Chapter Text
Clink. They glitter in the sun - hot and shiny, hot and green.
Bang. Another shot. Splinters and pieces of broken glass. He never misses.
Lulu squeezed her shirt, tying it so that it covered only what it absolutely needed to. It was insufferably hot in this Noxian valley, though the yordle she was watching seemed unbothered by it. The old soldier was in his full uniform, only its sleeves rolled up that he could shoot better at the empty bottles he had lined up on a nearby rock. A slobbering creature was fussing and flopping nearby; Lulu knew its kind from her dreams, a snorting drakalops that was as ugly as it was immortal. It noticed her first, staring at her with its eyes wide open and its long tongue hanging out.
„Yer a long way from home,“ the soldier noted when Lulu hopped closer, „this ain't a place for you forest kids.“
He took another shot, and another salve of broken glass shimmered in the sun. Lulu watched the fragments fall to the parched ground, amazed with how each one of them reflected the bright light.
„Hmm, yes,“ the enchantress mused, stepping towards the drooling creature and giving it a proper back rub, „I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere.“
The wheezing drakalops flopped to the ground as Lulu kept rubbing and petting it, excited for more scratches. Its master stopped aiming for a while and looked over his shoulder, revealing his lame eye.
„Look at you, so young and pretty,“ Lulu puffed her cheeks while grabbing those of the drakalops, „a charmer! My, we could be sisters.“
The yordle pulled his cap up. „Kid, you're bonkers.“
„I've heard that one before!“ Lulu latched onto the neck of her new slobbery friend as it rose to its hind legs, pulling her up. She swung onto its scaled back, squeezing it.
„We've met, you know?“ Lulu sighed, „me and Skaarl, though her name was different then. And she looked a bit different. And you - you're familiar, though also not.“
„I think I'd remember a crazy bint like yourself,“ the bearded yordle scratched his forehead and swung his rifle over his shoulder, „though it seems Skaarl agrees, somehow. Well, now I just have to at least invite ya for a dinner, don't I?“
„Maybe,“ Lulu flashed her fangs at the sun, „but not here. They're coming.“
The soldier looked towards the horizon, shielding his single unscarred eye. The ground beneath them was thumping; something was indeed coming, something large and unfriendly.
„Well shit,“ the old yordle spat on the ground, stowed his rifle and climbed onto Skaarl's back, „that's a whole lotta Demacians.“
Lulu purred when he sat behind her and tugged Skaarl's reins to turn the beast around. The cowardly drakalops was happy to waddle away from danger, picking up a swift pace when Lulu's fairy companion began guiding its way. Not that those two had any sort of special connection, no; Skaarl simply wanted to eat what looked like a slightly more sparkly flying bug.
And Lulu was glad to have found some shelter from the warring kingdoms.
The dusty corner of Noxus she was brought to wasn't any more hospitable or welcoming than any other part of the bleeding empire, but the half-ruined ranch Kled occupied seemed at least safe for the night. There were no marauding clans hollering just behind the rocky plateaus, no marching regiments or invading Demacians; it was just a boring old farm that once belonged to an unlucky family. Lulu found their bones scattered around the homestead, finding it great fun to try and put them back together to see just how many people died at that place. She assembled three full humans and some leftovers.
„So, Lulu,“ the old yordle tossed a few more rotten planks into the fireplace he started in the courtyard, „you still didn't tell me what yer doing here, trespassing on my land.“
„Hm, well,“ the enchantress looked at the three skeletons she sat next to the snoring Skaarl, „I'm on my way to the Immortal Bastion.“
„Fair 'nuff,“ Kled dusted off his cap, „Skaarl thinks you have a plan.“
„I think I remember why you're familiar,“ Lulu dodged the topic, leaning against the barn door in an attempt to push it open, „the fairies told me there was a spirit of war in these lands. I think they meant you.“
„Fairies?“ Kled snorted. „Fairies are no good. Just glitter, shady pacts and weird bullshit.“
„Accurate.“ Lulu took a step back, then kicked the barn door. The old wood refused to give in still. „But they're friends. And they show me things.“
„Like that I'm a spirit of war.“ Kled got up from the fire, grabbing his polearm. „Not gonna lie, that's one fancy title. Lieutenant Sergeant Commodore, Lord Admiral, Spirit of War - how's that?“
„Bit awful,“ Lulu admitted when he smashed the door open, „make it War Spirit and put it in front of the rest, I say.“
„That's not bad.“ He stabbed the pike back into the ground as she went to scour the barn for anything interesting. „Have you been in the military, girl?“
„No, no - not in this life, anyway,“ Lulu mumbled, „but I might consider it. Someday.“
„I could teach ya how to shoot,“ Kled huffed, watching her climb a cracking ladder up to the hayloft, „bottles, rabbits, whiny Demacian pricks. 'sall the same.“
„I think I'd like that.“ Lulu dug through the hay, finding another skull. Her eyes sparkled with joy. „Do I have to join the military for that, though? Can't you just pretend I'm your crazy little niece?“
„Hmm,“ he stroked his tan fur-beard, „but not from my sister's side. She's a right cunt, that one. Or was. I don't think she survived that headshot.“
„You're a rough one, uncle Kled,“ Lulu noted and tossed the skull down to him, „this is why we don't invite you to family dinners anymore.“
„As if I missed any of those pompous pissbags.“ He sidestepped the skull, grabbed the ladder and started climbing up after her. „At least my favourite niece comes to visit me every now and then.“
„I've been your niece for five minutes and I'm already the favourite?“ Lulu jumped into the haypiles. „I like this.“
„Well, don't think I'm gonna let you keep that spot for free,“ Kled noted once he was standing up in the loft, trying to find her in the dried grass. Her garish mane and long ears made that fairly easy.
„What if I end up being really bad at shooting?“
She could feel him grabbing her hair, tugging it. When she refused to come to him, he tugged harder, as if she was Skaarl and her mane was the reins. He didn't like people disobeying him, so much was clear.
„I guess you'll have to find a different way, then!“
The enchantress had to follow his pull; he wasn't very subtle about where he wanted to have her, and she eagerly bit into the fur above his belt. He smelled of smoke and iron and gunpowder, of machines and war and it both frightened and excited her.
It became clear soon enough that he was not going to give her much space or agency. He kept ahold of her hair, and she was content to let his will overwhelm hers, mesmerized by the commanding stare he gave her from above. She watched his expression change as hers became more servile, more meek, as she moved a little lower to smother and obsess over his still dressed crotch; he liked a little worship, tightening the hold on her hair and rewarding her with a crooked smile.
„Go on. Be a good lil' girl.“
Faking clumsiness and fumbling with his uniform, she watched in anticipation as his impatience and annoyance grew. When she finally managed to undo his trousers, he let out a low growl; she barely tasted his cock when he used his hold on her hair to shove himself all the way down her throat and forced her to taste the matted fur in his groin. The surprise and sudden lack of breath forced tears into Lulu's eyes, and that in turn put a satisfied smirk on his face. His tight grasp on her ensured that she was looking at him as he was choking and using her, and she couldn't do anything but wait until he was done fucking her face. She could barely speak afterwards, slobber and cum dripping down from her lips.
„Don't get too comfortable, kid,“ Kled noted when he finally let go of her and fell back into the hay to light a tarbloom cigar, „we're not done yet.“
„Of course, uncle,“ Lulu wheezed, wiping her mouth with her loose shirt. She didn't let her stare off him for a single moment, enjoying that invisible chain binding her to him. While he rested on the hay and puffed out rings of smoke, she imagined how it could've been were they actual family; she huffed at dreams of herself being pulled aside behind the curtains by a perverted uncle and used so hard and fervently that he'd have to hold her mouth to keep her from moaning.
Sweat and cum leaking onto her mother's precious carpets...
Promises of beatings if anybody learns of it...
Promises of beatings even if nobody does.
Clothes and collars pulled and torn. Pleas to stop - no breaks given. Not until he's done.
Being little more than a thing, a piece of furniture, a toy...
„Turn around and bend over.“
She didn't obey, pretending to be too deaf, too stupid to listen. She wanted him to do it himself, and so he did; he put out the cigar and got up from his pile to grab her neck, throwing her face at the wooden floor and grabbing her hips. Pix landed in her hair and Lulu turned her eyes up when it released a gentle spark of magic.
„Ah?“
Her first grunt was confused, an unspoken question; the one that followed was nothing like it, a whiny groan of pain that hit her when her lewd uncle pressed against her ass and then just went in, without questions or preparation. It was unpleasant. It was punishing. It was a violation. Maybe that's why it made her drool and moan and arch her back; each thrust brought her little depraved fantasy to life, every push of his fuzzy hips against her made her feel like she maybe really was that dirty little niece getting groped and raped by a deviant uncle that liked her a little too much.
It was like a fever. She didn't even know if she came; she knew he did, from the sticky running down her thighs. He was always so quick, probably from being lonely and weird, and it barely left him any time to humiliate her during their play. And she wanted that. Not to be left just bruised, but insulted and spat on.
Alas, there was only so much he was willing to do in one night.
„Uncle Kled,“ she chirped quietly when she sat on his lap after the whole ordeal, hurting and fantasizing, „maybe I'll stay a day more. Is that okay?“
He put his cap on her purple mane and tilted his head to the side so she could nibble on him. She was precious to him now - when she was obedient.
„Sure,“ he looked down the now filthy hayloft to see if any of what they did woke the drakalops. The creature was still snoring outside - perhaps for the better.
„Anytime, kid.“