Chapter 1 Death may take me

Cold. Forcing tired limbs through soft, unforgiving snow; cold was all he could feel. Even with this body weakening each step and the trail behind him becoming more uneven as he went, the snowflakes still felt like the kisses of butterflies. But why? When he was dying in this harsh, merciless environment, then why did he feel like this? Easy: happiness. Never once had it occurred to him, that happiness could be found in something as simple as freedom - at least not like this...

Noxians found the young explorer in Ironspike Mountains, keeping him trapped for their own amusement while trying to pry - no, harvest - his mind for any valuable information. Ezreal, however, fought back the only way he could: spilling his guts. For hours he suffered in those frozen caverns, crying out recipes of apple pie and pumpkin cake, talking nonstop as they broke his bones and burned his skin. He never was much of a physical fighter, two of these brutes easily overpowering him as they introduced him to fear. He wondered briefly for how long he had been drowning, or felt like it. The wet rag covering his face being the simplest yet most terrorizing thing he ever experienced. His exhausted mind and strengthless body kept awake for days on end, water challenging his sanity with each drop; but still he couldn't break. So many times he wanted to curl up and cry, beg for his life, and hope they'd take pity on him, but he just couldn't. In exchange for his release they required of him something he couldn't give... How could he possibly value the lives of others below his own?

Keeping his hands close to his chest, he rubbed those sore wrists where rope had gnawed him skinless, blisters and open wounds tainting his pale limbs, and red drops of decaying life falling to mark the path he walked. His mind were anywhere but in this plane of existence, all pain ignored with the only logical thought being 'how'. How did he escape? He didn't know. He didn't want to care. He couldn't truly remember. One moment he was bound and the next he was free, his body acting on it's own and bringing him here. Ez was sure he had lost consciousness several times along the way, pure willpower being the only thing keeping his body moving, but now he was giving up.

He knew he couldn't make it and he accepted this cruel fate. So, he stopped. If this was his last moments awake, he wanted to think positively, to spare his mind to what he loved and not what he feared. They wouldn't reduce him to a self-pitying child.

Taking a deep, painful breath, he straightened his back and turned hazed eyes to the sky. Above him there was nothing but grey, the whole world covered in one shade, a monotone colour, but still he sensed the sun beyond the cloudy weather. Gosh, he missed the sun. The smell of roses. Barking dogs. Freshly baked rhubarb pie, still hot and with cream... Reading books. He missed it all, things so easily taken for granted… Even Lux's ear-shattering laugh.

Seeping in another shuddering breath, he bit his split lip and forced the tears back.

If there was just one thing he could ask for in this last moment, it would be an embrace...

The snow creaked, forcing Ez out the daydream, making him gaze ahead at a dark, hooded figure. Relief flooded his body, both hands clenching in front of his heart as the wind tugged at his hair. The Noxians wouldn't catch him now; Death was here to claim him… finally. Blinking slowly, the tears left his eyes, freezing on his lashes and cheeks while his lip quivered into the brightest smile he could muster. He wouldn't greet death with any regret. But…

… 'If there was just one thing' …

Releasing his shirt, Ez reached out as he kept blinking the tears from his fogged sight, the shadowed figure watching him without moving. Until he fell. Ez took a brave step forward, his body giving in before he could even truly fathom the movement, the shadow taking no more than two long strides to catch him. Funny, he hadn't expected Death to wear gloves, not that he minded as strong fingers wrapped around his own. An arm slipped around his waist, pulling him against a sturdy chest. His cheeks were able to feel the warm emanating from the dark fabric, and even if it was just a little, it was welcomed, his body shivering within this grasp. Pulling his hand from the gloved fingers, Ez reached both arms up to wrap around Death's neck, using all his remaining strength to hold on and embrace this figure as much he could.

It was all so perfect; probably the most beautiful places to find rest. With the snow calmly descending, the landscape around them untouched… No regrets; he would have no regrets.

His eyes fell shut, the arms around Death going limp, and his body eventually leaning more and more against the dark frame. But, before his legs could cave in, a cape was wrapped around him and his body lifted off the ground. Ez wondered where they would be going and what the place was like, hoping for warm and soft, but this was fine too. His head relaxed against Death's shoulder, his face almost buried in the cloth by the frame's neck for warmth, his nose catching a subtle scent of something masculine. Odd, he hadn't expected Death to have a scent either, but it was nice.

If only he wasn't so damn tired. He wanted to stay with this unfamiliar scent, cuddle against it if he had to, to steal away the warmth it accompanied. Maybe he wasn't as ready to die as he thought, his mind trying its hardest to command his body, but nothing would heed him. His eyes, his arms, his legs - nothing would move and it settled in him a tinge of fear. This scent was his only anchor in the real world and it was slipping away from him.

Ezreal then ceased to fight, letting himself go as he relaxed against the shadow.