Faith – Chapter 2

The logistics of our journey to Demacia prove simple. Volibear can load enough provisions to feed a village. We've allowed him access to the castle, under the supervision of Braum and Gragas. I pray their combined mass doesn't sink our foundations.

To carry Sejuani's soul back from the Shadow Isles, Anivia's gifted us one of her eggs. Apparently it should operate as a vessel, provided the subject enters of their own free will.

Tryndamere's energetic and experienced enough to manage crises while I'm abroad. Anivia's good with details. They should work well together.

So far, so good. Unfortunately, my plans are built on thin ice.

Tryndamere questions my wisdom as we descend into the gloom. 'I get you want to play nice, but Quinn sold you out. Why not just eat Valor, chain Quinn to Volibear, then peel strips off her until Jarvan caves?'

'We'll need her influence to safeguard us. Otherwise, we'll disappear, mid-voyage.'

'What influence do you think she has? Do you buy Sejuani's mad theory that Jarvan's grooming her? Queen Quinn, just say it out loud. Queen Quinn.'

'A name can be changed. Officially, they could use "Catherine" to go with Jarvan's mother.'

'That's wrong enough to be true. Demacians are into family... but women fucking women? Shucking oysters? Those are a bridge too far.'

'What does "shucking oysters"…? Ugh, forget it.' I hope it doesn't involve knives. That's too close to home. 'Even if Quinn's not a candidate for the throne, she's Jarvan's token peasant and a decorated war hero. People would listen to her.'

'She can barely speak.' Our footsteps echo as the dungeon walls grow damp. 'I'll just assume we need Quinn because you need Quinn. Do you need Valor? We don't know what he's capable of.'

'Quinn's our only source of knowledge regarding Valor. Until we know otherwise, we should treat him as her weapon. He may be more, but we can't waste time on what we can't foresee.'

'That eagle's got shifty eyes. There's every chance he'll act on his own.' Tryndamere winks. 'You know what? I'll clip his wings. You claim ignorance. Use him as a hostage.'

'We can't use them against each other. They might as well be twins. I can't think of a quicker path to betrayal.'

'They can talk without words. I think betrayal's guaranteed whether you're kind or not.'

As we near the foot of the stairwell, I hesitate. 'You really don't think I have a prayer, do you?'

'Not if you don't press your advantage.'

'What advantage?'

'You know what I mean. You're the one thing Demacia can't offer. Let her think she has a chance to keep you.'

My breath catches. Romantic flight is an alluring fantasy, the promise of love, peace and liberty for those who can endure the guilt. Yet, escape is impossible. Every morning you wake up in your new life, your new shadow lengthens.

I say, 'Quinn isn't stupid. She knows we can't be together.' The thought of lowering my guard, and exposing myself to her passion, fills me with dread. I may be the one to lose control.

'What she knows and what she feels are two different things. If you're serious about rescuing Sej, you may have to draw blood.'

'I'm sick of compromise and sacrifice.' With an actress's turn, I march to the door. 'From this day forth, we…'

My sinews bulge as I heave across two massive bars.

'Just…'

A mighty push.

'Win.'

I gaze triumphantly into the corridor. The theatre's over.

Tryndamere looks askance, like I've just sunk an entire keg of mead in front of him. 'Okay, sounds like a plan. Are we good?'

'Yes,' I lie. 'Now mind what you say. Her ears are better than ours.'

We descend. There's no more debate. All I can hear is the clanging of Tryndamere's armour. Because of Quinn's value, we had to use the deepest oubliette in our castle, the same place I kissed Sejuani for the first time. Hopefully, the memories will deter me from drooling over Quinn.

I pound on the hatch. 'Quinn? It's Ashe. Are you decent?'

I hear scuffling, like a puppy's tail sweeping the floor. 'Yes!'

Tryndamere smirks. 'Disappointed?'

'Not as much as she'll be.'

The cell opens.

We've made her comfortable with torches, blankets and extra furniture but our stone walls remain oppressive. You can still see the chains. Amidst all the trappings of icy power, stands one little farm girl, eager to please.

Quinn glows with pastoral charm, or maybe her skin's a little raw from exposure to the cold. She's loosely dressed in a clean tunic and britches from our stores. I can see the bathtub we provided, yet her locks remain a filthy purple nest. I know she's coy regarding her natural hair colour but I hope she's washed from the neck down. Others may be less indulgent of her coarse edges. Not everyone will be drawn close enough to know her…

I yelp as Tryndamere knuckles my ribcage. Feeling embarrassed and helpless, I watch as he takes the lead. 'I'm Tryndamere, king of these parts.' He offers a hairy hand, like a yeti's paw.

She gingerly takes it. I feel the crunch when he squeezes. 'I… I'm Quinn, a scout for the kingdom of Demacia.' Her back arches in retreat. She totters like a flagpole in a storm.

Tryndamere steadies Quinn by grabbing her shoulder, which only makes her panic worse. 'The Freljord welcomes you, though I guess my formidable queen has already given you the grand tour. She prefers the kind of women you can't bring home.'

Quinn blinks with confusion. 'Oh… so you're…?'

'Fine with it? Hah! When I'm not cleaning up her mess.' I've imposed on him a lot, in peace and war. He gets a loving roll of the eyes, but I'll spare him a comeback. 'We don't share spit or blood, only this country, but Ashe is all the family I've got left, and I'll break your legs if you break her heart.'

I step in before Quinn runs away, leaving a dismembered arm in Tryndamere's grasp. 'Thank you, but I can fight my own battles, dear husband.'

'Ah, this ain't fighting. I'm showing I care.' He grins at her like a wolf. 'See? Quinn gets it.'

Frantically, she nods. I shoo him away. 'Please, one Volibear's bad enough.' My poise restored, I say to Quinn, 'Tryndamere knows everything. We can talk openly.'

She covers her torso. 'He…? No, that's fair. I tattled first.'

'You did.' I shuffle closer. 'Having said that…' I mouth a warning at Tryndamere then throw my arms wide. 'I'm really happy to see you again.'

Quinn skips, then lunges, wrapping us in a tight embrace. Her tiny, powerful body, hard as a rock, encircles me like a golem's fist. I pat her back and lightly kiss her temple, sisterly gestures to express boundaries but she won't let go. Desperate, I signal Tryndamere for help. He obliges. 'Are girly shows normal in Demacia? You guys brought the wrong entertainment.'

His vulgar comment dislodges Quinn. She casts evil glances in his direction while I recover. Quinn's growing, little by little. Soon, she'll do more than push me off guard. I have to be careful, no more hugs.

I wonder. Is this how Sejuani feels about me, sharp edges within a soft shell? My depths are bare to her, while I feel so blind. I truly miss her. Without her challenging opinions, raw perception and unfailing acceptance, I'm seeing the world through one eye. Despite Sejuani's poorly buried, and sometimes adorable, jealousy, I think she'd grow to like Quinn. I hope so because, in a strange way, Quinn's part of me, the manifestation of my weakness.

Quinn asks, 'You seem distant. Is everything all right?'

I have to stay present. 'We've got issues. I'll come to them. You just…' I smile, genuinely flustered. 'I'm a little overwhelmed.'

She beams. Why do her teeth sparkle like that? Is there something in Demacian lakes? 'Oh, I feel the same. You know, I didn't think I'd get to… hold someone again.'

I hear Quinn's pent-up longing. So her crush remains, and it's mutual enough that I'm feeding it. I have to be responsible. 'I know. It's always a struggle, but you will find others.'

Tryndamere says, 'You're a fine-looking lass. You'll have plenty of rough and tumble if you keep your head up. Ashe did all right with her sour puss.'

Quinn's not assured. 'Um… thanks, I guess.'

We have to move on. 'Quinn, I'm always happy to see you, but you're trespassing on our lands without consent. What are you doing?'

'It's kind of personal.'

I hope she's not here without Jarvan's blessing. It would weaken our hand. 'You've given up the chance to be coy by not revealing yourself.'

'I'm sort of on reconnaissance but I'm really here as… penance, I guess?'

'You're in exile?'

'Exile's too strong a word. I can go back when I feel ready,' Quinn says, 'Though His Majesty will expect an account of my growth.'

Tryndamere says, 'A rite of passage, when a boy journeys through the wilderness to become a man. I didn't realise the Demacians went for such.'

'Only highborn, typically,' says Quinn.

Sejuani's prediction grows likelier. Quinn is undergoing a knight's trial, perhaps even a queen's trial. I say, 'This punishment seems like an honour.'

Tryndamere butts in. 'Duty's an old way to dispense with trouble. You send a rival on a dangerous mission, watch them die then praise their courage. You survived enough plotting, Ashe. Come on.'

I bristle at his contradiction. 'Our corner of the Freljord isn't exactly hostile. Surely, Jarvan would send her to Noxus if your example had any relevance?'

Quinn says meekly, 'Um, you've both got a point. I'm sure His Majesty wouldn't off me quietly but he's really disappointed. I got a massive lecture. He said I was "irresponsible, insolent and immoral" for "brazenly fornicating" while "on display to the world". After he calmed down, he… said he was wrong to leave a child unsupervised, which felt even worse.'

I say, 'You're not a child. You're old enough to kill for him.'

'Ooh, he set me off a treat. I shouted that I was a blooded woman who deserved acknowledgement as one. I must have repeated myself a dozen times while he watched with that jousting expression of his.'

Narrow stare, diagonal brow, pursed lips, endless chin. 'I know it well.'

'It was up all the time when he was in your palace. It was awkward. Even Xin Zhao got a bit weary.'

Tryndamere says, 'Jarvan seemed all right at first, like, unfriendly but relaxed enough. By the close of day two, his eyes were sunk right through to the back of his head. Something was off.'

To me, Jarvan was a brick wall. 'I didn't notice.'

'You had your face full of Quinn, here.'

She may blush. I've no dignity before Tryndamere. 'That I did. Was our company so tiresome?'

Quinn eagerly draws the subject away from our lovemaking. 'I don't think so. He was arguing with Lux. At one point, Shyvana had her by the throat. If it weren't for Garen keeping the peace, we may have seen blood.'

'Is that why Shyvana slept outside in dragon form?' I'd thought it was to keep us out.

'Yes.'

Tryndamere says, 'This is dangerous information. Why are you telling us? If this gets out, you'll weaken Demacia.'

Quinn grows defensive. 'No, you wouldn't… you couldn't use… I'm loyal! I swear I'm loyal!'

His challenge was a mistake. She'll never co-operate as a turncoat. I calm her down. 'Shush, it's okay. Sorry, Quinn, we weren't implying you...'

'No…' Her blinking slows. Quinn wavers between petulance and ferocity. 'There's no betrayal. I fight for the Demacian people and I fight for justice. Why should lovers pay for their secrets while schemers avoid rightful judgement! I'm fed up of it! We hide our bickering and our suffering and… we sweep everything under the rug and…' She runs out of language. 'I don't care if people know Lux oversteps or Shyvana bites or…'

Silence.

Before I can reply, Tryndamere seizes my arm. 'Ashe, a word?'

As I formulate an apology, Quinn says, 'If you have to go then go. Sorry for babbling, Ashe. You've listened enough.'

Quinn's due better. She deserves a pretty wife and a pretty farmstead, rather than this. My response is feeble. 'I wish the circumstances were different.' She looks at me, hopeful as a lark ascending. 'We'll be back soon.'

Quinn's heightened senses are preternatural, so we creep to the foot of the stairs. Tryndamere and I huddle, my face close to his armpit. He gives off little odour, just rock, salt and rust. According to him, I smell of mushrooms growing on wood.

'What is it?' I whisper.

Tryndamere says, 'I've been thinking. Jarvan wouldn't allow Quinn to sulk within earshot of you if there were questions about her loyalty, so her flapping tongue means one of two things.'

'Only two?'

'Keep it simple. Either she's a grown-up who's baiting you, or she's a kid who's throwing a tantrum. Pick one.'

Sometimes, Tryndamere's cudgel draws blood. 'You're asking me to damn one of us. If Quinn's trustworthy then I'm a cradle snatcher.'

'Pretty much, and you have to accept you fucked a kid and fucked her up. Whether you feel bad's up to you, but whatever you face, you'll be facing it with a damaged little girl who might let you down or stitch you up when you need her most.'

I become very small. 'Do you think I should feel bad?'

'We've both done worse. I'd say that's up to Quinn.'

She'd only make excuses for me. 'What do you think of her?'

'Not impressed. She's like any teenager, can't see past her own beak and sings without any thought of the consequences. At least you know when you're being a prat. If she were one of us, I could knock some sense into her, but she's Demacian. I think she'd cause you more trouble than Sej.'

'You're being unfair. I cause more trouble than both of them.'

'Attagirl. If I had to choose, I'd put a saddle on Sej and ride her all night long. Just looking at Quinn makes me go soft.'

'Yes, you've gone far enough.' I tug on his arm, leading us back. 'Am I really the only person who finds her attractive?'

'Well, I like my women to have tits and arse, normal stuff. Quinn looks like a boy.'

'We're not just…!' I give up. 'You don't think she has pretty eyes and lips?'

'Her eyes are creepy and I don't see lips until they're round my cock.'

'You're such a philistine.'

'Why, for not fucking little girls? Ask in five years-time when she's got some experience and flesh, then I'll judge.'

'You haven't seen her thighs.'

Tryndamere brightens. 'Oh, now you're talking. Remember Jarvan's dragon-whore?'

He knows I do, the bastard. 'Shyvana. She had a name. Quinn even said it.'

'Yeah, the half-dressed slut. You had some competition for once.'

'I'm going to kill you.'

'Tell me something I don't know.' Tryndamere has a faraway smile, as if he's contemplating a beautiful secret.

I'm disturbed enough that I change the subject. 'We've no choice. We have to gamble on Quinn.'

'I get it. You don't have to concede anything. Only promise me that you'll keep what I said in mind.'

'I will.'

Quinn was running circles in our absence. Her eyebrows are bright with sweat. Even when still, she's restless. I recall myself as a child, learning how to control all those unconscious, hyperactive little movements. A leader can't fidget.

I say, 'Quinn, I need your help.'

'Anything, Ashe!'

Tryndamere scolds her. 'Don't ever say that up front. You'll end up a liar, a villain or dead.'

She glares back. 'Or a Demacian.'

'You're Demacian already, kid, whatever Jarvan asks you to prove.'

Tryndamere's point is a kind one but insensitive. I say, 'We're losing focus. Do you know Kalista?'

'The Spear of Vengeance?' Quinn looks worried. 'Of course, there are temples to her in Demacia.'

Tryndamere and I react in unison. 'Really?'

'To some, she's the purest form of justice. I think Shyvana looks up to her as a female role-model.'

I ask, 'What about Jarvan?'

'He doesn't approve of Kalista. His Majesty says people can't aspire to good without failing once in a while. He… erm… jokes that he's damned for eternity by her standards.'

I don't think he's joking. 'Would Jarvan help us to defy Kalista?'

'Maybe not openly, but you'd have to ask him. What is going on?'

'She has the soul of a woman I love.'

'Oh, the person you mentioned?'

'Yes, and it's my fault.' Quinn stumbles to console me. However, Tryndamere's presence divides us like a sword. All she can offer is, 'I'm so sorry.'

'Thank you but I've wasted enough time on self-hatred. I'm putting things right.' I reach the point of our conversation. 'We don't have any means of reaching the Shadow Isles but your country has an armada.'

'Not a mobile one.' Quinn scratches her head. 'We have big, lumbering warships. You need a scouting vessel. Don't get me wrong. I'll help, for sure, but His Majesty can't send a whole crew to save one person who's not even Demacian.'

'What if the person was Demacian?'

Quinn's eyes bulge. 'A… a Demacian? Your love was a Demacian? But… who?' She looks utterly heartbroken. I recognise her pain. Quinn wants our transnational affair to be special, a chance miracle that she can remember fondly for the rest of her life.

I know because I'm thinking it as well. 'Quinn, I'm sorry, but we're talking about you.'

'Me? What are you planning?' She looks about for reassurance. 'Ashe?'

'You're my prisoner. Jarvan would give anything for your safe return, yes?'

'What? I'm just a nobody. His Majesty looks out for me but if I prove more trouble than I'm worth then…' she trails off.

'Jarvan sent you here, so he's responsible. You're part of his entourage, and your age and upbringing will attract sympathy. There's no way he could abandon you without losing face.' I appeal to my status. 'Believe me, Quinn, I've been leader of this tribe for over ten years. I've made enough mistakes. I know how these things work.'

'Won't he assume we're conspiring after… you know?'

'Is our affair public knowledge in Demacia?

'No.'

'So how could he act on it without causing a scandal?'

Quinn rubs her arm. 'I… I don't know. You're the politician. Like, you're going to drag me to Demacia and His Majesty's going to suspect us anyway, so I might as well play along.'

'I'd rather not force anyone but you've heard what's at stake.'

'Yes. Even if I didn't owe you for my betrayal, I'd…'

'You don't owe me anything.' She's already paid in blood. 'I took your honour, Quinn. We're more than even.'

'It wasn't enough.' Quinn's plain, girlish whimper feels mournful, possessive and seductive, innocence begging to be stolen, over and over…

Tryndamere clears his throat. I catch his gaze in silent thanks and say to Quinn. 'Our time together was precious but we have to move on.'

Quinn watches with open agony, like she's forcing herself to look into the sun. 'Okay,' she says. 'Give me a mission. What's our goal? Who is your love?'

This is it. I'm in free fall. Once I tell Quinn, she may tell Jarvan. He will know something my people don't. With that information, he could force my compliance or expose my treacherous heart.

I can't say this directly. The fear is too much. 'You may be questioning Volibear's presence.'

Quinn's perceptive enough to draw conclusions. 'No! How could…? I thought you were enemies! You asked for our help! Ashe, tell me you're lying!'

Tryndamere steps in. 'Our conflict ain't some lovers' tiff. I wouldn't have asked you to spill Demacian blood otherwise. Our whole way of life is an abomination to the Winter's Claw, and they'd wipe us out if they could. Whatever Sej feels ain't enough to keep her marauders off our lands, only enough to keep Ashe chained up in a harem.'

I go blank with rage. 'What the fuck do you know?! She…' My voice breaks, 'Would never do that. She wants an equal, not a slave. I'm the one who…' Shielding my face, I recall everything. I recall Sejuani's tears. I recall as I forced her to the ground with my knife and, 'Hurt her. She saved us all and I… poor Sejuani…'

Tryndamere guides me to sit against a wall. Through my shame, I hear him take over. 'She's been like this a while. The sole reason I don't veto her mission to rescue Sej is that we need Ashe. We really need Ashe.

'Whatever her flaws, that emotional wreck is a genius. Did you know the Winter's Claw had three times our standing army to begin with? Ashe beat them back so hard, she changed them. After centuries of promoting idiots through duels, they threw their lot in with a clever, charismatic outrider. Yeah, Sejuani's a pain. I'd rather she weren't leading our foes, but Runeterra needs a functioning Ashe more than a dead Sejuani. Help us through this and Ashe will, one day, surpass Jericho Swain. She may never be my wife but I'm proud to be her husband.'

Amazed, I look up through my fingers. 'Really? Do you really feel that?'

He laughs. 'Of course! Why else would I put off my vengeance? Why else would I look at your spotty backside and think of the Freljord? Ashe, babe, I told you this at our wedding. You never did listen to me.'

I smile. 'Bring a woman down, why not? I feel remiss enough.'

'Take it as a compliment. I think Sej likes you because you're the only girl more impossible than her.'

'There's truth in that.'

'I bet.'

While we chat, Quinn is unreadable. I'm scared at how quickly she can change from ingénue to operative. I reach out. 'I never wanted this war, Quinn, but Sejuani pushed it on us both. Love isn't enough. I have to prove myself in battle or…' Please let there be something else. Please.

Quinn looks at me like I've grown an extra head. 'She's killing your people. She's killing you. How can you love her?'

'Many reasons but what good is reason? If we could change, you and I would have an easier life. We could love men. We could love our kin. I could even love this warthog.'

As if Tryndamere would leave that opening. 'Ooh, if I'm a warthog, I might have a chance with…'

Quinn ignores him. 'Would you change?'

'Would I? Before… yes, without hesitation… but I have too many wonderful memories to change now.'

'Same here.' Those two little words are like a prayer, solemn and thankful. 'Despite everything, she gave up her soul to save yours, right? Would we have met otherwise?'

Tryndamere says, 'No. Things were bad. Volibear and I make a habit of crawling out of the grave but I don't think Ashe has that luxury.'

Quinn says. 'That's all I have to know.' She kneels before me. 'Your Sejuani crossed enemy lines to bring us both to life. A servant of justice can do no less. Demacia's wings are at your disposal.'

Why does Quinn frame everything as an obligation or a contest? For such a little girl, she can be so male. And why say "disposal"? That's a horrible choice of word. 'I'm grateful but…' I yelp as Tryndamere crushes my shoulder. 'Sorry. There's no "but". I'm grateful.'

Quinn looks up. 'You needn't worry.' Her eyes flash. 'Danger's my calling.'

The bustle of our palace is a comfort upon leaving our dungeons. Tryndamere grumbles. 'What a mess.' I nod in agreement. 'I'm guessing she was a virgin? She's hung up on you, badly, and you're still sweet on her. That's not the end of the world but you have to play her like a flute. If you lose your grip, she'll go mad with jealousy and ruin everything. She might even kill Sejuani.'

'Quinn wouldn't. She's…'

'Demacian. Remember, Sejuani's evil by their standards. You have to consider the possibility Quinn will do "what's best" and you'll have to choose between them.'

'I care for them both but I'm in love with Sejuani, not Quinn.'

Tryndamere looks amazed, as if I'd said something outlandish. 'Ah…' His frown softens. 'I forget sometimes. You're not that experienced.'

'What? You said yourself there were rumours. Make up your mind. If I'm as promiscuous as you claim, I'll have the respect I'm due.'

'How many girls were you serious about?'

I ball my fists. 'You know I couldn't have been serious!'

'None before Sejuani?'

'Do you think I don't understand love because all I had was private and fleeting?'

'I don't think you know the long, visible kind.'

'And you do?'

'Maybe not personally, but I grew up with my tribe.' His expression clouds with grief. 'I saw families and relationships evolve. I saw them outlast wandering eyes, tragedies, children… bastard children… while you were tramping through ancient ruins, getting your fingers wet, and scheming your way to power.' Before I can reply, he says, 'No criticism. I respect your balls. You did what you had to. The point is you've never known love as a journey, just a shelter.'

Tryndamere's no priest or scholar but loss teaches wisdom, and few people have lost so much. 'Do you think I'm capable of the long, visible kind?'

'Eh…'

'That's enough. I'll find out for myself.'