The Quiet Flames
A League of Legends fan fiction.
They had won – at least for today.
The five Demacian warriors had managed to strike the critical blow on the enemy nexus, which ended their skirmish against the despicable Noxians at Summoner's Rift.
Prince Jarvan IV, Xin Zhao, Garen, Lux, and Shyvana fought together in settling a dispute over a small territory near the Howling Marsh, northeast from Demacia. Although they emerged victorious in the battle, they sustained heavy wounds and even multiple deaths.
The Demacian warriors stood still as they waited for their summoners to teleport them back to the Institute of War. They panted in exhaustion and a couple of them leaned on their weapons to support themselves.
They closed their eyes and felt the familiar energy that swelled up inside them. They could sense their summoners' powers beckoning them to return to the Institute of War.
When they knew that the summoners no longer influenced their minds, they opened their eyes and found themselves back at the Institute of War. They breathed a sigh of relief.
However, for Shyvana the excruciating fight battle took a toll on her this time around. Roaming across the vast forest and fighting the mob of Noxians had exhausted her. She stumbled forward before she collapsed and fell on the cold floor with a loud thud.
"Shyvana!" Prince Jarvan IV exclaimed and reached to Shyvana's side. He carefully turned her around so that she was laying on her back instead of on her stomach. He gently slipped his powerful arm under Shyvana's neck and lifted her upright.
"Are you all right... Shyvana?" The prince asked nervously.
The prince could barely feel Shyvana's light breathing. He looked at the bruises and cuts on her body. Her armor was tarnished with crusted blood and cracked from repeated blows.
The others didn't fare any better. The prince himself had parts of his armor falling apart.
Xin Zhao, Garen, and Lux were concerned with Shyvana's condition, but had kept their distance. They were nervous of being near someone like Shyvana, who was born of a dragon father and a human mother. On top of that, she was a member of the elite guard, known for its brute strength and steadfast bravery.
Prince Jarvan IV shook Shyvana and urged her to wake up.
"Let her rest. She must be taken to the infirmary in order to heal." A summoner requested as she approached the Demacian warriors. This particular summoner wore white and blue robes. She had deep ocean-blue eyes and long, silvery hair that was tied near the end. In her hands, she carried a scroll that contained the holy words of her faith.
The Demacian champions knew this young woman. She was formerly a priestess from a faraway world who took refuge in Valoran. Although the champions residing in Valoran did not know much of her past, they knew she was mainly responsible in tending to all champions' wounds and restoring them back to health – be it Demacian, Noxian, or even a Voidborn.
"Trinity, so good to see you!" Lux greeted as cheerfully as she could, but her weary face betrayed her usual energetic personality.
"Pleasure to see you again, Lux. I understand all of you are exhausted from the battle. Please, come this way." Trinity asked as she turned and walked towards a long hallway.
Prince Jarvan IV gently lifted the unconscious Shyvana in his arms and followed the priestess.
The hallway consisted of simple rooms that the weary champions could lodge for a time.
Lux eagerly picked a room and dropped her weapon on the floor as she collapsed onto the bed. Garen and Xin Zhao each entered their own rooms and exhaled a sigh of relief as they rested.
Prince Jarvan IV, as exhausted as he was, was very concerned for Shyvana's well being. He laid Shyvana on the bed softly and looked at Trinity earnestly.
"I assume you want me to help her first?" Trinity asked.
The prince stared at the summoner and silently nodded.
"Very well." Trinity complied as she stood beside Shyvana's side. She carefully removed Shyvana's battered helmet. Shyvana's lustrous obsidian hair spilled forth from her helmet like lava. Trinity laid the helmet next to the counter by Shyvana's bed and proceeded to remove some of the armor off of her so as to help her feel more comfortable.
The priestess then closed her eyes and brought her hands together in prayer. As she prayed the words of healing, her hands glowed with bluish-white magic.
"...As Your divine hands healed the wounded souls of the multitudes, may You grant Your humble servant the same holy power to heal the souls of many... For Your eternal glory..."
When Trinity finished praying, she opened her eyes and parted her hands. Her hands hovered across Shyvana's chest, and particles of healing magic lightly sprinkled upon Shyvana like fresh, white snow.
"...Prince, I suggest you to lay down and rest. You've sustained heavy wounds in that battle." Trinity implored. Her eyes were focused on Shyvana, carefully assessing her condition as her wounds healed.
"I will not rest until Shyvana awakens." The prince answered resolutely.
Trinity acquiesced to the prince's will and continued on her work in silence. The summoner and prince stood quietly as they watched Shyvana's wounds heal.
After a few moments of silence, Trinity spoke up.
"Forgive me if I seem intrusive, Prince... But what is Shyvana to you?"
Prince Jarvan IV hesitated to answer. He never liked feeling so vulnerable – especially on the day he faced his League Judgement.
"...You're a summoner. You can read our minds, can't you?" Prince Jarvan retorted.
"Indeed, I certainly can – yet I sense so much confusion and guilt in your soul... Do you consider Shyvana as your true comrade... or your trump card that would guarantee your victory?"
"Speak no more of it!" Prince Jarvan IV growled.
"...Did you invite her to be a part of your elite guard knowing that she held such power to be a double-edged sword?"
Prince Jarvan IV tensed in quiet anger. What Trinity said was all too painfully true.
The prince remembered that day when he and his army fought against the drake that slayed Shyvana's father. He and Shyvana fought ferociously to bring the drake down.
He remembered Shyvana transform into a fearsome and powerful dragon and took flight in the air.
He reminisced Shyvana, the majestic beast, dive at the despicable drake with flames of fury and enraged passion.
His mind flashed back at that very moment when Shyvana pierced the drake's chest with her sharp claws and stripped the drake's pulsating heart.
He remembered that moment as Shyvana reclaimed her honor and slammed the drake's heart down to the ground and spewed forth bright red flames from her vicious jaws, burning the heart into a black crisp.
When all was over, he invited Shyvana to be a part of his elite guard... and of Demacia.
He knew at that moment Shyvana would accept given that she had no home, no people to return to, and no other purpose. She was all alone.
He knew that if he had Shyvana first, she would be a boon to the Demacian military and maintain a fearsome sight to behold.
He knew that if Shyvana fell into the wrong hands or if she ever turned against Demacia, it would spell disaster for his country.
He knew that if Shyvana was part of the elite guard then maybe, just maybe he could defeat...
He knew, he knew, he knew...
He knew it all.
His memories and emotions accused him of his cunning and deceiving heart that he had in containing Shyvana and possessing her immense power. His guilt prodded him like the lance he wielded to fight against his enemies.
Guilt, shame, and the desires to please his father and country weighed heavily in his heart. It is what drove him to fight with such passion and fury. There was no other way he felt possible in relieving himself of the demonic ravens that picked and devoured his heart day and night. One would wonder how the prince was able to keep his composure all this time.
And then there was the match they had won today...
Prince Jarvan IV relived that moment when he was caught off guard and had to fight against all five of the Noxian enemies by himself. Weak from prior encounters, the prince tried to run from them but fell from exhaustion. Just as he thought he was going to die, he heard Shyvana's mighty and blood-curdling roar as she transformed into a dragon and dove at the Noxian enemies.
Once again, he remembered the mighty Shyvana, soaring like a flaming red comet that crashed at the Noxians and knocked them several yards away. Her giant reptilian body loomed over the prince protectively as she hissed and spat vicious flames from her jaws, warding away the Noxians.
"Away from the prince, enemies of Demacia! Or else I will burn you into cinders!"
Jarvan IV blinked as his mind returned to the present. He looked at Trinity, who was finished in treating Shyvana. However, the half-dragon warrior still had not woken up.
"I've finished tending to Shyvana's wounds. She should wake up in a few hours." Trinity remarked.
"Trinity... What does Shyvana... think of me?" Jarvan IV asked anxiously.
"She doesn't tell you?" Trinity answered in surprise.
"No... Shyvana was always the quiet type. She never confided in anyone. I could never ask her such a question. It's too..."
"...I guess you could put it that way."
Trinity chuckled. She stared at Shyvana, who was now resting serenely.
"All I can say is that she holds great respect for you, Prince. She is fiercely loyal..."
"What other thoughts does she have?" The prince inquired.
"You should ask her yourself. It wouldn't be as meaningful if I revealed everything to you. After all, it's disrespectful to disclose such unspoken and private thoughts to others without permission, don't you think?"
Prince Jarvan IV silently wished he could be a summoner and read the minds and hearts of others. But alas, that was not possible.
"Fair enough..." The prince spoke begrudgingly.
"You really should rest, Prince..." Trinity urged once more.
"No, thank you."
"...As you wish. If you need anything, please let me know..." Trinity said as she left the room to help the other wounded champions.
Jarvan IV took off his helmet and laid next to Shyvana's on the counter. It felt refreshing to not have a heavy helmet on his head. He already had a lot of things weighing on his mind anyway.
He sat on a chair beside Shyvana and silently watched her sleep peacefully. Her lustrous black hair had a strange violet sheen under the light. It was dark as the night and it accentuated her pale bluish-gray skin.
The prince gently brushed away some of the stray hair strands on Shyvana's cheeks. He caressed her face. Her skin felt very warm to the touch. Jarvan IV wondered if it was a common physiological phenomenon among half-dragons.
Jarvan IV couldn't help but feel drawn to Shyvana's face. She looked so different without her helmet. Jarvan IV never recalled a time when Shyvana looked so peaceful. He always saw her with a somewhat cold and distant countenance. She always seemed tense and wary – and knew that people looked away from her for fear that she would turn against them.
Jarvan IV wondered if Shyvana simply accepted her fate and didn't attempt to seek attention from her comrades. He wondered if she simply just let it be.
At that point, the prince gasped lightly in surprise.
No longer did the prince see the face of a loyal warrior.
He didn't see the face of a ferocious and mighty dragon either.
What he saw was the face of a woman, so alone.
To Jarvan IV, it seemed so strange to him. Was it right that a woman be alone? No, she shouldn't be! If she was an ally of Demacia – especially one who was loyal and fought for the good of Demacia, she was nothing less than a sister of Demacia. Why should she be treated as an outcast?
Jarvan IV felt the spear of guilt impale his heart once more. He was furious with himself for experiencing such... a forbidden emotion.
He loved her.
The prince's mind raced with anxiety.
What would his father think? Loving a half-dragon woman who was feared among the people whom she served? Loving someone who was considered an impure scion among both humans and dragons?
And top of that, his father held such great expectations for him, given that he would be the heir to the throne once his father passed away. It would be Jarvan IV's turn to carry the responsibility of being the proud and honorable torch of Demacia.
Jarvan IV knew his father would forbid the relationship. His father would exile him or possibly even kill Shyvana as punishment.
"Prince..." A voice whispered.
Jarvan IV was startled but realized that Shyvana was whispering his name. She was still fast asleep. Her chest rose and sank as she breathed silently. Jarvan IV wondered what dreams she was having that would compel her to utter his name.
The prince shook his head in helpless resignation.
Would it be worth losing everything just for someone like Shyvana?
Or did Shyvana mean everything to him?
Prince Jarvan IV wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. Like a puppeteer, his heart had attached strings onto his mind and moved his mind at its bidding. The logic of the mind was losing the battle with the passions of the heart.
The prince slowly, hesitatingly drew closer to Shyvana. So close that his face was near hers that he marveled her skin. Although Shyvana's skin seemed smooth like a regular human in appearance, Jarvan IV could see that up close the skin had the texture of thin, tiny dragon scales.
He found it hard to believe how Shyvana was considered a disgusting half-breed. He found her beautiful.
His heart continued to race like the stampede of the mighty cavalry, pounding his mind repeatedly into submission to do what his heart commanded.
In the end, Jarvan IV surrendered and lost.
He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips onto Shyvana's. He kissed her again and again in still silence and hoped that the quiet flames of passion that he could not see but feel would spark a new beginning between him and Shyvana.
He deluded himself with many thoughts to reassure himself before he gave his mind entirely into the passions of his heart and kissed Shyvana fervently, hoping that each kiss would bring Shyvana closer to awakening.
Nobody will know...
Just this once...