The Serpent Beneath

Summary: Of shadows and lamias.
Characters: Talon, Cassiopeia
Genre: Romance, Lewd, Lamias

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The League hosted hundreds of unique champions, and as a champion representing Noxus, Talon had become familiar with all of them. Most familiar to him were his “kin” so to speak, the Noxians that fought beside him and against him in conflict upon the Fields of Justice. They filed to portals that would send them home in relative silence-mortal enemies would glare at one another, shouts and jeers would ring out, but the powerful magics of the summoners present would curb any harmful hostility that might otherwise ignite. There was one body, however, he had eyed closely, perhaps a bit too closely.

“Keep staring like that and I'll turn you to stone.” The voice cracked from somewhere far away and Talon shook out of his daze. Cassiopeia glared back at him, her arms folded and body tense. Her body language told of nothing more than trite annoyance. The stares seemed never-ending; it was why she hardly ever left the manor any more. The servants themselves still had yet to grow accustomed to her new serpentine form. Sour depression balled in her stomach and she resisted the urge to scowl. Atrocious. Inhuman. She was nothing but a monster to them still. Still she fought for the interests of Noxus, and only her sister seemed truly grateful that she did. Determined to remain the better in the conversation, she supplanted her feelings of resent with a domineering smirk. “Pitiful if you've exhausted every human option and have to opt for only half.” She turned her back to him and slithered towards a portal, halting once to twist her head far enough to look back at him. “And even then you haven't the faintest of chances.”

Talon smirked, his eyes lingering on the lamia's swaying hips for a moment before he retorted, “Self-deprecation? I didn't take you as that type. I suppose there are some things you don't learn fighting in the fields.”

Cassiopeia turned about and, her face set in a wide, disingenuous smile and her tone akin to poisoned honey. “I have little interest in associating myself with you, and your pathetic jabs aren't going to get you anywhere except a ditch, cold and alone.” She crossed her arms once more and her face worked into an ugly scowl. “If you enjoy being upright and not strewn across the ground in pieces, I suggest you not try me.” With this, she turned about once more and continued towards the portal.

His smugness now palpable, Talon kept up alongside Cassiopeia and continued to run his mouth, intent of ribbing past Du Couteau's vicious exterior. “Come now Cassiopeia, bodies in ditches is the sort of work I was employed for. Delicate fingers are not meant for such brutality, easy now!” He jumped back and chuckled; her irritation lashed out in the form of a swift swipe at his cheek with sharp claws. “Those aren't quite so effective as these anyway.” He pulled a dagger from his side and flipped it idly in the air, smiling broadly at Cassiopeia, smugness pouring out of him.

With an angered hiss, she reached out and roughly grabbed the front of Talon's tunic. “Insulting me is one thing, but do not do me the dishonor of pretending to not find me hideous. I have seen more than enough of that around my home. I do not need to see it from a smug, overblown 'ally.' I will deal with you when we are in more private quarters. Now stop fidgeting.” She stared at him with a petrifying gaze, and Talon felt his entire body seize up, his form now rigid and unyielding as the world about him was swept into darkness.

When he awoke, he found himself in an exquisite chair; a soft breeze played into the room and he looked about, his eyes unfocused, at an extravagant room. His bladed cloak and usual assortment of daggers had vacated his person, leaving him decidedly vulnerable. “Where am I?” He got to his feet, his entire form precariously unsteady and meandered about the room. Bookshelves adorned three of the walls, odd, no doubt expensive relics peppered the expansive flooring, and on the wall opposite the door way stood a massive window, the pointed tip of it's arch flowing down unto the floor and leading out onto a small balcony adorned with exotic plants. He frowned and looked about; several of the trinkets and many of the paintings upon the walls were of serpents. At once, his memory flooded back into him as the door clicked and swung open.

“Awake are we? Good. Torture has little value if the victim cannot feel it.” Cassiopeia slithered into the room, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “The Summoners would throw a fit if I tore someone apart in their precious Institute.” A sharp-fingered hand game up to her chin and held it delicately and her scowl melted away into a nasty grin. “Now, what to do...” The door clicked behind her, shut with her tail with a flourish.

Taken aback for a moment, Talon shrugged the feeling off and smirked. “How ever will I escape?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder behind him and said smugly, “A massive open window is such a terrible means to escape a room.” Cassiopeia's eyes flashed and Talon felt himself seize up momentarily. His smirk twisted into a frown. “Is that how you intend to play this game?”

Cassiopeia's smile broadened as she made her way up to the hapless assassin. “When has a constrictor ever been worried about how much open space it's prey has?” Her tail slunk across the floor and began to wind itself slowly up Talon's legs.

“That is well and true, but you are, at most, a garter snake.” He sprung away from her tail and turned heel, intent on escaping through the window. Yet with each step he took, the window seemed to draw only infinitesimal amount closer. Scowling, but nonetheless determined he continued to move his leaden legs forwards when a familiar tail wound themselves about them again, this time with much greater force and with enormous effort, he struggled to keep himself from tripping forward.

She wound herself tightly about his legs and pressed her torso against his back; a small laugh tickled his ears. Her mouth a few inches away she whispered, “My coils extend beyond just this tail, I would have expected you to know that. You can't run from a monster after you prod its eye.”  Her voice lowered to a barely audible hiss, “Now, do I crush your legs or do you gamble that it will just be a dry bite?”

His mind worked as quickly as it could, considering all routes of escape and screaming profanities at a terribly timed resurgence in his libido. He spied a serpentine dagger in a display case and felt his heart leap. He'd gambled many a time, and a chance would serve him better than broken legs. “I can call bluffs when I see them, Cassiopeia. Ask Twisted Fate.” He forced himself forward, shuffling as much as he could towards the display case.

She did not notice, and if she did, she did not seem to care. “So you can. But it won't spare you the stinging pain.” Her head tilted sideways and slowly she clamped her mouth on his neck, pointed, elongated fangs sinking through flesh as her hands wound themselves up his torso to his clavicle. She bit harder still into his neck, the flesh vibrating slightly from a groan of pain and dug her sharpened fingers into his chest, dragging them slowly down, the soft sounds of tearing fabric emanating all the while. She released his neck at last, blood trickling out of the wounds and shuddered with delight, her tail tightening about him instinctively. She pressed herself against his back further, the soft flesh of her breasts producing terribly conflicting feelings of pleasure with the stinging pain now adorning his neck and chest. He fought to shuffle himself towards the dagger nonetheless. The display box was but a few feet away, and Cassiopeia seemed to have been driven into a mild blood frenzy; she remained blissfully ignorant of his intent as she drew delicate fingers up under his chin and lifted it, exposing more vulnerable neck. “Shall we take that gamble again Talon?” Her breath caressed his neck, light tickles failing to betray her bared fangs, drawn lips and salivating mouth.

Talon reached slowly for the lid of the box, deliberately avoiding unnecessary movement. With care, the lid of the box lifted, and his fingers found the familiar warmth only the cold steel of daggers could afford him. “That is a question I should be asking you.” In a whirl, he was face to face with temptress, the unfeeling steel of the weapon pressed threateningly against the leathery skin of her own neck. Her face curled into a wicked snarl. “Release me Cassiopeia.  I am not so weak to be brought in by toxic charms.” The coils around him slackened only slightly; was it defeat?

“Kill me then. It would only be too easy. Even the guilt of taking human life would fail to stain your conscience.” Her tone was splattered with self-loathing, but behind the fierceness of her eyes lingered an ember of despair and fear. “It is only too easy to kill a monster.”

Talon's grip upon the dagger did not fail him, but his urge to press it any farther certainly did. “Never have I found it particularly easy to slit Kha'Zix's throat or impale his spine.” He stared a hole through her vicious exterior. “I am hardly holding the life of a monster in my hands. That is a feeling I have already known.”

With a vicious, guttural roar of anger, the coils tightened about his legs. “LIAR! I know deception like the back of my hands, I have bedded with falsehood and trickery more times than you have ever opened a vein! I was the embodiment of alluring espionage once, you think me so foolish to believe you?” Angry tears welled in the corners of her eyes and began to flow down her delicate face. “Kill me! Never again will I awaken to reflections of a monster.” She sobbed in earnest now- tears streamed freely down her face.

Talon threw the dagger expertly at the nearest wall, where it embedded itself with a dull thud. “There is a definite distinction between a monster and a cursed woman. I see no reason to think you anything but the latter of the two. Monsters, after all, do not catch my eye.” Cassiopeia lifted her head, eyes still streaming, and gave Talon a look of incomprehension. “There is certainly something exotic to your current...” He paused, fishing for an apt description. “Predicament, let's call it. Although I would you put you very far from hideous. Unusual, yes, but not hideous.”

Cassiopeia left her gaze fixed on Talon; what he said seemed beyond the realm of possibility. Her lips parted slightly and her expression remained dumbfounded. “What...what are you saying Talon?”

Bravery and certainly a health dose of foolishness leaping in his chest, he leaned forward, Cassiopeia drawing back as he did, her weight now thrown entirely rearwards. Talon smirked and curled an arm about her, his hand catching the small of her back. The coils surrounding his legs slackened and with a feeling of shame, her face turned away from his. “You're an awful liar.” She gasped as the warm softness of lips pressed against her cheek. A hand flew up, intent on intoning a harsh reprimand across his face, but it met instead his own hand, and his fingers quickly crossed with hers.

“Why else would I stare Cassiopeia? If I really wanted to insult you, I could think of far better things to do and say.” She chanced a glimpse at his face and saw firm resolution etched across it. A feeling she felt equated best to being surveyed beneath a microscope flooded her.

“What is it you want Talon?”

Talon smiled. “Well, at the risk of you trying to slap me once again, I've got what I want.” He leaned forward and planted his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes widened in shock, and the coils that had been supporting much of his weight slackened entirely, sending the two falling to the floor with a dull thud. Talon was not deterred- his tongue ran across her lips once, and when they parted inched into her mouth. She relented, and her hand came up slowly to caress his cheek with a long, pointed finger.

She pushed him gently off him and turned towards the long, elegant bed that sat before the window. “If what you are saying is true...” She pulled the cups that covered her breasts away and dropped them daintily on the floor before turning about and slithering back onto the bed. The tip of her tail flicked invitingly at him. “Please show me.” Excited, Talon strode across the room, tossing his tunic away and descending upon her. He pressed a his lips against hers once more and brought a hand up to cup a breast. He worked it over gently in hand, playfully tugging at a rapidly stiffening nipple; he smiled inwardly as she moaned her approval into his mouth. His other hand drifted up, tracing a slow line along her stomach and settling on her other breast, and massaging it. She pulled her mouth away and moaned, uninhibited now, for more.

He obliged; his mouth dropped down to suckle one of the fleshy mounds, and his fingers pulled more forcefully on the nipple of the other. Her moans rose in pitch, hands coming up to clutch the back of  his head. His hands worked steadily faster, his mouth sucked more rapidly, and all the while Cassiopeia  wriggled beneath him in joy.

His head was pulled away, and for an instant he thought perhaps something had happened; instead, he was met with a lustful gaze. Her hand slid down from his face and down to the golden skirt that ringed her waist. With a click, she pulled it off and threw it onto the floor. Talon glanced down for only a moment; the curse had been indiscriminate-her womanhood had been changed as well, now a smooth slit in the scales of her pelvis. A tiny frown crossed her face. “Talon?” He smirked and brushed a finger across it before slipping it within the soft folds. Her tail wound about one of his legs in surprise and a shiver ran across her entire body. His finger slid back and forth within her, each thrust sending a crawling shiver across her body. Again and again, until a second joined, the shocks now arching her back, and when the third entered her broken, stuttering moans stopped; she grabbed his arms, panting and stopped him. “Take me.” Her tail unwound itself from his leg and cheekily tugged away his pants.

The garment now discarded, pulled his frame above hers and pressed against her folds; they parted slowly, consuming him inch by inch. He bottomed out, and began thrusting, grunting quietly all the while; the feeling of her tail coiling about his torso fueled his libido. Her arms came around to his back, her long fingers digging their nails into him from sheer ecstasy. Her body rocked beneath him, breasts bouncing in rhythm, tail squeezing him with each drive. Her tone was demanding. More. Faster. Harder.

Talon could not agree more, pounding himself into her with increased force, grunts of exertion and pleasure mixing with Cassiopeia's own moans of delight. Her hands dragged themselves off his back; she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them together. They glinted, her torso slick with sweat. “More! More!” She'd lost herself entirely to the moment, the shadows of rising orgasm etched across her face-mouth agape and tongue hanging loose. Her eyes rolled upwards and the tail about his midsection tightened once more. At once, she let out a long, shuddering moan of bliss, her hands flying up to grasp his shoulders as her deepest parts of her pulsed and twitched. With difficulty, she pulled her convulsing form, still reeling from orgasm to his ear and stuttered out, “D-don't stop.”

He was huffing audibly, the effort getting to him in more ways than one. Climax pooled about his groin, growing steadily in size, threatening to burst out at any moment as his thrusts became still faster and pushed him as deep as he could into her. She was tightening more about him, each pull back accompanied by feelings of her folds refusing to release him. With little more than a loud groan of warning, he exploded, warm seed flowing and spilling into her womb. Still pulsing and twitching, she reluctantly released his member, spurts of seed spreading across her abdomen and trickling out of her slit. His back stung, his sides felt bruised and deep cuts had pressed themselves into his shoulders. Still he smiled, her tail uncoiling and his slick form falling to rest beside her.

Several minutes of silence, broken only by dying breathlessness passed, and at last, Cassiopeia turned on her side to face Talon. He stared at the ceiling with what he imagined was a stupid grin across his face and cocked his head to face her when she spoke. “So you've seduced a Du Couteau. My father would kill you if he found out.” A hand came up to his cheek and traced a delicate line across it. “Though I doubt he would be pleased to know that it was I, the seductress herself, of all people to fall to it. Especially to you, an assassin from the slums of Noxus.”

He chuckled. “Is that so? Well if and when he's found, I'll be sure to conveniently forget this episode.”

A mock frown crossed her face. “What? Don't you find me beautiful?”