Forbidden

Chapter Seven

So, I have this great idea, given to me by the people who so kindly sit beside me at work… the only problem is you have to read this chapter and wait for the next one to get to it. ;) But, trust me, it's going to totally revolutionize this story. (:

Chapter 7:

The air was cold against Garen's skin as Katarina and him made their way across the land to get to Noxus. It was only about a day's journey to the west, and the both of them hadn't really spoken since they left the golden gates of Demacia. Katarina was focused on the mission: how could they get out alive? She was replaying her objective over and over, wondering how in the world they would be able to pull this off without being killed in the process.

The two came to a hollow within the forest, surrounded by trees and a ring of rocks. Katarina scanned the area to make sure they were alone and immediately sat down. Garen sat down beside her and began to make a fire, using the skills he'd learned from Lux as a mage to create a fire. Katarina watched in interest as she shivered through the cold air. Within seconds, a small fire was lit within the pit, and Katarina was no longer shivering.

"How did you learn to do that?" she asked quietly.

"Luxanna," he answered and rubbed his hands in front of the flames. "She said, if you're ever in need of a flame, think of me really hard, then think of warmth and it will come naturally. I didn't think it would work, but there's a fire in front of me."

Katarina stiffened a laugh. "Garen… tell me a story."

"Hmmm…" Garen said and leaned back. His armor held him up a little above the ground, making the warmth from the fire strike him on his cheeks. "Once upon a time, in Demacia, there was a Prince. He was a very happy man, and his father wanted him to choose a woman to be Queen. The Prince was greeted with countless women, all eager for the riches and wealth the throne brought them. However, none of them were a right match for the him.

"One day, there was an attack on a Demacian camp by a woman named Shyvanna. She was a half-dragon, half-woman creature, with rage in her heart to avenge her father's death. Unfortunately, the Demacians were able to contain her. When the Prince questioned her, he began to see something more than rage in her heart. He fell madly in love with her, but when he took her home to his father, the King was less than impressed with his choice of women.

"He forbid the Prince from marrying her, but because of her ability and her honor, he appointed her as a General of the Royal Vanguard. The Prince was forced to a life of secrecy, sneaking out to see her in the dead of night, and making sure that she knew his love for her. Luckily, she felt the same way. The Prince promised her that when he King, they would be together. Now, they're waiting for that day to come. She is still a general and he is still sneaking around in the dark."

"Jarvan…" Katarina laughed. Garen shot her a smile. "He didn't strike me as the type."

"I didn't strike you as the type I am either, did I?" he asked and leaned towards her. Katarina scooted closer to the man, with her daggers in front of her to prove she was harmless.

"Garen…" she whispered as Garen pushed himself on top of her.

Katarina pulled him onto her, feeling the weight of his armor crash against her. It made her breathless, but in a way she loved it. He ran his hands down her dies, feeling the soft cool skin against his calloused fingertips, unable to get enough of what she was giving him. Their lips were just centimeters apart as they breathed heavily, staring into their eyes, not making a sound but the breathing… their breathing…

And Garen softly pressed his lips against hers. They were soft and inviting. Out here, they didn't have to worry about someone walking in on them or hearing them. Last night, they had to be quiet and Garen was constantly placing his fingers over poor Katarina's lips to sheath her moans. On this forest floor, she could moan and scream as loud as she wanted… Garen appreciated that. His fingers became tangled in her red curls, pulling them down so he could kiss down the line of her jaw, to her neck, and collarbone. She groaned a soft whimper and he felt himself begin to loose control.