ELEVEN

LOVE STRUCK

Quinn and Valor needn't have waited long for the other champions, as not long after the elderly merchant had wished the young scout luck did her fellow Demacian's begin to appear. The first was a sight that couldn't help but bring a smile to her lips, Sona, the famed mute mistress of the musical arts. She had attended only one of the minstrel's performances since she had taken up residence in the city of Demacia itself. But that one performance alone had been enough to blow her away. She could well believe that in the interview the Journal of Justice had held with Swain, he had spoken only the truth when he said, "Her music tears at the soul, her silence at the heart." The other woman nodded gracefully to her, her feet floating a few inches from the ground as always when she entered the league. Quinn nodded back, grinning despite herself. In her brief time in the league, she'd learned a lot of the various roles a champion could fill, and which of the three paths on the field they were best suited for. She still had much to learn according to the Summoner who'd taken the time to teach her a little before her first match, but she did know that Sona would be sharing the southern path with her today. She couldn't help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of getting to work together with such an acclaimed celebrity, even if it were only on the fields of battle. Sona however did not seem nearly as excited, her hands idly checking the tuning of her floating instrument as her eyes watched the other runes on the raised dais for the next champion to arrive. Soon enough a much smaller silhouette than either of the women began to fade into view, that could only be one person. Poppy, the diminutive, but iron willed ambassador hailing from Bandle city, the abode of the Yordle's. The blue skinned woman nodded up at the pair of them as she arrived, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's presence, and unbeknownst to Quinn; her attire.

"Hello, are the three of you prepared?" She intoned in her usual rather cold tones, Quinn always thought the girl was a tad too controlled by her beliefs, and when she had met her in the castle of Demacia, she found it very hard to hold a conversation with her. She had never once even looked like she was going to smile, let alone know what happiness was like. Quinn sometimes wondered what it was that had brought her to be that serious, but those ponderings were for another time, and she gave Poppy a terse nod, Sona copying the gesture as Valor screeched his assent, only Quinn knowing him well enough to detect the doubt in his call.

"Good. Let us show the Noxian's a bit of my kind of diplomacy." She rumbled as she moved from the dais at a swift trot, taking the northern path of the three, there was no doubt in Quinn's mind as to what the Yordle woman meant, the giant hammer left little room for debate.

Of course, that was probably the whole idea. The armour, shield and of course, war hammer almost the size of its wielders entire body was an outfit that made her distinctly difficult to argue with. Quinn was simply glad that the negotiator was on their side, if she went to Noxus, chances are half the independent towns in Valoran would have bowed to them by the end of the week.

Sona tapped Quinn on the shoulder, making sure it was not the one Valor sat upon to avoid the mistake the Summoner had made. Quinn turned and the musician nodded to the south, asking if she was ready to get moving. Quinn was about to respond when the summoner finally made his return

"Hello again. Get moving. I don't why you're hanging around on the dais."

"I was waiting to see who the other champions were."

"Poppy, Sona, Jarvan the fourth and Xin Zhao, happy?" That made Quinn wince internally, the prince was going to be here? What if he wanted her to report on how her mission was faring, what if he wanted her to come back to Demacia. What would she say? Though that matter would have to wait for now, as she felt her Summoner impelling her forwards with his now commonplace rudeness.

"And for you to get back. You're supposed to be my eyes in the sky here."

"No. I'm meant to control you. So... Good girl for waiting, but get a hustle on, Sona and her Summoner are waiting."

Quinn growled to herself, but finally nodded to Sona, who was watching with a concerned frown; she smiled a little at Quinn's confirmation and set off down the path, a faint ripple of air heralding her levitated form. Quinn followed shortly after, easily closing the distance with her. Her eyes narrowed as they reached the second monolithic magical statue, looking for any signs of the champion's they'd be facing. Her attention was swiftly grabbed not by any enemy, but once more the grating voice in her head.

"Okay, I know you're new at this. So, don't try and act on your own, you don't know what you're doing and you'll just get yourself killed. Just listen to me. All right? All right."

"I *am* an elite soldier you know." She snapped back at Stefan, frankly tired of his condescending nature nearly as much as she had been of Draven's self aggrandizing, violently narcissistic act in the tavern. At least Draven hadn't been inside her head, though she shuddered to think what that would be like. Maybe having Stefan was better after all.

"But are you an elite champion? No? Didn't think so, so shut up and do what I say."

But then again, maybe not.

Quinn found herself imagining how the weasel-y little summoner would fare if it was him down here, and couldn't help but grin at the image of him becoming a pincushion in seconds. However it seemed time for reflection was well past due, as Valor leaped from her shoulder, flying high into the air before diving down towards the bushes that fringed the bend of the path. A horrifically familiar man stumbled out, his guard knocked away by the birds strike.

Draven.

"Quick! Get him while he's vulnerable!"

And here she was allowed to hurt him all she liked. Maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after-all. Sona had begun to play a melody, the magical nature of her music filling Quinn with strength as she rushed forwards, putting all of her training to use as she lifted her legs up, slamming a heavy, momentum powered drop kick square into Draven's chest and jumping back, utilizing his torso as if it were springboard, as she flew back through the air, Draven stumbled back, trying to escape the assault from both Quinn and the magical, pain filled notes Sona was flinging his way. It seemed he had left the dais early, without bothering to wait for any kind of back up. Just the kind of mistake Quinn expected the egocentric bastard to make, she landed in a roll, turning and rising at its end, raising her crossbow and finally letting loose. Letting loose all the pent up anger she felt towards the man who had threatened her life only the day before, when he had thought her only a royal guard. Of course he still didn't know that was her... Or did he... She looked down at herself and felt her blood turn to ice, even as Draven's own blood fled from his body from the holes she had opened, the poor, overwhelmed Noxian champion falling to the ground with a bolt firmly lodged between his eyes, only for the magic of the summoners to burn away his body in a shimmer of gold, the process of reincarnation already beginning back at the opposite dais to where she had arrived.

She wasn't in her own clothes. She was still dressed in the uniform of Swain's personal guard. Now she knew why Poppy had given her such an odd look.

How in the hell was she going to explain this?

"Hah hah! It worked, I knew it would. Good thing that dumb bird of yours isn't *entirely useless, hey where are you going? The rank and file are just arriving!" Quinn paid no heed to her summoners voice, nor did she notice as a row of diminutive purple robed creatures stalked past her, their eyes blazing with hate as they readied themselves for their impending death, and that of their equally small enemies. No, Quinn had run behind the huge stone tower on their side of the bend, stripping off her hooded coat and hurling it into a section of tall grass behind it. Now she stood in only a padded, sleeveless leather jerkin and her tight fitting leggings. Hopefully that'd be enough, hopefully the jacket is what marked out the guard and neither Jarvan nor his servant Xin Zhao would see. That she could get Valor back to his coming children with little trouble.

For a time, the match passed as one would expect if they'd seen many, the champions stuck to their designated lanes, Draven leered evilly at Quinn as they fought, making it clear he knew her secret, but as long as his older brother was Swain's right hand, she doubted that he particularly mattered in the scheme of things. Quinn managed to avoid any of the temporary deaths so common on the fields of justice, largely thanks to Sona's mystical ability to heal her allies with her beautiful sonatas. But as the match wore on, champions begin to branch out into other paths, and those champions who's summoner deigned never to tie them to one in the first place burst from the thickets surrounding the paths to take their foes by surprise. It seemed to Quinn that the Demacian side were most definitely going to win, she had already torn down a tower with the aid of Xin Zhao when he joined her in the south for a time, Draven and his backup, the foul un-dead creature known as Urgot having been dispatched so swiftly thanks to the spearman, neither the champions nor their summoners had, had any time in which to react. Best of all, she had yet to once encounter Swain, even though she knew the Tyrant was here on the field with her. Sadly, not even that peace could last.

Quinn had been spending a time simply cleaving her way through the blue feather clad dwarf like creatures in the top most lane, holding it in Poppies place as the yordle returned to the summoning dais to heal some egregious wounds she had taken from her last engagement with the dreaded master chemist of Noxus, Singed. Who Quinn really hoped she wouldn't have to fight yet. In fact she hoped to put it off for as long as possible, just as she did for a fight with Swain, though for entirely different reasons. Though it seemed her hopes in both regards were about to be dashed, as Stefan, her summoner's voice once more intruded on her thoughts

"Quickly! Into the river! Jarvan, Xin and Sona just caught a few of em by surprise!" Quinn immediately moved to obey, having momentarily forgotten that Swain could be one of those currently engaged in the water. But as her boots began to fill with the silt laden liquid, kicking up splashes with every step. She was the heart breaking truth, it was indeed Swain, and it seemed her was on the verge of death. Limping desperately away from Jarvan as Urgot did his best to harry them, willingly sacrificing his own chance of escape so as to allow Swain a better chance. His clawed mechanized hands crushing Sona beneath their weight and sending Xin off his feet with one fired like an arrow, even as a summoners fire engulfed him, his four, spike tipped robotic legs slowly beginning to fail beneath him, the light dying from both his natural but long unseeing eye, and mechanized, glowing green lens.

"ATTACK!" Quinn only stood and watched as Jarvan rushed forwards, his telescopic pole-arm yanking him forwards as it caught on a hurled banner, her eyes widened as he swung, not for concern of Swain. But rather Beatrice, the poor little raven seated on Swain's shoulder with not nearly enough time to escape decapitation along with her master. Logically, she knew that Beatrice would revive along with Swain, just as she had likely done dozens of times before, but her thoughts were more on Valor than anything else, the thought of him having to watch his beloved die was frankly, nearly as heartbreaking as it was likely to be for the bird himself.

But Valor wasn't ready to have his heart broken, not today. Breaking every single rule of the summoners code, and every single law of the fields of justice; Valor flew right for the combatants, but instead of hitting Swain or Beatrice as Jarvan likely expected him to, the bird went right for the prince, his claws landing upon the side of his neck, gouging deep gorges of blood in the royalties flesh.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING!? YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO ATTACK PEOPLE ON YOUR OWN TEAM!"

It took Quinn a few seconds to collect herself enough to respond, mostly just staring in abject horror as the prince went down, Valor furiously pecking at his forehead and leaving another bloody mark there before taking to the air once more, landing not upon Quinn's shoulder, but rather Swain's, joining Beatrice on her roost and lovingly nuzzling her as he stared pure malice at the prince of his home nation. Swain himself only stood staring, his injuries forgotten as for once, the tactician was caught entirely off guard.

"Those rules only apply to whoever the summoners synched with, you synched with me... Not Valor."

Stefan's response rang in her mind, her entire body finally joining her body in freezing over. "I don't care! He broke the rules! The match *is* over. We're pulling you, Jericho and the prince out and replacing you. Have fun explaining to Jarvan why your stupid bird just attacked him. "

Valor had attacked the prince himself

Now they were traitors

Her dream had come true.