You may need to read the following:
As promised, the title of this ff is here: Deception
You wouldn't believe how long it took to make that title. Couldn't really find anything better.
Oh boy I'm writing. Thanks to Gnomesauros for giving me advice on writing romance! (Did I spell his name right?) And thanks to Bouncy16145 for reading and helping me edit my wurk!
And here's a little note...
No smut. I have no idea how to write it and I don't really like it either. So, sorry to all the Waddlebuff fans reading this. Actually, I don't think Varus even has reproductive organs.
Shall we begin?
Chapter 1: I hate titles.
The sound of steel clattering against the solid, stone tower rang through Draven's ears as he threw his hands behind his head, leaning against the mystical structure wielding both axes. His gaze turned to the left, where Leblanc had just entered the lane without a word.
The man's eyes turned back to the dark fog lying before him, and cleared his throat, "This will be good," he turned back to the Noxian woman, flashing a wide grin. In return, the Noxian let out a sound of amusement, then spoke back. "Do you think the Ionian knows what we're doing?" referring to Varus, the opposing champion.
"The archer? Nah," Draven dismissed, too absorbed by his axe tossing to continue discussion. A minute passed before he started up again, "If he had any brains at all, he would know we're doing this specifically to piss him off," a low chuckle escaped him, "But of course, he doesn't!"
The other Noxian did not seem too amused by the joke, and glanced down to her staff, which she had been absently rubbing the tip of.
Although the mage did not say a word, the executioner continued speaking to her, "No worries, we're just going to kill him over and over. You'll see," he said menacingly.
"Filthy Noxians. It's bad enough that Draven is here, but the mage is here as well. She can go plague some other part of the Rift for all I care."
Varus felt the anger rising up in his face, the sweat building up on his hands as he gripped the bow tightly. Karma reached out, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "Stay calm. They have these Noxians down here because they know how you hate them so. It's a tactic, one to get you fighting too..." she trailed off. "Too passionately."
The corrupted archer did not return a word, but instead emitted a sound of disgust. The pair waited in silence beside their tower, the only source of light in the black, magical fog.
Suddenly, an axe twirled out of the blackness, flying at incredible speeds through the air and Varus only had enough time to weakly block it with his bow, letting the handle of the weapon hit. Simultaneously, Karma and Varus both turned to each other, then glanced back out at the darkness to check for any other of the executioner's axes.
Then, a voice shouted from a seemingly far distance, "Hey, Ionian! I'd commend you on your lucky block, but you'll have to do better than that if you want to face off against Draven!"
The sound of hysterical laughter filled the air for a few seconds, but then died out. Varus felt the same hatred rising up inside him again. He equipped his bow, and began to sprint out into the pitch black enemy territory. He dashed out about 50 or so yards, the cries of his ally, calling for him to return becoming more distant than ever. The Ionian stopped when the blackness had completely surrounded him.
Had Draven not fueled his anger and forced his hand, Varus might have been afraid of venturing into the dark of the Rift without minions. But his rage had him convinced that he should not falter or return to his tower, as if he were a coward. He was almost dazed by the disorienting fog, but called out in a desperate attempt, "Face me, Noxian! Come out!" he yelled out into the darkness, his voice seemingly bouncing off the unseen walls and trees.
For some time, the archer circled around, thinking that he probably should return to his tower. He had at least come out and attempted to provoke them; being out there was against his better judgement as he always felt much safer in the light.
Suddenly, two axes flew out again in the same fashion, seeming to be faster than ever, striking hard and quick, penetrating layers of the Ionian's thick, corrupted skin in his forearm and thigh.
Although the pain was excruciating, the Ionian's pride would not allow him to cry out, knowing that the Noxian's were probably somewhere in his vicinity. He wouldn't let them have a laugh at his expense. Instead, he slowly backed up, crouching down as if concealing himself in the blackness would prevent his enemies from knowing they had struck him so hard.
Soon, he had reached his tower to see a shocked Karma, who immediately rushed over to the man. Without the watchful eyes of the Noxian's, he allowed himself to reveal his signs of pain, clutching his arm and letting out a quiet groan. Karma began to scold him, "I did warn you. Now, go back and heal. We need to be smarter if we want to win."
A blue light rose up around the archer. His summoner was casting a spell for the champion to return back to his healing fountain. He could hear Karma speaking to him, but the voice sounded distant and he didn't bother listening.
"Not even a minute into this tournament and he's wounded," the glorious executioner chortled.
"Don't be too sure. What if you missed?" questioned his partner.
"What are you rambling about? Draven never misses," he dismissed, caressing the sharp end of his axe. He threw the two weapons high into the air, and caught them on his back effortlessly, the result of years of practise in axe catching.
"That Ionian boy must be really stupid. Besides the fact that he ran out into the darkness alone, he probably didn't even bother to try and dodge my flawless throws," the man had another laugh at Varus' expense. "But then again, who could?"
His gaze did not turn from his weapons as he spoke, which he had unsheathed yet again, "And don't worry, Leb." He had called his Noxian friend that for years, although he could tell she was not amused by it. "Even though you're what the summoners call my "support" I'll let you get a taste of the Ionian's blood when we have the chance."
Unexpectedly, the minions began to brush past the two champions. "Hey! Little ones, you don't go unless Draven tells you! I have something special planned!"
As if they had not heard anything, the minions continued to walk in a perfect line, lighting the way.
The pair stared into the darkness as it was cleared up by their miniature allies.
When the minions had met up with the other ones, the champions sprinted out further into the lane.
A path was cleared, and the Noxians could now see Varus and Karma, staring directly back at them. Their faces were blank, void of emotion. It was a wonder to the Noxians as to how Varus was not wounded.
"Looks like you didn't hit him after all," the deceiver teased. Draven did not reply to this, but felt humiliation and anger inside of him. What he did not know was that his enemy was feeling the same way.
All four champions began to attack minions, not once attempting to engage each other. Not even Draven, who was quite confident in his fighting skill.
It seemed like hours had gone by as they continued to slay minions. Neither side had ever advanced forward significantly, what they had was a stalemate. Not an axe nor arrow flied towards a champion in all of this. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, one of the other champions had joined in to break the monotony.
Without warning, a stinging pain surged through the archer's back. He whirled around to see Katarina standing right behind him, twirling around and tossing knife after knife at both Karma and him.
He attempted to shield the knives with his forearms, protecting his face. When Katarina had finally relented, he darted for his tower, hearing the shouts of the three Noxians, calling them over to finish the Ionians off.
Once he had reached his stone tower, he turned again, realizing that they had stopped; they feared that his tower may kill them. He almost smirked at their failure, and his summoner yet again cast the Recall spell.
Before he had warped back to his fountain, he noticed a puff of orange smoke billow up in clouds before him. He looked around in place, not moving for fear of cancelling his summoner's spell. Right when he had calmed down, a chain had wrapped around his torso, tugging hard.
"Agh!" the Ionian cried. He fell to the ground, attempting to look for what had attacked him.
The puff of smoke appeared right in front of him again, and Leblanc appeared suddenly.
She cast a few spells on him, creating gashes in his flesh. He tried his best to not cry out this time, but he could not help but let out groans of discomfort.
However, as suddenly as she appeared, she was gone. The chain around his chest had disappeared, but there was a bruise forming there.
His summoner had just begun to cast the Recall spell again when Leblanc had appeared again, and grabbed Varus by the back of the neck. She pulled him back, cancelling the spell.
There, the puff of smoke again. She reappeared, this time as two people. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He had never experienced anything like this in his tournaments before.
One of the Leblancs rushed over, casting spell after spell on him. The pain was too much. He cried out, trying his best to hide the sound, but he couldn't.
This time, the puff of orange smoke did not appear, but instead Leblanc keeled over and died. Had he killed her? He slowly stood up, clutching the wounds she had inflicted on his stomach.
Suddenly, the chains had latched around him again, this time on his throat. He gasped for air, choking and coughing. His eyes rolled up to see what was attacking him; the chains had come from behind.
His eyes had just caught a glimpse of the puff of orange smoke before he blacked out.
END OF CHAPTER 1
Darn. Did I do that right? I hope so.
Btw, I don't play Leblanc, and I rarely play Varus. You wouldn't believe how many videos I had to watch to see how Leblanc's skills and outplays worked.
Anyway, there will be more chapters. I think I actually have something here.
Chapter 2: Screw you titles
"Much too easy. Draven's got this game in the bag!" the man said as he stared across the field, watching minions beat each other senseless.
Leblanc frowned at her partner's arrogance, but said not a word. If the tournament had been analyzed by summoners, they would not have said Draven had been winning it for them. It was mostly the help of Katarina and herself that had helped Draven get many of his kills off of both Varus and Karma.
The executioner continued, "Yeah, that was a great plan. I told you, two Noxians in one lane? It would really mess with his mind."
This time, she smirked at the comment. It was actually her who had formed that strategy, but didn't bother telling him. He would simply dismiss it with something like, "Hey, don't argue with Draven now!"
Instead, she decided to say, "You owe me for coming down here. I prefer the center lane to yours." Draven pried his eyes away from his axes and looked towards Leblanc. He nodded his head slightly, then tossed a small bottle filled with a pink substance her way.
The woman had almost dropped the bottle in an attempt to catch it. She stared down, reading the label. "Charm."
As she read the contents, Draven explained the gift, "You know that fox champion, right? She put her magic into this bottle. For some reason, she gave it to me. Drink the stuff, and whenever you blow a kiss towards anyone, they'll be attracted to you." She nodded her head absently, too absorbed in reading the bottle's information, which was scrawled onto a square of black paper.
"Of course, I didn't need it. I'm already charming enough!" the man chortled arrogantly.
"So, use it for whatever you like, I don't care. You're lucky, Leb. Not many are so blessed as to be given a present by Draven!"
He is so arrogant, she thought. After reading the final words on the bottle of charm, she looked up, her face blank. "Thanks."
The pair began to walk down through the lane towards the minions in silence. Draven began to slay minions in a way to impress the crowd of summoners, making comments like, "Oh, did you see that one?" or "I got this."
Soon, they sensed the summoner's leaving, bored with the little action going on in that point of the match. While the executioner burned through minion after minion, he began to talk casually with his Noxian friend. He had learned to multitask, tossing axes while doing other things to impress the people around him, "Heh. That Ionian must hate us so much. Well, he hates all Noxians, no matter what. I guess I could understand that."
It was rare to catch Draven talking about something other than himself, so the Noxian deceiver decided to indulge in the conversation, "I'm not too sure. There could be at least one Noxian that he could stand."
Draven caught yet another axe with ease, and then turned to his friend, "Exactly my point. You know that bottle I gave you?"
He didn't wait for her response, "It would be quite a sight if you used the charm on him and he fell in love with you simply because of that. I think..." he said tossing his axes onto his back in his usual fashion, "That would be quite a sight."
The mage was stunned by this idea, "So, you want me to-"
"Yes. I do," the executioner cut off her words, smirking. "But don't forget, you have to dump him later on."
Draven is so cruel sometimes, she thought. But still, the idea of the man who probably hated Noxians the most in all of Valoran, could fall in love with a Noxian like herself, was too good to resist.
Draven, who had unsheathed his axes once more, continued talking, "It's like a practical joke. Y'know."
Finally, the deceiver replied, "I'll do it. It sounds quite fun. But remember, you owe me for doing this as well, now!"
He didn't really owe her much for doing it. She was about to get all the laughs herself from screwing around with the Ionian. But there was no harm in making him feel like he was in her debt.
"Yeah, yeah." the Noxian executioner dismissed. "I'll just win this game for us, and we can get my plan into action!"
The deceiver sighed. There was his arrogance again.
Varus had almost stopped trying to fight them. It was practically a lost match, almost every tower of theirs had crumbled under the blades and axes and magic of the enemies. Karma had stopped trying to calm him down, and they were now scrambling to hold their base together.
Losing wasn't fun. Dying over and over got monotonous, boring, and painful very fast. However, losing to a team full of Noxians just raised things to a whole new level. They were Noxians! People who had destroyed Ionia countless times, and killed hundreds of innocent people, and now Varus couldn't defend his base from them in this tournament. The Ionian had already taken his course of humiliation and anger throughout the match, and everything had simply become tiring and dull.
A voice tore him away from his thoughts, a mocking shout that he knew was from that Noxian executioner.
"So we meet again! I'm guessing you couldn't get enough of Draven, am I right?"
It was now, at this point in the match that he had learned to control himself. He began to attack minions as his enemy was doing, and did not respond, although it made it seem like he had given up. Stopped fighting, in a way.
His eyes shifted to his sides, realizing that it was just him and that Noxian. He could hear him talking to himself, praising himself, as if he had a crowd watching. The painful part of it was, he probably did.
Finally, Draven had quieted down enough to allow Varus to fully concentrate on his task. The two farmed the minions in silence, except for the occasional self-praising of Draven, interrupting the quiet scene.
"Mock him. Get him after you. I want to test out this charm."
Leblanc had found a way into Draven's mind, and began to communicate with him. The executioner, who had a fair amount of experience in speaking telepathically, replied, "What? You wanted to do this now? No, wait a little. Use it when we're back in the institute. Don't rush it, Leb. Draven knows how to do this."
So arrogant, she thought yet again. Instead, she tried for a different goal.
"No matter. Make him come after you anyways. We can always just kill him."
"Sounds like a plan. He's just another kill. I wonder how he even entered the League, with what his poor skill!" he teased.
Leblanc prepared herself, crouching down further in the bush behind the Ionian. She raised her staff, and then leaped out, casting a teleport spell.
The Noxian appeared right behind Varus, who had not realized she was behind him. She could see Draven's bloodthirsty expression on his face, ready to impress the crowd. Through all these years of working with him in the League, she had it recognized, the face burned into his mind. Wide grin, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes seemingly glowing in excitement.
Just then, the deceiver took too loud of a step towards him, and the archer whirled around at the very sound. But it was too late for him. An axe drove into his back, a chain whipped out, latching around his neck.
She tugged hard, forcing the man onto the ground, his hands slapping against the hard-packed dirt as Draven threw axe after axe in quick succession into his thick flesh. A final axe, driven into the curve of Varus' neck ended his life temporarily.
His body hit the ground with a thud, and Draven stared down on it, the expression on his face gone, replaced with a satisfaction of sorts.
As you can imagine, the Noxian's team had secured victory. Varus had barely rushed out of his fountain as the Nexus shattered into a million crystal shards, it's power dying out and the remains of the large blue center crystal darkening to a black-grey.
The Ionian let out a deep groan before his body was transported back to the Institute, where all the summoners congratulated the winning team.
He watched in envy as his main enemies during the match, Draven and Leblanc, walked off to their rooms with glory.
Sure, he had won many other times, felt the great feelings of victory, and he had his share of losses, but no game was quite like this. Never was there a team full of Noxians, and this one time he had faced them, he had lost.
He stormed off to his room, and only then he realized he was covered in his own grime and sweat and blood. It was apparent that he really needed to take a shower.
The Ionian navigated the halls of the Institute with ease, the map of it burned into his mind from years of occupying the place. He finally reached his door, but once he entered his room he immediately felt drowsy, an exhaustion overwhelming him.
His eyelids felt heavy while he trudged through his room, pushing open the door to his bathroom with a single hand.
The familiar voice startled him, but his muddled mind couldn't fully comprehend who it was, so he turned around.
She was the last person he wanted to see after that humiliating loss, but he had to put up with her for however long she was visiting.
"What do you want?" He meant to sound as disdained as possible in an attempt to brush her off. He really needed to get into the shower and clean up.
Leblanc had realized that she didn't have a good excuse for being here. What she was really here for was testing out that charm. She cursed herself for not thinking out her plan thoroughly. Really, she had simply walked into his room with this plan to blow a kiss at him, not even bothering to think out all the flaws.
"I-um-I-I was wondering if I could borrow..." she stammered. She didn't want to sound too suspicious. Was there anything that Varus had that no one else had?
"Could I borrow one of your arrows?" the Noxian asked, hoping that he wouldn't think anything of it.
A pained expression appeared on Varus' face. A moment of silence passed until he relented, "Sure."
Unexpectedly, Varus slit his palm open on an especially sharp corner of his door. The Ionian's calm expression, which had replaced his previous one, had surprised Leblanc. It was as if the archer had done this practise for years. Or maybe he was just so numb to pain because of his last match he had with her, where he was dealt a great deal of pain. Varus used his other hand to shape his dripping blood into a solid, slender arrow, which he tossed towards the Noxian.
A rush of adrenaline filled the Noxian as she grabbed the arrow that was tossed her way. The archer had turned back around to get into his shower, probably hoping that she would leave.
It was then that she realized she had not consumed any of the charm. But she had so many questions about how to do it that it was almost pointless. How much was she supposed to drink? How would she know that she blew the kiss right? Time was running out, the Ionian would wonder why she was still there.
She gripped the arrow tightly in her hand as she dripped a few of the bright pink drops into her mouth.
Upon swallowing, a foul taste pervaded the Noxian's mouth. Trying to not spit it up, she blew a kiss his way.
She was astonished at how ghostly the kiss looked. Small and translucent, in the shape of a heart. It vanished at the very contact of the Ionian's back. Right after blowing it, she wondered if it would be effective if it hit his back. Well, she didn't even know if she had consumed enough, or blew the kiss the right way, and even more she didn't know.
Fortunately, it was just then that the Ionian had turned around. "Can you leave now?" he asked, feeling annoyance rising up inside him. He wanted to get her out of his room before he killed her.
"A-Oh, yes." she sputtered, wondering why she was so inept at that moment.
The woman left the room, shutting Varus' door quietly, listening to the click of it's closing.
For a while, she stood right in front of the door, absorbed in her thoughts, before she shook it out and walked back to her room in silence.
END OF CHAPTER 2?
I have no idea what I'm writing. At least it's not too bad? Or is it?
Ah, I don't care.
I think I'm writing too fast.
Chapter 3: Titles Suck
The foxlike champion eyes looked up at Leblanc, who was leaning against the door of her room. She really didn't have time to deal with this, especially after the long-winded match that she had just participated in.
"Hi..." Ahri replied, her eyes drifting to the side. She tried to find a way to politely, indirectly ask what the Noxian's purpose was being there.
Fortunately for the Ionian, Leblanc stated her reason, "I'm not going to beat around the bush. Do you have any of your charm on you?" with a vacant, concentrated look on her face.
"Uh..Yes, I do." What would she be needing her charm for? She wasn't going to start questioning someone as dangerous as the deceiver, especially when her own mana reserves were low from her last battle.
"Okay. Can I have some?" Her blank expression did not falter.
The strange request shocked the nine-tailed fox. It must have been for some personal agenda of the Noxian's, and hoped that she wasn't assisting her in yet another attack on Ionia. "Ehm, fine."
Mustering up all the mana she could spare, she blew out a mana-infused kiss in the deceiver's direction. It soaked into her mind, forcing Leblanc to stumble forward towards the foxlike champion, unable to control herself. Soon, she broke free of the spell, and backed up, bewildered.
"What was that?!" Leblanc snapped.
"That was my charm! It's what you asked for..." She stopped talking for fear of the Noxian attacking her. Usually Ahri would have had more confidence in herself, but not when her mana reserves were as dry as they were now.
"No! I meant..." the deceiver trailed off in her frustration, "Just give me the bottled charm." She didn't have much patience for this. Ionians in general failed to amuse her, especially one like Ahri.
"Oh, the bottled version? Well, you could have been more specific," the nine-tailed fox retorted. With her eyes still on the Noxian, one of her tails lifted up, releasing the same small bottle, full of the charm. When Leblanc realized it was coming her way, she raised a hand to grip the bottle. Everyone always seems to have one on them all the time, she thought.
Ahri proceeded towards her door, which Leblanc had still been blocking as if she was a guard. The Ionian brushed her to the side, "Move. I need to clean up," she said, her voice full of disgust. The champion wasn't always in her best mood after a match, and the Noxian's unexpected visit just worsened it.
Leblanc stepped to the side, letting her enter. Just like the last time she had been gifted the charm, she whirled it around in her hand so the front faced her, the same word scrawled in the same handwriting right in the center of that black paper, pasted onto the glass. "Charm." She whispered the word out loud. Now with the genuine bottle from Ahri, it might work.
Why did I come here, the deceiver thought.
Leblanc stared around her room of the Institute, a dim lamp providing illumination for the place. "I could have gone straight to Varus' place..." she spoke out loud. Great. She was talking to herself now. Must be spending too much time with Draven, she thought.
"I could make myself more presentable." Thoughts formed together in her mind, "What would Varus find attractive?"
That was a tough one. She had never associated with Ionians, never had a purpose for it and she loathed them as well. So how could he tell what they liked? Maybe the best source was Varus himself. What did he wear? Basically, he wore nothing. Those black corrupted crystals were so conveniently placed as to let him not wear anything. Also, she had once read somewhere that any cloth the Ionian attempts to put on his body burns up immediately.
The charm might be enough, she thought. Although she was already clean, she thought she might just take another shower and put on some perfume.
Leblanc stared into the mirror, a perfect reflection of herself staring back at her. She looked well. Presentable. To put it bluntly, she looked like herself.
She looked like she had always looked. But maybe that wasn't too bad. Varus hated Noxians anyway, probably no matter how attractive they are. This charm will do the trick, she thought.
For a second, she wondered why she was doing this. Why was she going through all this trouble to impress some guy who she was just going to dump? Well, for one it was to be a practical joke. It would take a lot of work, but she had quite a lot of spare time in the Institute, but that could change easily. To her, it really seemed like a waste of time. She could have chosen not to do this, it was all Draven's idea. Was a few laughs really worth weeks of work, maybe even months? With the way the archer hates Noxians, they may not even accomplish anything.
But then there was another possibility.
What if she was doing this for real?
What if she wanted Varus?
No, she refused. She refused to believe that.
That is ridiculous, she thought.
Stop staring and the mirror, and go.
She slinked out of the room, locking the door tightly shut with the bottle of charm gripped tightly in her other hand.
Why was he wasting his time like this?
What was he even doing?
Varus lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't bother to crawl under the covers, instead, he lay on top of them.
The Ionian turned to the left, staring at the blank wall. He wasn't accomplishing anything by lying there. He'd been doing it all morning, and it was nearly afternoon. He wasn't even thinking of anything.
Maybe it'd be best if I made this room less bleak. Maybe that's my problem, he thought.
He was right. The room was practically empty, save for his bed, a side table with a lamp, a small wooden desk, and a shelf with nothing in it. An empty closet occupied the space beside his door. He was given this room by the Institute, and he had done nothing with it. All this furniture was really from the summoners, given to him as they would give any champion. He was free to customize his room in any way he liked, even if it meant getting rid of his furniture. But he hadn't, even after spending 3 years in the Institute.
Maybe it was the Noxians who had changed him like this.
Noxians. The very word caused anger to rise up inside of him.
But there was no point to his rage, not now. Varus sighed, and swung his legs off the edge of the bed.
He realized that he had done nothing with his life ever since the Noxians had attacked. It was probably time to start living again. Something he could have done before. But he didn't. Instead, he had been waiting around in the Institute, wandering around and doing nothing, simply waiting for tournaments held by the summoners. They had happened so often in the past years that he never had time to think about this.
So, he could start now.
A loud knocking on his door disrupted his thinking. Just as he was about to move on with his life too. He frowned, rising from his bed, feeling the stiffness in his joints for the first time this day, the result of lazing around on his bed.
He placed a hand on the doorknob, frozen from the previous night. After unlocking it, he saw the same dreaded face he had dealt with the whole day before.
"Hello Leblanc," he said, venom dripping off words. He didn't mean to sound so menacing, but it had become a habit after associating with too many loudmouthed Noxians in the League.
"May I come in?" she asked. As soon as the words had left her mouth, Leblanc had begun to worry. It seemed like too fast of an approach. Varus probably wouldn't be happy to invite any Noxian into his room.
Fortunately for her, Varus replied with the response she had wanted after a moment of hesitation, "Okay."
The Ionian widened the door, allowing her to step in. She almost frowned at the emptiness of the room. Leblanc had hers made to fit her needs. The archer seemed like he couldn't care less about the topic. The deceiver turned to face the man, who had a perplexed expression on his face, as if to ask what she wanted.
Varus felt the same loathing rising up inside him, the same loathing he felt whenever a Noxian was in his presence. He tried to rid the feeling. Maybe his problem wasn't Noxians themselves. Maybe his problem was him not allowing Noxians in his life.
So, he attempted to open up a bit.
"What brings you here, Leblanc?" he asked in a most pleasant tone.
"Oh I..." she trailed off. Yet again, she had forgotten her excuse for coming. Why couldn't she learn from her mistakes?
"I wanted to ask you about the arrow you gave me." There. That was a good way to buy time. Now, just what would she ask?
"Okay. Go ahead," He attempted to sound inviting, and felt sweat building up on his palms. He could tell this time that it wasn't from his hate of Noxians.
"I... How did you make the arrow from your hand?" Another good question. But now, what she needed was a good diversion so she could use the charm. She could feel her heart rate increasing steadily, and her gaze turned towards the floor.
Her questions seemed strange to him. What was she going to do with this information? No matter, he thought. He attempted to stop being suspicious of her. "It's my corrupted blood. I can spare a lot of it, and they make for decent arrows. They solidify when they touch oxygen." The Ionian tried to not point out how he became corrupted because of the Noxians.
Leblanc's plan had come together now. She composed herself, and then held out the bottle of charm for Varus to see.
"What do you think this is?"
Varus squinted at the bottle, and Leblanc wondered if it was from his eyesight or from confusion. Probably the latter. He placed his fingers around it, and the Noxian released the bottle. "I'll need to check this out with my lamp," said the Ionian.
Varus adopted a perplexed expression again as he flicked on the light and began to inspect the bottle in his chair. He twirled it around in his hand, reading the contents and information as Leblanc had when she had first been given it by Draven.
She stood now directly in front of him, wondering how she had failed her plan. What she meant to do was ask what he thought it was, at first, which she had done right, but then she was to drink it, and the next time she found him not looking, she would blow a kiss his way. It wasn't the best one, but she had to work with what she had. But Varus had simply taken the bottle from her to examine it himself. How could she get it back?
Thoughts raced through her mind and she suddenly lunged forward, both of her hands on either side of Varus' face and she closed her eyes, her warm lips pressing against his cool ones. A thumb absently caressed his cheek, and she pulled him in. She could tell he was standing now, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in even closer. Her arms raised up to his head, her fingers tangling with his hair and he was now squeezing her in his grasp, their lips not once pulling away from each other.
When their lips finally relented, she looked up in his eyes and to her surprise, they were full of bewilderment.
The Ionian put a finger on the base of her neck, and pushed her away.
She stumbled backwards, and stared at him, wondering what had happened.
"Get out of my room!" he barked, gesturing towards the door.
Leblanc hurriedly darted towards the door and left without a sound.
End of Chapter 3
Well, that escalated quickly!
I write kissing so badly...
Chapter 4: Titles are useless
It was quite interesting.
She had kissed him, and yet for a moment it seemed as if he had enjoyed it. His words that had came after did not say so, but maybe there was something more complex going on within the Ionian. It didn't make much sense, but for some reason, it just piqued the deceiver's interest even more.
The woman pondered this as she lay on her bed as Varus had done the previous day. She could plan her next move on Varus now, but what could she work with? Had she made him hate Noxians even more? It was such a complicated relationship, if she could call it a relationship.
Maybe she could analyze something from what happened, and work out a new approach from there.
He had seemed quite neutral and inviting before she had kissed him so unexpectedly, but why? Usually he would be trying to brush her off. She dismissed it, thinking that it wasn't something to think about all too much. The truly strange part of it was his reaction when he had kissed her.
It was probably the fact that she was Noxian. That must have been why he was so upset.
However, Noxian or not, he might have reacted the same way in kissing someone he barely knew. What did he think of it? He had stated his words, told her to leave, but the way he had accepted the kiss didn't properly connect with his reaction.
Draven could be right. Maybe she was the one of few Noxians he could stand, but he didn't want to show it. How long had it been since he began to hate Noxians? All his life? Or ever since the attack? It could be that if she was not Noxian, he would have accepted the kiss, but being a Noxian like herself ruled out any friendship or romantic relationship with her. He must have had resolved to not associate with Noxians, and he didn't want to break that resolve in front of her.
Another thought came into her mind. It could be that his powerful attitude towards Noxians negated the magic of the charm. That could be why it did not work the first time.
This was enough. Her theory seemed pretty accurate. But what could she do with the information? First, she needed to make him believe she was not Noxian, or she could make him believe she was not enough like other Noxians.
How could she succeed in doing either of them?
My magic, she thought. She scanned her memory banks, vaguely remembering when she was taught how to disguise herself as someone else. The summoners had not allowed to use that type of magic inside the League tournaments, had barely allowed her to do it when in the Institute. It was quite a while ago since she had learned how to do it, and not having a use for it, did not practise it often.
So, she could turn herself into someone else, someone he could like. Anything but a Noxian.
Then, another thought invaded her mind. Varus had kept the charm. Even if she disguised herself to not be Noxian, how could she complete her task efficiently without it? She didn't want to bother Ahri again, and besides, she might even refuse, given the way she had shown her own personal loathing of Noxians the last time Leblanc visited. And there was no way she could get Varus to return it, not after yesterday's events.
How many other people could have the charm?
Her plan was almost complete, save for the lost bottle of charm and forgetting how to cast the disguise spell.
Thinking that a walk would clear her mind, she rose to her feet, opened the door and stepped out into the halls of the Institute.
She turned to the left to begin her stroll, her eyes catching sight of her mailbox, which had a small package forcing the door of the mailbox slightly open. Leblanc leaned down, held the door up with one hand and slid the box into her other.
The small, cardboard package fit right into the palm of her hand, and she tore the tape off, searching it's contents.
A small bottle of unused charm sat in the center of the box. Leblanc raised an eyebrow, reaching her hand in to take the charm.
The bottle was warm. Someone had delivered this not too long ago. She opened the lid, taking a whiff of the sickly sweet scent. Had Varus returned the bottle?
No one else would have given her another bottle of charm. There were only three people who knew about it, besides herself. Draven, Ahri, and Varus.
Draven and Ahri could never have known about what had happened last night, it could only be Varus.
There were these things about Varus that not even she could comprehend.
His reasoning for it didn't matter, though. What did matter was that she had her bottle of charm back! That was half of her problem solved. Now, how could she refresh her memory for the procedure of the disguising magic?
His tournament was going by in a blur. Varus was too absorbed in his thoughts to focus on fighting. He was fighting a losing battle, but he didn't mind as much as he had the battle against the Noxians.
Although he didn't try, he couldn't get his mind off the events of the previous night.
So much had happened. Was he supposed to understand it? He could easily dismiss it, but there was something that disturbed him.
He had enjoyed it. He enjoyed kissing Leblanc. He couldn't find out why, it was strange, it was as if she wasn't Noxian. No Noxian could make him feel that way. They wouldn't be able to. And yet, here he was.
It felt like he had betrayed himself. Years ago, he clearly remembered resolving to not associate with any Noxian on friendly terms. And he had broke it, simply by enjoying the fact that she had kissed him. It was impossible to try and tell himself that he hated it, to hide the truth from himself. He pretended to tell her that, yelling at her to leave.
There was nothing to do but hope Leblanc hadn't noticed that he had liked it, and hope that she would not interfere with his life like that again.
His match was over very soon, with his outcome as anticipated; A loss.
Being the first to leave the end-match room, he trudged through the halls, hoping that she wouldn't be waiting at his door again. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, sorting everything out no matter how painful it was.
The archer almost didn't see the woman in front of her door, peering into the window of his door. Why did everyone visit him after a match?
Nearly groaning out loud, he stepped up beside her, and cleared his throat, "May I help you?"
This seemed to startle the woman, who almost jumped up at the man's words. She turned to face him, "Oh, hello! Do you live here?'
Varus couldn't help but notice her physical resemblance to his closest friend in Ionia. The only difference was that she wore the trademark blue, plain garments of a summoner. "Yes, I do. What is your name?"
"My name is Lira, I'm a new summoner here and I've just moved into the room across from you," the woman explained, pointing to her door.
"Ah. My name is Varus, by the way," the man replied.
When he realized that Lira was at a loss for words, he saw this as an opportunity and spoke up, "Excuse me, but I need to clean up a bit. I had quite a rough match."
She stepped out of his way as to let him in his room. He shut the door loudly, making "Lira" wince at the bang.
This wasn't how she had planned things. Actually, she wouldn't be in this predicament if she had done her planning in the previous day. But she forgot what she was supposed to say.
The magic was going to wear off in two hours. She had extended the spell longer than she had expected to have her plan executed, just in case something like this came up.
She waited patiently outside Varus' door, reaching into her pocket, her fingers finding the bottle of charm, still warm from gripping it tightly in the past hour waiting for Varus to finish the match.
Might as well have it ready, she thought, as she let a few of the pink drops spill into her mouth, the bitter taste catching on her tongue.
Soon enough, Varus opened his door, still quite wet from his shower.
The sight of Lira startled him. He had not expected her to wait the whole time. No matter, he thought. "Would you like to come in?" he invited.
"Lira" smirked, taking in her unconscious companion. He was slumped back in the same chair he had occupied the night before.
Although she didn't expect the charm to knock him unconscious, it was a good sign. The magic must have worked! Her theory was correct. His state of mind was powerful enough to negate the powers of the charm.
So, he hates Noxians that much, she thought. Must be some pretty strong anger to counter the powers of magic.
Very soon, Varus' eyes half-opened, and he weakly raised a hand, but dropped it. He rolled his head to the side, and mumbled something unintelligible. "Lira" ran over beside Varus, and put her hand overtop his.
"What did I-"
"You suddenly blacked out. Were you inflicted with any magic from your last match?" she cut him off.
"Uh, yeah, I think I got hit by Ahri a few times," he replied, not knowing of "Lira's" plot.
Ahri. The creator of the bottled charm. What a coincidence. "Yes, the other summoners have found that after matches, some champions tend to black out or become drowsy after being attacked by magic of any kind. They are trying to find out the cause." Finally, her plan was going as she had hoped.
Now, to really test out the charm, "Hey, do you want to come take a walk around the Institute with me? I need to learn how the place works."
Although Varus had not expressed any affectionate emotions towards her ever since he had been afflicted with the charm, he agreed, "Sure thing."
It wasn't working exactly how she had hoped. Varus was acting casually, not as if he loathed her, but not being overly kind to her either.
Maybe the charm was just very weak. Nothing seemed to be working, and Leblanc had gone to extremes to make this work. Over the span of the last few days, she had made no progress, and she was barely making any now.
The best approach could be to reach out to him instead of have him come to her.
She extended a hand towards him as they walked, and Varus took notice. Hesitantly, he took hold, and they held hands as they strolled through the halls.
So that works, she thought. Now, could she risk something greater?
"Lira" searched for something to test the charm out as they walked, and as they walked out into the Champion's Services room, her eye caught sight of something she could use.
The woman pointed towards a sign that read "Anivia's Sno-Cones."
"Varus, you want a sno-cone? I'm going to get one myself," she coaxed.
Varus, not knowing of her plans, accepted her offer, "Okay. My treat."
"Lira" looked up at him, grinned, and asked, "Really?"
"Of course. I am showing you around the place," he said, smiling.
She gripped the cone with one hand, taking small bites of the frozen cone. Things weren't going so bad, but she had come to a conclusion.
Given the fact that she had kissed Varus on the cheek after purchasing the cones, the charm probably worked like this: The victim wouldn't immediately show affection, but instead would not mind any affection shown to them, no matter how forward the gesture was.
She had to take note that she was moving pretty fast in the relationship. Nobody in their right mind accepted a kiss on the first day of meeting someone. So, the charm must have been working.
"Lira" took another look at her new friend, who had still not shown any real signs of affection. This was going to take some time.
They had finally reached her door, and Leblanc was quite discouraged. Nothing else had happened, other than them walking around with her trying to open up conversation, which Varus had almost immediately dismissed.
"Thank you Varus," she said, trying to hide her annoyance. The archer smiled, and then said, "You are most welcome."
Unexpectedly, the Ionian leaned in a planted a quick kiss on her lips, then pulled back and thanked her for her time.
This was quite the surprise. Leblanc had to act fast. She had not expected him to show any affection. So the charm had worked. Well, that didn't matter now, because time was running out and he was going to go back to his room. With the snap of her fingers, she dropped the disguise and returned to her true form.
Varus' froze in place, his hands still grasping the deceiver's. His jaw dropped in shock, and he attempted to speak, "Y-wh-"
The man tried to find the words inside him to scream at her for deceiving him, to at least find the hatred of Noxians within him, but he couldn't.
Instead, he stood there, at a loss for words. He had really just been on what could pass as a date with a Noxian. His muddled mind couldn't make anything of it.
Finally, Leblanc spoke up, "Noxians aren't so bad after all, are they?" brushing away a stray lock of hair away.
Varus couldn't find the words inside him to tell her that she was wrong, that he hated Noxians and it had only happened because he was deceived.
But the truth was there also, unavoidable in his mind. It was really her he had dated. Although she had disguised herself, it was her real personality he had been with. She had not changed internally, and therefore, he had dated a Noxian.
"Admit it. Not all Noxians are bad," she tried forcing it out of him, but she didn't know why. It wasn't part of the joke, but maybe it could help. Some part of her told her that it was for her personal benefit, to prove him wrong.
"You can't be Noxian."
He was beating around the bush. Simply because she was kinder, not as cruel as the Noxian's he had seen before meant she was not Noxian.
"Okay, Varus. We'll see about that."
She disappeared in a puff of orange smoke, leaving Varus alone in the halls.
END OF CHAPTER 4
Okay, I can't tell if that chapter was too short. And the ending was becoming poor quality, so I had to end it. Sorry bout that.
EDIT: NEVER MIND that was actually my longest chapter, god, 2400 words.
:[ No one wants to read?
On a related note...
Can't think of anything today.
Besides, I've got a pile of homework calling me over.
Probably won't be writing until Friday or Saturday.
NOTE: I'm sorry if my romance writing is really awful, I'm socially inept, I have the emotional capacity of a rock and I'm younger that most of the other writers here with much less experience with romance IRL, so yea.
Nice titles. And great story! I look forward to keep reading, if your school doesn't make you stop writing. And sometimes, you get some readers but they don't always comment! I know, it sucks. :P. But, being a great author takes some time. You're on your way. .
© 2013 Riot Games, Inc. All rights reserved. Riot Games, League of Legends and PvP.net are trademarks, services marks, or registered trademarks of Riot Games, Inc.