A/N: Long chapter. Not completely happy with it, but I just wanna get the burden of it off my shoulders. It's like, 21 pages written out, you know?

I think I've said it before, that my plots are basically stages to put these folks on the showcase characterization. Yea, I'm not great with plot, but I do have an idea as to where this is going, don't worry. Or do worry, because I have an idea where this is going. Either way.

Also, I'm going to be away for the next two weeks, and might not have time to write/respond to reviews.

Refract

Lux: Sometimes a lot of things change.

Lux yawned, nearly tripping over her own feet as she made her way from the servants' quarters to the kitchens. Fortunately, she managed to catch herself after some moments of undignified flailing.

"You alright, Lucy?" Adrian asked, briefly pausing in his tracks.

"Just tired," she mumbled. The only reason she had gotten to sleep last night – earlier this morning, actually – was that she was afraid of what she might give away if she was even more sleep-deprived. Yesterday had been bad enough, she didn't need to make it worse.

Bad enough. Heh. It had been a disaster, only mitigated by the fact that Talon had also been tired enough to not catch on to all her slips. She hadn't even gotten a clue as to where he might have been keeping her baton, either.

"Right, then," said Adrian, who had started walking again. "You know Cassiopeia isn't going to be any easier to deal with if you're exhausted."

"Yes," Lux sighed, "I know."

"Right. Actually, I never told you where her room is, did I? It's –"

"I know where it is."

His eyebrows rose.

"Second floor, right wing. Right?"

"Um, yes," Adrian said, with audible surprise. "How'd you know?"

"I asked."

"Who'd you ask?"

"Talon," she muttered, under her breath.

"Wait, what?" he said. "Can you repeat that, because I could've sworn you just said –"

"I did." Lux brought a hand up to massage her temples, in an attempt to stave off a headache.

"Why –"

"Not now, please," she said, holding up a hand. "All my mental resources are being taken up just trying to stay awake. Ask me later, if you have to."

Whatever Adrian's response might have been, it was interrupted by their arrival to the kitchens – which was heralded by a plump, middle-aged woman with her hair in a bun rushing out with a full tray. The woman thrust the tray – which was laden with breakfast foods – into Lux's arms, saying, "That goes to Miss Cassiopeia," then ran back into the kitchens, looking vaguely harried.

Lux blinked.

"Well, that happened," Adrian said.

She shook her head, sighing.

"I don't know what that was about," he continued. "Cath – her real name's Catherine, but no one calls her that – isn't usually that… you know."

"Impatient?" Lux suggested, repositioning the tray so it was easier to hold. There was a lot of food on it, and it all looked appetizing, especially considering her own breakfast had been an apple and two slices of bread, eaten hurriedly.

(hunger was new to her she'd always had enough but now her stomach was turning in on itself and it hurt so much but did she want to go back on what she said? no she didn't but disobedience was)

Adrian made a fluttering gesture with his hand. "No, she is that," he said, "but not… oh, never mind."

"Right," said Lux. "I'll go bring this upstairs, I suppose." She fumbled with the tray for a few moments more, then gave up and held it with both arms. She'd never been good at balancing, anyway.

"Bring – oh, right, of course," Adrian said. "Um, do you want me to come with you? Or something?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No thank you, I think I'll be fine walking up a flight of stairs," she said dryly.

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

The doors were half open, and voices were filtering through from inside. Two voices, Lux noted, one lower than the other, but both female. They weren't speaking especially loudly, so she could only make out the occasional word. Shame.

Regardless, it would be rude to enter when this Cassiopeia clearly had a visitor.

She sighed, looking down at the tray she was still carrying. It was annoyingly heavy. Who needed this many utensils to eat breakfast?

The silverware was polished to such a degree that the surfaces were basically mirrors. Lux smiled at her reflection. Her reflection smiled back. That dark-haired, dark-eyed girl was beginning to become familiar, just like all of the other faces she had worn, which was good and bad. Some days, she found it difficult to recall her true appearance.

(faces taken on and discarded when their use was done, discarded like so much trash, and the people who were those faces discarded too until she didn't how much was left of her)

A sudden noise from inside Cassiopeia's room – a thump like flesh hitting something solid – tore Lux out of her thoughts. She stepped back from the doors – and not a moment too soon, as they flew open violently and a woman with striking red hair and a scar over one eye stormed out, followed by a flurry of loose papers. This was Katarina Du Couteau, she realized, mentally matching the face to a long-ago seen profile. The eldest daughter of the family, and an important symbol for Noxus. She'd come back from Kalamanda? What did that mean?

"So damned stubborn," Katarina was saying, under her breath. "Where is Talon, anyway? I swear, if he's hiding from me again…"

Actually, she'd not seen Talon come out from the basement yesterday, and she'd waited for a while. Most likely, he'd fallen asleep there, but should she –

Before her better sense could take over, Lux was stepping into the middle of the hallway, in Katarina's path. The woman's eyes – bright, bright green – snapped to her, and she swallowed nervously.

"What is it?" Katarina growled, those green eyes narrowing.

Lux took a deep breath, then said, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I – were you looking for Talon?"

"Depends," said Katarina. "Why do you want to know?"

"He's probably in the basement," she said quickly, almost tripping over her words." Might still be asleep, considering last night… um, yes. He's in the basement."

Katarina's expression became unreadable, but she nodded and stalked off. It was rather dramatic – actually, it reminded her of the way Talon walked. Which was odd, considering the general consensus, insomuch as there was one, was that they weren't related by blood. Or maybe not so odd, taking into account the whole nature versus nurture argument some scholars loved to harp on about – if it was a learned habit…

Lux shook her head. Now was not the time. She shifted her grip on the breakfast tray again, steeled her nerves, and walked into Cassiopeia Du Couteau's room, feeling vaguely like she was entering the lair of some monster.

No lights were on, so she could only see the room by what sunlight filtered through the windows – which were covered by curtains, but the curtains were torn so ragged that they didn't hardly do their job – and the slight illumination from the hallway. A quick survey of her surroundings showed her they weren't as – posh? – as might be expected of a noble of as high a standing as the owner of this room. All the furnishings were damaged, with deep gouges in solid surfaces and tears in anything soft.

Her observations were cut short, as the office chair in front of the desk swiveled around to reveal a woman who could only be Cassiopeia.

Lux flinched.

It wasn't because of the glare levelled at her, though that was rather intimidating, coming from glowing, yellow, slit-pupiled eyes. Nor was it due to the ugly sneer that bared sharp fangs and transformed the woman's features into something terrifying – at least, it mostly wasn't because of that.

No – it was because, in place of human legs, Cassiopeia Du Couteau had a long, sinuous tail from her waist down, like that of a snake.

Oh, Lux thought, reeling. That was why she hadn't been seen in public since – that was what Adrian had meant by 'condition'. Well, then.

Upon seeing Lux standing there, Cassiopeia's expression shifted to one of vague disappointment, as opposed to the unmitigated fury that had been present a moment before. She leaned back in her chair, muttering something that sounded like, "More fodder. Wonderful."

Lux forced her body to unfreeze. Her earlier impression about this being a monster's lair now seemed – no, she really couldn't label this woman a monster based on something superficial like appearance. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation – probably involving magic, these things always involved magic – and Cassiopeia likely dealt with too many snap judgements already.

(foolish little girl don't you know? the worst monsters are the ones that look human)

But Cassiopeia had looked away, now, and seemed to be steadfastly ignoring her. Lux slowly made her way forward, indecision making her steps hesitant. She wasn't acknowledged, even when she reached the woman's side.

She resisted the urge to cough pointedly – that would hardly help matters – and instead waited quietly. Upon the passing of two minutes or so, both her patience and her arm strength wore out.

"I've brought you your breakfast, ma'am," she said, holding out the tray.

Cassiopeia made a vague huffing noise that might have been recognition.

After another awkward moment, Lux asked, "Should I just leave it here, then? Would that be alright?"

Cassiopeia finally deigned to look at the faux-maid again, eyes narrowed to slits. "It doesn't matter," she hissed. "Throw it out the window, for all I care."

Lux frowned. "I feel that would be going against the spirit of the order to bring you food."

"Of course," Cassiopeia muttered. "And we can't have that, hm? Little drone, buzzing about to orders without a thought passing through your empty head."

Drone –

Empty –

Lux saw red.

Later, upon asking herself why that particular insult had set her off so badly, she wouldn't be able to come up with an answer.

(you do not need to think you do not need to question, you simply need to serve, demacia know best and we are demacia)

But at the moment, all rational thought was consumed by a tidal wave of rage.

She slowly set down the breakfast tray on Cassiopeia's desk, on top of a tall stack of paper, then smiled sweetly, clasping her hands in front of her. "Did you know, ma'am," she said brightly, "that self-destructive tendencies and lashing out at others can be signs of certain mental disorders? Have you considered seeing a doctor?"

Cassiopeia was frozen for several long seconds, before her face contorted into a terrifying rictus of rage. "Do you realize who you're speaking to, girl?" she snarled.

The little voice that should've been in the back of her head telling Lux to stop, no, what are you doing – it was gone, or perhaps just drowned out by the cacophony of fury and contempt for this spoiled, entitled excuse for a woman. What did she know, with her sheltered upbringing, with her fine clothes and house full of secants and her every whim catered to?

"I believe I'm speaking to a sheltered, spoiled noble with no idea of what kinds of hardships anyone else has to face to, in some cases, simply survive," Lux chirped. Her sunny smile hadn't faded.

"No idea –" Cassiopeia choked out. She physically flailed for a moment, knocking some of the myriad papers lying around out of their piles. "No idea?" she repeated softly, rising from her chair. "How can you – do you see this? Do you see me? Hm?" She gestured at herself. "I know hardship, little girl."

"And what terrible hardship it must be," said Lux. "Vanity confining you to an enormous mansion full of servants, with people who care about you. Why, you must be suffering so much more than all those people alone out there – without family or friends or guarantee of a tomorrow."

"You – I only have those things because nobody knows!" Cassiopeia exclaimed. "Do you think I confine myself here because of simple vanity? Hm? The moment anyone sees – sees this, they recoil and call me monster!" Her tail slapped the floor. "The moment I step outside, they'll want to lynch me!"

"If they do, they're hardly the sort of people you should care about anyway." Now that the initial rush of rage was wearing off – it wasn't gone, just less intense – Lux was beginning to regret her words. While Cassiopeia did have it better than some, that didn't mean her… situation should be so quickly dismissed.

(you have nothing to complain about girl you have food and water and a place to sleep stop crying do you know how much worse – do you know –)

Cassiopeia sneered, though her heart didn't seem to be in it. "You say that, as if anyone could look at me and honestly care about a beast."

She blinked. What – that wasn't – this woman actually did have a case of depression, didn't she.

"That's – no," Lux said. "I'm sure your sister cares about you. And Talon does too, obviously."

"He doesn't," Cassiopeia muttered.

"He was worried about you when I spoke to him."

"He…" Cassiopeia trailed off. "That's not… hm." She sat down again and looked away, expression pensive.

Lux waited for her to say something else, but all of the woman's anger seemed to have drained away. A silence again fell over the dark room, but it was one far less tense than the one that had reigned when she'd first entered.

Actually, it would probably be best if she left. There was no reason to stay, she'd already done what she was here to –

Wait.

What she was here to do –

Lux blanched. Without rage clouding her thoughts, she suddenly became acutely aware of just how stupid she'd acted. What had she been thinking? Lay low, she silently mocked herself, don't make waves. Angering Cassiopeia Du Couteau was not – why had she gotten angry so easily, anyway? Why had Cassiopeia's words hit her so hard?

(oh but don't pretend you don't know why, luxanna, with your pretty plastic smiles and your shining love for demacia. how easy it is to hurt the scared little girl under the bright shell)

Cassiopeia was still remaining silent, but she picked up the now-cold cup of tea on the tray lying on her desk and took a sip. With that, Lux decided it was a good time to make herself scarce, before she managed to make things even worse. She turned and exited the room, at a pace barely slow enough to not be termed running.

Lux's first instinct was to go back to the servant's quarters and hide in her bed and pretend she hadn't nearly ruined everything – actually, depending on how Cassiopeia held grudges, it might not be 'nearly' – but she stamped down on it through ease borne of practice. Besides, if she did that, someone would likely find her and ask uncomfortable questions.

So she instead wandered the thankfully empty halls of the mansion, half searching for a storage room or something that might be Talon's room, and half still berating herself. It did no good, she knew that, it was done and she knew what she'd done wrong and dwelling did no good –

(if she let herself think let herself remember she would lose her grip on herself and let the smile slip, and that was unacceptable)

– but it wasn't easy to stop.

She was rifling through one of the seemingly infinite offices in the house, opening and closing desk drawers and searching shelves, when the room became bathed in purple light. Eyes wide, Lux quickly shut the door before turning to its source – a luminescent spiral of violet swirling in a column.

It was a teleport spell. She recognized it from long nights spent working on it, trying to transport larger and larger objects ever greater distances. They hoped to be able to use it on people one day – though in her opinion, that day was hardly coming any time soon – but that still left the question of what was being sent to her. What could be so important that it had to be sent by experimental, costly spell, especially with the danger it posed to her position.

Though, Lux reminded herself, Intelligence didn't know what she was doing. This was one of the few times where their questionable actions were out of ignorance rather than sheer incompetence.

Her thoughts were cut off as the teleport resolved itself with little fanfare, the light dying away as if it had never been. Rather underwhelmingly for such a long channel time, a small, plain envelope with no markings dropped out of the air.

Lux took it before it hit the ground. Nothing suggested it was for her, of course, but who else would be the recipient of a message delivered via experimental Demacian teleport spell? Certainly not the Du Couteaus… she hoped.

With another cautious glance toward the door – no, still close, no one there – she dragged a finger under the flap of the envelope, then pulled out its contents.

The stationary was the kind commonly used by Intelligence. Definitely for her, then. Lux unfolded the paper. The handwriting was neat enough, but blocky and degenerating into a scrawl at points, as if someone with bad penmanship had made their best effort at writing neatly. She vaguely recognized it, but it wasn't the hand of anyone she'd seen lately.

Sis, it was addressed.

Oh. Well, then. Well.

Focus, Lux thought. Focus now, react later.

It's been a while, hasn't it? You have been away for a long time, and our friends miss you. We want to know when you will be coming back, and we hope it will be soon.

I have it on good authority that the last attempt to say hello to you didn't go well. If you're still there, a friend would like to meet you at the same place in two days.

Things back home are alright, but people are a little tense, naturally. Actually, one of my old childhood friends finally returned from his journey recently. He has changed a lot. He is much more serious, and shows greater interest in his family's trade.

More has happened, but I cannot fit everything into one letter. Our friend can tell you more.

We all hope this reaches you well, and that you come home soon. You are missed.

Sincerely,

Your brother

"Garen," Lux whispered, closing her eyes. Naturally, the first she heard from her brother in years would be an impersonal letter that Intelligence probably coached him to write. And that only because they were awful at this sort of thing – anything they wrote themselves would turn out hilariously suspicious.

She spared a moment to be thankful for that. She wouldn't have to burn the letter this time, which was good, because everything else aside it was still from Garen –

Focus. What did it mean?

"Our friends" – that was obviously Demacia. Demacia wanted her back? Obviously they did, and soon – because of the war, of course.

They were also sending someone to meet her again at the same warehouse, two days from now. That was… good and bad, because it meant she was still considered a valuable asset, but it also meant she likely wouldn't be able to get her baton back before returning to Demacia. Also, that warehouse was hardly a safe meeting spot anymore, but she couldn't do much about that.

'My old childhood friend' – that one took a moment, but in the end, coming from Garen, it could only mean one person. Jarvan Lightshield IV, the prince. He'd returned to Demacia at last, then, though much changed, it seemed. Rather good timing, to come back on the eve of war – or perhaps that was why he was back. Lux had never known Jarvan all that well.

And, obviously, she'd have to ask whoever they were sending about the more sensitive matters, the things that couldn't be safely discussed via letter. She sighed.

After all this time, she mused, they wanted her back now. Of course she wanted to go home – she'd wanted to go home for years now –

(the horrible realization that no, she couldn't go back, they'd just send someone to godforsaken Noxus to take her reports, and wasn't that so convenient wouldn't it save so much time)

– but the timing was…

It didn't matter. It didn't. If they really, truly wanted her back, it was her duty to drop everything and go. But perhaps, she could finagle some more time.

Lux folded up the letter and put it in her skirt pocket. If her sense of time was right, it was nearly noon, and that meant she had to bring Cassiopeia lunch soon. Wonderful. Well, she could at least endeavor to not dig herself an even deeper grave.

As it turned out, lunch was delivered with far less fanfare than breakfast – Cassiopeia didn't ignore her, exactly, but she neither said much nor made reference to their earlier… argument. It meant Lux couldn't accurately judge what she was thinking, but it was, all in all, a sort of blessing.

Lux wandered and searched to fill the afternoon hours, and it struck her again how empty the mansion was. It was convenient, yes, but it didn't seem… right. The few servants she saw looked harried, hurrying some place or another, and she saw none of the three Du Couteaus. Though, it wasn't really her problem what they were doing.

Nothing much happened until evening, upon which she had to deliver dinner to Cassiopeia.

Adrian waved at her as she left the kitchens, and she returned a wan smile.

Lux passed Talon, along her way. She quickly got out of his path, hoping to pass unnoticed, which half worked – he spared her a long glance, but otherwise didn't do anything.

Cassiopeia's door was open, but she knocked twice on the frame before entering for the sake of politeness. There was no response, but Lux was hardly expecting one.

She cautiously made her way up to the chair and the desk, dropping off the food-laden tray with some relief – it was the heaviest one today. Cassiopeia looked at her for a moment, before turning back to whatever she was working on. A quick peek revealed it was a marked-up map and a few pictures of a vaguely Ionian style building.

Lux stood there for a short while, just in case. The room seemed more – clean? well-maintained? – than it had been earlier, she was. That was probably a good sign.

She looked back to Cassiopeia. The woman had long, curly brown hair, she noted absently, a few shades lighter than her illusion's. She hadn't noticed that earlier. Was there more light in here?

After a few minutes, Lux made to leave.

"Wait," Cassiopeia said.

She was struck with a sudden sense of déjà vu.

"What is it, ma'am?" asked Lux.

"What's your name?"

"Lucy," she replied automatically, and that should've been the end of that. But then she looked, actually looked at Cassiopeia, and her body language was screaming 'genuine' and her face looked so oddly open and vulnerable, and it seemed wrong to lie, suddenly –

(when was the last time you didn't lie? how long has it been like this)

Lux's name meant nothing to anyone, anyway, when not combined with her family name. 'Crownguard' was famous, but know one knew a 'Lux' or 'Luxanna', not here.

Cassiopeia had already gone back to her work, back turned again, but it was clear she was still paying attention.

"You… can call me Lux, though," Lux said. "It's… what my friends call me."

Cassiopeia stiffened, then nodded.

(liar liar no one's called you lux in years)

The Du Couteau's house had a library.

It was quite a nice library, really, grand, with countless bookcases no doubt made of some ridiculously rare wood and pretty decorations scattered about. It took up nearly the entire east wing on the first floor. But everything in it was covered in a thin film of dust, as if no one had been inside it for a while.

In Lux's opinion, that was a crime. She herself hadn't had access to a library for more than a year, and was feeling the deprivation acutely. Meanwhile, they had such a wonderful one right here, and it was going unused.

She stroked the spine of a book on a nearby shelf, not bothering to suppress the smile that came to her lips. It would be fine if she spared a few minutes to just… look around the library, yes?

One particular bookcase caught her eye – it was far emptier that the others. Strange. How was this library organized, anyway? There really ought to be a standard system, Lux thought.

She bent over to examine to contents of the sparsely filled bookcase, and –

"Oh," Lux muttered.

These shelves contained books about magic.

Carefully, with a reverent air, she took one of the leather-bound tomes. Judging by its title, which was printed in one of the older languages used in studying magic, it was about the different ways spells were cast.

Lux glanced around. There was still no one else in the library, so…

A comfortable-looking armchair was sitting nearby, next to a picture window. She lugged the thick volume over, then sat down heavily on the soft cushions and cracked it open. It was dark – the sun had gone down and no lights were turned on – so, after another cautious glance around, Lux created a small white ball of light that hovered above the tip of her index finger. It was nothing compared to what she could do if she either had her baton or didn't care for subtlety, but it sufficed.

Lux smiled. It was small, but genuine.

(and hasn't it been a long time for that)

She stayed there, reading, for far too long. In all fairness, that hadn't been her intention, but it was a fascinating book and the slip wouldn't have mattered – shouldn't have mattered – but for –

"You're a mage."

Lux jumped, barely stifling a yelp, and the ball of light went out.

"… hello, Talon," she said weakly, after her mental faculties had ceased doing an impression of faulty electrical wiring. "Er, what brings you here?" And how could he sneak up on her so easily?

"You're a mage," Talon repeated, completely ignoring what she'd just said.

She snuck a glance at the assassin. It was impossible to see his face in the gloom, especially with his hood up, but he didn't seem especially angry, just confused. Disbelieving. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Yes, I am," Lux said, closing her book. Deny, deny, deny, act like you don't see the issue. "What of it?"

He said nothing for several seconds. Then, "Why aren't you in the military?"

Lux blinked. That… was actually a reasonable question, just one she hadn't been expecting. And now he was staring at her, waiting for an answer, because she was taking far too long.

She grasped at the first reason that came to mind. "I don't have the right… mindset, you could say. I don't take well to being ordered around, especially if I can't question those orders at all." A bit belatedly, she realized it was actually true. Huh.

Talon seemed to consider that. "How good are you at it?" he eventually asked.

"What?"

"Magic. How good are you?"

Try as she might, Lux couldn't think of a reason he might be asking. She settled on an ambiguous answer – the truth was, of course, out of the question.

(prodigy genius one of the best, no, quite possible the best in generations but the praise was always cold because it was always said in the manner of, how can we use this, like she was a tool, like she wasn't)

"I'd like to think I'm fairly decent," she said. "May I ask why you're asking?"

Lux couldn't be certain – again, it was dark, and he was wearing a hood – but she was fairly sure Talon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"There's a… problem," he said, " that I have, that I need a mage to look at. I was going to ask –" He shook his head. "But since you are one, that simplifies things."

Well, that was worryingly vague. Lux pushed away her speculations on possible issues that would trouble Talon Du Couteau. They wouldn't help.

"Alright," she said. It was hardly as if she could refuse, at any rate. "Er, is there anything I should know about this problem that you have?"

Talon looked off to the side. "Not… hm. Are you capable of stealth, at all?" His tone made it clear he was expecting a negative.

Oddness of the question aside, it was a reasonable assumption – she was supposed to be a maid, after all – but Lux still bristled slightly.

"I…" am one of the best, I've never been caught, "– am passable," she finished.

"Hm. I'll find you tomorrow, then."

With that, he left, only pausing to pick up a book from that shelf about magic. Lux sank back into her armchair, heaving a sigh.

"What interesting lives we lead," she muttered. She moved to pick up the book she'd been reading, but stopped halfway through the motion. It'd be impossible to concentrate with this on her mind.

Lux sighed again, and turned to gaze into the window behind her, reforming her ball of light. Talon now knew that she could do magic, which was far from an optimal scenario to be in. But she hadn't given away her power level or her specialty in light magic, which meant she could get out of here relatively scot-free should the need arise. Hopefully.

Her eyes refocused on the glass panes of the window as she pulled herself out of her thoughts. With her light, the library was significantly brighter than the outside, allowing the window to function as a mirror. Gray eyes stared back from the window panes, and Lux was struck by a sudden sense of vertigo – when was the last time that she'd looked into a mirror and seen her own reflection looking back?

Too long, she decided. But there was nothing to be done, really. Perhaps when she returned home…

(is it truly home if no one knows you? if no one awaits your return? if no one misses you?)