Jarvan IV

The soldiers on either side of the man helped him to his feet, barely worse for wear. The Prince frowned, and set his mind back to the task at hand; even if he wasn't quite sure what that was.

"Pardon me? You really wanted to what? I'm happy to oblige if it's within my power."

"Were they not the most powerful mages in the land - with the utmost disdain. I do believe however, that when I am king I will uphold the commitment my father made to the Institute, and despite the fact that I believe it is (on occasion) a pit of filth hell bent on turning war and morality into a spectator sport - that it at least a necessary evil for the moment."

"I want to help them, damnit!"The resulting bang of a fist against a table and the clinking of moving glasses and dishes rang throughout the bar. Jarvan and Garen sat at their usual corner table in a small, but well-lit tavern on the outskirts of the Noble's District. Not one day earlier, news had broken that the Noxian invasion force had made ground on the island nation of Ionia. Tensions were high in Demacia - as a great number of citizens showed support for the island's people, and insisted that the Demacian war machine mobilize in an effort to repel the Noxian soldiers before much damage could be done."My Prince, I want nothing more than to whet Judgement with Noxian blood, but... this is not our fight.""Like hell it isn't! We'd have boots on the ground already if it weren't for the blasted Institute of War.""That's exactly why it isn't our fight, Jarvan. We made an agreement - to settle our differences elsewhere and we have an obligation to uphold it no matter how we may feel about it."The Prince grumbled. He knew Garen was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Unfortunately, if the Demacian people and soldiers wanted to help in Ionia, they'd have to do it without the support of the official Demacian military.

"Unfortunately no, but Quinn is a grand young woman and she makes Demacia - and me - very proud."

"Urgent business called me away to another land."

The Mayor of Kalamda sat at the long end of the table, sweat glistened off the top of his balding head and he ran his fingers over his bushy mustache as he sat in the middle of the fledgling mining negotiations. Beside him sat Jarvan’s father - the King of Demacia - and finally, at the other end of the table, sat Jarvan.He was proud to sit beside his father at such important negotiations. The area around Kalamanda was a rich and vastly important location for various minerals and precious metals, but a sense of foreboding hung low in the air around the village.Across the room, a stir interrupted the King’s pen just as it touched paper. Swain, Grand General of Noxus came forth through the crowd - and past the Valor Knights that stood guard - with his cloak billowing, and a ruffled up miner in tow. Jarvan took to his feet and made a motion for his weapon, but at his father’s behest, stayed his hand.General Swain stood straight as he could on his bum leg as he sneered at the pair of royals. "For those who preach such high and mighty words, you’ve sure taken grand steps to be underhanded here... as my new friend tells me.""Oh?" Jarvan’s father sounded unimpressed. "Do tell, sir.”"It would seem that this Demacian man has just admitted to the sabotage of the mine that you so hastily blamed Noxus for. Imagine that, sire.”The venom apparent in the pair of leaders’ voices was palpable. The King grit his teeth and Jarvan took note of the vein in his forehead throbbing in frustration."A grievous charge, that much is certain… if you can prove it, General.”"Oh, but I can. The poor, poor man clams to have been forced to perform such a heinous crime on behalf of none other than your son; Jarvan IV.”A deafening silence crushed the life from the room as every occupant suddenly grew quiet. A stunned look show on the prince’s face for but a moment before his features twisted into rage. He slammed his gauntleted fist against the wooden table with a terrible crash."Swain, you sack of shit! You’re a blaggard, and a liar. I did no such thing!"He reached for his dragon lance, bellowing on self-righteously, fully prepared to defend his good word… until his father held up a hand to silence him. When The King spoke, he spoke with a cool voice and an attitude that seemed to chastise his son by proxy."Is this true, sir?" The ruddy miner nodded, and Jarvan’s heart went cold. He was being framed.

The clouds hung low, black and swollen with rain, and the sky looked as if it would break open and pour at any moment. The boy prince - no older than five - stood amongst the other members of his family outside the immaculate Lightshield family mausoleum as the body of his grandfather Jarvan II was carried past. All around, the people of Demacia gathered to offer one final goodbye to their king. The family - and his grandfather’s Steward followed the gold cloaked honor guard into the well-lit tomb where Jarvan II was laid to rest beside his wife in a splendidly carved stone coffin crafted carefully in his likeness by the nation’s finest stonemasons.Beside the young prince - in the privacy of the tomb - the new King and Queen were free to show emotion away from the prying eyes of the people, and while his mother took this opportunity, it stuck strongly in his mind that his father’s face bore no emotion. His father was a hard man, and this was no exception.Try as he might, Jarvan was not his father. He missed his Pop-pop already, and it showed like a stain on his face. He felt ashamed as he sobbed quietly, and the guard set to work sealing the coffin permanently.

"Run, Jarvan. Run!”He was moving as fast as he could. Dodging past servants, and maids - hooking ‘round corners abruptly and flying through the halls. The youthful voice of a guard rang through the courtyard - accompanied by laughter - as the boy-prince hurtled past carrying a stolen parcel from the royal kitchen.It was a game he’d often liked to play. The fat man in the kitchens made wonderful salt-water toffies, (which Jarvan took great pleasure in eating) and was woefully inept at the pursuit and retrieval of said toffies.As the Prince rounded a corner, his momentum increased greatly and he knew for sure that he would escape once again, but… BANG.It hit Jarvan like a ton of bricks. Toffies went flying in every direction, and the boy was sent hurling towards the ornate tiled floor. He shook the daze from his head, and took the helpful hand before him. The hand of his father’s very disappointed steward."You will clean these up, and return them to the kitchens. You will also apologize.""No! I’m the Prince! These are mine now!"A frown crept across the man’s features, and his brow crinkled as he thought. When he spoke this time, he spoke slowly and deliberately - his strangely accented voice icy like a glacier."You may be Prince, young Jarvan, but you have much to learn about being one. This is not the way a ruler behaves in Demacia. You are not some Noxian dog; you are a man, and a man does not steal. Especially from those easily robbed."Jarvan looked at his feet guiltily."Go!" The steward barked. “Now. Do not let me hear of this again.”

((Why yes! Yes they can!))