Chapter Text
“Out with it, Jarvan.”
The prince clenched his fists, wishing there was another way to say what he needed to express. He had sundered armies and drove back cities, damn it, why was this so hard!?
It had been months since the Ruination, and the mage uprising was slowly but surely beginning to falter. Shyvana had set him on the right path, her loyalty unwavering, even when she had every right to break her oath. And yet, all she could do in that moment was watch as he crumbled under her gaze. The great heir to the throne of Demacia, who had single handedly dispatched some of the kingdom’s greatest adversaries, was struggling to talk to a woman. One who had been in his service for years, no less.
Her face twisted from confusion, to sympathy, to almost cringing. She would relieve him of his pain if only she could figure out what the hell he was doing. Was he hurt? Sick? Did the healers overdose him on something? Did he accidentally hit himself with Drakebane (again)?
He released a defeated sigh. “I wish I could be more eloquent about this…”
“Dragons are impatient, Jarvan. I would advise you to simply say what you need to. I do not care how.”
“Look, Ana...I want you at my side. Not as an advisor or even as a bodyguard but…” He took her hands, lacing his fingers in between. His grasp was gentle enough to allow her to pull away. He took a breath, expelling every bit of air as he forced out his next words.
“...As my wife, and my queen.”
Shyvana inhaled deeply, her eyes falling to the floor as she pondered the question. Her draconic instinct told her to succumb to her selfish desires, to claim what she had wanted for so long...
But a Demacian does not think of only oneself. Even a fool could see the kingdom wasn’t ready for such a leap. Surely the prince was driven by emotion. He was exhibiting more of that famous Lightshield impulse.
“Jarvan.” She caught his eyes again. Her tone was gentle but firm. “If you go through with this, Demacia will be shaken to the core. There will be unease, history will…”
“I know.”
...He was joking, right?
His hand moved underneath her chin, emboldened to step closer by her lack of objection. Her breaths were slow, and he could swear there was a light tint in her cheeks. “I thought about this for days. When you said there needs to be change, for the good of Demacia’s future, you were right. You are their future, Ana, even if they don’t realize it. And you are my future, if you will have me.”
“But what of…”
“Whatever happens, I will get us through. I swear on my crown, my honor, and my life.”
Shyvana lost count of how many times she had experienced dragonfire. Explosions of fury that literally and figuratively set her body ablaze, filling her with unimaginable power. And yet, it paled in comparison to the heat that consumed her in that moment.
Was this a leap Demacia could take, she questioned? Was it a leap they had to take, in spite of themselves, for them to rise anew? Was this how the fires of rebellion and unrest would begin to suffocate?
The heat burgeoned, and for a moment she wondered if she was transforming. All those nights at war with her own heart, grappling with her longing for this damn fool...
But that damn fool had fought the Mageseekers tooth and nail for her countless times. Calmed her rage countless times. Trusted her in spite of what everyone told him. When she was injured he gave her a private room to heal, and the best care available to him. He took her advice, saw the best in her, talked with her endlessly into the night, and...and…
Fate had forbidden Jarvan from taking a bride. It had led her back to him, and brought them to this empty hallway in the palace, the Great City surrendering to the setting sun.
Shyvana had sacrificed much for her kingdom over the years. This time, she would be selfish.
She would have her prince, and she would lead Demacia to a better future.
“Yes, Jarvan. I would be honored to...”
His lips were on hers before she could finish. The fire burned relentlessly as she pulled him in, hungering for more, yearning for that which had long eluded her. He tasted of the Demacian air in the skies she knew so well, and her of brimstone and flame. He was hers now, and by the gods she would not let him go for anything in this world.
“Do you realize how long I have been waiting for you to do that?” she said when they parted, reclaiming her breath. “Your prince act is truly infuriating.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m sorry it’s taken this long...and I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you.”
“What we have is worth more than any material possession. I always thought that custom was rather silly anyway.”
He held her close. “And that is why I will not take anyone else. You’re the one, Ana, and I’m tired of pretending you’re not.”
“You know we have a lot to do,” she said, peering out the window. The kingdom in her sights would soon be at the palm of her hand. How truly mad, she thought, and oddly beautiful.
“We can get to work later. I want to enjoy this just a little longer,” he replied. “I love you, my queen.”
“And I you, my king.”