pet
After a very pleasant dinner, it was already late at night.
In Draven's mansion on the twentieth floor of the prestigious district, Tamara leaned against the carved stone railing on the spacious outdoor balcony. The night breeze carried the distinctive scent of the Immortal Fortress, a mixture of steel and dust. In the large flowerbed on the balcony grew some kind of flowering plant transplanted from Besilico, said to have been painstakingly cultivated by the Executioner at great expense; unfortunately, it was not in bloom, and only lush green leaves remained.
She lit a slender cigarette, the crimson flame flickering in the cool night.
Light footsteps sounded nearby. Draven also came out, naturally joining the group, and lit the cigarette in his mouth with the light Tamara offered. The two stood side by side, puffing on their cigarettes, gazing at the twinkling lights of the city below.
Tamara exhaled a smoke ring, which was quickly dispersed by the night breeze. She glanced sideways at Draven, who was puffing away at a cloud of smoke beside her.
"What, you don't have to take care of the baby anymore?" she teased.
Draven gestured toward the brightly lit living room, his tone a mix of relief and anticipation: "Look, my brother took over."
Tamara followed his gaze. There in the vast living room sat the imposing Marshal Darius, known for his ruthless and cold-blooded nature, upright on the luxurious sofa, his expression slightly stiff. Alice clearly wanted to cling to him again, trying to climb onto his lap, but Darius once again wielded his "merciless iron hand," either covering her forehead or pressing down on her shoulders, firmly pressing her back into her seat.
After repeating this several times, Alice seemed to finally understand that "Big De" wouldn't allow her to cling to him as intimately as she did to "Little De." She quickly reconsidered and settled for a less intimate arrangement, sitting close to his side, clutching the transforming toy in her arms.
Darius stiffened slightly, but this time, he didn't push her away.
After sitting for a short while, Alice, as if boneless, slumped to the side and leaned softly against Darius's strong arm. Darius was silent for a moment, then withdrew his right hand, which had been pinned down. Instead of pushing her away, he awkwardly placed it on her slender shoulder, pulling her closer to make her more comfortable.
Alice immediately perked up, holding up the toy in her hand and looking up at him, chattering as if asking for help. Darius glanced down at the intricate parts, reached out and took it, his large fingers contrasting sharply with the tiny components. He began to manipulate them, seemingly teaching her how to play.
Tamara watched this scene, silently took a drag of her cigarette, exhaled a smoke ring, and commented, "...Well, Dad number two." Her tone carried an indescribable meaning.
She turned her head and looked at Draven, who had a "my baby is amazing, isn't she?" expression on his face: "With the way you cherish her, treating her like she's made of glass, aren't you afraid someone will steal her away?"
"By whom? My brother??" Draven scoffed, as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world. He glanced back at his brother, who was struggling to deal with children's toys in the living room, and chuckled. "My brother... you, as his adjutant, know his temperament better than anyone. He's disciplined, self-controlled, and pragmatic. All he thinks about is the imperial cause and legionary discipline. He's the complete opposite of me. If Alice were a capable, ambitious woman who could fight alongside him, discuss strategy, and help him stabilize the empire, my brother might give her a second glance and see her as one of his own."
He flicked his cigarette ash, his smile growing even more blatant, his tone tinged with an all-knowing smugness and undisguised self-confidence: "I'm different. I like flashy, frivolous things. Alice is perfect, she perfectly matches my aesthetic, she embodies all my tastes! She's the most suitable person for me in the whole world."
“My brother?” He shook his head, decisively. “He wouldn’t appreciate it, and he wouldn’t even consider it.”
Tamara exhaled a puff of smoke, neither replying nor refuting.
Draven didn't expect her to understand. He turned his head and looked at the layers of lights of the Immortal Fortress outside the balcony, as if he could see further into the distance: "You don't understand. What can you expect from a pet cat? If it catches a mouse occasionally, it's a huge surprise and deserves praise. But if you raise a cow, it has to plow the fields; if you raise a horse, it has to pull the cart; if you raise a dog, it has to guard the house. In a war, horses, cows, and dogs all have to go to the battlefield and play their roles. What about a cat? What can you expect from it?" He chuckled, not knowing who he was laughing at.
"And then?" Tamara's lips curled into a sardonic smile as she asked a blunt and cruel question: "With the country destroyed, the family ruined, and the master killed in battle, how can a pet cat survive? It has no sharp teeth or claws, no hunting skills. In this chaotic world, can it even last a day?"
Draven's fingers, holding the cigarette, froze in mid-air, the smugness on his face slowly fading. He didn't answer immediately, but instead took a deep drag of his cigarette, then slowly exhaled, the smoke blurring his expression. He turned his head, his gaze passing through the glass door and returning to the living room.
Under the warm light, the Noxian Hand, known for his iron-bloodedness, was frowning as he patiently tried to put a small gear back into the toy's belly, while Alice, nestled in his arms, was reaching out and chattering instructions.
Draven watched this scene, the mockery gone from his eyes.
"What do you think I invited my brother over for dinner today?" he asked, his voice much lower and hoarse from the smoke. "To catch up? To show off?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Just to let him come and see me, to get to know me."
He turned back, his gaze sharp as he looked at Tamara, a look Tamara rarely saw in his eyes, the look of a Noxian warrior: "If I'm really gone someday, and I die in some corner of the world," he said casually, as if talking about someone else, "my brother will help me take care of a cat. I can manage. I don't expect him to treat me like royalty, just give me some food. Look, we've already gotten used to each other, and he's... doing quite well."
"My brother always covers for me."
Tamara took a deep drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out in the crystal ashtray on the railing. The night breeze ruffled her hair and carried with it the faint, clear, bell-like laughter of Alice as she watched her toy come to life in the living room.
"You're ruthless."
Draven shrugged smugly, continuing to admire the rare display of humanity in his seemingly omnipotent brother in the living room. He felt that tonight's dinner was truly worth every penny.
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Immortal Fortress North District Kree's Courtyard
Kree was scrubbing the scales of his beloved steed Skaarl by a small fire, grumbling and swearing as he did so as if he were scraping the bottom of a pot. Skaarl grumbled in dissatisfaction.
"Shut up! You ungrateful beast!" Kree slapped Skaar's tough skin with a brush. "If I hadn't snatched you back from that stupid girl who was lying on the ground, you'd still be her portable foot warmer!"
Footsteps approached, and Draven's figure swayed in through the doorway.
"Hey! Isn't this Noxus's most valiant cavalry captain? Having a heart-to-heart talk with your 'good girl' in the middle of the night?" Draven's voice was light, as if he were just out for a stroll.
Kree didn't even turn his head, and snorted irritably, "Get lost! You little brat! Don't you dare bother me!"
Draven wasn't annoyed at all. He went to the fire, kicked away a dark, unidentified object with his toe, found a relatively clean spot to lean against, and took out two exquisite silver flasks from his pocket, tossing one to Kled.
"Try it, 'Kiss of the Sun' just arrived from the southern port, it's potent, much better than your horse piss." He shook the one in his hand, uncorked it, and tilted his head back to take a swig.
Kree took the flask, sniffed it, and his one eye lit up, but he still remained defiant: "Hmph! Trying to bribe me with this stuff?" Despite his words, he took a large gulp, smacked his lips, and said, "...Not bad. Spit it out!"
Draven chuckled, leaned forward slightly, and adopted a candid posture: "Actually, it's nothing serious, I'm just a little curious... how did my Alice end up in Bandle City?" He spoke casually, as if he were just asking about an interesting anecdote.
Kree waved his hand impatiently: "What else could she go? Two bored tribespeople happened to be nearby, so we just picked them up! She's lucky to be alive!"
"I hope she wasn't bullied in Bandle City."
Kree exclaimed, as if his tail had been stepped on: "Bully her? They wouldn't dare! Those little brats treat her like a walking treasure! They treat her like royalty, even more so than you do! When I took her away, good heavens, they acted like they'd stolen the apple of their eye!"
Draven grinned, leaned closer, and lowered his voice, his tone carrying the familiar ease with men discussing intimate topics: "Major Kree, how about we chat? My Alice, she was with you all the way back... how was it?" He winked, "Didn't she cause you too much 'trouble' on the way? Like... sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night and insisting on scratching your fleas?"
Kree was taken aback by his slick tone, then flew into a rage: "Bullshit! I'm sleeping like a log! Who the hell has a head full of dirty thoughts like yours!"
“Just kidding, why are you so angry?” Draven raised his hands in surrender, his smile unchanged, but his tone subtly shifted. “Seriously, brother, this journey… has been tough on you. My darling, her brain is like a blank sheet of paper, she must have given you a lot of trouble. Has any fool ever tried to take advantage of her? Tell me, and I’ll go and chop them up and feed them to Skaarl tomorrow.” His tone was light, as if he were commenting on the beautiful moonlight, but a fleeting glint of coldness in his eyes betrayed his true emotions.
Kree took another swig of his drink, cursing, "Worry? I worry more than you've lost a hair! Trying to take her? Humph! There was a gang of them in the wasteland, but I wiped them out! Drunie's gatekeeper bastards also tried to detain her, but I gagged them with a gun! Damn it, taking care of her is more tiring than leading a regiment of greenhorns!"
Draven's smile faded slightly as he traced the patterns on the flask with his fingers. "Oh? That's exciting? Tell me more, so I can have a laugh too." He tried to remain relaxed, but his slight forward lean betrayed his interest.
"What a load of crap!" Kled began to recount the same thrills and troubles, but Draven no longer pressed him directly, instead using a different method to elicit information.
"Tsk tsk, it has to be you, Mr. Kled, the hero who saved the damsel in distress." Draven promptly offered him a compliment and handed him a fine Noxus cigar. "Here, come on, calm your nerves."
"Did she mention me on the way? Did she keep saying things like 'Djokovic is the best' or 'I like Djokovic the most'?"
Kree scoffed, "Pah! Dream on! She did mention it a few times, saying you promised to buy her sparkly things, to buy the whole ocean... Humph, what a load of nonsense to fool a young girl! It gave me goosebumps!"
Draven's heart felt like it was being soaked in lukewarm water, both sour and tender. He forced a greasy tone: "That's called romance, Kled, you wouldn't understand. The fact that she says that means she still cares about me, okay?"
Kree spat, his single eye filled with disdain: "Romantic my ass! Seriously, aren't you afraid that stupid girl will wake up and be crying for you, unable to find you?"
Upon hearing this, Draven's face instantly broke into a smug and lewd smile. He chuckled softly and rubbed his fingers together in a suggestive manner: "Hehehe... Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. She's good in bed, I couldn't resist and messed with her three times. Her voice is a little hoarse from crying. She's sleeping like a log right now, not even a thunderclap could wake her up."
Kled stared wide-eyed at Draven's smug face, and squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth:
"...You're a fucking beast."
Having obtained the most crucial information, Draven finally felt relieved. His smile returned to its arrogant and irritating form as he shoved the remaining "Kiss of the Sun" into Kled's arms.
"Alright, that's a good deal, brother! I'll remember this favor! I'll save you the best spot when we clear out the arena next time!" He turned to leave, waving his hand behind Kled, his tone returning to its usual nonchalant and slick manner, "I'm off, going back to cuddle my kitten. This place... smells too strong, staying here too long will ruin my image."
Kree spat at his retreating back and said, "Get lost, you show-off! Remember what you owe me!"
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