Rated M for sex, alcohol, violence and smut later.

Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends and any associated characters or locations.

They are the property of Riot Games.


The six o'clock sun overlooked the Institute of War from far above Mount Targon, ancestral home of the mighty Rakkor. Beams of light found their way down from the yellow orb in the sky, and their soft glow roused many a sleeping guard and merchant, awakening them for a day's work.

These same beams of light now glared through the stained glass windows of a certain champions' quarters. If one looked through the window the sunlight was entering from, they would view a most peculiar sight.

Piles of blankets, fur, and clothing lay sprawled out irregularly against the floor, some stacked high, other less than an inch tall. A short, brown, tiny table had been shoved to the corner of the room, blocking a door that lay on the wall opposite a large, purple bed. A second door was to the left, parallel to the bed, and an ornate, multicolored rug covered the entire floor.

Two shapes, so close together as to appear almost indistinguishable, huddled in the bed, covered by blankets. When the sunbeams flashed over them, one of them stirred, squealing.

Ahri hadn't gotten too much sleep last night, and her eyes were now bleary and ringed with dark skin. Yawning, she stretched her arms and legs under the sheets, feeling the pleasurable pop of now-relaxed muscles. Looking out the window from her bed, she took a moment to try to determine what time it could be. She gave up and brought one of her tails up to scratch her ears, taking a few experimental sniffs with her sensitive nose.

The room smelled of sweat, expensive wine, and sex. More specifically, the musk of a post-coital male.

I probably have somewhere to be. I better get a move on.

She rolled over, bumping into another shape. Leaning over, Ahri nudged it once.

Jax's purple helmet poked out from under the rug, yawns still coming from the inside of the mask. She giggled and pulled the covers down to his waist, exposing his blue skin and chiseled muscles to the world. Grinning, she traced a finger along his abdominals and brought her hand up to squeeze a nipple. He grunted and pushed her roughly away from him, swinging his feet off the edge of the bed and sitting down. Ahri crawled up and wrapped her arms around his chest, her tails twirling with excitement behind her.

"Morning, champ. How was last night?"

Jax didn't respond, instead forcing himself away from her grasp and standing up, fumbling about, looking for his armor and lamppost. Ahri continued talking to herself.

"Yes, I enjoyed it too. What are you doing today? I'll probably get summoned three or so times, I seem to be popular these days."

She brought a tail up to her face, and chewed on the tip lightly, her hands on her cheeks as she rested on her elbows. Jax, meanwhile, had found his armor and was already almost half-dressed.

"Why don't we…go again?"

Jax kept up his silence, but shoved his arms through his breastplate and motioned her over. She leapt towards him gleefully, but he only shook his head and pointed to the straps on his back.

Guess he wants me to help him secure his armor on.

Ahri reached out and grasped a length of leather in her right hand, and Jax nodded once. Licking her lips, she ran her left hand along the bumps of his spin, feeling him shudder underneath her touch. Looping the hide through the holes in the back of the chest piece, she chatted away. She knew she was annoying him to no end, so she didn't cease talking.

"What about tonight, then? You're too good for just once, you know."

I'm trying to suppress and control my addiction to souls, so I need really, really proficient lovers to keep me satisfied. And he certainly fits the bill.

For the first time, Jax spoke, his deep, raspy baritone cutting through her soft words.

"There's a meeting today. I got an invitation yesterday morning."

"Really?"

That caught her attention. The Higher-up League Summoners were basically therapists to her, so she was keenly interested in any sort of meeting they might call to order. She finished tying together the last strap on his armor, and began massaging his neck, wringing out the knots and mounds of tense muscle.

"I don't recall being invited. What's it about?"

Jax grabbed his lamppost, stepped away from her, and laughed.

"You, apparently."

And then he was gone, her door swinging on its hinges

A meeting? Concerning me? And I wasn't even invited! How rude!

Confused, Ahri threw herself back on her bed and lay on her back, fiddling with the ends of two of her tails.

I wonder…what could it be about?

Suddenly, the most obvious answer came to her, and she sighed, covering her face with her tail in frustration.

Oh, boy. This ought to be good.


"Order! Order!"

Zandal Paxus, a Summoner of the League, banged repeatedly on the podium with his fist, attempting to bring the room to attention. Rows of seats inclined seats formed a half-circle around a speaker's podium and stage at the back of the massive, white amphitheatre. The ceiling was a mass of swirling galaxies, stars, and constellations that reached up infinitely.

The seats were filled with dozens of characters, each engrossed in their own personal disputes, jokes, and conversations. Keeping them silent was always a challenge, as was separating champions who had personal vendettas against one another. Last time a meeting was called, Graves, one of the newer competitors, had to be escorted out of the room after he had attempted to blast the enigmatic Twisted Fate with his massive shotgun.

Zandal sighed. A young man of twenty, he was unable to command respect when he needed it, being younger than most champions of the League.

"I said order! Order!"

The chatter continued. Either the champions were ignoring him, or they couldn't hear him over the multitude of voices.

Suddenly, light flashed through the chamber, blinding everybody briefly. The champions, dazed and confused by the light, slowly ceased their chatter, turning towards the origin of the brightness.

The Solari warrior, Leona, lowered her hands, the light fading from her palms.

"The Summoner requires your attention, friends. Please focus."

Some of them grumbled a little bit, but they settled down.

Zandal nodded gratefully to Leona, and she waved back before sitting down. She was one of his most regular summons, so he wasn't terribly surprised that she had defended him.

Realizing that he hadn't said anything for almost ten seconds, Zandal cleared his throat and began his speaking.

"The Institute has summoned you here today to discuss the matter of…one of our newest champions. You're all familiar with Ahri, the Nine-Tailed Fox, correct?"

A chorus of "ayes" greeted his statement. He closed his eyes. This would make his job all the more easier.

"Secondly, you're all familiar with Renekton's imprisonment, correct?"

Before anyone could answer, the doglike Nasus stood up, his towering, regal form overshadowing the rest of the room. When he spoke, his voice echoed throughout the area, the words reverberating up and down Zandal's form.

"We all possess knowledge of my brother's predicament, mage, and I am already aware how our dispute will end. Hasten to the reason for this gathering. I have little time for pleasantries." He stayed standing, but moved to the side, giving the other champions room to see the speaker.

Zandal gulped, and began again.

"Well, it seems that last week he was released from his confinement. By a champion."

He took a moment to let that sink in. Surprisingly, none of them, besides Nasus, seemed terribly concerned with this news. Leona's brother-in-arms, Pantheon, even spoke up.

"We've been called together to be told that a reptile has escaped from his cage? That I missed my chance to put the lizard down? What a waste of my time!" The Rakkor stood tall, the red feathers on the top of his silver helmet hanging high above the crowd. The spear clutched in his hand banged the ground several times in annoyance.

"Watch your tongue, barbarian. I will be the only one to end my brother's suffering for good."

Nasus growled at the arrogant little human from across the room.

"Everyone, please, calm down!" Zandal cried out, desperate to keep order. He had no idea why the higher-ranked Summoners had assigned him to oversee a champion's meeting on his own. He couldn't keep all the champions' attention by himself. Pantheon glared at Nasus, who coolly returned his gaze, but they otherwise showed no signs of hostility.

"Our vision wards show that he was released just after dark five days ago, at about nine o'clock. Then, he returned to his chamber before seven the next morning."

He took a deep breath.

"Apparently, his liberator was Ahri herself."

The room was silent for a moment.

"Why has she done this? Does she not see the danger he poses towards the weaker denizens of this world?" Despite his centuries of wisdom, experience, and study, Nasus was still baffled at the idiocy this planet's denizens could exhibit.

"Well, um..." Zandal fiddled with the corner of his sleeve, trying to formulate his response.

"…we're not really sure. She just walked through the door of his room, opened it from the inside, and waltzed back out with him. Hours later, they both returned and he willingly went back into his cell. We're not really sure what happened."

Nasus covered his forehead with a paw.

"And you had no defenses established to prevent entrance through magic?"

Zandal looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet.

"Not really. We didn't really expect anyone would be stupid enough to break him out."

Zandal felt a tugging at his robe. Looking down, he was greeted by a large, green-brown rodent staring back up at him, a mangled, rancid claw poking at his clothing. It wore nothing besides a dark green and gold trench coat that dragged along the ground, adorned with gold pins and buttons of many varieties. It yellow eyes roved around wildly, never focusing on something for longer than a moment. It spoke in a rapid whine that seemed to pause, hiccup, and regain its stride on a whim.

"Twitch knows why pretty fox-lady talked to big mean lizard, yes, yes he does." Twitch cut himself off, clattering his claws together and giggling wildly, eyes darting around the room.

Zandal coughed and stepped to the side, putting some distance between himself and the flies buzzing about the anthropomorphic rodent.

"Well then…Twitch…could you tell us?"

"Oh yes, yes! Twitch will tell all the big people what happened." He broke out in another fit of giggling.

"Twitch likes to move in the big blue building after all the big people go to their soft sleepies. Twitch sometimes watches these people. Twitch likes watching the pretty ones." He cackled again, pointing in the direction of Sona and some of the other female champions.

Sona frowned and strung a disapproving chord on her etwahl, completing the movement by crossing her arms over her chest.

"Twitch watched the fox-lady leave her room and talk to the lizard. Twitch followed, but Twitch could not hear what the fox-lady said to the lizard. But Twitch saw the fox-lady take him back to her sleep place, and then Twitch heard moans and groans. Twitch stayed and listened, but could not watch." His ears fell down in disappointment.

Zandal shook his head in shock as the champions broke out in mutters. Had Twitch, the mentally unstable rodent, actually just said that Ahri had released Renekton, a being who very much wanted to slaughter much of the world, just to have sex with him?

Well, it certainly explained why Renekton was so willing to return to his cell. But Zandal had to make sure.

"Twitch…" he began cautiously, slowly.

"Are…are you sure that Ahri released Renekton so she could have…relations with him?"

The mutant rat cocked his head, slightly puzzled.

"Twitch think you use big words to seem smart, smart like Twitch." He sneezed once, scattering diseased mucus onto the podium. It began slowly eating tiny holes through the stage. Wiping his nose with a greasy paw, he nodded rapidly.

"Yes, Twitch knows he is right. Same moany sounds that come from the cold-girl's and the angry man's room, oh yes!"

Ashe gasped, blushed a deep red, and scooted away from her husband. Tryndamere fumbled about with his sword, muttering to himself and ignoring the jeers aimed in his direction.

Nasus glared at Zandal, as if blaming him for Ahri's lack of foresight. As it happened, that's pretty much exactly what Nasus did.

"You mean to tell me that a champion-one who you Summoners are personally training to become human-did not understand the dangers of releasing a psychotic demigod on the world?"

"Um…"True, the Institute was guiding Ahri's steps in the process of becoming human, but they had not had much success. Not many female Summoners had the necessary experience to guide a creature-turned woman, and there were far too many underprepared, young male Summoners who leapt at the idea of spending hours alone with the pretty champion. He was among their ranks, certainly, but Zandal knew his limits, and knew he couldn't handle the champion's boundless energy and reckless sex drive. That's one of the reasons he summoned Karthus, the lich, instead of Ahri when his team required a mage. Karthus wasn't constantly speaking in double entendres; in fact, he never spoke much during matches at all. Thus, Zandal was never taxed with juggling communication with both his allies and his champion when he used Karthus. It allowed him to better focus.

"No?"

Nasus sighed, closing his eyes in frustration.

"You humans are utterly hopeless."

There was an awkward silence, which was shortly thereafter broken by the gravelly-toned Gangplank. The pirate waved his scimitar in Zandal's direction.

"Arrr, the wee doggy's right. Ye aren't teachin' the foxy very well, are ye?" The pirate lowered his sword and stroked his chest hair pensively, mumbling to himself before continuing.

"I met the lass last week and she stole me favorite gold ring, arr. I figured it out this morn, and I don't know how she swiped the booty for herself. Me precious baby never leaves my belt buckle, no she doesn't. Stealin' from pirates ain't smart, and that's what yer suppos' to be teachin' her, arrrg."

Without thinking, Zandal blurted out:

"Um, you do realize the implications of what you just said, right?"

Gangplank's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he cocked the pistol in his hand.

"Don't ye be usin' yer fancy words on me, city boy. If'n ye gots somethin' to tell me, say it so I know what ye mean."

"He means we know you fucked like yordles."

Irelia's blades flitted about her head in annoyance.

"Hey!" Rumble protested, but without his mechanical suit, everyone ignored the tiny yordle.

Gangplank stiffened, then sat down slowly.

"Er…arr…arrr…"

"Um…" Zandal was desperate to get out of the meeting. The Institute needed to know what Ahri had been up to, and how to deal with it.

"This has all been extremely informative. I must report this to my superiors." He nodded around the room.

"Thank you for your time. We hope to see you soon on the Fields of Justice."

He banged the podium, and it suddenly shattered under his fist. Twitch's mucus had eaten away at its framework until it had become unstable to the point of collapse. All that was left of the podium was a pile of splinters on the stage. Zandal stared at the ground for a moment, at a loss for words, and Nasus finished his sentence for him.

"This meeting is adjourned."