AN: This is a collaboration between a friend and I. Feels good to finally have -something- to show for all this time.
Life is a funny thing. Ashe thought to herself as she walked the barren streets of Bilgewater. Cloaked in shadows, unwilling to let the world see her face, she breathed in the bitter salty air as she continued her slow journey – a journey of enlightenment; a journey of defeat.
It had all started on a cold February day as a common girl had walked onto the battlefield with an unusual pet. Ashe and Tryndamere had been holding their own, fighting hand in hand, but it was clear that before long the tired pair would face defeat at the face of their Noxian enemies. Quinn, Ashe later learned she was called, flew into the battlefield amongst a hail of bolts that rivaled even Ashe's incredible volleys. The three allies fought together, holding off five of Noxus' best, and before long had achieved victory on the battlefield.
Ashe, Quinn and Tryndamere retired to one of the many Barbarian villages Tryndamere had visited in his youth. Raucous as always, Tryndamere quickly deteriorated into a blundering, drunken loud-mouth. Ashe smiled to herself – the man was inconceivably charming and revolting at the same time. The center of attention, Tryndamere quickly began relating tales of the battle they had just won in between pulls of mead. The tankards kept flowing and Ashe enjoyed a nice buzz herself alongside the man that she loved, sitting at his right hand side.
Quinn sat quietly at the back end of the table while stroking Valor softly and feeding him tidbits from the table. Tryndamere flashed a hungry look towards Quinn, unable to hide his lust from Ashe in his drunken state. A slight jealousy gripped Ashe but she ignored it – after all what chance did this common woman have when compared to Princess Ashe, the Frost Archer?
Ashe came across the inn she was looking for in Bilgewater. A crosshair sign swung in the breeze above the door, crudely drawn and tattered. As Ashe stepped inside, the interior matched the sign perfectly. The room was filled with acrid smoke that burned her lungs. Ashe couldn't get used to anything in this place. She missed her cold northern air, the open view, and rugged, frozen tundra. That was all gone now though. She remembered the last time she had seen it…
Before long it was clear that Tryndamere no longer favored her. Quinn, Tryndamere, and she had fought countless battles together, leveling opponents with frightening speed. With each victory a new alliance appeared to emerge. Tryndamere and Quinn held gazes longer as they worked in coordination and often leaving Ashe behind to cover their backs as they dashed forward together. Everything Ashe did felt inadequate; Quinn felt stronger, better, and younger. Ashe's tears felt warm against her chilling heart and with each battle Ashe felt a strange new sensation gripping her: pain. Her pride had always guarded her from pain, but the now-inseparable Quinn and Trynd threatened that pride as Ashe remained second best.
Ashe had walked in on Quinn and Trynd in a banquet hall kissing. Her eyes pierced the dark through an open door, probably 300 feet away, and she clearly saw the loving gazes that Trynd and Quinn favored each other with as they kissed one another. Valor hopped happily between the two, sending a quiet, deep laughter through Tryndamere as he stroked the bird, its happy caws purring through the hall. Ashe had left that night.
Ashe didn't see who she was supposed to meet, so she went up to the gigantic bartender and ordered a flask of mead. The red-haired man laughed raucously, stating, "Little lady, thi' ain't tha place fer ya, nor is this tha brew fer ya."
The look Ashe leveled at the man surprised him in its ferocity, and he stumbled back before quickly grabbing a keg, hefting it easily with one hand and pouring her a healthy portion into a cup. He didn't ask for any money but Ashe saw him chug the rest of the keg greedily, shaking off the look as she sat in a corner of the room. She pulled out the letter that had been presented to her, and reread the short note, hoping that it rang with truth.
I'm aware of your problem, dear, and I wish to help. Bilgewater – look for the crosshair.
The Widowmaker
The title alone had sent Ashe into a frantic rush to get to the inn. Perhaps she had beat the sender here, she thought to herself. Without warning a woman emerged from a cloak of nothing in front of her, smiling and dark. Ashe was taken completely off guard – with her insane vision, she had never been taken that off guard before. What in the world was in that mead?
"Hello Ashe," the woman purred seductively, placing herself uninvited across the table from her, crossing her bare legs sensually. Ashe was too surprised to be offended by this clearly inadequate address. Instead, she just mumbled, "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?"
The laugh that filled the room held no mirth in it, and as the bartender looked up an expression of fear quickly crossed his features. Everyone else in the bar had left but the bearded man just picked up another keg, downing it.
"Most call me Evelynn, but a select few regard me simply as 'Eve', and I believe you are worthy of addressing me as such," she purred as she picked up the tankard from which Ashe had been sipping, smelling it, and setting it back down with a wrinkle of disgust across her features.
"Alright… Evelynn," Ashe stated, hoping to offend the woman (when in fact it just made her smile) "Why did you send me that letter?"
"Because of your problem of course," she laughed, smiling. "You see, I'm rather the expert at ensuring the demise of certain… champions… and I've always seen Tryndamere as a challenge. He always seems able to evade my rather impressive ability to ensure death, but I feel that with your own rather impressive abilities, we can finally defeat him." Ashe was shocked at how forward this woman was. How dare she talk so easily of killing such a noble man!
A flash of hate appeared like a spike in her mind at that moment, and she remembered that cold night as Quinn and Trynd had kissed, trading little nothings. Anger burned in her like a cancer and she gripped her bow with a ferocity that chilled the entire bar. "Yes," Ashe responded, eyes dry and heart cold, "I believe you're right."
Evelynn laughed again, smiling at Ashe. "Great! Great. However, Trynd isn't the only problem. His new companion, this… Quinn."
Ashe cut her off before she could continue. "You just let me worry about Quinn."
Gragas, wanting nothing more than to forget what he just saw, chugged another keg before passing out on the counter.