Chapter Text
Summer winds from the nearby mountains exhaled into the kingdom of Demacia; the sun set later and later behind their staggered peaks. When it rose, so too did countless soldiers - you were "deemed" a sorceress but were not worthy of such a title. You appeared to lack control over the caustic magic, which doomed you to pick up menial tasks each time you faltered. Oftentimes you were tasked to be a sort of emissary to other towns, but never other kingdoms.
In your own kingdom, soldiers were supposed to live in separate halls scattered around the main castle. Despite that, it seemed that one soldier in particular was above that law. The brother of your fellow, much more skilled sorceress, Lux, would make a point to visit you almost daily. He said he harbored many strong feelings for you, and you would resonate with those feelings breathlessly as you lay underneath him.
A few times other soldiers of the Vanguard would come looking for Garen, not knowing he was just past a wooden door belonging to you. They pounded on the wood and shouted for their absent Sword-Captain. Maybe if they'd listened, they'd hear him speaking in low tones about sappy things like love. Maybe he was above the law of the land simply because he was the best solider in the kingdom. He'd stay behind after everyone had left, convincing you to stay simply by the gentle look in his eyes. Day after day and night after night he remained unequivocally in love with you.
You felt as though you almost loved Garen, yet you weren't able to fully commit to such feelings. Truth be told, you were young. You had many desires in your heart other than serving Demacia and becoming a wife. This is why you kept failing at being a sorceress. When they'd send you away, you would get a chance to see the towns nearby - yet you yearned to see what lie beyond the mountain tops. What else inhabited this world other than the same old kingdom and the same old blue-eyed swordsman that swore his undying love at least once a week?
You were a competent sorceress. You could've been right up there with the likes of Lux. But the fleeting exhilaration of the unknown was much more captivating to you.
The eve before you left for the town of Ebonheart, Garen embraced you and left a pining kiss upon your lips. "Return to me soon." He said.
If anyone found out about this tryst, you would surely be shunned. You – relieved of your duties. Him - likely not.
You rode on horseback to the quaint town nestled between the Silent Forest and the Greenfang Mountains. If you continued east, you would soon reach the feared kingdom of Noxus. Though, you wondered if such descriptors were fact. Garen had told you tales of their brutality; he had experienced it first-hand and returned home with a plethora of scars and bruises upon his body. Not many were as fortunate as him, but that fact somehow piqued your interest in Noxus.
When you returned home, you presented a letter from the village leader and a personal report that stated you had not met or seen anyone of Noxian allegiance. You hadn't read the letter, as it wasn't yours to read. It was traded between very important hands until it landed in front of King Jarvan III. The only reason you knew of this was because of Garen. He snuck around corners, stepping silently, until he reached your room sometime between midnight and the rising of the sun. He told you that the king's stoic countenance softly morphed into a look of great concern as he read that letter. Noxian soldiers had marched as far as the edge of the Silent Forest, and many could only speculate what they were planning.
"He's going to ask you to return to Ebonheart for a few nights."
You laid your head upon his bare chest and felt a faint smile creep upon your lips. Truth be told, you were thinking of taking off towards Noxus to see if those tales had any merit. Maybe what you learned there could be of great use to Demacia - maybe not. The next morning you changed into the plainest, most inconspicuous dress. You truly looked like a maiden instead of a soldier, though you felt you could still fight if need be. You just chose to hide that fact from nearly everyone, including Garen. The same Garen who swore he'd send a battalion to find you if you didn't return - the same Garen who then fell victim to lust and left marks upon your body and ultimatums upon your lips to remind you that you belonged to him. You did stop in Ebonheart for one evening. It was only to admire the mountains and densely green forest before the trees became sparser and sparser upon crossing Nockmirch and Valoran. By the time two nights had passed, you wondered if Garen's imagination began to roam. Maybe he was so possessive because he didn't trust you. You wondered if soon the whole Vanguard would be upon horseback, smashing down twigs and rocks into the earthen sod as they galloped towards you.
—
On the third night of your journey, you stopped to rest in a village on the border between Valoran and Noxus. In contrast to the other towns along the way, this one was teeming with Noxian soldiers. They marched nightly across the main road and poked their way in and out of homes and shopfronts. Just by their demeanor, you could tell there was something different about Noxians. Their people were calloused and their soldiers were enchantingly violent in their actions.
You sat at the inn, arms and legs sore from the endless galloping. This was the farthest you had ever been outside of Demacia. Maybe it was the most ridiculous thing you had ever done, but it made you feel undeniably alive. At this point, repercussions didn’t matter. You knew if you fucked up beyond belief, Garen would come save you. Maybe that might quell any doubts you had about your love for the charming swordsman. Then you could get married and sentenced to a life of further servitude.
You could lie to Garen and say that you were kidnapped in Ebonheart - dragged all the way to this border town. You could say they were going to torture or execute you in Noxus. He’d never let you leave again if he believed such a lie. He’d hold you more tightly than before - he’d fuck you like every time was the last time.
But maybe he wasn’t so gullible. You had never even spoke to a Noxian before, so you didn’t know if they’d just slit your throat upon finding out your allegiance.
In the morning, you peered out from the inn’s window. In the distance you could see the black tips of the immense castle in Noxus – its red flags waving rapidly in the wind. Even further out, you could see a deep blue skyline that melted into the virulent ocean. You decided that once you got there, you would take up a job and pose as a normal citizen.
A series of violent knocks rattled the door. You hurried to slip your dress back on, not knowing that a moment later, the door would be kicked open and slam against the wall. The sound rattled the room. Your heart felt like it froze and you instinctively conjured up fire behind your back.
Before your stood three or four Noxian soldiers, clad head to toe in bulky metal armor. All of their faces were obscured by intricate helmets. One of the taller swordsmen approached you, coming so close as to pit his chest up against your face.
“Last town before Noxus. Never seen you here before.” He said, grasping your chin between his metal-clad fingers.
Dark eyes glinted from behind his helmet. He then reached his hand towards your bare shoulder and in response you burned that small fire against his chest. He quickly stepped back and drew his sword; though the fire was small, its intensity left black char on his chest plate.
It was then that the room became a flurry of motion. You backed up towards the window, but before you could escape, two of the soldiers ran at you, grasped your hips from the window sill, and restrained your hands.
The one with the charred chest stepped back up and traced his thumb from your lips to your collarbone, stopping short of your breasts. He laughed quietly, like that was the most pathetic thing he had ever seen.
“Darius will love this.”
Fighting against them was futile. It was like they weren’t human; every jarring move you made to wriggle yourself free was unequivocally futile. Only one soldier was enough to hold you down once your arms and legs were tied. You were slung over the shoulder of the handsy, charred-chest one. As he walked out of the inn and onto the sodden main road, you could only stare hopelessly towards the ground. Part of you hoped this brutality was limited only to acts of violence.
You were put into a temporary jail cell right next to some sort of guard barrack. The guard placed you surprisingly gently onto the cell’s stone ground and lifted up his helmet. You were ashamed to admit it, but he was handsome. The sharpness of his features and the blackness of his hair was not something you had seen before.
“Don’t be scared.” He knelt down, grasping your chin tightly with his hand. You sat up on your elbow and tried to pull your head away. The soldier brought his lips just a hair away from yours; his eyes were burning with what seemed to be ire and lust. It was terrifying yet inexplicably exhilarating, but the moment was cut short when a door swung open and hit the wall.
The soldier dropped his hand and promptly stood up. Your arms were burning.
“Sir Darius!” All soldiers in the room stood to face and salute one person.
You closed your eyes and laid upon the cold cobblestone. You could’ve cried, but your newly acquired lust for danger prevented you from producing any tears. Maybe you’d be perfect for battle instead of running errands or slinging spells against practice targets.
Every man in the room filed out the door. Whoever this soldier was, he must’ve signaled them to leave. He must’ve been in charge of them all, much like how Garen was in charge of the Vanguard.
You wondered how mad Garen would’ve been if he saw the state you were in. The thought of him barging in and clashing with the other soldiers made you feel warm. A while later, you fell asleep; it was the reasonable choice considering your wrists and ankles were bound.
In your dreams, you imagined you were soaring through the sky like an eagle. The whole world presented itself below you - you could go anywhere and not one man or kingdom could hold you back.
The morning sun peeked through the small bars on the wall and reflected onto the gray stone floor. Your eyes followed the glint onto a guard; he stood in front of your cell, arms crossed.
“Sit up and look pretty,” he said gruffly, “Sir Darius wants to talk.”
Not a moment later, another man walked in front of the cell. Unlike the other soldiers, he had no helmet on. And again, you were ashamed to admit that he was much more handsome than the other man. He was tall, with dark hair and smooth muscles that had seen the claws of dragons and countless untold beasts. It made you suddenly nervous, yet you began to feel warmth in other places.
He unlocked your cell and dismissed the guard. You sat on the floor in front of him; he towered above you. He smelled of sweat and blood and you could tell he lacked the ability to be merciful.
“A Demacian rat sneaks into Noxian territory and assaults a soldier. Not the first time I’ve heard this one.”
His voice was gravelly, but its hum made so much sense to your ears. It was absolutely absurd but part of your wanted him to drop the Noxian/Demacian bullshit and take you. Garen never made your feel so devious. Garen was so, so gentle.
“You’ll be held here for questioning. And if you try to fight, you will regret it.”
You nodded slowly and swallowed as he turned around and left. A guard stepped back in front of the cell and kept his eyes glued to you. You had a daydream where that guard knew not how to control his gaze. It went up and under your dress and along your curves. His strong figure stoked a fire within you and you sat up against the cell bars.
In that daydream, you whispered something along the lines of, “I want you,” and he obliged. You didn’t know who he was or what he looked like, but you imagined that he had a face similar to Darius. The lips of that face feverishly met yours and his hands slipped through the bars and up your dress.
You woke up briefly from this dream to see the guard still standing watch. He hadn’t moved an inch. If only King Jarvan knew you were practically in Noxus daydreaming of getting felt up by its soldiers. And again, if only Garen knew. You lost count but the king’s three day mission had stretched into four or five. You really were too intoxicated off of these newfound desires to remember.
—
The next day, a pair of soldiers dragged you to a bucket of soapy water and a sponge and ordered you to bathe. They had to cut your restraints, but if anyone needed restraints, it was the soldiers. You thought you’d secure some privacy if you faced the wall, but when you were done, you felt a gloved hand grope your ass.
You couldn’t deny that the sensation exhilarated you, but the only one you truly felt a pang of lust for was Darius.
They threw you a cloth that shockingly was able to wrap around your body a few times.
“Enjoy the new dress.”
You were locked back into your cell. The only thing keeping your from freezing was the summer sun streaming through the window onto your (hair color) hair. You fell asleep under the gaze of another guard, and when you awoke, the sun’s warmth had long dissipated.
“So cold..” You whispered to the floor. The guard heard you.
“You can come with me, but I’ll have to tie you back up.”
You nodded lazily out of exhaustion. He tied you up and carried you princess-style out of the cell. Why was he doing this? You dozed off for a minute in his arms and found yourself in a plush, large bed. It was incredibly warm, so you didn’t really care why or whose it was.
A man sat in the corner of the room with a sword in his lap. It was Darius. The door was closed and you presumed there were at least two guards outside of it. Even though you were tired, that warmth pooled between your legs again.
Darius wasn’t looking at you. In fact, he was looking at the floor. He was so brazen that he didn’t even need to keep his eye on you. Every fiber in your body screamed that you should fight and get out of here and go home. Yet there was a yearning for this danger and this novel desire for a man other than Garen. You knew you couldn’t have made it out on your own anyways. These men weren’t men - they had the strength of beasts. If you fought, you died.
“You saw the patrols in the Silent Forest?” He asked, rubbing his chin. “Or you heard of it?”
You looked around the room lazily for an answer. What would be the consequence for answering this?
“I-I only heard of it. I never saw them.” You said softly onto the mattress.
Darius looked at you, eyes moving over the folds of the cloth.
“And who sent you out here? That worthless King Jarvan?” He stood up and set his sword on the floor.
“Yes… yes.” You breathed, blinking slowly.
You hadn’t forgotten that you were never sent here. King Jarvan would’ve been a murderer if he had willingly sent you this far. Darius approached the bed and crouched down so his eyes met yours.
“What the fuck did you do to get sent out here?” He had this wicked look in his eyes that resembled your own hunger. “King Jarvan doesn’t ever send me pretty girls like you.”
His voice was almost a growl, like it was teeming with carnal desire - or a need to kill. He moved his face closer and your lips met. There was no hesitation on your part. His hands snaked their way under the cloth and gripped your ass; somewhere along the line of feeling your body, his finger swept against wetness on your leg.
“Thank you King Jarvan,” he laughed quietly, yet there was malevolence behind his statement.
Though it was torture, Darius kept your wrists and ankles tied. After all, to him, the best woman was probably one that he could totally and utterly dominate. He tore the cloth from your body and his eyes seemingly became darker as he took off his armor - never breaking the line of sight. It clattered onto the floor and he climbed on top of you. You could see the outline of his dick as he still wore a cloth pair of pants.
“Please…” you moaned quietly.
“Please what?” He responded as he slowly rubbed his fingers between your closed legs.
You laid there with your mouth slightly agape and you were practically soaking the sheet below you as you watched him.
“You want me to cut these off so I can fuck you?”
You nodded quickly and bit your lip as he used a spare blade to cut the ropes. Your legs fell to the side and you instinctively sat up on your elbows. He deftly grabbed you by the throat.
“Get on your knees.” He said in a low voice.
You obliged and sat in front of him on the floor. You undid his pants, took the base of his dick into your hand and then slowly pushed your mouth down onto it. You wanted him so bad that you didn’t even want to see his dick until it was slipping in and out of you.
Darius gripped the back of your head and slowly but surely pushed your further and further down on it. His head tipped back but he never broke eye contact with you. You felt so feral that you began touching yourself. You had never been this wet before, not even for Garen.
Darius saw your hand moving around and pulled your mouth off his cock. You moaned - out of pain - when he picked you up by the arm and put you back on the bed. He didn’t know how sore you were, but at this point, even you didn't care.
He laid down next to you and motioned for you to put your ass on his face. The thought made your cheeks turn pink. But you were mad if you said you didn’t want to. He held your hips down and his tongue and lips meshed with your pussy. It felt so divine that you couldn’t help but moan his name. It must’ve been loud, because the door creaked open ever so slightly to the noise of shifting footsteps and armor clinking together.
Darius stopped, much to your dismay.
“Close the fucking door.” He shouted. It immediately shut before he even finished the sentence.
He picked you up by the waist and set you down on your back, continuing where he left off. He was like an animal, shoving his tongue in you and pulsing it against your clit. All the wetness was being lapped up and continually replaced by more and more. It was the most gratifying thing ever to be teased for this long and finally orgasm onto his mouth.
Your body writhed in pleasure, yet he kept a strong hold on your hips and slowly kept licking. You looked down into his eyes and his lecherous glare made your heart stop. He bit the inside of your thigh hard enough to elicit yet another yelp.
“Sir Darius.” A quiet yet alarmed voice spoke from behind the door.
He threw a blanket over himself and cracked the door. All you could hear was the faint words “Demacian,” “forces,” and “spotted.” It was enough to make out that Garen had kept his word and was coming to rescue you.
Darius nodded and said something in a low whisper. You couldn’t make it out, but you were hoping he’d come back into the candle light; you weren’t done indulging in this moment. Even if Garen was making his way to that very door, you didn’t care. You were so full of lust for Darius that you didn’t care if Garen slaughtered all the other guards and walked in on him thrusting deep inside you.
Darius picked up his armor and began to get dressed. You just couldn’t end this here - you might never see him again. His absence would leave you yearning for the rest of your life. You sat up on the bed; he looked at you plainly with a hint of desire.
“Please… I want you.”
He took a good glance at the door, and mentally said “fuck it.” His armor hit the floor again. You were pushed onto your back; he forcefully spread your legs open and pressed in. Everything about this moment - how his dick felt sliding against your walls and how ruggedly handsome he looked - made this immense feeling of heat proliferate throughout your body. He thrusted faster than Garen ever had before; your moans and yelps escaped under the door and echoed through the cobbled barracks.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he growled, using his hand to grasp your throat roughly.
It was clear he was doing this as a favor, and he needed to leave as soon as possible. He was so forceful that it made tears well up in your eyes, but that force made you feel so alive. There was no way you could’ve orgasmed from it; instead, you felt euphoric. Darius’ movements gradually slowed and he gave one final deep push, leaving his seed dripping as he pulled himself out.
It was then he realized that you were still a threat, especially in this moment, and he used the bedsheets to tie your wrists and feet again. Then, once he armored up, he grabbed his sword, and hastened out the door to face the man you loved but had run from.
All of those marks that Garen left on you were erased by feverish lust for a man so intoxicatingly ruthless. Yet, you knew in the long run that you would run back to Garen. Men like Darius provided fleeting, passionate love that would never last.