Shauna Vayne is a lone wolf. A huntress that prowls the night and chases those whose hands have long been tarnished by forbidden, corrupted magic. Such a task required her full concentration and devotion that romance had been nothing more than a rather mundane topic most people, unlike her, had the luxury to fuss about.
And yet it was that very topic that kept presenting itself to her persistently. Vayne was well known within the League and this fame has done enough to keep her family name afloat within the circle of aristocrats within Demacia. But decline itself would be imminent and even now, Shauna finds herself seemingly coerced into the decision of marrying into one of the aristocrat houses.
There really wasn't much of an issue with her hunts, as most people in Demacia already knows about this routine of hers, aristocrats would be of no exception. She was one of the ravishing beauties, a natural head turner that it seems even the prospect of hunting down a man would be replaced by a line of suitors waiting instead to take her hand.
No. None of these were the problem.
It was Vayne's reluctance of the idea. Finding that her supposed spouse might just be interested in sharing her fame, her fortune or perhaps, even spoil her work for her. One thing she needed least, was one more troublesome individual to worry about besides her targets.
Ironically, if she were indeed to choose to worry about the matter at hand; she prefers to choose someone she feels in some way attracted to. She found herself more in favor of finding out what it is normal people find worth troubling themselves of the matter, figuring she might as well experience slightly what she has been denying herself for so long.
Surprisingly, she found the grip at which her denial holds her extremely tight as she found herself in the most compromising situation she can be internally. Though calm and just seemingly idle, Shauna's thoughts were in a complete disarray as her confusion carried on befuddling her mind.
One encounter on a fruitless night was all it took and the aristocrat has found herself in the downward, spiraling descent of infatuation. Like a twister, she was disoriented with how she felt as she struggled to rationalize.
It was indeed worrisome. How a still figure of the night had managed to somehow bewitch the huntress whose eyes was set solely on those who strayed their path.
It was one moment.
One ostensible foreordained meeting under the moonlit rooftops of Demacia which will change the Night Hunter forever.
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Talon x Vayne (Pending Title)
FanfictionRestless. That was the state of the aristocrat's mind at the moment she caught her own thoughts afloat. Never had she dithered this way before and neither would she have expected herself to and yet at that very moment, she was perturbed by her very...
