Thanks for your support, I love you all. ^^
Now time for the party, and I'm sorry, there will be no drugs, I fear XD
But there will be Rock'n roll, alcohol, a little sex hidden in a corner aaaaaaaaaaand ...
Talon/Quinn.
Enjoy. ^^
Chapter 6:
At seven sharp, Quinn heard a knock at her door. With a weary sigh, she got up and left her diary; open on Talon's message, on her desk. She wondered what she should do. She had no desire to keep it or to mutilate her diary to get rid of it. The only thing she wanted was to be left in peace. Unfortunately, Lux had not seemed to understand that when she insisted on picking her up for the party. Quinn did not really want to go, but the blonde was probably right about one thing, it would change her mind. She was going to have some fun without thinking to Demacia, or to the next day's matches and even less to Talon.
Quinn opened the door to discover Lux, wearing a white dress with light blue piping under a thick coat fitted with a fur collar. A fur muff covered her hands. Behind the blonde stood Garen, wearing a brighter look than he had after their defeat. He had dropped his Demacian officer s uniform in favor of a black trousers and white shirt that made him look younger than he was.
"Come on," said Lux with her usual cheerful smile, leaping into the apartment. "We will be ..."
She stopped when he saw Quinn and raised an eyebrow.
"Are you going to go like that? You seem to wear a potato sack."
"Well ... thanks!" Replied the falconer, looking down at her clothes.
It was true that she had not made much effort. She took random clothes in her wardrobe, not even thinking if they fit together. She did not want to worry over that. However, Lux did not seem to share her opinion.
"Don't tell me you have nothing else to wear!"
Without asking permission, the blonde opened wide the closet next to the bed and began to rummage through its contents.
After throwing several outfits on the bed, Lux finally found a blue dress, a pair of black stockings and matching underwear and shoved them into Quinn's arms, pushing her toward the bathroom.
"Come on, puts this on, you'll see, you're going to feel better."
Quinn was far from that opinion when she came out of the bathroom ten minutes later. She was not used to wear this kind of clothes and felt uncomfortable as much as ridiculous. But Lux did not give her the luxury to complain.
"Great, it fit you really well," she cried seeing her friend. "A little makeup and you'll be ready."
With no time to protest, Quinn was driven to her desk where the blonde sat her on the chair before opening the drawers to find a lonely tube of red lipstick and a little blush.
"We really need to go shopping together," remarked Lux putting her findings on the table beside her.
Quinn did not dare to point out that the dress and make-up Lux had found were the result of their last day of shopping together, let alone admit that she probably would not have bought them if she had been alone.
Finally, the trio left the Demacian area of the Institute over twenty minutes late. Before leaving, Quinn had opened one of her windows for Valor, if he wanted to come in and out and had said goodbye to him advising him not to come home too late. The eagle had returned her gaze with a little purr that seemed to say "speak for yourself". Quinn did not feel particularly comfortable in her dress, deprived of Valor and her crossbow, but Lux and Garen's company was enough to reassure her. She only had to stay with them and no one would bother her ... and hope that Talon was not present.
The tavern Gragas held, when he was not throwing barrels on the Fields of Justice, was located in the small town that had developed near the Institute. Some houses, various shops, three inns, open for the curious who came to witness the public matches, and two taverns. That was about all there was to see. But it was enough. The village was a walking goal for the Champions, tired of living between the walls of the Institute. It even happened that some Champions spend a few days in one of the inn before returning to their usual quarters.
Although it was still early, the party had already started when the three Demacian opened the door. The tavern itself was nothing different from the others, if that was its size and attendance that were unusual. It was not uncommon to see a group of Champion spending a few hours drinking and having fun, which usually attracted a lot of curious from all over the region. But tonight was different. Gragas' party was reserved for the Champions and them alone. Several tables were already occupied while on the improvised stage at the back of the room, Karthus warmed his voice while his musicians were preparing their instruments.
Lux rushed on the first free table she saw, causing Garen and Quinn to follow behind her. As they were sitting, a waitress in bunny outfit came to take their order, informing them that the concert would not begin until at least half an hour. She walked away to another table. Lux vanished for a moment to greet those of hers friends who were already here. Quinn looked her, wondering how many friends the blonde had within the Institute. Probably a lot. She must say Lux was lovely, smiling and nice with everyone, even with the Noxian. It was probably helping. Quinn did not feel well with anyone but Valor.
Lux came back after ten minutes, a large smile on her lips. Seconds later, another waitress brought them their order. The blonde looked up to thank her and froze instantly, looking at her with large round eyes.
"Riven?"
The other two looked up to see the Exile, tray in hand, dressed in a rabbit outfit, like all the other waitresses.
"What are you doing here?" Lux asked, confused.
"Everyone is not lucky enough to have the support of their native city," replied the young woman, in a tone colder than necessary.
She glared toward a table a little further into the room, where Draven laughed while his brother seemed rather bored, and went away without another word.
"An evening without Noxian, it would have been too good," Garen sighed.
"You said so," a voice whispered in his ear.
He instinctively backed away and turned his head to see Katarina leaning over him, her long hair falling over her shoulders like a bloody veil. She gave him a sarcastic smile and Garen blushed in spite of himself, which seemed to satisfy the redhead.
"I bet I make you regret those words before the end of the party", she added, taking place at the table next to the Demacian's.
Garen just grunted something under his breath.
Feeling a gaze on her, Quinn turned her head and crossed Talon's hazel eyes. He was sitting between the Du Couteau sisters, too close to her. She turned away, trying not to shiver and suddenly found very interesting contemplating Yorick thoughtfully strumming his guitar.
"It was a good match this morning, don't you think, kitten?" Talon threw in a mocking voice.
Quinn did not deign to respond, but she saw Lux turn to the assassin with stern look that could have said "Beware, I'm keeping an eye on you". Talon's only reaction was an openly mocking sneer. Quinn chose to act as if she hadn't seen or heard anything and plunged her face into the huge mug in front of her to drink a long sip of her beer. She rarely drank, but she made exception for this kind of party. And if alcohol could help her to ignore Talon, she was not going to deny it.
The room filled gradually. Quinn was surprised to see some Champion she would never have thought to see at that kind of party, like Vladimir and Zac. At a table near the bar, Twisted Fate was even ruining Ryze, Gangplank and Lucian in a poker game that had probably nothing loyal. The three Du Couteau were joined by Zyra, who seemed on good terms with Cassiopeia. On the other side of the room Karma, Irelia, Akali and Yi were siting, calmly talking, throwing suspicious glances towards Draven and Darius, which Vladimir had joined. Quinn saw him drink with Draven, holding a small glass containing a red liquid which she did not want to know the nature of. Darius looked away, as if he was looking for a way to escape his two companions' insipid chatter.
A loud noise drew the girl of her observation and she turned her head to see Jarvan collapse on the chair by Garen, while Shyvana was sitting between Lux and the Prince. Quinn did not know if the half-dragon had taken this place because it was the last free or if she had chosen it to keep the Du Couteau in her field of vision. She suddenly realized that while Shyvana was watching the assassins, Garen was free to keep an eye on Darius and Draven. Even during those parties, the bloody war between Demacia and Noxus did not seem to subside. It was depressing.
Around eight, when the room was nearly full, the lights went out at once, causing a murmur of surprise and excitement among the partiers. The only lights to stay lit were those which overlooked the bar, behind which Gragas was busy, and three spots on the stage. Then there was a small explosion and a cloud of smoke rose above the stage while a deafening sound was heard. Garen clapped his hands over his ears, cursing Lux having managed to drag him here, while his sister began to hop on her chair applauding the musicians who were appearing in the veil of the smoke. The music started immediately, deafening, yet Karthus' voice was heard without difficulty. Quinn saw from the corner of her eyes Garen tear small pieces of his paper towel and stuff them into his ears to reduce the noise. It made her smile.
The concert lasted a little over an hour. One hour of unspeakable torture for Garen who let out a long sigh of relief when the music stopped and the musicians began to put away their instruments. However, it seemed he was the only one to welcome the end of the concert with satisfaction, many voices were heard in the room, cheering for the musicians and claiming other songs. To Garen's relief, however, they simply thanked the audience before leaving the stage and sit in the room.
The atmosphere was joyful and explosive. Partygoers were laughing and joyfully chatting, some going from table to table, calling to one another across the room, drinking, eating and relaxing, forgetting the matches and the League for a few hours. Alcohol flowed freely; Gragas offered everyone a tour of his famous Icewine at the end of the concert and many mugs generously filled with beer went back and forth between the bar and the different tables. Many Champions present already appeared in a cheerfully drunk state. The food was not forgotten and heavy dishes loaded with bread and cheese, meat and potatoes, sausages and beans, accompanied every tray.
In the corner, the poker game resumed, and the pleased smile on Twisted Fate's lip showed it turned in his favor. A little further, Braum had engaged in a hard but friendly arm wrestling with Tryndamere, under Ashe's half amused half disapproving look. The frost archer seemed by far the most sober of the three. Persistent rumors in the Institute's halls claimed that the young queen would soon give an heir to the Freljord's crown. It was hard to believe seeing her narrow waist, but if it turns out that she was actually pregnant, zero doubts Sejuani and Lissandra were not going to take it too well.
Garen had withdrawn his improvised earplugs and was quietly chatting with his friends when a popcorn rain suddenly fell on his shoulders. Surprised at first, he glanced sharply around him but saw no one who seemed interested in their table.
"It is already turning to drinking session," he commented, trying to remove the sticky gains from his hair. "We should go back to the Institute".
"It just started," protested Lux.
With a grunt, Garen got up to clean the mess and get rid the popcorn from his hair. He glared toward the Blood Brothers' table where Draven laughed like a madman looking at him as he passed. It did not improve his mood.
During Garen's short absence, things really got out of hand. Several other tables were victim of the same attack, and alcohol and excitement helping, tension rose rapidly to the point of no return. Protests were heard throughout the room, accusations rang out from all sides, and some threats were launched. Not far away, Lux suddenly saw Tryndamere grasping Olaf by his shirt, seeming to want a fight. She jumped up and rushed toward them.
"Please, calm down," she implored. "We all came to have fun."
The two Nordic men looked at each other and the barbarian king let the Berserker go with a disdainful snort. Lux smiled at him, noticing Ashe's hand resting on her husband's arm. She thanked the archer with a nod when Olaf suddenly pushed her with a violent shove.
"Mind you own business, woman," he threw in a venomous voice.
Lux gasped and suddenly found herself between solid arms, half sitting on muscular male thighs. Raising a bewildered look, her blue eyes met gray green ones.
"Darius ... I'm sorry!"
He seemed as surprised as her.
"There's no harm."
He helped her get back on her feet when a roar of rage covered the hullabaloo of the room.
"Don't touch my sister, filthy Noxian."
Before Darius and Lux could understand, a strong fist fell on Noxian General's face, throwing him against the table where the poker game was held, shattering it in his fall.
"Garen," cried Lux, angrily. "He did nothing wrong."
He pushed her behind him without listening her. Darius stood up, wiping the blood that flowed from his split lip with the back of his hand. Blood also flowed from a gash above his right eye.
"Crowngard," he growled with a murderous look.
Garen raised his fists, but not fast enough to prevent the Noxian to jump on him and administer him a right that could have knocked a horse. It was Garen's turn to waltz into a table, the one where Quinn, Jarvan and Shyvana still sat.
It was like a signal for the brawl to begin.
Tryndamere grabbed Olaf again and pinned him against a wall while Braum caught Ashe to hide her safely behind the bar. Jarvan jumped up to rescue his best friend, but Draven jumped on him to protect his brother and both rolled on the floor. Shyvana rose to help the prince but a serpent's tail flew between her legs, making her stumble. In her fall, she knocked a passing Riven's tray spilling the mugs on Quinn.
"No way!" she growled, "It always ends like this."
She rose in the uproar now ravaging the tavern. Mugs flew in every direction, food lined the walls, fragments of chairs and tables were used as weapon, Gragas had the wisdom to ban weapons from his establishment. Everyone was fighting for one reason or another, sometimes without a reason, in a brawl like Quinn had never seen before. She had witnessed drunken brawls in taverns before but nothing that looked like that.
Dripping with beer and food, Quinn made her way through the battlefield to the toilet but when she opened the door, she saw Arhi and Wukong busy with something other than war. Embarrassed, she closed the door; they did not even notice her presence.
"What a lovely color," a voice whispered in her ear. "Don't tell me you've never seen this kind of activity before".
She shot an annoyed glance at Talon.
"Unlike someone, I'm not interested in spying my fellow Champions."
A sarcastic smile appeared on the assassin's lips.
"Don't tell me you're still a virgin."
"I don't see how that concerns you."
Talon seemed particularly amused by the turn of the conversation.
"That's what I thought," he quipped.
Quinn turned a burning glance of hatred and contained anger to him.
"What," she snapped, "you think nobody want me, right? You're wrong; it's me who don't want anyone. So leave me alone!"
With that, she turned with as much dignity she could in her wet and shapeless dress, beer and food dripping from her hair, trying to hide that stupid pain beating in her chest. She had not walked three steps when she was suddenly seized by the waist and pressed against a wall. Barely a second later, a mug shattered just above them, raining a shower of broken glass and beer on Talon who had covered her with his body. He squeezed her harder against him when Malphite hit the wall near them and collapsed along the wall inadvertently bombarding them with small rocks.
"It's hell in there", growled Talon, indifferent to the blood beading from various small cuts on his face. "Time to go."
He ran a hand under Quinn's knees and effortlessly lifted her, stepping over Malphite and jumping from the first open window, leaving the others to fight each other. The only thing Quinn thought at that time was moving her arms around the assassin's shoulders and burying her face in the crook of his neck.