This is going to be a little side project while I work on Lesser Evil, inspired by the new champion, Kai'Sa. I wanted to write a story about Quinn and Talon for quite a while now and Swain's rework together with Kai'Sa's future release were the final drop that sent me into a writing frenzy.

Tell me what you think about this little piece and let's see where it leads us!

"Why did you bring her here?"

"To interrogate her."

"What, my little brother brings me a present?"

"Not you. Cassie. I need her unharmed."

"Pfft. Why don't you just cut her open until she talks? Just let me at her, it won't take long."

"Demacian scouts are trained to resist torture, plus I don't think they gave her any more information than they needed to."

"Fine. But I want my turn when Cassie is done with her."

"I said NO."

"What, you want to have fun with her later?"

"I said-"

"Alright, fine! I'll go get her. Jeez."

"..."

The sound of footsteps echoing through a hallway, followed by a slammed door. Quinn groaned, trying to stay awake before sliding back into darkness.

"...does Swain know?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Well, his little birds will tell him sooner or later. But we should have a few hours with your little friend here..."

"Just get her to talk."

"Are you going to hand her over afterwards?"

"...no."

"Oh? Swain will get her. Either him or the Black Rose."

"I will smuggle her out and back to Demacia before that happens."

A hissing noise and the sound of something rubbing against the wooden floor made Quinn's eyes shoot wide open.

"Look who's awake."

The scout's eyes stared at the snakewoman and the assassin standing in front of her. She was gagged and her hands were suspended above her head, forcing her to stand on her toes. Her arms and shoulders were burning.

"Well, shall we get started?" Cassiopeia Du Couteau slithered towards the captured scout, a mischievous smile on her face. Quinn writhed against her bonds and grumbled something into the piece of cloth in her mouth, without success.

"Let's strip that armor out of the way, shall we?"

The cursed woman's fingers began to swiftly undo the clasps and buckles of Quinn's armor, leaving them to clatter to the floor one after one. She seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, according to the sadistic smile on her lips.

Quinn's mind was racing with thoughts. She had been captured on a scout mission into noxian territory by Talon. She was supposed to report back with troop movements and other intel. Valor. Gods, where was Valor?

As if she was reading her mind, the Du Couteau turned her head briefly to look at her brother. "By the way, where's her little blue friend?"

The assassins lips twitched slightly."Flew off before I could take him out."

Cassiopeia's eyebrows rose. "Then the Demacians will know we have her."

Talon fixed his gaze on Quinn's eyes. "It'll take at least two days for him to reach the nearest command center. by the time they send someone to get her back, I'll have her in Demacian territory again."

His sister clicked her forked tongue while she continued to strip her subject. "Why so insistent on keeping her alive? If you don't want to have fun with her...mh...quite remarkable little body, why not just kill her? I'm most curious what my dear little brother has in mind."

He removed himself from the wall he had been leaning against and stopped his sister from removing the bodysuit. "Just make her talk. You can have fun with one of the girls you keep chained up in the basement."

She gave him an annoyed look and freed her clawed hand from his grip. "Fiiine. You're no fun today. Or anytime recently, for that matter."

Cassiopeia began to coil her tail around Quinn's body, putting her hands on her shoulder and head. "This is going to...sting a bit, dear." She said with venom already in her voice.

Quinn frantically tried to wriggle free from her grip, but it was hopeless. The next thing she felt was a painful jab in the neck as the snakewoman sank her fangs into the scout's sensitive skin. Quinn groaned into her gag, panicking as she felt the venom entering her body.

Cassiopeia slowly pulled back, delightfully licking the small trickle of blood away. The sensation of the long, wet tongue made Quinn shiver.

"Now, sweetheart...I'm going to remove that nasty gag and you are going to tell me and my dear brother eeeverything you know. Because, well, you won't be able to help it."

The venom began to dig into her brain. She could feel thousands of tiny needles in her skull whenever she tried to fight it.

The woman removed the cloth. Quinn tried to say something, but her throat was dry and her tongue felt like a piece of old leather and the only sound she managed to make was a raspy groan.

"Oh? Let me help you with that~" Cassiopeia grabbed Quinn's chin and pressed her lips against hers, sliding her long, wet tongue into her mouth, along with a lot of saliva.

She gagged and tried to turn away, but the Du Couteau's grip was iron. She could feel her tongue slithering around in her mouth, wetting and touching everything, even her throat. Quinn gagged and wretched when the woman finally pulled back and was immediately stopped from spitting out by Cassiopeia's hand. "Swallow it. You'll need it later."

"That's enough!" Talon said angrily and pulled his sister away from his captive.

She hissed in annoyance, but complied and slithered aside.

Quinn coughed and wretched before being forced to look up by Talon's fingers around her chin. "Why were you sent to the border? What was your target?"

The scout stared at him and strained against the toxin in her veins, but ultimately lost the fight. "...I...the...Grand General..."

A frown grew on Talon's face. "Swain. What about him?"

Quinn gasped, a vein pulsating on her neck. "...no..."

His grip around her chin tightened. "What. Intel. Do. You. Have. On. Swain?"

Her breathing grew ragged. She tried to hold her breath to keep herself from talking. But ultimately, the poison won and the last sound she made on her own free will was a strained scream.

"Did she talk?"

"They always talk. Sooner or later."

Talon closed the door behind him, hiding a passed-out scout from Katarina's view. She leaned against the wall in the hallway and raised an eyebrow.. "So? What happened? Why was she on noxian soil?"

"Swain happened." he growled.

"And?"

"And he met LeBlanc."

The redhead's eyebrows rose to meet her hairline.

The Deceiver took a sip from her steaming cup of tea and then gently placed it back on the table. Seated on the other side of the small piece of wooden furniture was the Grand General of Noxus, his right elbow on the armrest, knuckles planted against his temple.

LeBlanc had chosen the small inn for several reasons. First, it was located in a small town near the border of Noxus, meaning it would take time for information to travel from there to the capital, meaning what or whoever carried it could be eliminated before it reached its destination. Second, there were few military forces stationed here and therefore the town held less power for her beloved foe. And third - it was a cosy place that served excellent tea.

Swain hid his annoyance well. She had taken her time to drink her tea teasingly slow, insisting that whatever he wanted to discuss could wait until she was finished. No amount of waiting would be enough to truly anger Swain, but the drumming of his fingers - the red, clawed fingers of his other hand - told her that her stalling had at least some effect.

With a smile that could slay a saint she neatly folded her fingers and placed her chin on top, giving her opponent a long look. "So, what brings us here today, Grand General?"

"The Void." He replied within a heartbeat. He hated wasted time. Especially his.

LeBlanc cocked her head. Always straight to the point. How Noxian of him.

"There are rumors about a new creature."

"There are always rumors about a new creature from the Void. What makes you lose your sleep over this one?"

"I do not lose sleep over rumors." Swain retorted with the trademark snark in his voice. "But this rumor has a hard core that could be a troublesome pebble in my shoe down the road."

The Deceiver leaned back in her seat. "Do go on."

"Do you remember Kassadin?"

"The Void Reaver? What about him?"

"He lost his daughter years ago to the Void. Or rather, in the Void. Rumor has it the girl has survived and returned with powers even beyond those of her father."

LeBlanc thought for a few moments. "I remember the incident. The Prophet took her from him and he fought the Void ever since. Is it certain it is her?"

"As certain as a rumor can be. The girl has changed." Swain opened his Eldritch hand to summon a small, red sphere that showed a glimpse of a girl slaying a giant void creature before disappearing back into a purple rift. Her body was fused with what LeBlanc could only identify as a suit made of void materials.

"Quite the catch. But what worries you about her? If she rejoins her father, they will fight the Void together. Less work for your troops."

Swain inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. "Kassadin was physically changed by the Void in Icathia as I was changed by the demon. But his mind remained mostly untouched. She however lived and survived in the Void plane itself for years. She seems to fight the creatures, but she can do that without returning here. Her arrival must mean more. If the girl takes the side of any of our enemies, she needs to be eliminated. We can not allow the scales to tip against Noxus."

LeBlanc made a face. "Ah, I see. You need my help."

"The help of the Black Rose. And this time, I'm afraid I have to demand it."

Her face hardened and she raised a hand. Immediately, all passerbys on the street stopped and drew weapons to point at the Grand General.

"You should know me good enough to know that one does not make demands of me. And that I never go without assurances."

Swain remained unfazed and in turn raised his hand. Every guest at the inn stopped their chatter and drew weapons themselves, cutting the Deceiver from her support.

For several tense moments, the two stared at each other, unmoving.

Then, LeBlanc smiled and leaned back. "My, you haven't lost your touch, my dear."

Both gave the signal and the assassins resumed their activities.

Swain chuckled. "Good men age like fine wine. But you don't seem to age at all, Evaine."

She gently cupped his cheek with a gloved hand. "Oh, I do. But they don't need to know that, do they?"