Our Hidden Blades

Escape

"For the interpersonal relationship with the enemy Katarina Du Coteau of Noxus, Garen Crownguard will, from this point on, be detained under the watch of Sir Jarvan Lightshield the fourth." 

Katarina kept a straight face. Sitting at the stand, Garen kept a straight face as well, the whole time. She had to watch as it was revealed just how freely he was treating her.

"Is it true you brought more food then necessary to the prisoner?",

"Is it true you brought the prisoner 'snacks' on occasion?",

"Is it true you would spend multiple hours in the prisoner's cell where she was being detained?",

"Is it true you let the prisoner out of her cell?"

Yes, yes, yes. 

"Is it true you think of the prisoner on a more personal level rather than as an enemy of Demacia?"

Garen had paused. For the first time, his answer wasn't available in seconds. His eyes had drifted toward Katarina and her heart beat quietly beneath her chest. Part of her hoped it was just him being nice. Another part hoped it wasn't. She hoped, for just a few seconds, that she was special to him. 

He took a deep breath, as if he regretted what he was about to say, "Yes." 

It was still on her mind. She was returned to her old cell, yet it felt completely different. Not only was there no Garen, she was stuck with the thought that she would die soon, sentenced to a week of detainment and then death. 

She let days pass. She began marking down her days against the wall again. She was fed minimally by a lifeless drone of Demacia, who dropped her food through a slot sloppily then left. 

She could feel through the way her bones began to ache that she was becoming weaker. Nothing stopped her from exercising, but the lack of food and hydration still made her feel held back. 

 "How are you holding up without your little love toy?" Jarvan asked, come in for a mocking visit.

Katarina observed the dirt underneath her nails. "You've wrongly convicted him. I could care less if he will be detained. It's just a hollow threat."

She looked up to observe Jarvan and just as she expected, he looked uncomfortable. It was probably hard for him to commit his best friend to life in prison.

She went on, "He was being gracious, a thing you demacians are most fond of. He, at least, knows how a villain like me should be dealt with." 

Jarvan stayed silent. She could almost hear the gears in his head moving. 

He moved out of the room quietly. Even the clanging of keys and locks was completely silent.

Katarina sighed and sat against the wall, overcome by a feeling that said lack of action. 

Even when Jarvan would come in to mock her, he was too easy to hit emotionally. She knew exactly what made him tick, and he could be silenced in seconds. "Boring," She'd sigh under her breath. 

"Mistress..." The whispers reverberated through her dreams, "Mistress..."

Her dream of her old, grandeur life before the war went through her head, yet started to fade out. A feeling of sorrow overcame Katarina as the dream faded into darkness. In her dream she screamed into the void. 

"Mistress." The voice called from the void. Katarina opened her eyes, realizing it wasn't part of her dream. It was real. She blinked and sat up quickly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Her eyes searched the darkness. 

Talon stepped out of a shadow in the corner outside her cell. He fit in so well as an assassin, with some of the best stealth she knew. It was no wonder even she couldn't detect him.

"Talon." She said, shocked. She stood weakly from her "bed" and put a hand on a bar of the cell. "Did my father send you?" 

Talon pulled a key from between his armor. "Yes, a week ago." He began to fiddle with the lock of her cell.

"A week ago? What took you so long?" 

"The prince has been keeping watch of your key very diligently..." Talon said, obviously ashamed it took him so long to retrieve it. 

Katarina understood: It wasn't his fault, exactly. The prince was known for keeping very close watches on the things he needed as important. 

Talon opened the cell door and Katarina gave him a thankful nod. They may be some close variation of possible adopted brother-sister, but their relationship was closer to mistress and servant or simple team mates. They both knew their place. 

Talon stashed the key back into his armor and began walking quietly up the stairs ahead of Katarina. She stayed close, though she knew she was the protector in this situation. It was not Talon they were scared of - it was Katarina. Together, however, they could be quite the team. 

They exchanged any possible plans they might need with their hand movements. "What? Eagle?" She whispered after reading a combination of hand motions, "Are you sure? Treestar is more probable. Don't underestimate them." 

Talon shook his head as he walked up the stairs ahead of her. "Don't act like they're not that weak. I already took out a few of them and they barely put up a fight." 

Katarina scoffed disbelievingly. "Okay, but now they all know we're here. They'll be more prepared then that." 

Talon looked back at her and began to open his mouth to argue back, but he suddenly stopped. Katarina stopped as well, both frozen. He put a hand up slowly and made a motion, twisting his fingers together. Katarina nodded.

There was quiet talking on the other side. Whoever it was didn't care if they already knew they were there. 'How cocky,' Katarina thought, yet she knew she wasn't one to talk.

After opening the door, neither was surprised to be met with Jarvan and multiple of his front-line men. Though swords, staffs, wands, and whatever else pointed at them in all directions but backwards, Katarina and Talon were gone in a blink of an eye, leaving a line of Demacian men either cut up or forever scarred by the chain of events.