(A/N) A fitting title, considering what's been happening recently :P
Quinn is quite an important character in my eyes. Not only is she damn well fun to play, but she was the first champion to be released when I started playing League of Legends. That's probably rather an important factor effecting my liking of the character :D
That, and well... I do find her kind of pretty ¬/¬
Anyway, in the lore Quinn is an explorer and writer, having visited numerous areas within the game world and met various people. I do like this idea of a scribe, who spends their time mapping the world and living in the wilderness.
However, this doesn't mean that it has no drawbacks. For months out in the wild, Quinn would have no company save for her eagle Valor. This fic will hopeful show how she spent her time out and about, as well as how she kept herself occupied on missions with no one to speak to.
Funnily enough a fic I never finished back in January had the same name as this. Although it was a BB fic with Kokonoe and Tager in it D:
This fic is another attempt at exploring new concepts. It might work, might not, and I've been having a lot of trouble writing fics recently so I can only hope eh? :)
WARNING: Lots of spelling errors, OOC characters, plot-holes, a shoddy romance story, an attempt to write a commentary from a single person's perspective, and a lot of incorrect bird facts and survival tips (I'm a Londoner, not a Falconer!). This'll end badly...
Writer's Block
The fox didn't suspect a thing.
Part of her saw this as an excuse to commence the deed, but she was still reluctant. This creature had sealed its own fate by trying to investigate her campsite, but wasn't she technically doing the same thing by staying in this woodland?
The fox dipped its muzzle into the smouldering remains of the fire, flipping powdery logs over curiously. He was probably after the exact same thing as her, the smell of flames drawing him in to the possibility of relief.
Hunger.
Quinn reached for her quiver and gently caressed the fletch of a crossbow bolt, her fingers tempted to pull it out and load it for the kill. Her eagle Valor seemed to have similar thoughts, sitting silently on her shoulder and eying the naive young fox intently. No matter how hungry he was, he would never attack without her permission.
Be it a blessing or a curse, she couldn't tell.
In the end it all came down to fate. The creature had sealed its fate by wandering into her campsite uninvited, and that was that. From her concealed position in the trees with a thick layer of foliage shrouding her actions, she began to lock a bolt in place. She never enjoyed taking a life, especially that of innocent animals. The fox just wanted something to eat: It may have had children it needed to return to with its scavenged loot and plunder.
But in the end, she had no option. The soft click of the bolt being put into position caused the fox to flinch, its head swinging about to try and pinpoint the source of the sound. Valor leant forward and stared at the fox, keeping Quinn's trembling arms steady as she lined up the shot.
Survival of the fittest.
She squeezed the trigger of her crossbow and launched a bolt at blinding speeds towards the fox. The creature barely had time to realise where he was under attack from before he was pegged directly in head, sending his body to the ground like a sprawled out ragdoll. Quinn sighed as she lowered her weapon, finding peace in the quick and painless death she had granted the poor thing.
"We've got dinner, Val." She smiled warmly, preening her eagle's feathers. The eagle nodded ever so slightly before leaping off and taking flight, circling their meal defensively. Despite the seriousness of their situation, Valor always saw life as a fun game. At times it was rather endearing, and thankfully this was one of those rarities. "Keep an eye out."
Quinn holstered her crossbow and leapt from the branch. She was around five metres from the ground, but she was able to land in a smooth roll to weaken the impact. It hurt her legs to do such a daring thing, but her mind longed to start cooking. Valor seemed to be having similar thoughts; prodding the fox with his beak in the manner a hungry child would suck their thumb.
"You're not getting any bites until it's cooked, got it?" Quinn grumbled, wagging a berating finger at the cheeky Valor. The eagle backed off submissively, understanding that while they were equals, Quinn was still in command. She didn't like seeing Valor in such a sad condition, and she scratched the underside of his beak playfully. "Don't worry Val, it'll be really tasty. I promise."
Well, dad always said her cooking was good.
Right before his first heart attack...
The fox's expression was that of shock really, likely fear from his last moments. Who wouldn't be scared if they were out alone, knowing that they were being watched but having no idea where from? Quinn had experienced that terror long ago, and it was one of the many reasons she was thankful for having Valor around to look out for her.
Crouching down alongside the fox, she tore the crossbow bolt out of his hide and wiped the blood off against the grass. Arrows were a limited resource out in the wild, and she was at least two days away from the nearest settlement. She slipped the bolt back into her quiver and began to reconstruct the campfire.
Dusk was approaching, she needed to hurry.
She'd been camping within this woodland for around two weeks now, the explorer within her wishing to pursue dangerous goals with little assistance. While most Demacian soldiers would spend their holidays with friends and family, she would instead journey the wilds and detail the landscape. Somebody had to charter the vastly unexplored land of Valoran, and she saw to it for both entertainment and enlightenment.
Quinn had been writing a book detailing her experiences, noting survival advice and the local flora and fauna one could expect to find in the different countries of the island. She hoped that one day this book could be put to good use, allowing many more to explore the world safely.
Currently she was lurking about the lowlands surrounding the Freljord Mountains. They were surprisingly temperate in contrast to the bitter cold of the highlands, with various mammals and birds living happily together in the unexplored wilderness. The ecosystem was truly amazing, the area having had little human interference over the past century.
A pity that it will never last.
Officially she was here for a scouting operation; her superiors wishing to learn about the Freljord in case war was to ever come. It saddened her that the Demacian government would suspect such horrors from the Freljord, despite their ruler Ashe being a woman of peace. There would be no war, and it was wrong to spy on one's allies.
But she was just a soldier.
She had no say in this.
The fire eventually burst to life, bathing the rapidly darkening clearing with a warm light. Valor tip-toed to her side as she held the fox in her arms, dying to have a nibble as she began the rather gory process of skinning it with her dagger.
The eventual result of her labours wasn't exactly the most attractive looking dish in the world, but it would certainly suffice. Valor greedily snatched a small chunk of the fox before flying up to a nearby tree, wishing to eat privately whilst keeping vigil over the land. Quinn would've usually scolded him for such an impolite action, but she was simply too hungry to care. Leaning against the trunk of the oak Valor had deemed his home, she took a nervous bite out of a slice of meat.
Tastes like chicken.
Relieved by this, she speared a much larger piece and gnawed on it roughly. She hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, and she was glad to have something tasty for a change. She'd gone without food for days before, with the only salvation being the disgusting meat of Bilge rats.
"What do you think Val?" She asked her companion, looking up to the trees to see him happily pecking away at his dinner. Her cawed joyfully, a bit of it stuck to the tip of his beak. "Told you it'd be tasty."
As they continued to eat in silence, Quinn slipped her hand into her pack and pulled out the book. The cover had become worn and beaten over the harsh summers and winters of their journey, but the text was still legible all the same. Sticking her fork in her mouth she placed the book onto her lap and spread it open, flipping through the pages to reach where she was up to.
Section Eight: Freljord Lowlands, Chapter One (Flora and Fauna)
She'd never start writing this part before investigating for at least two days. This was one of the most important chapters of each section in her opinion, detailing what was edible and what was not. Man is three meals away from insanity, so it only makes sense that food and water would be a priority for survival.
Still licking away at the juices left on the fork, Quinn pulled out her trusty quill and ink to commence writing. Twisting her wrist in a circular motion to prepare for an extended period of writing, she began the chapter.
"The Freljord Lowlands are unique in the variety of life that they sustain. In contrast to the freezing mountains of the Highlands covered in the previous section, the temperature is extremely comfortable and supports numerous mammals and birds. There are few risks when it comes to fauna, with scavengers such as the Demacian Striped Fox comprising the majority of the animal population."
Quinn spared a glance at the meat that sat above the fire, feeling guilty once again. The fox wouldn't have confronted her, it would have only ran if she gave it a chance. Still, she comforted herself knowing that the Striped Fox was actually overpopulating numerous forests in Eastern Valoran, and that by doing what she did she may have saved a lot more lives.
"The real threat in the Lowlands is the persistence of poisoned flora. The Ionian Snaphawk and the Avarosan Beetlepoint are the most deadly of these plants, characterised by their glowing pink colour and their barbed stems. I would recommend staying in the forest clearings to avoid these plants, for they tend to grow close to the bases of bushes and trees."
Suddenly realising where she was, Quinn quickly swung her head around to investigate the trunk she lay upon. No plants were there, leaving the trunk bare and exposed much to her relief.
"To remain safe and comfortable within the Lowlands, all that is truly required is a source of fire. The flames will ward off marauding animals and provide much needed warmth, for at dusk and night the Lowlands can reach a freezing -2°c even in the Summer."
She was starting to careen off the topic of the chapter, like she had so many times before. It was irritating how she had so much information to dispense into text, because it made her want to write it all out at once without proper structure and planning. There really wasn't much point in even dividing sections into chapters because of her messy writing style, but the publishers would insist if the book was somehow approved for print.
Valor flew down by her side with a full belly, not needing much food to keep going for extended periods. He likely flew down for some warmth; the night air possessing a sharp chill that Quinn had only just noticed. Chuckling at this mishap, she tugged the fork out of her mouth and noticed her breath turning white in the air. "Better get the sleeping bag out, don't you think Val?"
He gave her the birdy equivalent of a raised eyebrow, feeling like his intelligence was being insulted by her words. Smiling at this silly reaction, Quinn put the book to the side and began to fish into her pack. Eventually she managed to pull out the sleeping bag, which was large and puffy to contain as much heat as possible. Valor hopped onto her shoulder as she slipped inside, letting only her arms and head be exposed to the elements.
She still had a book to write after all.
Valor looked on as she continued to scribble notes and tips onto paper. Alas, like a waterfall in a drought the flow slowed and slowed until finally she stopped.
What next?
She didn't expect this to happen so soon, but after writing a few paragraphs she had already come to an issue. She had absolutely no idea what to write next, despite having all of this information flooding her mind. Leaning her head back and staring at the canopy above, she pondered for a moment.
All of the previous chapters were completely finished, and she lacked the information required to move on to the next five. There was really only one other thing she could write about at this point, providing her thought process didn't kick into gear.
Behind the Author.
Quinn wasn't entirely comfortable with this concept, but it seemed most of the bestselling novels of Demacia had a brief biography about the writer and their thoughts at the end. She always felt it was quite a narcissistic thing to do, but maybe readers would be interested in the story behind the author? Would you trust a guide without knowing who wrote it?
Flicking through to the end of the book, she wielded her quill with utmost efficiency and commenced.
"The writer's name is Quinn..."
... What else?
She'd really just dug herself in further now, with ideas for both the Freljord Lowlands chapter and the Behind the Author chapter conflicting like warring tribes. Quinn bit her lip in frustration, tapping the feather of the quill against her nose. She wanted to try and keep the reader entertained at the very least, and few would be entertained by basic information. If she wanted to keep them reading, she'd need to go a lot deeper.
And a lot more personal.
But what was there to say? Her personal life wasn't that interesting, for she spent the majority of her time exploring and staying with Valor. There weren't many people she spoke too, nor were there many people she had shared experiences with save for her eagle.
"Once, my companion Valor tried to court a collection of swans..." She pondered aloud, turning to Valor as if to ask for his input. He glared at her rather irritably before squawking, likely annoyed by the use of the word "Tried" rather than "Succeeded".
"Any ideas?" She asked, petting his head affectionately. He leant towards her gentle hands as she did so, but his lack of response indicated that he was just as dumfounded as she was. Grumbling irritably, she tried to find some inspiration.
She had read a novel once where the Author section was essentially written in the same style as the book. She personally found it very engaging, with the writer being presented as a character alongside numerous others. Adopting that style would be intriguing, but she had never written a story before.
Save for a few as a girl.
She and her brother would always write childish stories, detailing their heroic adventures together as they fought off darkness and baddies to protect the innocent. Looking back at it, it was quite endearing how protective her brother would act during these little stories, even if he did so just because she was a girl.
Over the years she'd grown to accept the demise of her brother, but that didn't mean that the scars had healed. She would often experience nightmares reliving that fateful moment, where her own cowardice and inaction lead to his death. Her parents had insisted that she was not to blame, but they weren't there when it happened.
They didn't see his face.
She could write something about him, and honour his memory. This book could be devoted to his life and death; what he had achieved and what he could've achieved. It would comfort her soul knowing that others could learn of such a brave boy's acts.
No.
Caleb wouldn't want that.
Her brother was a very private boy, restricting his life to school and his sister. He wouldn't want her to mourn his demise forever, in fact he'd probably prefer that she forget about him and move on. Sighing deeply she scrapped the idea entirely, moving back to the drawing board.
He hated books anyway.
Quinn's body had stiffened and tightened considerably over the last few minutes, forcing her to close her eyes to try and relax her muscles. Sad thoughts always made her tense; it was the reason why she was so adamant in protecting others and providing happiness to the world.
She hated how she got emotional so easily. She was a soldier of Demacia, meaning that duty came before feelings. How could she do her job properly if she was sad all of the time? Clenching the quill tightly between her fingers, she came to a conclusion.
Vent out your frustrations.
What better thing to do than express your worries and fears in text? She could only confront these problems if she consolidated them and visualised each one individually. She would not let these shadows haunt her any longer, that's for sure.
"I have many fears and worries in my life, and they have plagued me for eternity. It's certainly not useful to have a fear of judgement when you're trying to write a book!"
That much was certain. The main reason she avoided making friends was because she feared being judged. She could never tell people the truth about her, and it left them to their own devices. She always thought that her colleagues in the army thought lowly of her, seeing her and Valor as more of a nuisance than an efficient fighting duo.
But to be honest, why did she worry about what they thought? Why should she care about their opinions? They could just do their job, and she could do hers. Her brother had once said that even the closest of friends hate each other deep down, so why fear?
"However, I shall change my ways."
"I shall confront my fears."
Valor squawked happily at this revelation, glad that the cascade of writing had finally begun once more. Quinn licked her lips in concentration as she wrote unblinkingly, never stopping to even check for spelling errors.
"It may just be an inherent shyness that lead to my preferred distance from others, but I do question this. While it is true that I find it much easier to focus on my lonesome, that doesn't mean that I dislike the company of others. While I fear people, I still enjoy conversing with them. There are men and women out there who I despise, and there are men and women out there of whom I approve of just like anyone else in the world."
"But if there's one thing I fear most, it is love."
Quinn exchanged looks with her eagle, wondering what he thought about this. Despite hurtling towards her mid twenties, Quinn had never actually been in a relationship before. She had enough self-esteem to say that she wasn't particularly ugly; it was her reluctance to form relationships that held her back.
That didn't mean she never longed for it.
"It is a powerful feeling, and it can warp someone's mind. It can cause great evil and turmoil with its power, yet at the same time... It can mend and protect."
"I have experienced the latter myself, after all."
Once again the thoughts of her brother plagued her mind. He had died purely to protect his young, innocent sister from harm. He did it out of love, and to be honest she would have done the exact same thing were the tables reversed.
"I've never experienced love between a man and a woman not tied by blood, but that doesn't mean I've never felt for someone. I've had my childish crushes, and that's exactly what they were: Childish. How could anyone fall for a man such as Jar-"
She pulled back the quill abruptly and snapped a nervous glance in Valor's direction. He still stared at the book patiently, totally engrossed by what she was writing. She had almost revealed it after all, and not even he knew that.
"Val..." She whispered, total seriousness filling her tone of voice. Valor turned to her with the cockiest expression a bird could ever possess, which was strange really considering how cocky eagles looked by default. "You're... Not thinking what I think you're thinking...?"
Valor nodded cheekily, much to her chagrin. "D-Damn birds can be perverts sometimes..."
Girls have their secrets.
"Just go to bed already Val, jeez." She growled, tossing the book to her side grumpily and turning away from him to rest. "Don't you want your beauty sleep?"
Valor would usually object, but he understood that he may have taken a step too far. Squawking neutrally, he hopped away and flew back up to his tree branch to give her some space. Quinn tugged the sleeping bag close to her, the chill of the night air stabbing at her exposed neck.
She can't believe she was about to write that.
Jarvan the IV was royalty, and in her experience not the nicest of men around. He was rough and tumble; not the brightest around and dedicated to war as if it was an obsession. While he certainly wasn't the coward she expected, his thirst for the blood of Noxians was foul indeed. In her opinion, he would be the cause of the next Rune War if he was allowed to take the throne of Demacia.
But for some reason, she felt something else for him. Not hatred, not friendship, to be truthful not even love.
All she felt for him was an undying sense of pity.
When she first met him, she could feel it in his eyes. As he gave her orders, his glare was filled with eternal pain and suffering. He had seen death, and it had changed him for the worst. And despite the show of bravery and honour he gave, he knew what battle had done to him.
Never-ending blood and violence was killing him inside, yet all he could do was fight on. He was afraid of what Noxus was capable of, but at the same time he was adamant in protecting the innocent just like her.
He just couldn't embrace the alternative.
It was hatred deep down that he just couldn't control. Legends said that the royal family could never sympathise with Noxians, and it was that very truth that would lead to the nation's undoing.
And all Jarvan could do was sit back and watch.
Perhaps it was some sort of motherly instinct inherited from the family, but she just wanted to help him. She wanted to hold him close and reassure him that everything would be fine. Maybe all he needed was something like that?
A woman to call his own.
She could always dream.
Curling up into a ball for warmth, she longed for Valor to come back down. It was strange really, but she would feel a lot more comfortable with him being next to her rather than up in the tree keeping watch. As if hearing her thoughts, the eagle descended from the branch and landed next to her.
She looked at him apologetically, realising that what she had said to him earlier may have hurt his feelings. Reaching out for him, she scratched the underside of his beak gently. "Sorry about that Val, I just..."
The eagle shook his head and sat down next to her, his feather coat being more than enough to keep him warm. Glad that he was still with her, Quinn finally fell asleep with a smile.
He just needed a hand to hold.
They were one the same when it came to that.
X
(A/N) Dear lord, absolutely NOTHING happened in this fic! D:
That certainly didn't go well :/
If you ask me, the issue was that I only had a rough idea with what I was going to write, and it kind of just fell apart as it went :O
Oh well, content is content eh? xD
