All over Lore the leaves were turning gold and carmine, there was the heady smell of candy in the air, and many a healer and seamstress were busy tending to the torn little cloaks and bruised kneecaps of ruckous children. In other words, Mogloween was here.
But the Hero of Lore? Busy looking at the dull black bricks and sickly ivory bones of Shadowfall fortress.
Not the first time he visited these walls, of course, oh no. Him and empress Gravelyn had build up quite the push and pull sort of relationship over the years. It was a unique thing. That is, push a blade into an opponent's chest cavity, and then pull their spirit out to add another rank to the ever-growing army of evil.
He walked by the familiar amenities, making his way to the throneroom. While most parts of Lore were in an everchanging rhythm where almost every other week something happened, here it was dim and dusky day in and day out.
To most, this would probably sound pretty bad. But to the Hero it was comforting, in a way. As much as a downed dracolich's ruined corpse could be called comforting. But whatever else it was or wasn't though, Shadowfall served as a constant for him. Including its empress. A steady, straightforward, headstrong - and awfully stubborn - constant. Her nature was no little part of why the Hero championed her, why he heeded her orders and counsel; and why he in turn felt a surge of satisfaction each time Gravelyn would seek out his counsel.
As usual, the empress received him in the now dilapidated throneroom. As not usual, however, it seemed they were the only ones in the room. No guards, no other attendees. What's more, Gravelyn didn't wait for the Hero on top of her throne, but in the middle of the spacious hall. She didn't look distressed per se, not at first glance. Despite her discipline, the empress wasn't one to hide her emotions. Not from him. Still, this was... Odd.
"Reporting for duty!" the Hero called out as he entered.
The empress' eyes fixed on him, and she turned to properly address her visitor.
"Hero, I have a question for you today."
She minced no words, she never did. But a question? Not an errand, no mighty quest? And what sort of question would warrant this reception?
"Er, well... Good thing I'm wearing my smart hat today" he quipped, trying to break up the tension he wasn't even sure was there "Fire away!"
"...What is the Mogloween spirit?" Gravelyn asked, looking away only very briefly before returning her piercing gaze to the Hero. She didn't seem to be joking.
"Come again?"
"The Mogloween spirit" she insisted "It's something I hear people talk about. But thanks to my secluded upbringing, I haven't yet had the chance to see it for myself."
"Is this something Noxus made you ask me? The Mogloween spirit is not something you can, you know, resurrect and own."
At that, she only rolled her eyes.
"Yes, thank you, Hero. I understand a rhetorical device just fine. And besides, nobody makes me do anything that I don't want to do."
"Oh okay, good because uh... I thought you might think it's an actual spirit. Like a spooky kind of spirit" he explained, but then quickly corrected himself "Wait no, I mean, the Mogloween spirit is the spooky kind, but er..."
Despite his failings, she listened intently. It was her custom. Until the empress' patience ended, she was very attentive. Not in the polite-judgmental manner royalty usually are, but the way a strategist or huntress is, looking for all morsels of information before formulating a response. Be it with words or actions.
So he continued.
"You see... It's that time of the year when people go out, dress up, eat candy and scare each other. And then they eat more candy. And ice cream."
"I am familiar with the tradition. But... Why? Why go out of your way to do all this? Why on this day?"
"Well, you dress up because, I mean... I guess you have two reasons, really. People put effort into making their outfits to show off their skills, to impress someone. Making it scary, it's just... I dunno, an excuse?"
"Ah, so it's a show of dominance" the empress concluded, crossing her gloved arms over her chest "It is only natural that one aims to subdue their foes with frightful provocation."
"What?! No, no, I didn't mean impress as in 'intimidate', it's uh--" but tried as he might, no words came, leaving him to open and close his mouth like a fish out of water "Oh well I don't know. I'm not a bloody poet..."
"No, apparently you're not. ...And the other thing?"
"Huh?"
"You said there are two options. What's the other one?"
"Oh, it's... It's almost the same thing, really. You see, when it's not, uh, trying to impress someone with your skill, it's instead that you're trying to impress them by picking out a costume so that you're, uh, the scariest, or... The cutest, or... The most beautiful..."
His words trailed off, unsure of what he was even trying to say anymore at this point. Surely his rambling couldn't have been a satisfactory answer. After all, he really said nothing, did he? The Mogloween spirit wasn't something one can describe through words alone. You have to be out there, stuffing your face full of candy while tossing pumpkins at some possessed scarecrows in the field. Or sitting at Yulgar's with a mug full of pumpkin-spice mead, looking at all the folks coming and going in their costumes. There was no making it justice in the mute, decrepit halls of Shadowfall.
"Fine."
Despite everything, that one word was her curt answer.
"Fine?"
"Yes, fine. Since you clearly lack the mental faculties to properly explain the Mogloween spirit to me, it'll have to be the second option."
The empress' gaze, already striking, already focused on the Hero, was now resolute. He knew, she wouldn't take no for an answer. Whatever it was she got into her head... It was the kind of thought process that would have her charge a flying castle against a battlefield.
"You, Hero, will accompany me to Mystcroft. And you will assist me finding the costume that will make me the scariest, and the cutest, and the most beautiful" at this point, she allowed herself a self-satisfied smile "It shouldn't be very hard. After all, I already am all three of these things..."
It was the next day as the Hero headed into Mystcroft - agreed without hesitation to be the empress' escort. And though he fretted none then, it was still a relief to see the haughty buildings and alleys and the fields surrounding not overrun with skeletons. Ultimately, it wouldn't have made that much of a difference for this place, but he wasn't sure whether Gravelyn would bring her lackeys.
Not, though, it seemed. Or was she not there altogether?
Unsure of what to expect, the Hero made his way to one of the houses. Toils's residence to be exact, standing tall in the middle of the square. He wasn't all that familiar with the Cauldron Sisters, though he did do each of them a few favors some years back. That was about the extent of their rapport - but either way, the sisters had been happy to him each and every Mogloween past.
Now, as he entered it wasn't one but two redheads that greeted him. Toils and Gravelyn, locked in what seemed to be a heated argument over... Something two complete strangers could be arguing about.
"Er--" he began to say, to try and smooth out whatever was going on. But he didn't get the chance.
"Come" Gravelyn directed him briefly, splitting away from the argument and out the door, taking with herself the clueless Hero.
He could but barely shoot the witch inside an apologetic look, before the door closed with a loud thud. Outside, some of the passerbys shot them a look, but, realizing who it is they are ogling, quickly left to mind their own business. Regardless of the truce between the forces of good and evil, the empress of the Shadowscythe still wasn't welcome in most parts of Lore. Their disdain and fear were understandable, but he pitied them for it. He pitied both sides, truthfully, not that he would ever tell Gravelyn that.
Speaking of, she already seemed as calm as ever. The only tell of her anger was now a raised eyebrow, and the odd lilt in her voice when she spoke next.
"The audacity of some people."
"What happened?"
"I merely asked for a costume, mind you, that little witch in there still refused me. Do her chores for her, she expected me!"
Would have thought she fell through the fake floor like everyone entering Toils's place for the first time does. But it seemed like instead it was a disagreement in... Expectations.
"Oh, uh... I'm not sure how to tell you this, but that's kinda how these things work?"
"'How these things work'? You mean to tell me you're running errands for strangers before they'd tell you the time of day? You? Even after all you've done for them? And so should I, despite who I am?"
"Hey. Some people refuse to talk to me unless I have the right clothes on. Some want me to be their number one fan before they look at me. It's ridiculous! ...But I mean, getting to know you was no walk in the park either."
At that she turned away, as if hurt by his words. Hurt - or embarrassed?
"I... I admit to have had my guard up, but I believe I had good reason at the time. But I never could have imagined... I suppose this only serves further to show how detached I am from this world."
"Well... We're here to work on that, right? I'm glad that you--" 'that you asked', he was about to say, but catching himself just it time - he wanted not to remind her more of her vulnerabilities "...That you gave me this quest."
Hearing his words, the empress turned back to the Hero. Her gaze was stern as ever, even when riddled with a lingering pain he knew little of.
"You need not alter your words for my sake. I feel we both know; you, Hero, are my strongest tie to the world of the living."
At her confession, his heart skipped a beat. Or two, or three. Certainly, the bind she described was clear to see, it made sense, only he never thought of it like that. And even more unfamiliar was the gentleness of her voice, the genuine tone of it. Gravelyn always spoke with authority to everyone around her, and he used to be no exception.
The intensity of battle he could handle. Clashing swords, fireballs and explosions, distorted sounds, screams, the cacophony of it all... But this was something else. A cunningly tender tendril wrapping itself betwixt the folds of his gray matter and likewise the strings of his heart - more so the longer she looked at him with those big, open eyes.
Put it simply, he didn't know what to say. No words that could have given her the succour he wished he could give. But coming across as a fool was something he rather did, than speaking the wrong words and risk hurting her. ...And wasn't it just the luckiest stalk of candycorn they stood right next to?
"Oh hey, look!" he called out, clearing his throat in a totally not awkward manner "Want some?"
It took a moment for Gravelyn to adjust to this shift in the conversation. But she composed herself fast, maybe even reminding herself that she was out in public. Or that she overshared, if the faint blush on her face was any indication.
"What is it?" she asked, sizing up the brightly colored 'grain'.
"It's candycorn! You never had it?"
Even though mere minutes ago he was mindful enough of his words, this time it was only after asking the question that he realized - she just told him about her issues of isolation. No doubt, Sepulchure wouldn't have brought her handfuls of candy on Mogloween. If he even cared to remember that it was happening, or that he had a daughter.
"No, of course not. Such amenities are insufficient for armies, and need I not remind you, I am the head of one of the largest armies on Lore."
Pained as it did the Hero to hear it, the empress' voice was back to the measured, sort of aloof one he learned to know.
"...But your soldiers are undead. They don't need to eat."
"No, they don't. But I treat myself only military rations for solidarity" at this point she paused, once again choosing to confide in the Hero "My servants and henchmen, they don't always align with my rule. I need them to be loyal to me. And of loyalty one only gets as much as he or she gives."
Unfortunately, he knew that she spoke the truth. The forces of evil were splintered as is, and not alien to schemes and backstabbing. The Shadowscythe faction was no different. And her rule was admittedly much shorter yet than that of her predecessor, and wrought in turmoil. Her attempts at winning over the unbeating hearts of her subjects seemed so sincere - albeit cold in the raw truth that a general needed soldiers.
"I, uh... I see. Well, I won't tell 'em if you won't."
He smiled at her, audaciously offering her this mischief. And she smiled back, looking both amused and thankful - probably less so for the candy than this shared moment.
"Very well, I won't tell an unliving soul."
With that, she took the candy, inspecting it first in her armored hand, turning it over before giving it a kitten lick and probing bite. Her expression didn't change much, so he couldn't tell whether she enjoyed the treat. At least she didn't throw it away, so that was something.
Turning from Toils's door as she chewed through the handful of candycorn, the empress and her champion started down the path to Mystcroft proper, towards the winding streets filled with various storefronts. It was only then she spoke up again, with a sideways glance at the Hero.
"By the way... You're not helping anyone else pick out their costumes, are you?"
"Huh? Oh no, it's only you. Why?"
"It is... My royal prerogative to withhold that information."
As they scaled the streets, scores of other visitors, mixed in with the regular residents of Mystcroft walked by them. Naturally, they were given plenty of space. And while he got mostly adoring, curious looks, the eyes that turned her way all quickly turned away too. Thanks to that though, they managed to keep their conversation mostly to themselves.
"This was the fifth store we gone to, and you keep saying no to everything" the Hero complained, not very hero-like "Give me something to work with here! I mean... What was wrong with that Death costume? I'm sure you could have pulled it off."
"Put me in a robe and give a scythe in my hand and call it a day? Surely you don't mean to imply that it's the extent of my theatrical skills. Nor that you think me clad in heavy cloth would make me more beautiful."
Her gaze shouted danger. True, the empress was pragmatic in most matters, but she couldn't deny her vanity.
"Er, no, no... Of course not!" he hastily corrected himself "Okay, so... Then why didn't you like the witchy one back in that other shop?"
"I am a doomknight, Hero. I shall not be seen imitating a less powerful form."
"...You're impossible."
She didn't entertain him with an answer, continuing down the street with her head held high.
"Who, uh, exactly do you want to impress with your costume?" he tried, in another angle. Maybe knowing her preference better would give him a fighting chance.
At that, again, her response was merely a raised eyebrow and a brief word.
"You. Of course."
"M-Me?!"
Not quite stopping in his tracks, but close to, the Hero stumbled over his feet, causing Gravelyn to stop and turn as well. The two stood face-to-face, silent for a moment - after which her answer came, calm and collected as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Us two are the greatest in Lore. Some of the finest warriors, leaders, of the highest ambition and for good reason, and... Of all two people in the multitude of realms I came to know, we best fit one another. So it would be a step down to choose anyone else. And I obviously cannot plan to impress myself. So that leaves you."
That 'leaves' him. Odd wording, he thought, comparing him to a fallback option after yet another admission of how highly she thought of him. Quite the opposite, he suddenly felt himself so very small. Not only failing at something so trivial as helping someone find an outfit for Mogloween, but that he couldn't be half as supportive as she was. Gravelyn spoke as if her compliments were mere fact, but there was no way she didn't know what effects her words would have.
"I... I agree" he said in the end, elbowing her in the side - to which she was not amused, but that didn't stop him from finishing the thought "We make a pretty good duo."
To be honest, he was surprised the empress let him touch her so casually. But it was a pleasant surprise, least of all for the tiny smile that accompanied her very emphasized eye roll this time. And here he thought the costume would be for someone else in Shadowfall, or to wow her half-sister maybe. Their rivalry was well known, though they both liked to act as if it was respectively one-sided.
Falling into step again, he turned his focus back on the task at hand.
"Okay, so... Let's try to find something you like. You don't need to worry about impressing me, but... You're right, we shouldn't hide your majesty under a cloak, your majesty."
"Hero, I will kick in your throat if you follow that up by calling this a royal disrobe-a-thon..."
Over the next howevermany hours, the duo indulged in a Mogloween shopping spree. Or rather, they attempted it. Because while many of his gold coins were spent on candy, all the various kinds, they didn't succeed at finding any costume that would have suited her fancy. Not even some jewels, or something as simple as a hat. Her reasons were sound. For a while... But by the end it would make the poor Hero groan in agony when her only excuse would be that 'the fabric diffused light incorrectly' or that 'it made her look off' or that 'orange isn't evil enough'.
And so... Empty handed, they retreated to Shadowfall fortress; mission failed. Sure, he couldn't very well blame himself - nor did he want to blame anyone, really - he still felt like he could have done better. He could have done more for Gravelyn. Her first Mogloween, and... This was just no good. Or no proper evil, as it were. No wonder that she rather kept silent as she led him into the bowels of the castle, to her own quarters. It was there she requested the remaining candy to be stored, out of sight of her subjects.
"Er, so..." he began to say as she dropped the sack of sweets on the robust table in the middle of the room.
He wasn't even sure where he was going with that sentence. Apologize? Bid her farewell? Make up a pun to lighten the mood?
...Well, neither really happened, as his attention was drawn to his surroundings instead. He realized, many parts of Shadowfall he might have seen, never did he step foot in the empress' own bedroom. Not even a single toe. Not once did he see it as more than a glimpse through an askew balcony door.
To be quite honest, the room wasn't much different than the rest of the fortress. Dull and dark and made with efficiency in mind. The solid walls, bar any windows or decorations, looked like they could withstand a siege. It was a lot unlike Swordhaven, or Oaklore, or any other royal stronghold he's been to. Even trolls decorated their halls more... It was only the skulls and gargoyles looking down from atop the pillars with their cold dispassion that broke the monotonity of the gray walls. Suddenly, the Hero just got how Gravelyn could have been so alien to the idea of the Mogloween spirit. To have spent so many years in here, in absolute isolation, surrounded by only their undead servants and soldiers...
Only three things in the room that served as any article of comfort.
First, it was the plush carpet that stretched from wall-to-wall over the aged floorboards. It was as gray as everything else, still it somehow felt out of place.
Second was a large brick fireplace - and with a mantelpiece that was filled with various items of memorabilia. Pictures on taut paper, some of people the Hero recognized - such as Robina on her coronation day -, but not all of them. Some he knew only from other paintings he's seen, like of a woman who might just have been young Lynaria. An odd selection of images, he thought. Perhaps what he thought was Gravelyn being honest about her feelings wasn't, well, the entire truth.
Either way, the third thing in the room that caught his attention was a big, king sized bed clad in baldachin that--
"Very well, Hero. I understand perfectly" the empress' voice rang through the room. Self-assured as she ever sounded, albeit now with a sense of plasticity to it, he felt, having seen the pictures she treasured.
"Huh? You... Do?"
His confusion was clearly audible in his voice, totally fazed out of the conversation until now. Even though he was the one trying to initiate it when they arrived.
"Yes" she continued, moving to stand beside the bed - and although she was addressing her guest, she faced away from him as she spoke "...There's no one adequate costume you wish to see me in, is my understanding. Therefore, you wish to see me in... Nothing."
It took longer than he would have admitted, until he realized the meaning of her words.
"I--"
Were he not frozen up worse than when under a petrification curse, surely he would have stumbled backwards, perhaps even his knees would have given in. His blood didn't know whether to run cold or heat up. Both fight and flight instincts kicked in all at once, but... At the same time entwined with something more, a sense of anticipation he felt always in Gravelyn's presence. It wasn't something he ever would have mentioned to her, it wasn't even something he thought consciously about. It was more than a feeling than anything. Before now, at least.
"It is a wise decision..." she continued, raising her arms in front of herself to do... Something. Something he couldn't very well see - and as if once again oblivious to the effect of her words "...And it pleases me greatly that you cannot think of anything scarier, and cuter, and more beautiful than me."
Emphasizing her statement, her cloak, dancing down the ridges of her armor and curves of her body, fell to the floor. It was only then that she turned around - and though now she was finally looking at him, she did not stop.
"After all, I did say that I am all of those things" she reminded him, again with that lopsided smile.
Then... With a decisive movement of her hand, she undid another of the leather straps of her blood red armor. This time it was her metal chestpiece, interwoven with the fabric below, that, with a dull thud hit the lush carpet.
Underneath she was, much the way she promised, bare. Proudly displaying her bosom to her Hero.
His thoughts, nigh flatlining, at the moment were concerned with only a singular focus... Heh - he thought - boobies.
She had two of them. Round, full, but seemingly with the right amount of perkiness.
The left one pointed to the side a bit.
...Still, he could not muster a word. But this didn't faze her, not at all, as she brazenly continued to first take off her heavy gloves, her shoulderguards, and then even put her tiara aside. Leaving on only her thigh-high boots, and for modesty's sake, her bottoms - with the long piece of cloth attached, that with every other step she took danced across her legs.
It was only then he noticed, that the empress was actually closing in on him. Boobily, she tittied across the room.
She stood, then, an arm's length from him. She... Stood. Contrasting the bravado of the show she seemed to be putting on, this sudden hesitance surprised him. Through the haze put upon him by her silky skin and bouncy fun bits, he caught a glimpse of the mantelpiece over her shoulder. And then it all clicked.
The empress was, by all metrics, desperate for companionship. Sure, he didn't want to refuse her. He wondered if he'd truly have the moral fiber to do so... But if they continued going down this road, he had a feeling it could end only in disaster. And still, hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. But what then? Telling her to stop, or asking something cliché like if this is truly what she wanted - he knew, she'd double down to hide her vulnerable side.
"I-- You know, uh..." he stammered his way into the sentence "You-- You really are beautiful but... I don't think I did good enough on our date to earn this kind of reward."
All in all, he was proud of his wording. There was a chance she could see right through this flimsy veil, but at least he could make it about his failings, not any she'd perceive in herself.
"Don't" she said, calm, as her eyes searched his face - as if reading his thoughts right off it.
"...Don't?"
"Don't. I can tell what you're thinking, Hero. And rest assured, I'm no damsel in distress."
To be honest, he'd argue that point. But then again... She stood as proud as ever, even in her current state. Her posture, royal; a beautifully arching back; chin raised just slightly, the same way she'd address someone in her throneroom. She didn't seem embarrassed of her nakedness, treating it almost like the most natural state of affairs.
"You are thinking that I'm doing this to win your favor" she explained, without even a lace of shame in her voice. Stating facts, like usual "But you have it wrong - remember, nobody makes me do something that I don't want to do. I'm not asking you to take me. I'm taking you for mine."
No words. No words he could produce to communicate what he felt in that moment - not in any language. Amazement; at the strength of her will. Attraction; both to her body and mind, to her possessive nature. And... Arousal; as obvious.
A heartbeat passed, Gravelyn letting the weight of her words sink in. But then she stepped forward, bringing her palm to his cheek. Normally, he'd imagine a woman to be looking at him longingly, lovingly, admiring. And there may have been hints of those things in her gaze, but above all, she looked demanding. If nothing else, her stare communicated one thing perfectly well: you better not fuck this up, my Hero.
/ And then they had sex. /