Mordekaiser slammed the poor wooden door behind him, ignoring the loud cracking noise that followed, and slumped down on the leather couch big enough to fit three normal sized people, or one ludicrously large knight. The giant breathed a sigh of relief, sinking further into the sofa's plump cushions, glad to be back in his home within the Institute of War. Most of the champions lived in their own homes, earning enough to afford all sorts of luxuries that would simply be wasted on the small apartments the Institute had lent to them. Mordekaiser, however, had no need or desire for such pointless things, nor did he have any friends to visit or places to go. And so, instead, he chose to just permanently stay within the institute for convenience.

He was exhausted, and yet, still in a good mood. He did not feel overwhelmed by the exhaustion, but satisfied by it, as the tiredness in his arms and legs signalled a job well done; a fight well fought. The tyrant smiled fondly to himself, looking back on the battle in Summoner's Rift mere minutes ago and remembering the look on Garen Crownguard's face as he slammed his trusty morning star into the Demacian's stomach. He'd always been a snotty little worm, Mordekaiser thought to himself, a goody two shoes that spent more time preaching about honour than he did doing honourable things.

It worked out quite well, considering his duties in participating in the institute's matches, that he didn't like most of – or rather, all - the other champions. Granted, Mordekaiser did not know much about them other than their political views and their skills on the rift, but he disliked them all the same. They were all too eager to preach about the great things that the institute's existence did for them, for the world, creating peace between nations which would otherwise be impossible to achieve. They all saw the battles not as a source of enjoyment, but as a chore that had to be carried out, merely a means to an end.

Mordekaiser didn't much care for peace, and he didn't much care for politics either. He would be more than happy to take on many of the league's champions and see if they were quite so mighty without the institute's balancing power in effect and the threat of real consequences looming over them, but as it was the knight could settle for the little games they played with each other on the Rift. After all, the pain his enemies experienced, the rush of adrenaline feeling the cool tip of a sword whisk inches away from your face, the swelling sense of pride upon achieving victory, all of those things still existed, and made playing by the league's silly rules worthwhile. What better competition was there than competing to keep one's life? Just picturing the look on Crownguard's face again as Mordekaiser towered above him, laughing maniacally as he brought his mace down right on his puny little-

"Knock knock!" A voice called out, interrupting his satisfying train of thought. Mordekaiser jolted slightly at the noise, and then berated himself for being startled so easily. A knife in the heart was fine, a bullet whizzed inches from his head and he remained cool as ice, but someone taps their fist on a door and then he panics. Putting aside his reaction for now, he paused before answering, wracking his brains as to who could possibly be on the other side of the door. He didn't have many friends, and the friends he did have would just call him rather than bothering with a personal visit. He wasn't scheduled for another fight yet either, so no one from the institute would have little details to bore him with.

"Who is it?" Mordekaiser shouted, not really wanting to get up from his rather comfy position on the couch. Maybe someone had just gotten lost in the institute's many corridors.

"It's Elise, open up."

"I'm busy right now." Mordekaiser moaned, sinking deeper into the couch cushions, closing his eyes and hoping in vain that Elise would for once not be the stubborn woman he knew she was and just leave him alone. She never came to see him on good terms just out of the blue.

"No, you aren't, I checked your schedule. You don't have any rift matches booked, and you have no hobbies." Mordekaiser silently cursed the league for making his private information so readily available. Desperately he tried to think up a plausible excuse.

"I… I have a cramp." He mumbled lamely.

"Just open the door, Morde- I mean, Lord Mordekaiser. I'm not having a conversation with a door with the institute's people looking at me like I'm a crazy woman. Please, it's really important." Sighing, and realising if he didn't get up now that Elise would simply guilt her into opening it at a later stage, the iron knight pushed himself to his feet, opening the now damaged door from his earlier slam with some difficulty. He was greeted with a very nervous smile.

"Hi…" Elise muttered meekly, needing to crane her neck to meet the warlord's intense gaze. She then immediately smiled a broad smile, however, and went in for a quick hug, which Mordekaiser did not reciprocate.

"It's good to see you, old friend. Sometimes I forget how big you are in person." She giggled into his chest plate, to which Mordekaiser merely grunted.

"We see each other all the time in league matches." He reminded her. "And you are just small."

"Yes, maybe I am, but we never get to really talk. You know, as friends." Elise waited as if she were expecting a response, but Mordekaiser just unravelled himself out of the hug and stared at her expectantly, having faith that she didn't come to bother him simply for a catch up.

"Can I come in?" She asked, already taking a tentative step into the knight's domain, trying to peek around his bulky armour to no avail.

"I assume you will regardless of whether I allow it." He conceded, rubbing the ridge of his nose tiredly through his helmet. Elise gave him a light bow and didn't hesitate in skipping past him excitedly to observe the apartment. The spider's mouth made an 'O' shape at the site of the room, in awe that this was the place her liege spent so much time in. She recognised a lot of the design from when she had moved into her own institute provided room just a few doors down. The same couch that seemed to have a rather large indent on it from presumably struggling to keep up with Mordekaiser's weight, and a matching drab brown carpet stained with who knows what. She tried to shake the thought that it looked suspiciously like blood. What had once presumably been a fruit bowl now had packets of crisps and other snacks overflowing in it, which had apparently been eaten and then left empty on the floor. She wondered how he maintained such a strong physique eating such junk and concluded bearing the weight of his prized armour all the time probably helped out a bit. But then besides some of this normality and messiness, there was also a very out of place pair of bloody swords over the entrance, like a coat of arms, and an electric guitar with an unreasonably sharp and menacing looking body held up in the far corner of the room. Elise would be lying if she said she could pinpoint the underlying theme of his decoration but assumed that the tyrant either couldn't be bothered to fully decorate, or that she was simply not educated enough to understand his home décor genius.

"I, uh, like what you've done with the place." She praised nervously, choosing to sit in a rather plain looking chair whilst Mordekaiser resumed his place lying on the couch, placing her hands on crossed legs neatly.

"Please just spare me the idle chat, Elise. What did you come here to talk about?"

"Ah, sorry. I forgot you weren't one for small talk." Elise gulped, and glanced over to Mordekaiser, slightly relieved to find his eyes were closed instead of concentrated on her. She took a deep breath to calm herself a little.

"Well, you see, the high council of the Institute of War recently held a meeting with the emissaries from all the city states. Naturally, for the Isles, Yorick was our representative. You remember appointing him, don't you?" She paused briefly, before adding, "It was a very good decision on your part, Yorick is very agreeable and probably better suited to the role than either of us."

"Yes, I remember that…" Mordekaiser said slowly, trying to work out exactly where the conversation was going, and more worryingly, why Elise seemed to be so nervous. "He's been on hundreds of these meetings before, but none of them warranted a surprise visit from you."

"I'm getting to that." The spider continued. "Apparently, talks have been going on for a long time about the institute's future. Not only are the games themselves losing public interest but the nations that the games sought to settle differences for no longer… have differences to settle. In other words, international conflict is at an all-time low."

"Is that right?" Mordekaiser scoffed, thinking this must have been some sort of joke. Demacia and Noxus existing together without one trying to strangle the other? It was certainly an amusing thought.

"What is the institute's course of action then. Are they going to cut a few champions to make up the financial deficit? Stir up some trouble to keep a need for the matches?"

"Actually, no. They… They…" Elise looked up tentatively at Mordekaiser, who despite having a large part of his face covered by the darkness of his helmet, was very clearly smirking at her. The smirk dropped considerably when Mordekaiser noticed how the spider had become suddenly very interested in the floor.

For a normal champion, the lack of need to schedule their lives around the whims of politicians and spectators would be a blessing, Elise had thought, and all the future meetings and celebratory parties would be a great way to kick back and reminisce with their fellow comrades in battle. A very antisocial, very bloodthirsty Lord of the Shadow Isles, however, might take the news slightly differently.

"They decided to disband the Institute!" She blurted out all out at once, like ripping off a band aid. Elise held her eyes tightly shut as if they would fill with water if she left any gaps, before peeking with her right and observing the knight silently and carefully as he took the news in. He first moved slowly to sit upright, and then used a gauntlet to scratch his chin thoughtfully. He took a breath, as if thinking of saying something, and then paused.

"For how long?" He eventually rasped. Mordekaiser noticed his patience beginning to thin, both at the unfortunate news and at Elise for constantly hesitating and trying to sugar coat her answers. He was not a child, he could handle bad news perfectly well.

"Forever." She replied curtly. Mordekaiser made a humming noise to signify he had registered what she'd said, but otherwise didn't move. She silently wondered how he would handle the news; He would almost definitely be disappointed. Elise had been on his team for numerous fights on the Rift, and there was no mistaking his obvious enjoyment for the competition and the bloodshed. Perhaps he wouldn't be as angry as she'd anticipated though? Elise had initially dreaded coming to see her commander, having been the last to find out meant that Yorick, Hecarim and everyone else had shoved the duty of informant onto her, knowing all too well what Mordekaiser was like when he was angry. However, risking another glance over, he seemed to remain surprisingly calm.

"So, the Rift matches, this apartment, they're all…?" Mordekaiser trailed off, observing Elise's sad nod of the head. "I see." He mumbled, trying to make sense of it all in some way, and not let his obvious disappointment show. Other than his armour, the promise of comfort in the institute's walls and the guarantee that he had more fights to look forward to partaking in was what kept the knight going each day, giving him something in the future to enjoy. He took great pride in his fighting ability, being the most dedicated to combat out of all the champions. Countless real fights and experience in life or death situations couldn't be rivalled no matter how long the other champions spent hitting lifeless practice dummies or reading up on theoretical strategies. On the Rift, he was the king. There, he was someone, There, he was admired. Feared, even better. What good was that now? Where was he to channel all of that wasted effort? What was Mordekaiser to do with his life now?

"B-but don't worry, the institute have agreed to pay all the champions handsomely for their commitment to the cause, so you won't run into any financial trouble." Elise was quick to list off the good points she had rehearsed in her head to soften the blow. "Oh, and, they're hosting a lot of parties – well, meetings they call them, to show solidarity between nations and their former competitors, but really it's just a bunch of public events so the everyday people can see how well the champions of the league are all getting along with each other. There's a bit of paperwork to sign here and an adjudicator's hand to shake there, but for the most part it's just eating expensive food and smiling for the cameras. And we get to go to them, including the initial commemoration banquet in just a few days' time, as some of the lucky representatives for the Shadow Isles!" Her smile faltered immediately as she saw Mordekaiser with the same blank, unreadable expression he'd had when she first mentioned the Institute's downfall. He remained in complete silence for a while like that, until his head then jolted, as if suddenly remembering that Elise was there.

"Right!" He announced suddenly, standing up and startling Elise with his loud voice. He then turned to look directly at her, and Elise felt herself shrink under his intense gaze. "Thank you for coming to tell me. I'd ask you to stay and chat, but I assume we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the coming weeks if what you've told me about these gatherings is anything to go by." He gave a wry smile, albeit a weak one.

"Months actually, they seem to have these meetings planned way far in advance… but, yes, we will!" Elise corrected as she stood up, torn between deciding whether Mordekaiser's change in mood was because he was looking forward to not participating in the matches anymore or if he felt the exact opposite. She didn't fail to notice the way Mordekaiser's fists were clenched tightly, shaking slightly in what she could only imagine to be a fit of bottled up rage. He probably didn't want her around any longer, the spider quickly realised. "See you then!" She gave a cheery wave as she deftly scuttled past the angry knight, before closing the door behind her and walking on her way back to her own room. The conversation had gone surprisingly well, and Mordekaiser didn't seem quite as angry as she'd anticipated, at the least.

Seconds later, she heard a loud, masculine roar, followed by the sound of a metal fist demolishing the Institute's stone walls, and quickened her pace, reflecting that perhaps on second thought, he'd not taken the news as well as she'd hoped after all.

Sona sat on the spotless leather sofa with a cup of tea carefully cradled in her hands, taking in it's sweet aroma. Strangely, it smelt of lemon and freshly cut grass but tasted like neither. It was very peculiar to her why Lux would drink it, but as she was a guest, it would be rude to question her beverage choices. Lux hadn't specified exactly why she wanted the maven to visit her and her brother, only that Garen had some very important news that concerned the two of them. Sona hated the uncertainty of it all and was especially wary of the disgruntled look on Garen's face as he greeted them both.

Quietly, whilst she waited for the Demacian siblings to return, having claimed they had some 'family matters' to discuss, Sona took in the ins and outs of the vanguard's house. Despite having been told there were two bedrooms, it seemed like they did not live together as brother and sister. The place was pristine to a fault; the gleaming white marble of the walls and furniture was harsh to look when the beaming sunlight hit it at the wrong angle. Flowers and other plant-life Sona didn't recognise grew in small, expensive looking pots, and Sona wondered as to whether Garen had the patience to take care of them himself, or if he perhaps hired someone to do the dirty work – He probably had the money, after all. A single Demacian flag was hung proudly on the wall in front of her, it's blue and gold shining decadently, woven with a rich thread.

"Sorry for the wait." Garen's baritone announced, striding purposefully towards the sofa Sona occupied, Lux following shortly behind with a very unimpressed pout on her face. Clearly, whatever family business they had been discussing did not bode well for her. Garen and Lux both still wore their fighting gear, most likely just having come from an Institute match. Sona suddenly felt very out of place in her white floral dress, sandals and sun hat.

"How did the match go?" Sona asked, trying to change the subject, completely oblivious to the face that the question was the very source of Garen's sour mood.

"Well, I did perfectly fine", Lux began, before levelling a smirk at her brother. "It's just a shame Garen fed like a five-star restaurant."

"It's not my fault!" He protested rather heatedly, waving his arms around in a comical manner. "You have no idea what it's like to be on the receiving end of that… that brute, that metal beast of a thing. The enormous mace, his cruel eyes, the spikes everywhere; it's like he was built simply to tear people apart like butter. And you know what else, I think he enjoys it too."

"Well, yeah, everyone likes winning." Lux interrupted, plopping herself down carelessly besides Sona, who released a small gasp as her tea very nearly overflowed.

"No, I mean he enjoys the fighting. It's hard to see his face behind that helmet, but the creep was definitely smiling. The longer we went on, the more jarring and wider it became." Garen soon realised neither Lux nor Sona had an appropriate response to his realisation, promptly changing the subject.

"But anyway, that's not why either of you are here. Everyone else has already been informed of the matter through Jarvan, but I know you were at a concert at the time Sona and therefore couldn't make the small gathering. And someone else", Garen continued, "Merely overslept that morning."

"I didn't oversleep!" Lux was quick to defend herself. "I under slept and was therefore too tired to go. There's a big difference!"

"…"

"Anyway", Her brother continued, apparently refusing to dignify that excuse with a response, "Jarvan has been dragged away to more and more meetings with the institute's high council, as I'm sure you'll have noticed since we hardly see anything of him these days. After numerous discussions, the Institute has agreed to… disband itself. Forever. There will be no more games, no more bloodshed." Both girls opened and closed their mouths a few times, trying to make sense of exactly what that meant.

"You.. You mean to say we're free?" Lux finally asked. "We don't have to fight among ourselves any more?"

Garen nodded.

"We can finally live our own lives again?"

Again, Garen nodded to her. Lux relaxed into her seat, an unreadable expression on her face. "We're free." She said quietly, almost like the mage was testing the words, seeing how they sounded. And then much more excitedly, "We're free! We're free! We are FREE!" Lux beamed, taking Sona by the arms and jumping up and down wildly, ignoring Sona's surprised squeal and Garen's cry of outrage as the cup of tea Sona had been nursing spilt all over his spotless carpet.

"Oh my God. I could use my magic to be… A magician at kids parties! Or a broadway entertainer! Maybe I could even be a professional dancer with my baton! Oh my goodness, I could do anything now!" The mage squealed excitedly.

"They pay us off for the rest of our lives, too, for all our work." Garen grinned broadly. "If you wished it, you could just retire today and spend the rest of your live sunbathing in High Silvermere." His eyes then lit up, as if just realising the genius of his own idea.

"I can finally pursue my music and use it to help people rather than hurt…" Sona murmured to herself, and then she really did smile, from the bottom of her heart. The maven even joined Lux in her bouncing, uncaring of how her hat fell off in the process, or how her blue locks lashed against her face as she did so, because for the first time in- in forever, she was free to live her life as she pleased. It was as if she was Atlas, and the weight of the entire world had suddenly been lifted on her shoulders, and the maven had no idea as to what she would do with her new-found freedom.

"One more thing I should mention", Garen almost had to shout to be heard over Sona's and Lux's screeching, "There are still going to be a lot of public events we need to attend, which mainly just involve getting a little smashed and making small talk with the other champions. The first commemoration banquet is taking place in a few days' time. They're renting out a very expensive venue, I hear."

"I wonder what I should wear?" Lux pondered aloud, before laughing at the inanity of it all. "I'd never dreamed the biggest problem in my life would ever be deciding on a dress!" Sona giggled to herself, while Garen slapped a hand to his face, trying to cover a small smile.

"Perhaps we should celebrate… maybe something to drink?" Sona suggested timidly, observing Lux's thorough nodding and Garen's mild surprise.

"Good idea! I'll just go and get something…" Lux trailed off, trying to sneak by her brother, only to be stopped by a thick forearm nearly whacking her in the face.

"I'm going to need to see some ID, young miss." Garen winked at her.

"Sorry, I forgot. Battles to the death are perfectly okay for someone my age, but God forbid I have a glass of champagne in my brother's home. What was I thinking?"

The three of them spent hours talking late into the night, sipping at glasses of very cheap wine, reminiscing upon the few good times the institute and its champions had brought them, and deciding exactly what it was they were going to do with their new-found freedom.

Deciding what colour dress to wear to the institute's peace-making parties, it seemed, truly was a difficult decision.

Following a peculiar phone call from a rather distressed Elise, detailing her worries concerning the emotional state of a certain iron clad friend, Yorick had decided to round them both up the next evening under the pretence of preparing them for the Institute of War's first gathering, but more importantly, he wanted to check up on the iron man. Yorick respected Mordekaiser's fighting prowess, admired his confidence, and couldn't think of a better candidate for the Lord of the Shadow Isles, but his social skills and handling of emotions could sometimes do with some… correction. However, as the Lord of the Shadow Isles, it was never his place to interfere, only to offer help when he was asked for it, or where it was absolutely required. Ever since his self-appointment to the job some years ago, Yorick had considered it his responsibility to act as a kind of silent guide for him, working in the background. The grave digger now sat watching Mordekaiser silently, noting how his glaring red eyes would dim so often, his head dropping ever so slightly, before they became bright and alert and he shot up like a rocket.

It didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep.

More worryingly still, he hadn't even touched the 'family size' packet of Walkers Yorick had laid out, fully aware that the knight never turned down free food. Elise had taken one, nibbled on it tentatively, and then nearly gagged at the unexpected ketchup flavour. The spider then caught his eye almost immediately, and Yorick was very fortunate to have concealed his grin.

"Let's start, shall we?" Yorick broke the ice, moving the barely touched bowl of crisps off and under the table to make some space. Then from behind his chair, Yorick lifted a bottle of wine up, and unscrewed it with ease, before placing it in front of the master of metal. Both Mordekaiser and Elise stared at it for entirely different reasons. Elise squinted, trying to read the label in some gibberish she didn't understand, working out exactly how expensive the bottle was. Mordekaiser, however, thought-

"What's this rubbish?"

"It's wine." Yorick informed him. "Not the best, I'm afraid, but it'll do it's job in this exercise. What I want you to do is, show me how you would drink this in a formal setting."

"I would drink beer because I'm not an old man." Mordekaiser replied, sneering at the green bottle in front of him. Elise snorted and sent small pieces of crisp flying everywhere, one part narrowly missing Yorick's left eye.

"Yes, well, I'm not impartial to a good brew either, but you'll be dining with 'old men' and will therefore need to learn how to fit in with them without causing too much trouble. Now", Yorick continued, sliding the bottle and a glass towards the iron man, "Show me how you would drink this." Mordekaiser stared blankly at the bottle, then at Yorick, as if to say, 'You think I'm an idiot?'

'We'll find out.' Yorick thought to himself. He had expected Mordekaiser to maybe make some slurping sounds or drink it a little too fast. What he hadn't expected, however, was for the knight to literally grab the bottle and twist it upside down, spilling as much of it as possible into his mouth and making some very large gulping noises, before Elise snatched it away with a panicked frenzy of hands. Mordekaiser then spat what little was left in his mouth out, luckily not landing on the carpet and staining, but unluckily hitting Yorick in the face with a short splash. It took a tremendous amount of self-control for Yorick to ignore it all.

"That stuff tastes like filth, there's no way I'm drinking this." Mordekaiser laughed, oblivious to the death glare of a very angry gravedigger centred on him and rose to his feet. "I'm getting out of here. This was a waste of time anyway-"

"Sit. Down." Yorick commanded, but of course he expected Mordekaiser's eyes to flicker at the challenge.

"What's the point of all this? No one's going to care if I drink differently to them, or any of this dumb stuff." Mordekaiser growled, sneering at the bottle as if it had personally offended him, before directing his look of distain back to Yorick. "And so what if they care? Why should we have to do anything about it? We are from the Shadow Isles, We don't care about reputations or what anyone thinks of us, we have the greatest win rates on the Institute's rift-"

"We have no idea what the future is going to hold." Yorick tried to be firm whilst not rising to the bait and starting a shouting match with the knight. Mordekaiser, to his credit, recognised the change in tone and look somewhat surprised. Yorick was normally very subdued.

"Our success on the rift is of no use to us now. In a real-life all out fight, it is not skill that matters, but numbers, and big nations like Demacia thoroughly overwhelm us in that regard. At the moment, the future is very unclear, and we have no idea what it might hold, or who we might need as our allies. It is therefore of utmost importance that we do not damage our reputation any more than is necessary, and try to make friends, and succeed in making the most of these little parties to strengthen our international relationships. When times change against us, we must adapt, and if that means sitting in this room and practicing formalities like pouring wine from a bottle and drinking it in a respectful manner, then that is what we must do." Mordekaiser stared at him for a while, eyes unmoving as he processed this new information. Eventually, the iron man nodded, retaking his seat and mumbling an incoherent apology, eyes looking down at his feet.

"Yorick and I are in the exact same situation as you are, just a little more informed is all." Elise almost cooed, shuffling closer in support. "Yorick has to deal with all the Institute's staff and negotiate where the profits are allocated, among other things, so fitting in with the crowd is the least we can do. And I, at least, hate it just as much as you do. Well- except for the wine." She giggled, and to her surprise, Mordekaiser gave her a wry smile in response.

"I guess I'll be needing this to get through it all." He chuckled, pouring a very generous glass of the wine and then proceeding to gulp it down like water draining from a sink, making loud slurping noises as he did so. He made a point of looking expectantly at the gravedigger, waiting for due praise on his excellent technique.

Yorick thought to reprimand him for his method, but then decided against it, thinking how he'd probably have to the same to stomach the High Council's goons talks of peace and prosperity whilst simultaneously babysitting his two friends.

Today was going to be one of many long nights.

XDXDXD

Ahri had come to meet the three Demacian's the day after their small party, surprisingly finding space in her busy schedule to do so and travel all the way there from her home in Ionia no less. Apparently, both Lux and Ahri agreed that finding something to wear to the Institute's party really was the biggest problem in their lives right now, and so the fox had considered it her duty to dress them all with her expertise.

'Why am I not coming with you?' Garen had complained shortly before the three of them had left. Ahri had merely snorted at the idea.

'Men's fashion is all the same. There are only so many ways you can style a tux.'

Following that discussion, Ahri took them into the heart of Demacia City, easily guiding them through the bustling crowds, before darting into a department store Sona didn't recognise. The receptionist however, a young woman looking like she was in her early twenties, did recognise Ahri.

"Oh my god, ohmygod, I can't believe it!" She gushed, leaning so far over her desk Sona was very concerned she might well fall over it. "I'm such a big fan, really and truly! Me and my sister went to see your last concert, it was incredible! The fireworks, the dancers, and I can't tell you what was better, your voice or your dance moves! And your outfit too, my goodness, even now you look incredible, but that night you were something else!" She talked a mile a minute, and Lux shared a very confused look with Sona, who couldn't really process what she was saying either. Ahri nodded calmly, however, a slight smile making its way onto her face as she gladly shook the outstretched hand and shook it, all serenity and grace.

"Thank you so much." She smiled sweetly, "It's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Every one of you makes sure that I can keep doing what I love. Music really is everything to me." She then paused and frowned to herself, as if realising something. "I'd love to stay and chat, but me and my friends here are on a tight schedule, so do you know what floor we could find some nice dresses? Special night planned, and all."

"Oh, of course, up on the third floor." The receptionist still looked a little starry eyed as they passed her, Lux's face set in stone with her mouth gaping like she'd just seen a ghost.

"What the heck was that?" The blonde asked once they were out of hearing distance.

"Oh, nothing really, I just get recognised sometimes." The fox waved a hand dismissively as if it happened to everyone, the sweet smile she had earlier now completely erased from her features, schooled into a look of indifference. Lux's raised eyebrow clearly said she disagreed.

"You sure have been keeping yourself busy in between our league matches." Lux remarked.

"We compete in the league too, but I've never had… that." Sona added, struggling to come up with a suitable word to describe the encounter.

"Well, a lot more people listen to music and wear clothes than they enjoy spectating international blood baths. Now, let's look for something for you two, shall we?" Ahri grinned again, beginning to pull Sona by the sleeve up the first flight of stairs.

"I do not mean to sound ungrateful for your help", Sona paused between breaths, Ahri skipping up the steps much faster than she would have liked, "But couldn't we all just wear something we already have? I know it is a formal event and all, but I have been to many parties with Garen and Jarvan and everyone else, and no one ever called my attire into question."

Ahri stopped at the base of the third floor, waiting until Sona had caught up to turn to her, watching as the maven stood catching her breath. Their fellow shoppers started to whisper to each other as they stared in the trio's direction, no doubt having recognised the pop star sensation, but the fox ignored them, instead trailing her eyes to examine Sona up and down.

"You could do that." Ahri sighed, hands reaching out to grasp Sona's and squeezing slightly. "But just think for a second. Everyone there will have come from the same situation as us, having previously dedicated their lives to solving other people's problems, when suddenly, they get all this time to themselves. Not only are we young, but for you, this is your first chance at looking for someone."

"Looking for someone?" Lux asked.

"As in romance." Ahri beamed, hearing Sona gasp in astonishment.

"Think about it. You have all this free time and no one to spend it with, and you'll finally have a chance to meet someone other than these silly Demacian men-"

"Hey! What about my brother?" Lux laughed.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Garen's a nice enough guy." Ahri cooed soothingly, "But hearing him talk about justice all day and watching him do handstands to not so subtly show off is just a huge turn off." Sona glanced nervously at Lux, who surprisingly didn't seem bothered by the comment, nor did she seem bothered by Ahri's suggestion. She couldn't possibly find… that, could she? Sona had already worked very hard to make the friends she had and keep the bond between them strong over time, never mind entertaining the idea of romance. The only knowledge she had on the subject came from the overly cheesy chick flicks Lux had begged her to watch, and Sona strongly questioned their legitimacy and real-world application.

"Anyway", Ahri finally let go of Sona's hands as she walked towards a nearby row of ridiculously vibrant dresses, running her hands over some red fabric, "When trying to attract men, it's very important that you show off your… assets." She chuckled lightly at the horrified look on Sona's face. "Don't worry, I won't pick anything too lewd, I know you're a very honest, pure girl – those are good traits to have! Maybe just something a little out of your comfort zone, though."

Lux had to cover her mouth to stifle the laugh threatening to come out at the sight of Sona's mortified expression, and almost doubled over when Ahri jokingly presented the maven with a piece of flimsy cloth far too small to be considered a dress, or even decent for public wear. After flicking through another rack of clothes, Ahri triumphantly lifted out something plain, blue and to the untrained eye purely bland, but it would perfectly fit Sona's form whilst not being too flashy. Ahri would have to ease her into this, she thought to herself, needing to half drag Sona to the nearby changing rooms before handing her off to the polite staff and walking back to Lux.

"So, what are you going to do now the Institute no longer holds us captive?" Ahri asked the blonde, sliding down the wall they were leaning against to sit on the floor, not caring about the dirt or the strange looks the were getting. She must be used to being watched all the time, Lux realised, and took a seat next to her without a second thought, as a show of solidarity if nothing more.

"Who knows." Lux shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably just retire with how the high council are paying us off. Apparently, it's in the tens of millions, can you believe that? Well, it's not like we weren't getting paid handsomely already, but now we actually have the time to spend it all."

"Oh, I guess the novelty of being rich must be new to you." Ahri smiled fondly, with a hint of nostalgia. "Sitting pretty for now is fine, but you might want to find a hobby or job to keep you from going crazy in the future. Just lazing about not having any responsibilities can get very unfulfilling after a while. Hence why I am entertaining the idea of a relationship for you and Sona, it really makes things easier and more exciting."

"I didn't know you were so mature." Lux murmured in awe.

"I guess my lyrics and the way I dress don't exactly give off that impression." The fox scoffed. Lux giggled in agreement, before her expression morphed into something more serious.

"Do you think Sona is ready for the idea of dating, though? She had always been naïve and a bit of a cinnamon roll for as long as I've known her. Not to mention there are a lot of shady characters attending these parties." Lux added warily. Ahri did not seem so concerned.

"She's an adult, isn't she? Besides, we'll look after her. No doubt Garen will be an overprotective nuisance, too."

"That's true, I suppose there is no better time to try." Lux said more to herself than to Ahri. They both sat in silence for a moment, before their eyes met Sona's nervous ones as she exited the changing rooms, hands shaking behind her back. The colour matched her hair perfectly, and the small folds of the dress swayed elegantly as the maven walked towards her friends.

"H-how do I look?" She stuttered, to which Ahri merely smiled again.

"Good enough to make me jealous. You'll have the party of a lifetime."

A/N: As it's my first story, please do not be afraid to be critical (Or just tell me things you like, too, so I know what traits to keep). My goal is to make the end chapters so much better written people get suspicious and try to pinpoint where I brought in a ghostwriter!