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[keagan-cavanagh]

league-of-baras‌:

The kid jut his jaw when the stranger approached. He thought the soldier-to-be was going to come poke fun at him, but instead he wore a crooked smile and introduced himself. Garen peered at him from beneath shaggy brown locks and took the offered hand warily at first, then with more confidence. “That’s right. They’re right… that is. I’m Garen.” 

He scuffed his foot, a childish habit. He was supposed to be a man now, he reminded himself and stood straight while he shook the young man’s hand. Maybe he was about his age? “How come you don’t stay with your friends?” He wondered out loud, looking back at the other common born boys and girls who had been whispering about them. When he looked over his shoulder at them they all averted their gaze or turned their heads. 

Garen sighed. He supposed he couldn’t avoid the staring and gossiping. If only he was a little less famous, why did his grandfather have to go and make his family important? Such questions were fruitless, he knew, but part of him wondered what it would be like to meet people without them knowing all sorts of things about you before you even get a word in edge wise.

He appreciated the company, but he didn’t hold much hope that it would last.

@keagan-cavanagh

“Pleasure to meet you, Garen!” Keagan said brightly, with no suggestion of deference to his voice - only a warm confidence that didn’t seem to wane in the least despite his company. “And don’t worry about the pronunciation, by the way - you Capital goers tend’a put a big ‘eee’ on it. It’s really somewhere between an ‘ee’ and an ‘ay’. Keep the ‘ee’ though. If you make it ‘KAYgan’, it sounds like you’re making fun of my accent,” he said, throwing in a wink for good measure.

He smiled, “Friends?” He gestured with his thumb back at the others, “Them? Nah. They’re not even from Ballybay - er...Balville.” Although he doubted the Crownguard would recognize the official name of his village even if a number of crates of crops and other foodstuffs delivered to his home were marked with it. “Ne’er met ‘em before today. No reason for‘em to be my friends anymor’n...” He stopped - remembering what his brother had told him about talking to people in the capital and having to slow down and separate words a little more carefully with them.

Whether they really didn’t understand the quick cramming of words or were unwiling to parse it his brother hadn’t made clear, but either way it made things easier.

“Any more than,” he repeated, “you.”

He offered that smile again and a little shrug, “’Cept bein’ proper, I suppose. But the way I see it we’re both settin’ up to get our asses kicked in the barracks in the name of protecting Demacia eventually, so I’m not putting much stock in you having titles up on me, so long as you don’t mind.”

“’Sides,” he flashed a smile and threw a wink, “You look a little lonely.”

Growing up

[keagan-cavanagh]

❤ Garen (for Keagan

They were doing some repairs on the barracks. Part of the wall was crumbling in the living quarters and while it was nice to have a breeze during summer, the draft during winter chilled the trainees in their cots at night. Garen had offered to help rebuild the old parts of the walls and Keagan was roped into assisting his overeager friend. 

Garen was determined to do a good job so he and his fellows had a warm place to sleep again during the winter. It was easy enough to follow the instructions of the old head mason. Keagan was telling a joke and, captured by his story, Garen wasn’t looking where he was going. They weren’t very high up, but high enough to be dangerous. Garen lost his footing and Keagan tried to catch him. Instead, both men toppled over and fell to the ground below. 

After the initial impact, the dust settled, Garen dared to open his eyes. He saw Keagan’s eyes up close, warm and brown, flecked with darker and lighter hues and hints of yellow and green. They were beautiful, how had he not noticed before? Soon, Garen’s brain caught up and he realized their faces were pressed together, along with their lips. Garen pushed himself up, red faced and flustered as he started to shake the stone dust from his hair and clothes. “A-are you- are you alright, Keagan?” He asked and offered his friend a hand up, unable to meet his gaze.

@keagan-cavanagh 

[keagan-cavanagh]

Garen enters the bar quietly under cover of the thick brown cloak he wore. It could only do so much to hide the bulk beneath it, but still it served its purpose well enough. Eyes were not as easily drawn to a simple cloak as they were to shining Demacian armor. He asked for a room and dinner, preferring to keep out of the main common room. If he knew his old friend, he would have liked the place with its rich warm fire and jovial company. Something twisted inside him and he frowned at his meal.

Keagan was not quite so quiet about entering the tavern as his old friend and former superior had been. He stepped into the warm and dry building - sweeping back his rain-slicked hood and wearing a smile.

“Mirabelle!” He called out the name of the woman standing behind the bar, “Did you miss me?” 

She smiled brightly and gave a soft laugh, “So very much, Keagan. I could hardly stand it. What would we do without you? We’d self half as much whiskey if you didn’t come back.”

Keagan grinned and took a seat at the bar, sweeping his cloak aside so that he could free his arm for movement. He reached up, briefly untying his hair so that he could pull it up again a little more cleanly, “Oh, you give me too much credit, Mirabelle - I’ve seen the way these good people can put away their liquor.” He swept his fingers through his sandy blond hair as he spoke - letting it fall to his shoulders and shaking it out briefly before pulling it back up again and tying it once more.

“True, true.” Mirabelle said with a smile, “A room tonight or do you have to run off again?”

“Oh, yeah, I think I am going to try a return to sleeping for a change of pace.” He joked, “I’ll take a room - and a meal. Throw in an extra of one of those rolls I smell.” He gave a warm and honest smile, “Thanks, Mira.”

“Of course,” she said, returning the smile and setting down a glass of water in front of him before turning away to get his food ready.

@league-of-baras 

[keagan-cavanagh]

Did you ever have a thing for Garen?

“Oh, no - I, a man who is notably attracted to other men, just bathed, slept, served, fought, trained, and lived next to the most eligible bachelor in Demacia during my formative youth and young adulthood while never once feeling a flicker of desire.”

Keagan smiled and took a drink from his glass - the seemed to think it over a moment.

“That was…” he said, dropping his glass back down, “That was a joke - I was being sarcastic. Just to be…just to be clear.”

@league-of-baras

[keagan-cavanagh]

A Somber Task

These were Garen’s people as much as Keagan’s, but Keagan had come from a village just like this one and any time the Crownguard heir listened to his friend and fellow soldier speak to other people from the same part of Demacia as him, Garen couldn’t help noticing the rhythm of the way they spoke, the differences in tone and pronunciation that was markedly different from the capital. It was very much understandable, but even outsiders could tell the difference between Rural and Capital Demacian. It was the way that Keagan held himself too. Even in military regalia, he looked like he belonged here more than the capital-born members of their unit.

People in the villages seemed a little more at ease around the lowborn soldier when they heard him speak and saw the way he stood and knew that they weren’t talking to a noble son, so Garen liked when he could bring Keagan along when duty called him to the farming villages.

Especially when it called for something like this.

Keagan turned away from the man he had been speaking to - middle aged and with the look to him that suggested a work-hardened personality. And yet, as much as that was true, there was an undeniably forlorn cast to his gaze and to the way he carried himself. Garen looked to the shorter man as he approached. When they had first met they had both been boys and very close in height. However, Garen had taken on the famous Crownguard stature since then and while Keagan was not necessarily short in stature, Garen towered over him.

“It’s a girl, Garen.” Keagan spoke in a low and quiet tone, “A child.”

Garen felt a heavy ache in his chest at the revelation. Being here was already difficult enough without that knowledge. He knew that there were others just as dedicated to Demacia as himself who revelled in this sort of work - but he was simply not among them. And the young man dearly hoped that if nothing else this sort of news would give even the most fervent some pause.

“His?” Garen asked and gestured lightly towards the man Keagan had spoken to with a slight nod of his head - and deeply thankful that his voice left him sounding more solid than it felt like it would.

Keagan nodded - his brow furrowed and eyes troubled as he glanced back towards the man who was pushing up his sleeves for the third time in what was likely a nervous behavior. Garen couldn’t blame him. His heart sank as he tried to imagine for a moment what the girl’s father was going through. He made an attempt to push those thoughts aside as his stomach twisted.

“Well,” he said, “Let’s go and see her. Maybe this is all just...a mistake.”

Keagan nodded, but from the way he looked at the open doorway of the house, shoulders hanging and the slight pull at his lip suggesting he had it caught between his teeth in his own nervous habit, he didn’t seem to have much hope of that. Neither did Garen, but he had to try and summon some up. Maybe it was just the people of the village being superstitious, something the girl said or did that had been misunderstood, or...something. Anything.

He held out a gloved hand to invite Keagan ahead of him. The shorter man  nodded and proceeded inside the small home.

The home was nearly silent. Occasionally a soft sob would escape someone and a comforting whisper would follow. The family was there - mother, he supposed, siblings, grandmother. An older man he supposed was probably the girl’s grandfather sat silently by a barren fireplace. Friends of the family were there too - offering some comfort. There were so many of them, he thought, inside such a small house. He knew Keagan had several siblings and he wondered if his friend too had grown up in a place like this - a simple, little home filled to the brim with people.

The girl’s father walked over to a closed door, giving a light nod towards it. They approached and he said softly - though it seemed strangely loud in the quiet, “In here.” Garen didn’t move to open it - waiting for a moment until the man himself did so. He did not think he should be the one to do it - open the door and barge in. It only took a brief moment before the man grabbed the door handle and twisted, giving the door a slight push to let it swing open. And then he stood back to make way for the soldiers in capital gold and blue.

Inside the room there were a couple of beds pressed in close together. There was a wide and low dresser that looked like it had been in use by generations of children. And on the floor sat a little, flaxen-haired girl. She was in a little blue dress that Garen was sure, having seen a number of common children now, was not her usual attire, but something saved for nicer occasions. He wondered why her mother had chosen to dress her in it today, but he supposed he could not find any reason to suggest she not choose just that. She was making some structure out of little wooden blocks. One tall and in the center and a number of smaller blocks around it in a circle.

She looked up at them and the door shut quietly once they were inside.

She smiled and Garen’s stomach fell into a pit.

“Are you the people from the capital?” She asked - her voice too cheerful for her to know why they were there. “Mama said that we’d have some guests coming who wanted to see me.”

Garen tried to say something. He tried to answer her in a warm and comforting tone, but when he parted his lips to do just that, he couldn’t seem to summon forth a single sound. The silence didn’t hang long though and Keagan was quick to speak where he couldn’t. He cursed himself silently, telling himself it was foolish to be so nervous about this - to be so...uncertain.

“Yeh,” Keagan said, smiling, “That’s us.” He stepped forward and crouched down to be closer to her line of sight. Keagan gestured behind him with his thumb saying, “This is Garen Crownguard.”

Garen felt heat in his neck, creeping towards his cheeks - not sure why Keagan would mention his name in particular.

“Crownguard?” The girl was clearly excited - her eyes big and bright, “A real Crownguard?” She stood up and walked a little closer, smiling up at him. His family was plenty proud of their history, and he himself was proud of his name and the service his family had offered to Demacia - but it felt strange to know that his name alone made him look like a hero to many of the villagers without him having yet done anything, he thought, to earn the title.

But maybe that was what Keagan had been hoping for - something to put the girl at ease. To make her feel safe.

Garen smiled at her, “That’s right. And this is my friend, Keagan. We’re both soldiers all the way from the capital.”

Her smile never faltered.

“My uncle’s a soldier! He’s not in the capital though.”

Garen’s smile stayed, soft, and he nodded saying, “A soldier nonetheless. I’m sure he’s doing good work where he’s stationed.”

“And what’s your name?” He asked, finding something he could say.

“Jeanette.” She answered, “Jeanette Cosgrove.”

Garen smiled, “Well,” He took a moment to follow Keagan’s lead and crouch down closer to her level. His armor was thicker than Keagan’s, who tended to prefer leather and chain over plate. He settled for pulling over a seat from near the door. He wondered if her mother or father used it to read to sit and read to the children at night. 

“It’s very good to meet you, Jeanette.”

He tried to feel the levity that he had put into his tone, but was having a hard time as he looked down at her - blonde hair and bright smile. Maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe there was nothing to the report.

He wondered who had submitted it. Her father? One of the other villagers?

He cleared his throat. He needed to ask about it. He needed to find out whether or not it was true. Again, he found it hard to form the words. How could he ask something like that? Even children knew to fear mages. How did he ask a little girl if she was one?

Keagan came to his aid again.

“We...we came to speak to you because we heard that you can do some things that other people can’t, Jeanette.”

Her face fell and Garen’s heart broke.

She knew what they were talking about.

“Oh.” She said - softly, with the sort of honest shame a child’s voice carried when she had done something she knew was wrong.

“...Mom said I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

Garen took a deep breath - and he heard Keagan do the same. He saw the way his friend’s jaw tensed, saw the tug at his lip that suggested his teeth were worrying the inside his mouth again. He had seen Keagan break his own skin that way. 

“Well...” Keagan started, but this time he was the one who lost his words.

Garen supposed it was his turn.

“Well, she’s already told us about it. And asked us to come here and see you....Do you think that you could...tell us about it? Or...” He felt something catch in his throat, “Show us?”

He wanted her to say she couldn’t - or to suggest she could and then show some little trick and prove it was all a game. They would tell her she shouldn’t play such tricks and scare her family like that, remind her of the dangers of magic and even playing at it, and then they would be gone. Everything would be alright and it would turn out this was just an overcautious family, a superstitious village.

She looked at them, and then at the door. Her gaze held there for a while as if she were listening for someone approaching. Maybe she had shown this to others in the same way - quietly, listening for anyone who might come in and see. Siblings, perhaps.

Her eyes came back to them again.

“I won’t get in trouble?”

Garen had been struck in the chest several times - during training and fighting, mostly. He had been hit with a fist, by a full-bodied tackle, by a wooden weapon carried by a man as big as himself, but he did not think he had ever felt a blow quite like this. She was looking up at him - looking to him for reassurance, for safety. She was looking to him for protection. She was trusting him with this.

Trusting him with this secret.

He felt the bite of tears at the edges of his eyes and refused to let them any further. He fought the urge to grasp at the aching hole in his chest. It was all he could do to bring it instead to Keagan’s shoulder - as though hit were his friend who needed the reassurance.

He felt Keagan’s hand touch his. Perhaps he understood that Garen was steadying himself.

But he could not know the depth of this.

Garen did not know what he could possibly say. He couldn’t tell her she wouldn’t. It would be a lie if she truly had the curse. But he so desperately wanted to tell her that she had nothing to worry about. He wanted to settle his hands on her little shoulders and tell her that everything would be fine. No matter what - he would make sure that she wouldn’t be in any trouble. That she would be just fine.

“No.” 

He heard Keagan say it. It hurt to hear - and it hurt that he was relieved that he did not have to be the one to lie.

“No, you won’t be in any trouble. It’s just us.”

She hesitated still.

“You won’t be mad?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Daddy was mad.”

“Well, we won’t be...And I’m sure your daddy was just...worried. People get that way sometimes.”

“Mommy says people seem made when they’re scared.”

“Well, we don’t scare easily.” He said with a warm smile. “Have you ever heard of a scared Crownguard?”

Garen’s hand squeezed his friend’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he was glad to be something that seemed safe to her - or if he didn’t want Keagan to use his name like that anymore.

“No...I haven’t.” She said.

She took a breath and steadied herself - a couple of tiny steps sounding against the wood of the floor. 

She closed her eyes and placed her hands at her chest.

Garen’s heart felt like it would break through bone.

It seemed too familiar. The little girl with blonde hair, pulled in close - barely trembling with nerves.

Her little fingers spread open and he saw the littlest bit of light. It was not a flash, and not terribly bright. It was more like a haze - shimmering. She opened her eyes. They shimmered softly too. She looked down at one of the blocks in the circle around the little structure she had made. It shimmered and shifted - barely. Then, again, it moved - twitched. Then, it slid slowly across the floor - towards one of Keagan’s feet.

And it stopped.

Garen could feel the breath he had been holding, but he couldn’t quite release it yet.

She looked at them.

He felt sick.

She was scared.

He could see it in her eyes - in the careful way she watched them.

He had never envisioned himself as someone who would strike fear into the heart of a little girl. That was not what he wanted of himself. That was not what he wanted of anything.

“Well that was...certainly something I’ve never seen anyone do before.” 

Keagan broke the silence.

He reached out and picked up the little wooden block - holding it between gloved fingers. Garen glanced at it for a moment, but his eyes came back to her.

He was moving before he realized he wanted to. He had risen from the seat and had taken a few steps towards her before he knew what he would do when he reached her. When he did, however, he only reached out - gently - and placed a hand against her back.

There were tears in her eyes.

“I know it’s bad.” She said - her voice breaking. Someone had told her it was - probably recently, probably panicked. “Please don’t...be mad.” She was trying not to start sobbing. Garen could hear it in her voice and see it in the little shake of her shoulders.

“Shhh...” Garen tried to soothe her - his hand gently patting.

And then she had turned and pressed against him. She clung to him and her little shoulders shook. She trusted him still, it seemed. He was glad for that - and heartbroken. He held her gently and let her release a little sob.

“No one is mad.” He reassured her - although he knew that wasn’t true. He was able to say it though because at least...no one there was angry. How could he be angry? How could he be anything but worried for her. He knew he should be...worried for what she could do - for the things she could do and people she could hurt. But how could anyone be afraid of such a little thing?

“We’ll...help you. I promise.”

Why had he said that? Why had he promised something? Promised anything? He couldn’t help it. It had just spilled forth. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to protect people like her - to comfort them. 

Keagan had stood and gone to the door. He didn’t hear the words exchanged between his fellow soldier and the girl’s father, but he heard voices. The door closed - and he heard more. He heard Keagan’s voice - soft at first, then a little more stern. He could only guess that Keagan was asking - then insisting - for the excess visitors to leave, given the sound of the front door opening and closing a couple of times soon after.

For his part, he gave more reassurances - voice gentle and warm. And she calmed - tears drying and breath slowing.

The door opened again and Keagan returned.

Gloved hands reached down and took the little girl carefully. Garen almost wanted to refuse to let her go - to keep a hold of her there. He stood up - perhaps a little too quickly to hide the sudden jolt of anxiety he felt because Keagan offered him a gentle and reassuring smile. He held the girl against his hip and said something to her. Garen didn’t catch what it was - not sure if it was a phrase he didn’t know or if it was just said in that quick way the commoners tended to speak, cracking their words together in a way that made them hard to understand if you didn’t listen to them enough.

But she nodded and held onto his arm. He carried her to the door that remained open and Garen saw her mother come and sweep her up into her arms - holding her close, kissing her cheeks with all the untempered love she held for her. 

Good, he thought. Good. She loves her. She’s not afraid. Good.

Slowly, Keagan closed the door.

And then they were alone.

His friend turned to face him.

“What do we do?”

He heard a crack in Keagan’s voice. He almost thought to desperately try to lighten the mood by commenting on its similarity to back when Keagan’s voice had been changing and it had frequently cracked when he would sing or try to shout.

But this was very much not the time, and the thought of bringing it up soured quickly.

“I...Don’t...”

Garen hated being uncertain.

When he had first heard about a mage being reported in one of the villages...he was ashamed now to admit that he had been almost excited. It would be a chance for his unit to prove themselves - he had thought. It would be a chance to eliminate a threat to their people. He had envisioned some evil and twisted thing from stories - some cruel threat. How had he not thought of this first? He, of all people, should have thought of this first.

A little girl. A daughter. A sister.

It had come to him - the thought of this - soon after. He had worried over it and tired to keep himself from doing so - reassuring himself that most mages were threats. Most magic was a threat. An open and angry threat.

And he had come to find a little girl that trusted him.

“We can’t...” Keagan started. Garen was sure his lip or cheeks would be bleeding by the end of today. He practically saw him bite this time - saw the pull. 

“We can’t...hurt her.” 

He couldn’t say the word, but they both knew it was there. They both knew.

“If...if that’s what you suggest then I’m going to-”

“No.”

Garen interrupted him. He didn’t want Keagan to think for an instant that that was where his mind was.

“No. We can’t. And we can’t let anyone else.”

His mind went to other units, other commanders, other people who could have been called here who might have had different instincts. He wanted to think there weren’t any, but he knew better than that.

He heard Keagan release a breath - saw the flicker of a smile. He was relieved.

Garen swallowed.

“We...The Church has homes...special, particular caregivers who...might be able to...”

He heard Keagan scoff.

“The Church. Lovely. I’m certain they’ll be the kindest and...best replacement for family and home.”

“Keagan...I know that you aren’t...I know that it’s not the best we would want, but-”

“But what? She thinks people are mad now? Whatever matron or priest there they trust with this kind of information will make her-”

“Keagan-”

“More than afraid, more than-”

“Keagan-”

“At best they’ll try to make her forget it ever happened - at worst-”

“Keagan!” He tried to say it firmly enough to interrupt his friend, but not so loud to shout into the other room, “What other choice do we have?”

Keagan was quiet then.

His boots made a soft, but clear sound against the wood as he walked across the room. He sat on one of the beds - head hanging, arms resting on his knees. Garen wondered if he should go to him, rest a hand on his shoulder. He stayed where he was though - for now, at least.

“We could...” Keagan started - and stopped.

Garen took a couple of steps closer.

“We could...not report it.”

Garen stopped.

Keagan’s eyes snapped up to him.

“It’s just you and me, Garen. No one else in the unit came into the house. No one else saw. We can just...tell the other villagers it was a mistake. Tell her parents to be cautious. To...discourage her from...We could just...not.”

Garen wished it was so simple as that. He wished it dearly. But it wasn’t. More than the two of them knew. The unit knew why they were there. Friends and family knew enough details. The village probably all knew by now and wouldn’t forget easily. The people who had received the message knew. The commanders who had given out the orders knew.

“...And what if someone comes to review? To check again to be certain?”

“...We tell her not to show anyone else.”

“And when she grows up? If she does something accidentally? If she...” He hesitated, “Hurts herself? Or someone else?”

“That’s a lot of ‘if’s instead of a very certain us sending her off somewhere where people will treat her like...like she’s wrong. Like she’s dangerous.”

Keagan’s eyes found his - as if daring him to say ‘she is dangerous’. But Garen did not. He couldn’t bring himself to say that.

Even if she could be some day.

“She’d be safer there. And she could grow up to live a normal life.”

“I doubt that very much. Have you ever met someone who grew up in one of the church’s care homes?”

“More normal.”

There was quiet between them again. Garen didn’t like it - feeling like he was arguing with Keagan. They both wanted the same thing - for her to be safe. To be able to keep their promises.

“What else can we do, Keagan? If we don’t help her now, someone else could come to a new report, or to double check our findings - and they could be far less kind.”

Keagan’s gaze fell away again.

His fingers were intertwined.

He was refusing to look at him now.

“She can’t stay here, Keagan. It’s not safe for anyone involved.”

“We could...”

He waited, trying to see if Keagan would find anything this time.

“I mean...”

He waited.

“In other places it’s...different. We both know that. They might not - the family. But we do. Piltover. Bilgewater. Shurima...Nox...Noxus.”

“...Keagan.”

“We could...help them find their way somewhere. Piltover is friendly with Demacia - friendly enough. I’m sure they’d-”

“Keagan. We can’t. It would never be approved to send an entire Demacian family passed the borders.”

“When I said ‘we’ I didn’t mean Demacia.”

Garen was silent.

“Keagan.”

“I know.”

“That could be seen as trea-”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Keagan was silent again.

Garen felt that pain in his chest again. For the little girl. For his friend who he knew was desperately searching for anything - who could get carried away. He knew how intensely he wanted to help - to find some solution, because Garen wanted it too.

“You can’t talk like that. I don’t want...anyone to hear you talk like that.”

Keagan’s eyes found him again. The gaze was softer now.

Garen took those last couple of steps and reached out, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“We don’t have to say everything that happened. There are people who can help children who...may be showing some signs. They don’t need to know how much she can do. She can just...be someone who has the potential to be afflicted. No one would...accept her otherwise.”

“Afflicted.” Keagan echoed - a terrible sense of spite to his tone.

Garen wondered if he should ask more about this - about Keagan’s particular distaste. 

He didn’t.

“Sorry.”

Keagan followed shortly.

Garen squeezed his shoulder again.

“I am certain her mother at least can go with her. Maybe not...stay with her - at least for a while. Everything will be quiet. They will see her, teach her, care for her - and eventually they will say she is educated and safe from the curse and she can go home.”

He didn’t know if he trusted himself on that. There was a difference between a child who may potentially show some eventual affinity for the arcane and one who could already manipulate it. But what else could he do? He could not ignore it - not when people already knew something was happening. But he could not do anything...more extreme. He wondered guiltily if he was just trying to pass off the duty to someone else. What would happen if someone who thought they were just watching over a child to be sure she did not become afflicted and that she was safe saw her do the things they had just seen?

No.

This was the best he could do. The best within his power, within the law, within...It was the best that he could do for her.

He would check in on her, he told himself. He would keep his promise. She would be alright.

He felt a hand brush his and was almost startled. Keagan’s hand had grasped his that had been resting by his side. Garen was uncertain for a moment - but then, Keagan moved to stand, using his grip for balance and Garen stiffened his hold and stance in return to help his friend up from the small bed.

“Lead the way,” Keagan said, holding out a hand towards the door that would lead them back to the waiting family.

“Commander Crownguard.”

Keagan had said it to him several times - that title - since he had been promoted even further above him. He teased about every step through the ranks that Garen made - both of them knowing that someday he may be so far above him that orders would pass through at least a level or two before they reached Keagan. Garen would try to see him moved further along with him - moved as his work and wit merited. But they both knew what a name meant.

Keagan had teased him with the title several times, but this was not one of those times.

Garen was the commander in this situation. And he had made their decision.

And that rested heavy on him as he took his first steps towards the old wooden door.

@league-of-baras [[Tagged for reference to their Garen]]

[keagan-cavanagh]

A little drabble on Keagan's first time in bed with someone?

He shifted out of his leathers - quick and clumsy unlacing serving their purposes just then. He helped his fellow soldier in the same way, fingers dropping down to the front of the other young man’s pants and tugging at leather ties. His greaves had already been abandoned somewhere in the dark room - entirely forgotten now. All that mattered right at that moment was the heat between them, the sound of their breaths -and all they could manage to remember was to stay quiet.

It was not as though all of the higher officers didn’t know what happened in the dark barracks - especially with the stress of training, the relief after battle. But there was a difference between knowing and catching two young soldiers in the act.

He caught his soon-to-be lover’s lips in a kiss as he tugged the last tie loose and started to shove the other youth’s pants away from his hips - groaning softly into the kiss as hands gripped his hips.

[keagan-cavanagh]

Do you drink? Alone? Socially? Do you or would you do anything reckless while inebriated? Or are you a quiet drunk?

“Drink? Me? Please.” He smirked, “Of course I do. What else does an ex-Demacian soldier do other than drink? And I do basically nothing quietly.” He raised his brows lightly, “Nothing.”

[keagan-cavanagh]

league-of-baras‌:

The city of Demacia shown brilliant alabaster in the sun. The people went about their business buying and selling goods, chatting merrily and in general enjoying the protection of their famous walls. Soldiers went about their patrols and fresh bread wafted from the market places, luring in hungry morning customers. Smiling merchants and happy patrons went about their business, dogs barking and birds chirping merrily in the trees.

A lone young man made his way to the barracks, looking for the captain he would be training under, ignorant of the happy city around him. Garen wore an expression as grim and solemn faced as a mortician. The enrollment officer tilted his head as the serious young man signed the required paper work and seemed to not hear the older man’s little quips. He watched as the young Crownguard lad picked up his bag of belongings and made his way out of the room, as silent and determined as he’d come. Odd kid, the man thought before tossing out the thoroughly chewed tooth pick and fetching another from a case in his desk.

Garen could only think of one thing- becoming strong to protect his fine city and the wonderful people within it. He could not shake the hurt of his uncle’s death, still so fresh for him and the rest of his family. Even though leaving to train would ostracize him from his beloved sister and parents, he knew it was important if he wished to protect the family remaining to him. The thought of something like that happening to his mother, father and maybe especially Luxanna made his stomach turn- he could not think what would happen if a mage killed his little sister.

Overcome with the desire to protect, Garen entered the hall where all the new recruits gathered, his senses temporarily overwhelmed as voices echoed off the high stone walls and sunlight filtered in through the long, tall windows facing the entrance. It seemed like everyone was excited, talking in small groups already- young men of all sorts among them that day. Garen picked a corner of the room and kept to himself for the most part. His ears burned as he over heard some snide comments about his lineage giving him an advantage over the rest of them and looked straight ahead at nothing in particular.

@keagan-cavanagh

Everyone knew that they were going to be in a unit with a Crownguard. That wasn’t the sort of thing that was kept quiet. The Crownguard family was only one step down from Lightshield - at least in the minds of the common people. It was a name that was driven into them in songs and stories of Demacian heroism - and had a crest that was emblazoned through many of their villages. 

Keagan was from one such village - where many of their crops went not just to the capital, but in crates and bags emblazoned with the Crownguard sigil. They were raised on stories of Crownguard bravery almost more than those about the royal family. It was also a village proud to send many of its youth to serve in the  military. 

Keagan was the second of his siblings to leave for the capital to train. For his part, he had done it largely more because he wanted to see the city than because he was eager to serve the glory of Demacia. He wanted to see the city, see the places he might be sent - wanted to experience something outside of his village.

And he had been placed in a unit with a Crownguard. The Crownguard heir, if the rumors were true. He supposed he should be honored - ecstatic perhaps, to be so close to such a patron family. He wasn’t exactly upset about it either. Curious mostly. What was a Crownguard really like in person? Then again, he might never really get the chance to find out.

Some of them were from the capital already, and it was those who identified Garen Crownguard when he entered the room, muttering amongst themselves. Here was the Crownguard heir - enlisting here and practically guaranteed to be an officer before any of them even had a commander who knew their name.

Keagan placed his hands on his thighs and stood suddenly - leaving the conversation without a further word. The other young men he had been speaking to watched as the villager left them - and walked right to where the Crownguard heir had placed himself.

He walked over to the corner - all smiles and apparent confidence - sandy blond hair pulled back into a bun and dressed in newly acquired leathers. With no hesitation - no seeming nervousness about approaching a noble - he sat himself down on a crate near the Crownguard heir, leaned back against the wall behind them.

“Whispers around the room are you’re Garen Crownguard. I should have known - the stern look and square jaw and all. Just like all the stories mention every time a Crownguard shows up.” He held out a hand, “Keagan.”

Growing up

[keagan-cavanagh]

A smile spread over Keagan’s lips - far less reserved than his former commander - seeming rather delighted to see the man, and rather amused at the response he got. It was polite, short, and certainly not unfriendly. In truth, he might have liked a warmer tone, a friendly clap on the shoulder - but what he wanted and what he knew he would get were two very different things. That wouldn’t have been Garen - certainly not considering everything that had happened.

He stepped forward, the soldier-guard behind him who had walked him into the place and kept an eye on him cleared his throat. Keagan turned to look at him, offering a scoff and a light and questioning smile, “Honestly? Come on - he used to be my commander, it’s not like I’m going to attack him. And if I did, he could pick me up and slam me into the ground hard enough to rattle my skull - look at him. He’ll be just fine without your protection, love.”

He turned his attention back to Garen, bright and roguish smile back on his lips.

“Well, you could start with a smile and then have some lunch with me-” he gave a shrug, “just a suggestion.”

Keagan stood, watching the soldiers train in the field. He could remember doing just this - running, fighting, training under Garen's orders and alongside his comrades. He could only remember them fondly, despite everything that had happened since. As the soldiers were dismissed, the sell sword stood straight and approached their commander, calling out, "Still charming the recruits, Garen?" (keagan-cavanagh)

The sun was still relatively high, maybe only passed noon. The morning drills had gone well and Garen was confident in their skills as soldiers. He stood as casually as a person of his position allowed and watched the hundred or so file out of the arena and into the dining hall for lunch. The familiar voice cut into his thoughts and to follow suit, the roguish man made his way over, clearly having watched some of the exercises before addressing Garen. “Keagan,” He nodded once, a surprised frown creasing his brows. Deep blue eyes peered on with curiosity and some sort of worry or graveness. “it’s been quite some time. What can I do for you?” Garen’s tone did not betray any feelings, polite and friendly enough despite speaking to a former comrade turned mercenary.

@keagan-cavanagh

[keagan-cavanagh]

fire-dancer-aurora started following keagan-cavanagh

“Well hello there. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

[keagan-cavanagh]

prodigal-ezreal started following keagan-cavanagh

“Aren’t you that explorer from Piltover? Your look screams Piltover. Not that that’s a bad thing. Need an armed escort somewhere, by any chance?”

[keagan-cavanagh]

gloryandgoring started following keagan-cavanagh

"Oh, if it isn’t Mr. axes, flash, and pure Noxian brashness himself! It’s a pleasure.”

[keagan-cavanagh]

"So, rumors fly. I heard you're a bit more of a liberal Demacian." The Purifier chuckled, holding out his hand. "Glad to know I'm not the only one, here." ( Lucian - @champion--select))

A light smile touched Keagan’s lips and he reached out to take the other man’s hand when it was offered.

“Well, that is one way of putting it. I rather like that - it sounds a fair bit more pleasant than some of the other options. Very nice to meet someone of a like mind.”

@champion--select

[keagan-cavanagh]

dysentery-ezreal started following keagan-cavanagh

“Hey there, looking for some protection? You look like you’re a bit out of your element around here.”

[keagan-cavanagh]

godshadowed started following keagan-cavanagh

Hazel eyes glanced over the Ionian man and a small smile appeared on the sell sword’s lips.

“I can’t tell what best grabs the attention - the long dark hair, the alabaster skin, or the unique choice of weapon. You do make a statement, don’t you? Not that there is anything the least bit wrong with that. You do it very well.”

[keagan-cavanagh]

                            тнey тoo wιll call мe м a ѕ т e r

promo© | art©

[keagan-cavanagh]

targonian started following keagan-cavanagh

“Oh shit, if it isn’t Taric. Funny to come across you - I would expect you to be out hero’ing somewhere.”