#On Political Dealings in Demacia

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

i was wondering if you have any knight vi/princess caitlyn (or vice versa) or any sort of medieval au for recommendation?

Hi!

We are VERY sorry for an inordinately huge delay in answering this, but in our defence, we've been dealing with a huge backlog, both of fic notif posts (A03 sends double/triple feeds every time they do a maintenance/backup) as well as these requests. Also, between us – our reading interests dwindled and changed, buuutttt – we DO have a rec for you – and hopefully (because we always try to dig up and promote less known and/or underappreciated authors?) not for something you've already discovered, and enjoyed – yourself?

Soooo, without a further ado, the fic is:

for crown & country by hellboy

It’s set in an exquisitely crafted high fantasy universe where the lines between duty and desire blur, amidst a backdrop of royal intrigue and magic. As the description itself says, it starts as a "catch the princess’s cat to win her hand in marriage, oh she is the cat” trope but the narrative excels in its world-building, painting a vivid picture of a realm where magic and political power collide – Piltover, with its snowy mountaintops, grassy plains, and glittering coastlines, serves as a lush and dynamic setting, while the opposing lands of Noxus and Demacia add depth and tension to the geopolitical landscape. Add the Pegasus-riding warriors, spell-weaving magicians and dragons, and you get a very intricate and immersive fantasy world, of course centered around Princess Caitlyn of Piltover, whose rebellious spirit and noble stature set the stage for a compelling narrative of forbidden love, personal growth, yearning, pining and… well – everything that you might be looking for in such a tale, really?

Now, I believe the author disclaimer’d her as a bit of OOC (a snooty princess?) in the beginning, but I’d rather say she’s portrayed with a nuanced blend of regal poise and youthful impetuosity, and her journey from a sheltered royal to a more self-aware and empathetic leader is both believable and engaging. The assignment of a private guard (shh. spoiler – it's Vi ;) to her – adds a layer of complexity and tension, and as Vi’s steadfast loyalty and hidden depths are gradually revealed it creates rich dynamics and adds that feel of a… well, almost of a fairytale quality? So yeah, it would totally read like one... well, were it not for the very high (explicit, as Cait is a 'naughty pussy' really 🤭) rating. Which, if you don't mind it, it's just as immersive because its very gradual build-up is very true to the characters, as portrayed here (they start almost in their teens, and then it stretches well into their adulthood and maturity), and it's never just gratuitous smut (meaning, it holds intense emotional resonance, tenderness and love) despite still being very very 🔥🥵.

Now, those of you who appreciated our recs before may know that we prefer canon compliant stuff, and specifically – good characterization, true to their original nature. And this one manages just that, it captures their essence – Caitlyn’s intelligence and stubbornness juxtaposed with Vi’s rough exterior and hidden vulnerability, they mirror their original depictions, while adding new layers of depth. So they feel credible, maintaining their core traits while adapting to this new setting. Equally, the romance is marked by a (very) gradual (very) slow burn that captures the essence of yearning – their interactions are charged with an undercurrent of unspoken feelings and growing intimacy, the mutual pining is palpable, the transition from enemies to friends to lovers is handled with care, making their eventual union both satisfying and heartfelt.

In the end, even though we prefer canon-compliant stuff and don't really read AUs very often (hence delay in answering this, for which again - we apologise profusely) I must reiterate that this one stands out as a sophisticated and engaging tale that blends rich world-building with intricate character dynamics, because the author's ability to weave a narrative that honors the spirit of all of the original characters while creating something uniquely its own – is beyond commendable.

And of course, I can only hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did. ❤️🌈

[sarahshoots1st]

In defense of my angel lady

Because I have religious trauma and love strong female characters, so angels are my nectar and ambrosia

A lot of people - including Riot - like to vilify Kayle, portraying her as an example of taking justice too far, someone who executes the law with mercy or consideration for they greyness of morality. While I think that is a valid story to tell with a Justice-themed character, I think they're forgetting one important fact:

90% of the characters in the LoL universe are turds.

We've got fascist homophobes, expansionist imperialists, late-stage capitalists, drug-lords who are doing their best to imitate the aforementioned capitalists, god-emperors with enough hubris to doom a hundred Greek heroes, religious extremists enacting a "holy" war, a tentacle-monster who wants to beat the shit out everyone, a tentacle-monster who wants to assimilate everyone, a tentacle-monster that wants to disintegrate everyone, demons that revel in negative emotions, an incel who wants to control everyone via negative emotions, a lich-revenant who wants to send everyone to the shadow realm, a dozen different prime examples of toxic masculinity, a man who literally wants to watch the world burn, and a nihilistic sentient sword that wants to annihilate literally everything so it can finally know peace.

Given how many beings there are running around who very much so need to be smitten with a flaming sword in order to keep the innocent inhabitants of Runeterra safe, I would much rather see Kayle be portrayed as a cosmic defender of the planet rather than a merciless executioner. I sincerely hope Riot recognizes the appeal that some people see in a Captain Marvel-style character who can be called in to deal with threats that are too large for the main cast to deal with. The new card art in LoR where she's fighting Aatrox alongside Ryze gives me hope that they're at least considering this direction - which I personally think is much more interesting than "she's just hanging around silently judging everyone." The lore they gave her after the rework was very much along the lines of the Demacia-treatment of "we're going to make this stereotypically good-aligned-looking character/faction objectively evil so that are characters/factions will be 'nuanced'", which while interesting, was implemented all the subtlety of a Malphite Ult. That level of moral complexity requires nuance to properly execute, and one-page articles released whenever a new champion is added to the game isn't going to cut it.

The problem I feel with her current lore is that they seem to be implying that she views everyday inhabitants of Runeterra on the same degree of evil as the demon-bird-man who uses the Sith lightning and the Eye of Sauron to expand his empire. There is a lore justification for this - her father was slain by people who let their devotion to both her and her sister carry them too far. This opens up potentially-interesting story opportunities for what happens when justice is not blind and impartial - but again, that type of story requires nuance and detail. It requires being able to constantly see inside a character's mental and emotional state, to watch as their perspectives change over time in response to the pain and tragedy they experience. And with the way Riot is currently handling their lore, we don't get that kind of narrative. It's like trying to have a political debate in a TikTok comments section - you get none of the nuance and all of the extreme, straw-man positions.

So until Riot puts the time and effort into writing a book or some other form of media that could properly display a descent from "noble protector" to "bane of humanity" Avacyn-style, I hope they continue to bring her in specifically to deal with the champions who are creating problems, and don't sick her on the general population - which is what the lore and voice-lines surrounding her imply is completely possible. That kind of character is just a jerk, and not in an interesting way. Let her fight the people who truly deserve Justice.

Some of us just want to see the majestic winged-lady with the magical swords slay some evil, dammit.

[mangaka-neko-chan]

PLEAse

AAAAA I didn't think this through! :'D I could at least name all the OCs that I could talk more about right now.

For Darktide / Warhammer 40k: Ove Harken A Veteran from Cadia who deals with survivors guilt after having witnessed his home fall as he was ordered to retreat. Currently the squad leader of squad CR1-PT1D5 on the Mourningstar. Ends up in a relationship with Ashur, a squad mate. Moggy Karkkia A Zealot from Crucis who survived two cults engaging in a war in the lower hive she lived in that wiped out her family or ragtag youngsters. Relatively fresh in zealotry. Part of the squad CR1-PT1D5. Ends up in a secret relationship with Harald.

Harald Von Dyssalis A Psyker from Branx Magna, bastard son of one of the planets Ecclesiarchs. He hid away in various locations in the hive, facing loss after loss, notably the death of his mother. In the end got caught over a food complaint and ended up in the squad CR1-PT1D5. Ends up in a secret relationship with Moggy. Tilly A Zealot from Pavane, growing up in a scouting, hunting and farming community until a horrible run in with corrupted wild life resulted in the loss of one of the children she took care of along with her eye. This incident left her hearing voices that her community deemed that of the Emperor. She was sent on a long pilgrimage to become the Emperor's chosen one. Got arrested because she left her post to decimate and entire hab block of citicens she falsy accused to be heretics. Now in the Squad CR1-PT1D5. Sees Moggy as her sister. Benn Farron An Ogryn from Mornax. His talent for brawling got used by gangs who recruited him to protect their leaders and collect money. Later the military got hold of him and used his talents for war. Benn was never bothered by any of this since he loves fighting but because he spoke ill of a superior, he got arrested. Now in the squad CR1-PT1D5. Will never admit it but sees his squad as a family.

For Warhammer 40k in general: Corsair Prince Neh'edi Vat born Craftworlder created to do politics who felt too restricted by her home's rules and lifestyle and thus became a Corsair Prince. She's gathering people for her crew, the Dehlannshad fleet, to realize her ideal of a fully free life by her will. Very extravagant and boisterous character. (There's also a Baldur's Gate 3 version of her.)

For League of Legends/Runeterra: Fura And artist born in Demacia, devoid of any magic. Due to an accident with her abilities in her home town, she had to leave the country and ended up in Ionia where she discoveres the countries magic and wanders around as a nomadic artist.

[withperfecttempo]

// This post details my thoughts and headcanons on Sona’s lore update and her color story. Rather than separating them all into different posts, I think it’s sufficient enough to combine them into one rather than try to create separate posts and tack on my older headcanons from the previous lore.

***Please do not reblog or steal***

Relationship with etwahl and method of “communication”:

There is a combination of ways: through touch, seemingly intuitive; it’s hard to place a finger but it feels as though there is another presence working its thoughts in tandem with hers. 

Coping and adjusting to petricite effects:

Upon her arrival to Demacia, she definitely felt the effects quite immediately. She grew fatigued and her family had thought that she might be tired from her travels and that she would recuperate after spending a certain amount of time with them without overbearing travels. Over time with consistent exposure, she has learned to adjust herself and adapt to the effects to be able to mask them sufficiently. Sona’s awareness could also extend to her being able to take notice of details to be able to adapt to her situations. Given that she’s surrounded by petricite daily, it’s a consistent enough basis for her to be able to develop a tolerance for it as well as figuring out how to allot her energies to be able to carry herself smoothly. Bigger gatherings such as galas tend to be the most exhaustive for her, especially when she has been asked to perform at the event. As she grows older and stronger, she’s been much better to be able to mask its draining effects on her.

Returning to Ionia, she must have felt the effects from petricite much like how one would experience jet lag when traveling. There is a point when her equilibrium in terms of arcane energy which causes her to feel sick or exhausted. As such, she needs time to be able to recover and get her bearings.

Sona and her abilities adapted and grew stronger.. It’s possible that the spirit in the etwahl adjusted also given its longevity and persistence to be with Sona. Her abilities most likely have grown as she expanded and honed her music expertise as well. Much like bottled inspiration, it lingers for a time before overflowing or bursting.

Political dealings in Demacia:

Sona does not have much of a role in Demacia’s politics despite now taking on the Buvelle name upon her adoption.

Given Demacia’s strong repulsion for anything arcane and that Ionia is a land that’s flowing with it, there is little surprise that there would be a number of stereotypes that manifested towards Ionians within Demacia. I’m almost sure that Sona’s dealt with multiple instances of racism. Creating stereotypes working off of racism is an easier way to create scapegoats to avoid persecution by the mage seekers. With this being said, I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to see a possibility of witch-hunts among citizens every now and then.

Learning languages:

It’s difficult for Sona, in general, to learn a language in general. It’s even harder for Sona to learn a language that doesn’t follow similar syntax and grammar as, say, a language she has grown up with in Ionia. It’s hard for her to draw connections and be able to make comparisons to grasp the rules completely. 

She can only communicate so much through the rough sign-language that the Buvelles had developed specifically for her. She still tries to learn and employ other means of getting her message across other than music for practical means such as carrying paper and graphite in the event she comes across someone who doesn’t understand any form of sign. Since her form of sign is specialized for primarily her use, it’s more of a reason for her to be flexible in the event that her close friends or family aren’t able to help her at the moment she needs. 

I’m keeping the notion that Sona can use telepathy with those akin to magic. I believe that her wanting to be able to communicate is one of the bigger catalysts to make this happen. It also wouldn’t make much sense for her to keep all her voice lines to herself. If the etwahl is possessed by some spirit, I could imagine that Sona is also able to communicate through telepathic means with spiritual beings.

Manifestation of Sona’s ultimate:

Sona’s ultimate spell, “Crescendo”, is something that consists of accumulated magic and strong emotions. Emotions can boil over when kept repressed for too long similarly to overfilling a glass or when substances are subjected to tense factors in a closed environment. The contents will spill over or break out of its confines.

 She didn’t know it was something she, herself, is capable of ever doing. 

Most of her magic is more support oriented, aiming to empower and help an ally recover. As far as her more offensive spell, “Hymn of Valor”, I see it as something that acts to leave openings such as disarming a foe.

Violence in Sona’s magic and morals:

Sona did not want to kill the mage seekers. Her ultimate is made of built up emotions and energies that ended up becoming a last resort as a result of being cornered. 

Her being violent and actually wanting to kill goes completely against what she stands for as one who instills hope and comfort. Her strong opposition to Sylas’ approach is quite telling. All in all, she’s against hurting people, which includes murder, even if she inadvertently left the mage seekers in a ghastly state.

She was in panic mode so she probably didn’t think too much beyond the fact she just wanted to protect her friends and loved ones so she just wants to make sure the mage seekers are unable to go after them. Sona has seen too many innocent people being falsely accused and ripped of their livelihood so she wants to put a stop to it in any way she could. It also seems like they have suspected Sona for a time to approach her in an organized way. 

If there is a time when she has absolutely no choice but to kill, I firmly and forever believe that the first and last person she kills is Jhin.

Despite much that she has gone through, she still manages to be a kind and comforting presence. Sona must have come to realize that despite being placed in the most unfortunate situations, she still is able to take her life into her own hands and alleviate any pain anyone else has experienced by simply being a warm presence while providing good and relatable music.

[pixelgamer07]

Hitch-Hiking with the Merchants Guild

@a-dragon-and-an-eagle Brenden stretched his back and weary limbs, wiping the sweat off his forehead before setting his glaive against the tall oak tree he would be resting against for the next few minutes. The sun was still high in the sky, a clear beautifully blue day with sparse clouds coverage. The caravan had stopped to allow the horses time to eat and drink from a stream that ran along side their current route. The number of wagons was small this time around: two privately owned carts that had paid to join the Merchant train; a single, yet heavily weighted wagon from Demacia’s capital on diplomatic business that Brenden hardly cared to learn more about, and finally three of his father’s Trade Guild wagons. Six wagons in total, quite a pleasant change in pace from the usual dozen or so numbered trains the young merchant had managed before. They where actually making great time to their destination: the grand city of Piltover.

The guild would spend a few days at the city to conduct their business, as well as to allow the two private carts time to hawk their wares. The diplomatic wagon would be staying behind, again for reasons Brenden cared little about. Once their time was up, the remaining wagons would make the journey back to Demacia. So far, their trip had been uneventful; no bandit ambushes, no encounter with wild beasts, no accidental breakdowns or injuries. Any other Merchant would see this as good fortune smiling upon them, but for Brenden it only made him much more tense.

Before he could properly try and relax however, Brenden made his rounds among the six wagons, their occupants, and the mix of Guild mercenaries and city guards that accompanies the diplomatic cart. Brenden first listened to the long, winding story weaved by the old woman driving one of the private carts; despite a few parts of her tale not quite matching up to currently factual information about the surrounding lands. All guilds-men and woman where accounted for, not that he was concerned for their safety. His fathers Trade Guild selected only the best men and women to guard their caravan trains; the requirements and training process nearly mirroring that of Demacia’s own city guard.

In fact, a few of the mercenaries that where assigned to this train had been city guard washouts or retirees that wanted to stretch their legs walking on grass and dirt rather than paved stone and tavern floors. Brenden only gave the capitol city guards the briefest of glances, leaving most of the checking to their assigned captain. His opinion of the Demacian guard was mixed, due mainly to a few choice instances that occurred between himself, his fathers Guild, and the city’s current political views regarding the magical innate. It took a great deal of pressure from the capitol city to get Brenden to allow the cloaked and masked pair of mage seekers to accompany the diplomatic cart. Secretly he hoped one or both encountered a tragic accident on this trip. Finally content with his check up, Brenden made his way to the rations wagon and got himself a few slices of bread and a small clay jar of sweet preserve spread. Then it was back to the tree, where he finally allowed his sore feet a moment to rest.

The young demacian had just finished spreading a thin layer of preserves onto the first slice with his dagger when the crunching of leaves drew his attention. “Ah! Nearly forgot about you. So, word around wagon wheel is your supposed to be some kind of famous explorer, like that kid Ezreal.” He bit into the slice, gesturing to a unoccupied log. “Not much exploring to be done on this trip unfortunately, that is unless Noxus decided to do something screwy to trade route.”  

(Yikes this took longer to make than I thought! I forgot that if I was gonna make a Merchant muse, I’d need have on hand the travel distance between the major cities/kingdoms on Runeterra. I think I have the correct info, but if I’m wrong about something IM me please. Regardless, considering this starter posted!)

[sheriff-caitlyn]

She has spent a few days catching up on things. Her gifts should have arrived by now, belated Heartseekers’ Day gifts around the world. To Bilgewater, Ionia, Noxus, Bandle City, Demacia, Shurima, and to all the places inbetween. Couriers for the city, clockwork birds for locations a little further out. To her friends, and comrages, and acquaintances, and even to those who meant more. Pragma, Philia, Storge, Agape. She does what she can, with whiskey and sugared treats and thoughtful gifts and handwritten cards.

But now she is staring at her telephone, and bracing herself for a difficult phonecall. She has to make it soon, before Vi comes back from break. It has to be done now.

“This will not go well,” she reminds herself. Speaking aloud to an empty office. “This will go very poorly.” She nods, confirmed in her belief, then picks up the receiver and dials. The rotary wheel hisses and clicks with each turn. It takes a while for the signal to be made, and she listens to a dead line become live, to the hum and crackle, as the connection is made through wires that connect Piltover to Demacia.

They call it magic, and yet petricite doesn’t keep it out. That must make electricity and clockwork entirely demonic, then. It’s the only logical explanation.

“Hall of High Justice. State your name and your purpose.”

Caitlyn sits up taller in her chair, bracing herself. “Sheriff Caitlyn Huxley, of Piltover, wishing to speak to the person in charge. It involves a case --”

“Hold.” There is a grudging, “Please,” added as an afterthought.

She presses her mouth in a thin line. Her fingers drum against the desk.

It is an unconscionably-rude amount of time later before the call is continued. “Justicar Weatherby. To what do we owe this conversation, Sheriff Huxley?”

“As I explained to the secretary,” she says, brisk and politely cheery, “I am calling about a case which concerns Demacia.”

“Oh? What is it this time?”

She notes with amusement the confrontational tone. It sounds familiar. “I have recently received a card from the criminal known as C. As you may recall, the last time this thief set foot on Demacian soil, a rather priceless heirloom was stolen from the --”

“And as you may recall, the last time you were here you failed to prevent the theft or to apprehend or even identify the thief in question.”

She has a book on her desk, something retrieved with foresight from the bookshelf ahead of time. She takes the moment to open it, to scan the index page, and then to flip over to the appropriate entry. Her copy of the Demacian Noble Registry was a few years out of date, and she had not bothered to chase up a more updated copy since Demacia had chosen to end the alliance with Piltover, but the name alone should suffice.

“Yes,” she says, as she does so, “I am aware. And that is why I am contacting you first.”

And there it was. Weatherby. She checks the extended family tree, and - what an entirely expected find - the man is related to Farrer. First cousins. Small wonder there is no co-operation here, given how Piltover’s Finest had departed Demacia. Nothing helps a grudge fester quite like time.

She continues, “Considering the thief has had such a long time to prepare himself, I have reason to --”

“Huxley.”

Caitlyn rolls her eyes and mouths ‘I don’t care’.

“I don’t care,” Justicar Weatherby says, in time with the sheriff’s own lips. “You have proven yourself to be inefficient, and even incapable, of dealing with this thief in the past.”

Maybe she should have waited for Vi. This was tremendously entertaining. “Good sir, there is no need --”

“And now you expect me to believe that this C character has returned out of the blue? Now, of all times? A terrific coincidence.”

So there have been problems in Demacia, have there? What a fascinating thing to learn. “Justicar Weatherby, I must insist --”

It seems a habit of his to interrupt her. “Either this is a ploy to earn your way out of disgrace, or to deflect your personal failings onto others as you have done before. Either way, Piltovian, it will not be tolerated."

“I am contacting you because you are about to have your vaults emptied,” she says, stiffly. “I am here to offer my services in preventing this from occurring --”

“Your services are not required.”

“Marvellous,” she says, her tone shifting to chilly. “I shall make sure the king knows you will be taking full responsibility for this theft. You know how to contact me if you should wish for more details of the upcoming robbery.”

A sudden spike of panic over the bluster. “Now, hold on a moment --”

“Good day to you.” She taps the top of the rotary, and the signal is cut. 

And for a moment, she sits in silence.

“It did not go well,” she says, eventually. “It went very poorly.” She taps her fingers on her desk, considers the family tree that linked Weatherby and Farrer, then closed the book.

Her personal hexphone is in the desk drawer. She pulls it out, and dials a number. It takes a moment for it to be connected. She introduces herself. She waits, with a little more patience, for the phone to be handed over. Eventually, she hears a different voice answer.

“Sheriff.” Tired, but warm. “It has been some time since we spoke.”

“Indeed it has, sire.” She exhales quietly. “My condolences to you, on the passing of your father, and I wish you the best of fortunes in your new role.”

“Thank you.” The man on the other end of the line heaves a sigh. “My time is short, I am afraid. But it must be urgent, and you must have been frustrated by the proper channels, or you would not have reached out to me directly.”

“Indeed. Apologies that there is little time for pleasantries. But he is back, sire. The criminal C has left me a card. He intends to target Demacia.”

His voice goes steely. “When? Where?”

She fills him in as best she is able. Short answers, no words wasted, no time theorising. His questions in return are brusque, blunt, but the demands are not unreasonable. At least, not until the end.

“When will you arrive?”

“I won’t be, sire.”

“... Ms Huxley?”

“I imagine I’ll be held up at the border.”

“I can make arrangements for that not to be a problem.”

She smiles on her end of the call. “I appreciate that, sire, I do, but I honestly imagine I will be held up at the border for an unconscionable amount of time.”

He is silent for a moment. “You are taking a significant risk with a Demacian heirloom.”

“Yes, sire.” Her smile fades. “I know.” She takes a slow deep breath. “I understand that this may be too great an ask. But I must not be allowed to cross into Demacia.”

“You have a plan.” 

“I do, sire. I do.”

[lightshielded]

@prodigal-ezreal​ said: What would Jarvan do, if in the middle of helping someone from a potentially deadly wound, he finds out they are a mage?

i think what is first most important to remember is, that while we know his position towards mages has significantly hardened ( from originally spear heading pro-mage reform to wanting them all out of his sight ), he isn’t killing them, nor would he. if he wanted to, killing the mages is a far easier and more “efficient” method of removing all mages from demacia, rather than dealing with the requirements of sending them to the border plus the risk of them joining the rebels. but such would be a horrific and heartless method which jarvan isn’t capable. he is known for doing anything he can to avoid deaths.

so knowing that jarvan doesn’t have the heart to murder an innocent mage for the pain other mages have inflicted on himself and the murder of his father by them, and him ceasing aid to an injured mage would result in their death, he would never revoke his aid. he would likely cease being as polite or comforting and revert to a more clinical and cold persona, but he wouldn’t not help them. cause not helping and standing by would be killing them in his eyes, and he just wouldn’t kill an innocent person, mage or not.

[steel-and-fire]

@ofwiltingpeonies

The black-clad mercenary had already spent more time than he ever should have in Demacia. It had been well over a month, and while the research was important and had produced good results, he had taken time off his work for it, and money was running low. Now, his savings were already enough to make a lord sweat, but he wasn’t touching those. Savings are savings for a reason. So he had finally left the land of forests an obnoxious humans behind, making his way to the place where gold was more abudant than water.

Piltover. Now, make no mistake, as little as Blis liked Demacia, Piltover was a small improvement. It was a necessary pain, for Piltovans were insufferable in their own way. That said, none could deny their fortunes, and the he certainly didn’t either. The only catch here, was that the place was small, and not nearly as threatened by outside influence. There were few bounties to be had, and most of them were not investigation-based, not smash their heads in-based. And while sufficiently intelligent, working with the police was not Blis’ favorite past time activity.

Instead, most good contracts were found through...contacts. You know someone, he informs you of something. In that very manner, the mercenary had found himself bodyguard on some rich politican around here. He expected some leacherous short bald dude, but his client was instead a very well built, nicely dressed man. Handsome even, with good manners. And a loooot of money. Usually the mercenary looked for more information before he decided to take a job, but politics was something he prefered to keep himself away from, and bodyguard work was about saving and not killing. He had been a little more lenient on this. After all, what politician isn’t full of shit? He hadn’t heard any immediate bad rumors, so whatever. People could solve their problems when his shift was over.

But he hadn’t been hired to just watch his house or some shit. Apparently there was a very important deal that would be sealed this day, and enemies of the two parties would prevent it from happening. Thus he, and two others, were hired due to their reputations being exceptionally good. One was short, but seemed skilled enough, his moves showed few openings, and his eyes were sharp. The other was large, even larger than Blis, which was a feat in itself, and he looked battle worn and experienced.

Both amateurs, to his eyes, but with lack of real work, that was the best Piltover could produce. Oh well, he didn’t care the least about them. Now, if one saw too much theater, they would expect this deal to take part in some abandoned factory, but that was just dumb. They had offices, and the one belonging to the other politician was well guarded in a high floor of a giant building, where all bodyguards were placed in front of the single door. Three from his client’s side, four from the other. None were allowed inside, some protocol and manners and whatnot. He didn’t care. He looked at the others, intense stares on all their faces, ready to jump into a fight at any given moment. He yawned. Bunch of amateurs. He couldn’t wait for this to be all over so he could go spent the entire night in a good bar, with alcohol and lady favors aplenty.

[visionofnoxus]

☮ - for Swain to kill someone trying to verbally hurt Lillithe ❀ - to grab Lillithe by the jaw and force her to meet Swain’s gaze and be possessive~ (suggested setting: High command War Room meeting or High Class Social Event ) || ~♱💒🥀💒♱~ asked as @crucifix-and-the-rosary

// And here we go. I tried my hand at it. Hopefully you find it a nice read. I need to interract more with your muse to get a proper feel for her and Swain. Please do comment. Crucifix-and-the-rosary

It had been years since the last time Noxian High Command had truly assembled. It was rare nowadays, as the empire had withdrawn within itself with the ascension of the new Grand General some ten years ago. After Darkwill’s death, the ever expanding offensives in all directions had seized or at the very least been scaled down severely. Noxus had turned from raiding and conquest to instead solidifying it’s existing areas and building infrastructure that had fallen to ruin or had not even existed in the first place. The Trifarix had taken the highest executive power in the empire and it now mandated the progress in form, pace as well as who exactly was overseeing that particular project. 

As such, this group of generals, admirals, warlords and most prominent people of political, commercial and social background rarely gathered en masse anymore. There were no projects so large and complicated, so multifaceted that the High Command would had been needed to be called into session. Which made it all the more intriguing that Grand General had now called for the assembly. Rumors were floating around the gathering’s purpose. Some spoke of a new attempt at the invasion of Ionia, that the Grand General desired to correct the mistakes of the past and bring the island nation finally to heel. Others said that Noxus desired to expand their holdings in Shurima, to destroy the fledgling empire of sand before it could reassert itself. But what of Demacia? And wasn’t this meeting obviously about the situation in Freljold? The most daring guesses were that the Grand General intended to slaughter the High Command and declare himself the Tyrant of Noxus. Rumors were aplenty and any theory one could come up with, someone else had already guessed while downing a tankard of ale.

On the day of the meeting, all those influential people who had the necessary pull arrived to the Immortal Bastion. Some arrived alone, others with hordes of retainers. They all climbed the countless staircases high into the gargantuan fortress’ depths, each group eventually reaching the enormous double doors leading into the High Command’s chamber. The doors were made of black iron, the craftsmanship alien to even the eyes of most talented smiths. The ominous slabs of metal seemed like they’d just been willed into the form of doors, with no help of hammer or fire. Flanking that door on both sides stood Trifarian Legionnaires, draped in cloaks of crimson and onyx colored cloth. Their helms concealed their faces, their weapons glimmered with arcane. Through these doors, passage was only for High Command, the retainers having to remain outside. As was always the case, some did not accept it at first. Personal safety, the need of an adviser, absolutely necessary have a scribe with them… Excuses were plenty. The guards were threatened, attempted to bribe, their identity was questioned. But none who were not of High Command entered. The few who truly did not understand the message were cut down without a second thought, their blood spilling on the dark marble floor.

The inside of the chamber was a large circular room with a grey marble floor. Four tall pillars, eerily similar to the doors in that they seemed to just be singular piece of black iron, reached far into the ceiling that could not be seen, the darkness lurking above the attendees. An enormous table made of smoothed granite circled the room’s edges in the shape of a horseshoe and a map depicting the whole world had been carved into the stone at the center of the chamber. High back chairs carved of onyx were placed around the table for the members to sit down on. There were not enough seats for all, not even third of the entirety of the members, but precious few dared to take a seat. It was a statement to sit down in that table. An assertion that you held the strength to keep it and deserved all the attention that the place around this table brought with it from some of the most dangerous individuals in all of Noxus.

Grand General sat at the center of the arch, his position naturally allowing him to survey the entirety of the room and everyone in it. Unsurprisingly Darius sat just few paces to his right, yet the left remained empty. No one moved to take the free seat though, for while there was no official seating order, everyone knew this chair was favored by the Matron of the Black Rose. And she was an individual nobody wanted on their bad side. Standing up, Swain drew the attention of every single soul in the room, the silvery haired man speaking with low voice, yet each word carried effortlessly around the room. He commanded respect with confidence, directing the crowd’s attention with the ease of a practiced orator as he explained Noxus’ current state and their future plans.

Lillithe stood silently at the back, listening to grand general’s voice and dutifully following with her eyes each time he pointed at the map somewhere. The dark clad woman fought to resist nervousness, her fingers switching between toying with her rosary or brushing against the embroidery of the front of her dress. Every now and then, when the Grand General halted his speech to let someone else bring forth their case, she felt the tiniest spark of fear, her eyes scanning crowd and hoping nobody would ask of her opinion. The fact of the matter was that her position as the High Priestess mandated her participation, but she wanted nothing to do with what was being discussed. Wars, troop numbers, natural or magical catastrophes. All she could hear was the death and misery for men, women and children of Noxus, as well as the rest of the world. The idea of actively contributing to that ruin’s creation was appalling to the woman. But should they give the order, she’d follow suit and beg for forgiveness before, during and after. 

“And what of the Kindred’s hags? Couldn’t their matriarch just suck the enemy dry?” She blinked twice, her mind catching up on what had just been said. Turning to face the rude man, Lillithe saw a rough looking admiral, seated on the fringe of the table. There were marks of acidic burns marring his face and he might have been partially blinded judging from the milky white left eye. “Yes you, can’t you just drain ground itself if there is enough life in it?” The man motioned at the map, pointing the location. “And that place is just full of those freaks, the very soil and air feeding them. Why bother with mortars and such if we can just have her strut in there and turn the place into her own little garden of death? Reckon it’d go well with that garb”. While crudely worded and offensive, this proposal earned positive murmurs, Lilith feeling her legs start to tremble. It felt like she was standing on thin ice, her heels causing tiny fractures each passing second by simply being present. These people desired for her to fall into that icy death. No. They wanted her to become that icy death for others.

“I do not recall that location being on potential target list?” Swain’s silken voice cut through the crowd’s debate. Debate that had very quickly been moving towards unpleasant conclusion in the nun’s opinion. The admiral growled back at him boldly: “Yeah it isn’t. Nor was it when we went there the first time. The freaks kept supplying their troops through it anyhow and I had to go and try to deal with it while you were building your fancy trap and Duqual hunted some fishermen on the coast” the admiral said with bitterness and accusation in his voice. “And so you took some of lord Emystan’s zaunite weaponry and decided to try and bomb the village” Swain concluded, his voice dangerously soft, yet lacking any true venom for now. “Marines should fight on water” came the gruff voice of Darius. He’d not been present but knew enough of the situation. And the outcome of the operation could easily be read from admiral’s burn face. “You want revenge. And you wouldn’t even do it yourself” He concluded, the challenge evident in his voice.

But the admiral wasn’t about to let his chance go to waste and the earlier reactions of the crowd must had emboldened him. “This ain’t about revenge Darius! Tis’ bout the fact that this wench” The sailor stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Lillithe who frowned, listening with dread on what might come next. “Has can suck that place drier than a sand dune. We could massacre our enemies with barely any losses. But because she’s part of some damn cult worshiping a bow wielding pillowcase, we don’ do shit”. Everyone could see the Hand of Noxus draw breath, ready to reply in just as crude language, but a motion of hand from Swain cut his action. “I see… Lady Lillithe, would you please come closer?” He asked, the woman blinking few times before nodding. “Of course, general Swain”. For once she felt horrible about her choice of shoes, each click of the heels echoing in the otherwise silent chamber as the tall woman approached her liege, the man standing up from his seat to meet her.

Stopping in front of the man, Lillithe nervously clasped her hands together in front of her, staring straight at the general’s eyes, noting how bronze shade of his irises gave way for unnatural crimson. “I hope you pardon me for laying a hand on you, my lady” He apologized, bringing a hand up to cup the side of her face, the warm, rough fingers meeting with her smooth and cool skin. In almost intimate manner, the grand general moved his fingers to hold her chin, staring intently into her eyes. And then she felt him reach into her mind, soft but determined grip just like his hand’s, tapping into her mind. “Could admiral’s proposal theoretically be carried out?” Swain asked. “Could you drain the life out of the air and soil, as it is constantly being all connected through magic?” His voice was devoid of emotion, not giving away his opinion on the matter. With this prod, she considered the proposal and her mind suddenly took over, conjuring images of death. Nature, animals, the very earth itself dying as she took from it the life, the all connecting magic of the place dooming it to decay as the magic allowed her reach far beyond her normal capacity. Lillithe’s shoulders shook, her lip trembled as she witnessed the dreamlike image flashing in her eyes, her own personal nightmare. And then it was gone, the warm hand of the Grand General moving to cup her cheek again, his free hand wiping away her tears that she’d not even felt forming up. “I see. Thank you. And once more, apologies”. 

Swallowing down the clump in her throat, the nun shook her head. “There is nothing to forgive, Grand General. All is for Noxus”. Removing his hand, the man offered tiniest of smiles to her. “An admirable answer, my lady”. With that, he turned around, returning to his seat. Turning his attention to the awaiting admiral, Swain shook his head. “The plan is not feasible. There are too many risks and variables” He stated, a wave of relief washing over the Matriarch. “Nonsense Swain! There’s always risks in war. No pain, no gain! And what risk exactly is there? This witch” The man made an angry motion towards Lillithe. “Is fooling you and..”. “I have made my mind, admiral. And you’ve thrown enough filth around for now” Swain interrupted, his voice velvet smooth but eyes as cold as Freljold’s winds. “What a load of bull! What are you afraid of? That me and my men can’t keep our hands of the pious sister here? Hah!” The Admiral shouted, anger evident in his face at the prospect of not getting his way. “Don’t worry. I promise me and my men don’t touch the witch, we’ll walk this corset clad hag into the valley and let her drain those freaks drier than her whole congregation after mass!”. 

Those were the last words the admiral ever said, as a an arcing crimson bolt of lightning struck him the following second, frying the man alive in an instant. The smoking corpse fell against the table, collapsing sideways onto the floor. The high backed chair made of onyx-like material showed no signs of damage though, the seat as if it had been vacant all along. “Enough” Swain ordered to the now deceased, lowering his left hand back on the table, pulling on a long leather glove to cover the crimson appendage. “The target is not a priority. We can not be sure the ability would work as suggested and sending the Matriarch of the Holy Order of Kindred to an active warzone that we do not control is asking for riots across the empire”. The Grand General let his eyes scan the High Command’s members, daring someone else to challenge him. As no such fool presented themselves, he turned back to look at the map. “Now then…”.

[unholyascendant]

I’m here thinking like...what factions would Arthuros be involved in or have a history with? 

I know for a fact that he would despise Demacia just from his original lore alone. He would see promise in Sylas, assisting him in overthrowing Demacia. But nothing would stop Arthuros from obliterating the place (with Sylas in it) regardless...just for the sake of reliving the day that he did the same to Gourdenfall.

The Shadow Isles is an obvious one but he would see himself above all the ghouls and wretches that reside there, thinking himself better than them. He’d probably go there for a safe refuge but not for much else. Arthuros is a lich that was not transformed by the Mist, he became a lich traditionally via phylactery, so I am kinda curious if the Mist would still affect him in some way.

With Noxus, he’d probably have some sort of history with LeBlanc and/or the Black Rose in general. If not, he might have had dealings with Swain, providing a little extra magical firepower to the Noxian army. Arthuros has no strong political allegiances. If he assists someone, he does so for the fun of it or for strictly personal gain. He could be helping LeBlanc one day and Swain the next. Who knows.

He’d have a very special interest in Targon. Celestial beings, gods, aspects? He will find out what’s going on atop that mountain. This could be his path to godhood.

Arthuros is old. Not Ryze old but he’s been around for a few centuries at the very least. He’s made himself known to a lot of Runeterran factions at least once.

[foxydivaxx]

More info about Eren’s connection with the League of Legends cast

This ties in with the story that I am writing

- As previously mentioned, Eren and the AOT cast predates the LOL cast by several centuries

- Demacia and Noxus were born out of Eldia and Marley and ironically those two nations hated each other like their predecessors

- There is a special statue of Eren in a temple in Demacia where they worship him like a god the same way the Eldians worshipped Ymir for years till the truth about her came out

- Prior to the birth of Demacia and Noxus, there was lived an evil Warlord known as Sahn-Uzal know to all as Mordekaiser. Though Mordekaiser was believed to be long dead, those that know of him feared the day that he would return and unleash hell upon the Earth which was what happened years later

- As if that wasn’t enough, a cabal within the Ionian political class released the villainous Jhin who went on a killing spree across Ionia

- Said actions forced several Ionian champions led by Shen and Zed to team up and defeat him

- Around that time, there was a mysterious shadowy figure that was slaughtering various evil corrupt beings across the world. Demacians believed that it was the spirit of Eren Jaeger that had returned to punish the evildoers. How true that is is anyone’s guess as there were rumours of Eren having magical powers of some degree. The boy in question is an actual demigod that has been reincarnated in various timelines so yes they are right.People referred to that spirit as the Phantom

- Eren himself is given the following epithets:

Spirit of Freedom

Champion of Justice

Humanity’s Greatest Hope (Same official title the Survey Corps gave him ironically)

The Uncrowned King

The Phantom King

The Glorious Hunter (Ironically his name can be translated to mean this. This is the official epithet people most times when talking about him)

- Several years after his death, Eren is so feared by many that the Noxians shit in their pants at the mere mention of his name and the possibility of his return that they have searched for and burned numerous tombs in search of his body. Till this day there is no sign of his body or possible tomb in Demacia meaning that the mysterious Phantom that has been aiding everyone could possibly have been him.

- Karma believes that it was Eren because he warned her about the corruption within Ionia and was the one to deal the final blow to Mordekaiser during the final battle

- The rest of the AOT cast were reincarnated as well and as history would have it, they were part of either the Noxian or Demacian army

- Another possible hint at him possibly being Eren is that according to Akali, she saw Ahri kissing a mysterious guy with long brown hair like Eren’s and he seemed to have strange markings on his face

- Another one is that there is a secret throne room in a deserted castle in Demacia and on rhat throne is a black crown with red rubies on it. Not much is known about the AOT cast post AOT timeline but considering the presence of all of them in the LOL timeline, it is possible that Eren himself was alive. You will find out more in the ongoing fanfic series.

- Also this mysterious Phantom disapproved of the Demacian highups maltreatment of Luc and mages generally and publically condemned them for it and demanded justice for her and others like her which would remind anyone of Eren himself

- Leblanc seems to know who this Phantom is as she feels wary at the sight of him plus the fact that he almost always outsmarts her and the Black Rose

- Not helping is that there was an organization that existed around the same time as the Black Rose that almost always countered their evey move called The Phantom Knights that many believe was created and secretly led by the Phantom for centuries

- The Phantom is the one guy Mordekaiser truly fears and for good reason

- The Yugioh cast are related to the Shurima gang because Ancient Egypt

[ladybuvelle]

// TFW you write Catherine Lightshield as a low-key boozer just so she can get through dealing with Lestara while the king is yucking it up with every drink what have I done I’m sorry Demacia

[ofironloyalty]

Shauna fully understands her house has become somewhat of a dark spot in the bright nation of Demacia, but her status as the matriarch of House Vayne remains. Thus, she bows politely to the woman before her, just as she was taught to as a girl. She wondered if anyone even cared anymore. All things considered, a mage rebellion was a much bigger deal than a noble orphan chasing monsters and keeping bats as pets. "Lady Crownguard. I apologize for not having been here when the chaos erupted."

rumors and stories travel swiftly with little to no effort when they involve noble grounds. house vayne is no exception to this unwritten rule, but it is also the duty of a high marshal to possess knowledge over the well-being of demacia’s upper class.

it is not some sort of coldness inside her heart that has her stance neutral towards tragedies and happy news alike, but the narrow focus she has, always directed at the great nation and how to ensure its safety.

❝ the dead are the ones who deserve an apology, not me. ❞

she only offers a curt nod in return, the sentiment of disappointment evident upon her frowning features. to her eyes, no one is excused and especially, herself for choosing to be at the side of a family member instead of the king himself when the tragic moment took place.

 ❝ bear this in mind, that nothing should be above demacia, not even our personal problems. i understand the burden of being the head of a household as i am in such shoes as well. it is much more tough to be the leading figure in a place where most women tend to be only mere followers or seen as such. still, it is our duty to protect it. ❞

 @corpsetalker

[virtuous-dignity]

what are the day-to-day activities for sona? who does she usually interact with on a basis in demacia, if anyone? does her adoptive mother accept magic / know that the ethwahl contains more magical mysteries than one would think? has sona ever had to use her ethwahl for any other purpose besides performing? does she like demacia and does she yearn to go back to ionia?

Answers are largely subject to change, I’m making considerations and fleshing this out as we talk about it. And that I struggle slightly to explain what I am thinking.

Sona’s routines are more weekly than they are daily. Unlike others in her social position, Sona is not content with status quo. The Buvelle family was self-sufficient before she came along - sufficient enough that their matriarch could go out and adopt some random hick girl from Ionia that no one had ever heard of and pay an exorbitant sum for a potentially magical artifact.

So, with the addition of Sona, who is one of the most famous musicians in Demacian history and even internationally recognized… The Buvelle family has an influx of money as do Demacian coffers (taxation!). However, Sona is not content to let herself be used as a plaything, so from the time she arrives to now, she has spent a lot of time solidifying her own, private position. Weaning ehrself off the Buvelle family, establishing a status quo for herself, and ignoring considerations of ‘honor’ and ‘prestige’ and so on. These things do not fill stomachs. These things have done nothing for her her whole life.

Therefore, unlike others who may want to secure their status and prestige through trading favors, political intrigue, and so on, Sona floats by most of it and instead secures privilege through means of wealth and asset management. In Demacia, the word of a noble family means a lot, but the word of Sona Buvelle can mean very little. And words and honor and allegiance to a king can maintain and secure a position, CROWNGUARDS, but Sona is not vying for favors.

This is the big difference between Sona’s day to day and the day-to-day of others.

She is entirely self-sufficient without any nobility. In her current state, she self-funds her concerts (not w/ the help of the Buvelle family) and manages her own personal affairs. She doesn’t trade favors, her reputation is something she never leverages, she is just known to be a good, kind sort. And because she has this policy of not conducting any of her business through political favors and trades, because she is so insistent on maintaining her pristine condition, she conducts her day-to-day without needing to worry about someone extorting her back. There’s no way of knowing how much money Sona has unless you check all her books, but the Buvelles are a merchant family - Lestara has taught her well.

That is a lot of precursor to talking about day-to-day, but for Sona it’s week-to-week routines.

Besides cleaning out her small home and doing groceries and chores and offering tidbits of advice that she hears about, she ingratiates herself with the people daily. She spends a decent portion of each week engaged in social welfare and collection of assets to promote low-income housing and other projects. Sona is a big believer in fuck you money, though she would never say that.

The people that see her most often are the merchants who sell apples in the lane. The nice old man that runs the bakery she likes to stop at. Those sorts of people. Most of her projects are funded and run anonymously, though she is known to certain members of the local hospitals. She will play her instrument from a place that can be clearly heard or borrow a harp, and she will especially play to comfort those who are sick or dying. Especially those who have no one. One part of Demacia she values is the feeling of community, and she knows exactly what it’s like to think you’re alone. That there’s no one in the world who cares about you. That you’re not going to live much longer, that you’re not going to make it, that you’re going to die alone and no one will care about you. So, she’s usually taking a backdoor into one of the hospitals and doing these things on the weekly.

Otherwise, her day to day involves practice. Hours upon hours of it. If she’s not got a performance or some business to attend to, she spends ‘work hours’ practicing both her magic and her instrument. She knows the value of hard work very, very well. Part of her week also involves finding very quiet places in Demacia - she knows good places to hide where there isn’t much or any noise. That’s important to her.

Goodness, that was a lot of words for one question.

Here are the other questions. Lestara is aware that both Sona and the etwahl are magical, though Sona has been coy with her adoptive mother about just how powerful an instrument it is and just how important it is to Sona. Though they may not have started on the best of terms, by the time of Lestara’s untimely death, Sona and her adoptive mother had grown to trust each other a good deal.  She isn’t aware of Sona’s most private feelings about the etwahl, nor that it necessarily has a small mind of its own, but Lestara was always aware that Ionia was a place of magic. And equally, Lestara put plenty of effort in explaining how the etwahl might appear magical, but that’s because it comes from a place where magic is common and suffused in plants and trees - so there will be no harassing her daughter who carries around a 50 pound instrument on her shoulders, thank you very much!

To this day, Sona has never had to use violence. Though one might consider her especially lucky, she is also especially careful. With her great hearing, she can detect rising heartbeats as they approach among other dangers. Though she has had a run-in or two with mageseekers, her infallible geniality and warm, mysterious disposition have gotten her out of most situations. Further, because of the amount of power she’s solidified, she’s well aware of the threat she represents to others. If someone comes after her, they mentally might expect retribution - that’s what other nobles would do. Sona has the power to do so, though she may not necessarily act on it. It’s a very scary thing to threaten someone who represents even 5% of the city’s wealth, and Sona definitely does. Just by herself.

Sona’s feelings on Demacia have shifted steadily over the years. She likes Lestara and she is fond of many of the people in the city, but the anti-mage attitude she is not pleased with. It reminds her very much of her time as a youth, and as things have progressed from bad to worse, her opinion has grown more and more sour. Nevertheless, she makes efforts to help guide and direct those who will lend her their ear. 

As far as yearning to back to Ionia, she does not need to yearn. She leaves when she pleases and returns when she pleases. This is one of the privileges that she has demanded very early on and she is quite clear on this point. She will not forsake one home for another, and it is shameful that anyone suggest that she do so. Will you abandon your neighbor and turn a blind eye to his suffering? How very not Demacian of you.

And because this favor was not gained by politics or by trading favors, but by more legal means, it is hard to revoke it from her. She has, at this stage in her life, authority. And it’s authority she gains by maintaining a certain… pristine attitude. She is kind regardless of who you are, she is empathetic but careful, and she shows her heart on her sleeve most of the time. She can’t be bullied into meetings with bachelors, nor can she be paid off or convinced to perform like a toy at some noble’s evening party. So yes, she likes to go back to Ionia and she likes to maintain her freedoms. Because she has paid back the Buvelle family every cent she’s taken from them and she was cleared by Lestara herself, Sona is one-hundred percent debt free. She owes nothing to anyone. That’s a freedom she’s fought for, tooth and nail, and this informs her day-to-day actions more than anything.

I will maintain my security. I will maintain my peace. And I will be good and kind and true, because that is who I am and who I have always been. I will promote unity, virtue, kindness, dignity.

I will always hold my head up high and be proud of my choices.

That’s how she acts & where her decisions to use violence, pressure, or anything else comes from.

I hope that helps! 

[natures-mimic]

My guess is that rogue mages in Demacia were mostly isolated lone wolves and the magehunters never had to deal with an actual group of combat-specialists. Before this event being a mage in these lands meant you could trust no one because every single person might be an enemy selling you out. There was no means to organize or protect each other - this is what the entire system of oppression build on. But that seems to have changed now, so of course they have some trouble.

Yeah, but Demacias arch rival, Noxus, the all inclusive, probably has an absolute crap ton of mages, so to say Demacia doesn’t know how to deal with mages, both organized and disorganized is just not possible.  Even if the normal way they would deal with em is petricite, the would know ways outside that to do so.  Plus Demacia is all about politics from what I can tell, so even an organized group would be torn apart after the initial shock of there uprising

the longest i can see sylas surviving is like a couple months maybe more.

[tempered-fate-wandering-spirit]

Starter for @silver-of-the-night

Vayne would receive a letter from Quinn, one night, and a brief explanation.

“Ah, Vayne, I finally found you. I have a message for you from the Prince. It seems he wishes to speak with you.”

The letter would read as such,

“Lady Vayne,

     It has been a great deal of time since last I saw you in person. Perhaps too long. I hear about your work in musings about the castle as the days pass, and though I am happy for your success, I also worry about your escapades from time to time. If it would be convenient on your time frame, I would enjoy your company and presence. I realize you must dislike the politics of Demacia, much as most do, but I request your presence not as the Prince. I do so as simply a man who admires your work and who sometimes worries for you.”

                                                                                                   Regards,

                                                                                                           Jarvan IV