Hey Folks, before I start, let me know that this was written as a sort of sequel to my first Fanfiction "A Noxian's Thoughts". I don't often play LeBlanc *cough ever cough* but, hey, here's a try at some assumption making!

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The night came. The Matron of the Black Rose was sitting at her usual place within the dark depths of Noxus, the mage-flame lighting up the small room, perfectly. Dressed in her usual attire, she carefully used a spot of sugar to sweeten the tea she had made, a small careful smile on her face. The room itself had 3 entrances. 2 doors that led into the halls, and a secret escape, used to escape if she required a quick getaway. Smiling to herself, Lady Le Blanc watched the doors, her eyes shifting between the two. "Come come, you should be here by now" she whispered, tapping her staff upon the stony floor, the click echoing slightly. Suddenly, a bony, scarred hand gripped her shoulder, firmly, though gentle.

"But I am here, Matron" Came the Generals rough voice, smoothed by amusement. The matron groaned. She hated when he did that.

"How did you do it? The wardrobe door was bolted shut, only allowing me out…"

"Surely the matron enjoys a good game?" Jericho's voice was only soft around her. Be it for reverence for her position of power, or for their …relationship. Le Blanc moaned in tiredness as the General limped to the chair across from her, lowering himself slowly.

"..you snuck in beforehand and waited in the normal part of the wardrobe, didn't you…"

"Worth it to keep you on your toes, Matron." The aged general said, pulling his mask further up his face, coughing slightly. His age was taking its toll on the general…

The young sorceress looked at Swain, disgust painted on her face as she looked at the uniform he wore. A pet of the general…that's what the robes and armor meant to her..but the signet ring on his finger…that spoke of family. Of the past the two had shared. The man was infuriating, and if it was any other person, she would suspect him of treachery…but the two had an understanding of each other. Any plans they would make against each other would easily be ruined by the other…they also shared a special respect for one another. Jericho was using the Rose…but the Rose was also using Swain…they needed each other. Swain wanted power, something all of the rose wanted. Something Emilia knew she had to fight for…they'd burn that bridge when they crossed it. For now, they were allies. They were…partners.

"You're lost in thought, Matron," Jericho stated, snapping Le Blanc out of her silence. "I think that perhaps I am boring you? " For a moment..something seemed out..Then Le Blanc realized.. .

"Your bird?" She asked, looking at the empty perch. Jericho's eyes continued their idle glances.

"Molting; I do not wish to subject her to the humiliation of being out." He said, nonchalantly, lowering his mask a bit, revealing his scarred jaw line, as he carefully sipped for his tea. "Are you complaining? You often state how she tends to upset your nerves." He said these words carefully, testingly, like a young bear cub, walking upon a frozen lake. Emilia rose an eyebrow.

"Aww, did the big bad bird put his birdy away for me?" there as an obvious chuckle in her voice. Jericho calmly continued sipping, not responding to the obvious taunt. Lifting the mask, back he looked up at her with his blood red eyes. Le Blanc remembered when she first looked into those eyes…

She was caught by the Demacians. This was before she was the Matron…she was simple Evaine…young sorceress, and agent of the Black Rose. The Matron sent her here, to sabotage a shipping of Hextech weaponry from Bandle City. She was found out by the some local magician, using some odd item to leech away at her Mana. A Relic that could very well be the bane all mages… Then…a flash of green fire, the sounds of a Carrion's call…and the monstrous form of a large raven, roaring at the Demacian; Just enough to force the girl to switch the draining relic to the Daemon. She had, at the time, found the creature unsettling, even more so when he fell to his knees, his form hidden by midnight black robes, a cane falling to his side. She stopped caring soon, though, releasing her power upon the girl that dared to interrupt her mission. Looking down, she watched the boy slowly look to her…with his calm, collecting, red eyes.

"The Black Rose will bloom" Were his only words, as he forced himself up, and shuffled away, a small bird perched upon his shoulder.

"You're lost in thought again." Jericho chuckled, sipping from his tea once more. Le Blanc jumped, looking to him. "Not plotting, are you?" his words were soft. They did not speak of suspicion…they were cold and emotionless.

"Now, why would I ever plot against you, dearest?" her words were sarcastic, and she knew, for a fact, that he found no amusement in sarcasm. He did not respond though. He, as usual, kept his temper down, his eyes dead on his tea cup. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I suppose we should talk about the plan"

"The plan can wait." Jericho stated, with finality. "Business has taken our lives too much..surely, we can enjoy our time, can we not?" Le Blanc looked at the general, seeing his eyes dead set on her.

"I suppose so." She whispered, bringing her tea up to her lips….it was cold. She looked up…meeting Jericho's gaze…and it was too…