The Noxian High Council is at this moment finalizing the preparations for their release! Congratulations, champions!” the announcer roars, and Soraka makes a soft, choked sound. He glances at her and frowns at the water streaming down her cheeks. Wasteful. Foolish. He was wrong. She would not last long in the desert.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

As long as he is being honest with himself…he feels surprisingly good about this victory. It had been too long since he had fought for a good cause. The last time…

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

He shakes his head violently and returns his attention to Luxanna. He cannot tell if she is supposed to be this pale or not. As subtly as he can, he tries to compare her skin to the other females. This is a remarkably futile effort. After all, Soraka’s skin is blue.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

“Champions, you may now exit the Fields of Justice!”

Blue light surrounds them, and he bares his teeth as he feels the summoning spells yank at him. Luxanna is still shaking. Still…muttering those words, letting them fall from her mouth like coals, already accepted pain.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

He cannot bear it. He has never allowed his charges to suffer needlessly. She needs aid, and he will help her. He does not understand what is causing her to act in this manner. Perhaps she is sick, lost in a fever brought on by the battle. It is of no matter. He is a seeker of knowledge, a keeper of secrets. Her pain is a puzzle and he is…flesh…flesh turned from stone by Ionia's agony, by the Starchild’s desperate gratitude.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

Such a strange world, he thinks. Such a strange people.

“Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and justice for all.”

He sets his hand firmly on her shoulder, and lets the light whisk him out of existence.

Eyowyn 07-24-2012 12:08 AM

Chapter 3: Glimmer

He blinks away the disorientation as vision returns to him. The summoning chamber is dim, its walls a soft powder blue, all intended to provide a calming atmosphere for returning champions. He needs nothing more than a breath to cleanse the battle from his thoughts, of course, but there are others that have…difficulty.

The Ionians leave in a tight group, chattering excitedly about their victory and ignoring the hate-filled glares from their enemies. Slowly, the rest disperse, Renekton spitting on the floor as he passes. He waits impatiently for Lux, occasionally glancing at the only other figure in the room; the fox woman.

She is still staring.

“What do you require?” he finally asks. She smiles and moves closer, her tails draped around her.
“Only what you want to give,” she murmurs, and he blinks in confusion. He feels…extraordinarily odd. He glances downwards to make sure his breastplate hasn’t fallen off somewhere along the way.

“I do not understand you, human,” he growls, holding his staff warily.

“Nasus,” she says, lingering over his name, “you feed on life, and it makes you stronger. You are like me.”

Yes, he feels distinctly uncomfortable now.

“What of it?” he demands.

The fox-woman pauses, her brow furrowed. She frowns at him.

He looks back at her, completely bewildered.

“Argh!” she grumbles, and leaves in a huff. He stares after her, his eyes wide. What….what was the purpose…he cannot even begin to connect her actions together in a way that would make them make sense. Had she wanted something from him? Only what he wanted to give…what, by the vulture’s mercy, did that mean? He snorts in disgust and purposefully looks away from the exit.

Finally, the little blond human appears in a shimmer of blue at his side.

“Luxanna,” he says, relieved.

“Nasus,” she greets him. She starts to walk out and he bars her way with the length of his staff.

“Are you unwell?” he asks bluntly as she looks at him quizzically.

“No,” she says firmly. “Let me out, Nasus.”

“You are not telling the truth, human,” he growls. “Why were you saying those words? You are no tekepi, repeating a message to its master.”

Her cheeks look like they are bleeding again and for a second he worries about finding a route to the healers. He doesn’t actually smell any blood, though, so he relaxes and waits for her to answer.

“I get…uncomfortable when I volunteer for matches,” she says finally. He grins at her, delighted. She must be nervous! He can figure out that she is nervous! A victory in the eternal struggle to understand the humans!

“You…performed well,” he says hesitantly. “You were very efficient with your spells. You are extremely proficient with timing and aim. Your efforts resulted in the death of many. You…uh…did not bleed in copious amounts?”

Her blinding smile returns and he congratulates himself on his compliments. He must be learning swiftly. First nervousness and now this! If only the facial expressions were easier to understand, he mourns. The bestial heads of his kind did not allow for the same range of movement as humans’.

“Thanks, Nasus,” she says brightly, patting his hand. “You were great, too.”

Great? Great! He goes to all the effort of thinking of appropriate praise for her and she settles for ‘great’!

“Well, I’m off! Have a marvelous day!” she chirps, ducks under his staff, and is gone.

He stomps out the door, still fuming. Great. Pfft.

He prefers to spend his time in the library. It is the only part of the Halls that is familiar, and not so terribly small. The chief librarian, an agreeable male called Madred, had jury-rigged several chairs together to form a comfortable seat for him, and there he sits, enjoying a late lunch.

He has actually retrieved some food, this time. While he satiates his hunger with a complex treatise on the Demacian royal family, he samples a selection of Runeterran fruits. He prefers to exist on knowledge alone in this realm. All of the food he has tried so far has been so alien as to be almost nauseating. Still, he perseveres. It is an amusing challenge, after all, to find something he likes to eat.

He growls at the strange yellow fruit in his hand. It is shaped like a miniature version of Renekton’s glaive and it is frustratingly squishy. On the outside, it has a fibrous, bitter-tasting skin (as he finds out the hard way) but inside, it is sweet and delightful. The problem was separating the two.

The fruit pops and sends yellow gloop flying as he tries to tear it open with his claws. He snarls and purple flames erupt, devouring the mess in seconds while leaving the furniture untouched. Sadly, his spirit fire is mindless enough to have consumed the untouched fruit in his lap as well.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, turning to the next page.

The Crownguards, it says. Interesting. They are guardians of the Demacian royal line, it seems, a noble house that consistently pr—


He holds the book in the light and peers closer. Luxanna Crownguard, it says. An unmatched prodigy from the College of Magic, a valued member of the Demacian military, renowned for covert operations in the heart of Noxus, a national hero before she hit twenty.

A Demacian…he hadn’t thought that there were chatty Demacians.

Although, now that he thinks about it, he supposes that the odd female with the sword counted as chatty. He just hadn’t been able to understand her. Her words were so garbled that he had been convinced that she was intoxicated, until she managed to kill all five members of the enemy team in a row.

Luxanna gets nervous, he wonders, looking at the illustration of her in her shining armor, baton at the ready. She certainly doesn’t look like it in the picture. What impresses him most about the image is that she has the wisdom to cover her entire torso with armor to protect her vital organs, unlike the Noxian hero he read about yesterday. He pats his own golden armor smugly before he returns his attention to the book.

She…intrigues him, and he sees it as a learning opportunity. If he can understand one human female, maybe he has a shot at understanding them all. He doubts it, but he will try.

He reads late into the night, and when Madred finally forces him out of the library, he takes a book with him, one that was mentioned in the treatise.

It is called the Measured Tread.

Cerubois 07-24-2012 10:20 AM


Originally Posted by Eyowyn (Hozzászólás 27256915)
((Edit2: Oh god, the RivenxLux fic's first chapter is called Dawn, too. Go me for originality. Oh, spork everything. It stays!))

My third chapter is also called 'Glimmers and Shadows'. ;)

Eyowyn 07-24-2012 10:57 AM


Originally Posted by Cerubois (Hozzászólás 27341635)
My third chapter is also called 'Glimmers and Shadows'. ;)

....I can't win :(

Cerubois 07-24-2012 12:14 PM


Originally Posted by Eyowyn (Hozzászólás 27342798)
....I can't win :(

I share my victories. :P

Kenson 07-24-2012 09:50 PM


To Clarify: I'm talking about the comments above, not the story. XD Story's great, by the way.

Eyowyn 07-25-2012 10:20 AM

Is that a bad, go fix some bit of your story "o.o"? Or a positive version of "o.o" that I'm unfamiliar with?

Edit: Woot, positive "o.o" :D

Chapter 4: Prism is coming...

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