Hello, new chapter here! XD
I'm amazed by your great review, I'm glad you like the story. It's a little hard for me to translate it, but you're worth the trouble.
Thank you so much.
With this on, things are about to begin. XD


Chapter 7:

Once reaching the village limits, Talon put Quinn down on the road returning to the institute. The young woman, embarrassed and numb with the cold, closed her arms over her chest in a vain attempt to warm herself up. Part of her regretted Talon's heat but she would rather die on the spot than admit it out loud. The assassin silently looked at her shivering form as she stumbled on the loose stones of the road. Rolling his eyes, he unfastened the cloak he was wearing and dropped it on the Scout's head.

"Here, put this on."
Quinn struggled for a moment to get her head out of the garment, and then looked Talon walk away in silence, tightening the cloak against her. She really did not understand what the assassin might have on his mind. Suspicious, she followed him clumsily, unaccustomed to her high-heeled shoes.

"Why did you do that?" She asked after a short silence.
He gave her a glance over his shoulder.

"Earlier in the tavern, why did you protect me?"
He shrugged and Quinn thought for a moment he would not answer.

"I did it without thinking," was all he deigned to say.
Quinn wondered what he meant, but asked no further questions.

She did not know what to conclude. Until then, she thought the assassin was lashing at her because she was a threat to him, and he saw in their rivalry a kind of game where the goal was to determine who was the best. She thought he was just trying to mark his territory, devaluing her to prove he was better than her; she was nothing but a peasant without talent who had reached her position simply because she had found a rare eagle by chance. But now she did not know anymore. She felt confused and too tired to think about it.

They reached the giant doors of the Institute of War in a heavy silence. Several armed guards were stationed outside the massive bronze doors, watching them approaching with disapproving frown. The two champions did not pay them attention, they had every right to come and go as they please as long as they did not cause any harm. However, when they crossed the door, a squad of heavily armed soldiers passed them in the other direction, heading towards the village, on a run.

"Looks like we left just in time," Talon remarked.
Quinn did not answer, watching the soldiers quickly walking away, worried for her friends who stayed behind. They might be Champions but the High Council of Equity did not easily forgive excesses like the one taking place right now in Gragas' tavern. Some were going to have a rude awakening.

The two Champions reached the great hall around which the Institute was organized. The different city-states represented in the League had their living quarter in the three floors of four wings surrounding the lobby. After walking up the massive marble staircase, Quinn had to turn to the right hall to go back to her apartment while Talon must to turn to the left hall to regain his. When it was time to go her way, Quinn hesitated, not knowing if she should thank Talon or go without a word. He gave her a sharp look, as if challenging her. She suddenly felt heat rise to her cheeks and was glad the corridors were so dark; the assassin would not notice her discomfort. Finally, she just handed him his cloak.

"Thank you," she said, not daring to look at him.
He silently took the clothing, without taking his eyes off her. Quinn rocked from one foot to the other before throwing a shy goodbye. Talon watched her walk away in silence, before looking down at his cloak from which arose the young woman's delicate scent.

After walking a few meters on her uncomfortable heels, Quinn paused to remove her shoes. When she reached her apartment, a few minutes later, she slammed the door and put her back against it, like she was afraid that Talon had followed her and could force it open. Valor, perched on the headboard asleep, looked up and gave her a surprised look.

"You don't know what happened, Val," Quinn said while locking the door. "The concert was really great, but I think Garen did not really like it ... But after that, the party turned into a brawl. Riven spilled beer on me and Talon protected me from a shattering mug and Malphite's fall."
Valor gave a little a purr.

"Yes, you heard right."
Sighing, the young woman went to her bathroom where she got rid of her wet and sticky dress while running a bath. Valor fluttered into the room and landed on top of a closet. It did not bother Quinn. It was not as if the bird was there to ogle her body. As she rubbed her skin vigorously to get rid of the unpleasant smell of beer, she told Valor the evening's events. The eagle listened quietly; letting out a squeak from time to time, like to show he was paying attention to what she said.

Once her skin and her hair got rid of the stench of alcohol, Quinn got out of the tub and wiped her body before putting on her short nightgown. She quickly gave her hair a combing in an attempt to order her mop before finally leaving the bathroom. She went to close the window that was still open before heading to the bed

"I'm exhausted, Val, it's been a bad day."
She thought about Talon. He had protected her and lent her his cloak to keep her warm. In what category could that fit? Was it a selfless act? It would be surprising from a Noxian; they rarely did anything without ulterior motives. Was this a new game, a new way to torment her? She did not know and for the moment she did not want to know. She shook the thought off her mind and slipped between the sheets, pulling the covers over her to protect herself from the cold.

"Good night, Val."
Valor perched in his usual place on the headboard and replied with a soft whistle. Quinn reached over to turn off the light and searched for a comfortable position on the mattress. She fell asleep almost immediately.

A few minutes later, while Quinn was already in a deep sleep, a figure stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room and walked to the bed. Valor, who had buried his head under his wing, straightened up and stared at the intruder with a piercing gaze. The man came forward within a moonlight glow streaming from the windows, revealing an angular face and deep hazel eyes fixed on the sleeping young woman.

"A bad day, huh?"
He looked up at Valor.

"I guess it's my fault."
The eagle answered with a barely audible hiss.

"You're probably right."
He reached out and stroked Valor's blue feather. The bird let him do without any resistance; he even raised his head toward the man's hand.

"It might make you laugh seeing me like that, right?"
A sigh was heard and the hand left the blue feathers to wander on the comforter. The man approached and looked down at the sleeping young woman. He watched her for a moment, admiring her relaxed face, her cheekbones, her parted lips, and her hair softly resting on her forehead. He reached a hand toward her and, curiously, Valor does not react. His for once ungloved fingers caressed the sleeping girl, pushing purple stray locks out of her closed eyes. Disturbed, she pursued her lips and slightly shifted in her sleep. It seemed to be a clue for the young man that it was enough. He slowly stepped back and walked away from the bed.

"I'm a fool, right?!"
Valor approved with a low purr and received a pat as a response. Without another word, the man walked to the door, pausing in front of the desk on which the diary was still wide open to a page that was occupied by a lonely line written in small sharp handwriting . A satisfied smile on his lips, he melted into the shadows and left the room.

* * The sands of war * *

Vessaria Kolminye sat, upright and stiff, on the High Councilor's seat throwing an icy glare at the Champions sitting in front of her. To her left, Meirin Windhelm, Noxus High Summoner, sat with her chin on her hand, containing her disappointment, while on the High Councilor's right, Amaya Sunbringer, Demacia High Summoner, was gently massaging her temples to try to smooth her headache. All three silently listened to Gragas relating the events that took place in his tavern the night before.

The High Council of Equity was called to decide punishments for the Champions involved in the brawl and it seemed not at all pleased by the situation. Although strictly prohibited on the Institute's ground and in the nearby village, fights would sometimes break out between Champions, mainly between Demacia and Noxus representatives, but this time it was not a simple little corridor brawl that the Council had to judge. The extent of the fight, the number of Champions involved and the damage done to the tavern made the case unusual and delicate. The three summoners would certainly have to rack their brains to find a suitable punishment.

Facing them sat the guilty, among them Darius, his brother Draven, Garen and Luxanna Crowngard, siting in the first row, only separated by the aisle in the center of the room, but also Tryndamere, Twisted Fate, his nemesis: Graves , Akali, Yi and even that poor Tristana who had been involved against her will. Many others were listening, more or less shameful, the tale of events. Lower-ranking summoners attended the audition, sitting in the box provided for them along the walls on each side of the room. Once Gragas had finished speaking, Vessaria Kolminye stared at the first raw of Champions, clearly annoyed.

"Did someone have something to add?" She asked dryly.

"It's his fault," threw Garen, hypocritically, pointing to Darius.
The Noxian glared at him.

"It was you who jumped on me for no reason, Crowngard," he groaned.
Both still bore the marks of their fight in the tavern: a monumental black eye and a broken nose for Garen, three stitches above his right eye, a split lip and a broken wrist for his rival. At Garen's discharge, he was not responsible for the fracture; Darius inflicted it to himself by smashing the table below which Teemo were hiding. The yordle took advantage of the confusion to make a blowgun with a straw and had used it to fire stink bombs on the fighters. God only knew where he had found them.

"You were groping my sister," Garen roared, jumping on his feet, apparently ready to resume their fight where it was left.

"For the last time," yelled Lux, fuming, "it was an accident. Olaf pushed me on Darius."

"That's true," reluctantly admitted the Berzerker, "I pushed the girl, but I hadn't looked where."
Garen turned on his seat to send him a glare.

"They are the real culprits in that mess," Darius said, pointing to the two Champions sitting in front of the first row, on chairs set in the middle of the aisle.
Teemo shrank on his seatr, having at least the decency to seem shameful. Ezrea, on the other hand, did not seem to regret anything. Kolminye turned to them.

"What have you to say for your defense?"

"I meant no harm", said Teemo. "I wanted some fun. That's all."
The High Councilor sighed in annoyance.

"What about you?"
Ezreal stared insolently at her.

"I have not done anything wrong!"

"Liar," roared Garen. "You were caught red-handed, throwing this popcorn shit on everyone. It was you who started the damn fight."
The blond turned his head to send the Demacian general an arrogant smile.

"Oh? I thought it was him by tainting your precious little sister!"
He nodded to Darius. The two generals threw him the same dark look, promise of upcoming torment.

"Enough!" boomed Jarvan's voice. "It's humiliating enough to be there, let's get over with that."
He was among the few Champions experiencing the shame of their lives.

"Ezreal wanted to spoil the party because I refused to accompany him," accused Lux.
A long silence followed before the blond, suddenly finding something to answer, bursts out laughing.

"Come on, babe, don't think so high of yourself. There are lots of girls better than you who are waiting a single wave from me to fall into my arms."
Garen grunted in fury, while all colors left his sister's angelic face. The rude comment had visibly hurt her.

" Then, where are they?" Darius taunted with an evil smile. "Why don't you bring one or two to the party, instead of slipping into the tavern by the kitchen door?"
It reduced the piltovian to silence. Darius turned to the High Councilor.

"I wouldn't be surprise if Luxanna Crowngard was right" he threw.

"Yeah," approved Garen who seemed to have difficulty admitting sharing his rival's opinion.
Vessaria Kolmirye sighed again.

The Council listened to what the Champions involved had to say before dismissing them, ensuring that they would be quickly made aware of their decision. Summoners present were allowed to stay for the deliberation. Once the room was empty, Kolminye put her head in her hands.

"I can't believe it."

"Seem like any of us can," Meirin replied, sighing.
She glanced at Amaya who do not bother to deny it, her face speaking for her. She had a vague wave with her hand like she was trying to chase a fly, and said:

"How will we sort out that mess? It's not possible to know for sure who did what. We can't just randomly hand out the usual punishment, hoping to find the right culprits."
Vessaria agreed with a nod.

"I think we should start by deducting all involved Champions' bonus to repay Gragas," proposed Meirin. "No problem with that, they all broke something during that damn fight."

"Wait for the estimate of the damage then we will take part on their bonus," agreed Vessaria. "I think we may suspend Ezreal and Teemo for some matches. Everyone seems to agree that they are responsible for this mess."

"Suspension without bonus," Meirin added.
The other two agreed.

"I've had enough," suddenly said Vessaria in an annoyed voice. "The purpose of this organization is to bring peace to Valoran, but how can we do it if our Champions spend their time hating and fighting each other in the hallways. What an example it must be for the people!"
Amaya ran a slender hand through her long blond hair.

"Garen was always quick to protect his sister," she said.

"And hating Noxian," added Meirin without animosity.
It brought a smile on her Demacian counterpart's face.

"Not all Noxian, I swear."
The brunette raised an eyebrow.

"I think a certain redhead really interests him."

"Their love life does not interest us," said Kolinye, offended.

"Quite the contrary," threw Meirin straightening on her chair. "It could serve us."
The other two looked at her blankly.

"What if we push them to get to better know each other?"
There was a moment of silence and then Vessaria seemed to see what the Noxian meant.

"I see," she said with a smile. "As long as they are Champions and they are at the Institute, we have authority over them. They have to do what we ask them to. And we can ask them to form teams that suit us and force them to see each other in an out the Field of Justice."
She remained silent for a moment before continuing, immersed in her thoughts.

"The Solstice is coming soon. We can organize an event that will serve as a cover for this reconciliation attempt."
She nodded, like she was convincing herself it was a good idea.

"Yes, it deserves a try."

"And how will you form their teams?" Interjected a summoner, in the back of the room.

"You will help us," said the High Councilor raising from her seat. "Summoners know what is going on in their Champions' mind; they are able to feel even the most hidden of feelings. We can use it at our advantage, to form the most suitable teams, especially for Demacia and Noxus Champions. What do you think about that?"

"We all have sworn never using what we can see in the Champions' minds against them," protested another summoner from the room.

"True," admitted Vessaria. "But we do not want to hurt or blackmail them. We just want them to learn about each other and, maybe develop some sort of bonds. Sometimes a sacrifice is necessary for the good of the greatest number, do not you think?"
The Summoner who had spoken seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head, clearly taken aback by both the idea and the proposed argument. Amaya thoughtfully stroke her lips with her fingers.

"It's hard to say. This is double-edged. Either they will accept and form some sort of alliance, but I do not think they will, or they will spend their time hating each other and causing more disaster like the one we had last night. I think we will have a rough time."

"As usual!" Meirin said with a predatory smile.
Vessaria Kolminye gave her a reproving look before questioning her. The Noxian brunette became suddenly serious and took the time to think before answering honestly:

"I think there will be no peace between Demacia and Noxus as long as one of them doesn't collapse before the other, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. If it can save Valoran a little time, then so be it. It will be less family torn apart or unnecessarily traumatized or maimed young peoples".

"And less dead!" interjected another summoner from the room.
Meirin looked up at him and gave him an indulgent smile, the kind of smile reserved to a spoiled brat. She knew this man, Nao Pang Shin, Ionia High Summoner and one of Noxus' fiercest opponents. Lacking the same wisdom as some of his Champions, he spent his time defying Meirin and launching unkind remarks. He had never come to term with the war between Noxus and his island. Meirin simply ignored him, like a bug not deserving her attention.

"The dead are dead, Nao, they no longer suffer," she replied in a sweet voice. "It's living that we should take care of."
It had the merit to silence the Ionian.

"Well," concluded Kolminye. "We have our little Solstice Festival to organize".
The smile on her lips indicated that she had found a new hope. Unfortunately for the unsuspecting Champions, it also indicated that they would soon have a very rough time.


I think you already guess what was was coming at our favourite Champions. XD