[[REVISING, 2023]] War of the Obnoxious [Garen x Katarina Fan Fiction]

1: Petrichor

K A T A R I N A 

Finally.

Thick, grey clouds loomed over me, accompanied by low, angry rumbling. The rain dropped like bullets over Demacian grounds, welcoming my arrival. My boots fell heavily on a puddle, distorting the dark presence it reflected.

By my hands, the war between Demacia and Noxus will dissipate. Well, perhaps, not fully, as I love wars and the pride I get from the killing.

The thing I am about to do is both a mission and a personal, lifelong goal. A pleasurable activity, if you will.

Therefore, time is of the essence.

I clipped my cloak to conceal the leather attire, Noxian tattoos, marks, and blades underneath, then pulled my hood further down, aware that the rain had already washed away whatever face powder I used to hide my scar.

Two men in white and gold armor were guarding each side of the door, and they stood, almost frozen, their eyes focused directly ahead. They don't seem surprised to see me. Matter of fact, they even held the doors open for me. Like open arms.

Fools.

If this was Noxus, they'd have a total stranger's head chopped off if they could. If the stranger put up a fight, then hats off to that stranger.

But this is not Noxus. This is the oh-so-proper Demacia where people don't readily smile. No one here enjoyed the spirit of a good fight and sword clashes. Lift a sword, and they send you straight to jail, or worse, the Void.

I stepped into the main hall of the tower, squinting at the useless landscape paintings that decorated the marble walls. One of the paintings was a portrait of the Demacian king standing proudly with the tip of his sword touching the earth. His lips were taut, almost a frown, and his eyes bore into mine, almost as if he wanted to say 'Get out'.

The men closed the doors as soon as I was inside. Pity. They don't really know what's going on. They weren't guarding well enough. 

I slowly followed the spiral staircase, the decorations now seeming less and less. Instead of bright, fiery torches, candlelit sconces were arranged on the walls. At this point, everything had become dim and cold. By the time I reached my last step, a thunderous roar boomed, a sign that I am here.

Vengence is mine.

I roughly grabbed the lever and tugged it down, the door clicking open without a creak. Inside was a hollow room with only a bed and a writing desk in place. From the arched window, bright lightning briefly scarred the sky. 

My gaze immediately shifted to the big boy in the room, sitting hunched on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together, legs apart.

"Du Couteau," he said without looking up at me.

"Crowngurd," I remarked with disgust, feeling an involuntary smirk appear on my face.

He was in his sleeping robes, completely weaponless and... vulnerable. He didn't seem to panic though, which was good. He is expecting a fight and I am expecting him to be ready anytime, no matter what the occasion.

When he finally looked at me, he spoke again, "You have the nerve to come here."

"Is that all?" I slowly reached for my blade.

"Even disguised yourself as a maid looking for work. Now that impressed me," he gave a cocky grin. "I didn't know you can clean."

I snorted, my blades now out of their caves, "Oh, I can clean up pretty good."

"And you actually have the patience to wait that long to get to me."

"Your guards are stupid to let me in," I said dryly.

"Oh, I let them," he stood, picking up the hilt of his large sword, now pointing it towards me. "As soon as you began, I've done a bit of detective work. Followed all the clues. And here you are, lured by bait. You think some innocent fella would just hand you my whereabouts just like that?"

I cleared my throat, recalling that one time some stranger helped me with this mission. I will not deny this fact in front of Garen, but I had, indeed, taken the bait. I will take any risk possible just to be this close to him.

There was an uncanny silence that seeped into the room. 

"You know I like games," I playfully said, batting my eyelashes at him. "Will you let me play?"

He didn't smile. "Gladly." 

With both hands, he tightly gripped the handle of his sword and charged towards me, full force, his bare feet audibly making sounds across the marble floor.

This is it.  This is exactly the moment I've been waiting for. My lips widened into a hungry, vicious smile. With a deep breath, I gripped the hilts of my daggers until my nails dug against the palms of my hands, and dove for him.