The roads turned from stone to dirt, and the scenery from buildings to fences and large, empty fields. Lux followed behind her at an irregular pace, slowing down and then suddenly speeding up, and it made Quinn begin to second guess the excursion. If Lux was so unsteady on her feet, it might have been better to take her home, instead. Even she was feeling lightheaded, having drank a little more than anticipated.

"Where are you taking me?" Lux said. "If you wanted to take me somewhere with no witnesses and kill me, you could've just done that at my house – or yours." Lux gasped, and then brought a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles. "You're homeless! I forgot it wasn't just me that went boom. Don't worry, though, I'll take you in."

Quinn took larger strides, increasing her distance from Lux, but the girl took it as a challenge, and broke into a run.

"You can be my maid," Lux shouted, chasing after her. "I'll pay well!"

As soon as the fence changed from wattle to simple horizontal logs, Quinn veered off the road and jumped it.

"I wouldn't be a good maid," she said, turning around to rest her elbows on the fence.

"You wouldn't need to be," Lux said, stopping in front of her.

"My place back in Demacia must have a centimeter of dust layering the floor."

"They gave you much too big of a place for you to keep clean on your own," Lux said, creating a small floating light with a wave of her hand. "But it didn't work."

"What didn't work?"

Lux took a step back, eyed the wooden posts blocking her path, and then put her foot on the lowest of logs, before clumsily swinging her other leg over. As she cleared the top, it became apparent she was in for a fast descent, and Quinn preemptively reached out. Lux didn't notice the gesture, and when she lost her balance, she stumbled into Quinn's arms.

The light that had been hovering patiently above her winked out, and they became shrouded in darkness. Quinn could hear Lux's breathing, and feel the warm breath on her neck, and the scent of Lux's hair, and rather than ask if Lux was okay, she was content to simply hold the girl. It was more of an awkward support, than a hug, but the contact was pleasant and comfortable.

For too long, Quinn had been deprived of physical contact – the deathlike grip of the Unwilling Passenger the other day not counting – yet today she had felt human more than she had in weeks. Gragas, an exception, maybe, but there was Ashe's hug, and even the conversations she'd had in the past few hours had given her insight into what a normal life might have been like. So maybe it was okay to savour the moment, because she wouldn't ever know when the next time might come.

Humans were social creatures. Not as much as Yordles, who needed constant social interaction, but a human who'd forgotten the touch of their parents, friends, and lovers would find that insanity wasn't far to follow. They were, as the saying went, out of touch with humanity.

Lux took her time to pull her weight off Quinn, but they were both somewhat inebriated, so the slow reaction didn't bother Quinn.

"Buying your loyalty," Lux whispered, answering Quinn's earlier question. She stepped away and looked out into the field. "Isn't this trespassing?"

Quinn swallowed, and shook her head. "It's just a field, nobody will care. Besides, we can run if we're seen."

"You can run. I've had enough of that. I'll just hide myself with magic."

"No fair. Can't you just hide both of us?"

"But you don't like magic."

"I don't mind yours."

Lux took another step into the field, reigniting her orb of light. "Oh?"

"Well – I mean – not as much. I can put up with a little bit of it, if it's to save me from a farmer with a pitchfork."

The perfect location was only a few minutes' walk from the road. It was a small grassy mound, which offered a three hundred and sixty degree view of the sky and the surrounding field.

During the few steps to the top of the hill, she was reminded of her childhood. There had been a small hill behind the school, much like this one, though as children the hill seemed much larger. During the summers, they would play king of the hill, pushing each other off and enacting dramatic death scenes as they rolled down the slope. At the start of winter, it became the tobogganing hill, and when the snow began to melt, they would pour water on it, and it would become a slippery, insurmountable monster to fight in between classes.

"What's wrong?" Lux said.

Quinn looked around. She had been standing still too long. "Here," she said. "This works."

"I still don't get it. What are we doing?" Lux said. "Stargazing?"

"Something like that."

The grass was dry, but still, Lux was wearing a dress, so Quinn took off her jacket and laid it on the ground for her to sit on. Making an unnecessary comment about chivalry, Lux sat down. It took them a minute or two to get comfortable, but they couldn't have stumbled across a better place. The grass was short and thick, and the hill had no rocks or bumps, making it easy to quickly find a relaxing position on the incline. If she had any complaint, it was the cold breeze, but that came hand-in-hand with the perfect view of the night sky.

"Is this what you wanted to show me? I've seen the stars before, you know. I've spent enough nights under the open sky."

"I know," Quinn said.

The answer placated Lux for only a second, before her mood turned sour and she glared at Quinn.

"Ashe hugged you," she accused. "She gave you something, too. I was trying to be good. I didn't want you to think I was nosy – but then you two were drinking together at the bar. There's something more between you two, and I want you to tell me."

"Right jacket pocket," Quinn said.

Lux pulled out the Nadir coin, frowning. "It's doing something," she said. "It feels soft. Why did she give you this?"

"I guess you could say it was originally mine. There's not much to tell. After she pulled me out of the blizzard, I found this artifact, and gave it to her as compensation for saving my life."

"Do you like her?"

Quinn hesitated at the sudden question. Would it be a problem, for a Demacian to be friends with one of the Freljordian princesses? Ashe had already hugged her in front of a bunch of reporters, which Lux didn't seem happy about it, and they had probably looked like good friends at the banquet, to whoever was watching. The independent champions of the League had it much easier.

"You aren't answering," Lux said, plucking grass out of the ground, one piece at a time. "Do you like like her?"

"No."

"Good. She's not all that great, y'know. A princess, sure, but she said they would announce High Summoner Irvine's death, and they didn't. She was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Do you like like anyone?"

"Why don't you just say love?"

"Because that's a powerful word," Lux said. "A dangerous, complicated, word."

"Fine. Whatever. The answer is no. Are you going to ask me about Lulu and Sejuani, now?"

"Sejuani wanted to talk politics," Lux ventured.

"Yeah," Quinn conceded.

"And Lulu, well, no, I don't want to ask you about her. Our first meeting, she gave me a pet rock named Lucifer. It's still on my kitchen counter, and I have no clue what to do with it, but I know not to ask any questions." Lux rubbed her stomach. "Kitchen. Mm. They really went all out with the food. Weren't those truffles were the best?"

"I didn't have any," Quinn said.

"What? Why not?"

"Valor can hunt truffles. One of my most memorable meals was when Valor first found truffles at the bank of the Serpentine river. We bought meat, cheese, and spices from the river people and, to this day, I think that was the best supper I've ever eaten. If I had any truffles tonight, it would..."

"Tarnish."

Quinn nodded. "It would tarnish that memory. And that's something I wouldn't ever want to do. At the very least, I think truffles are a food I could only enjoy if I found them myself."

"So Valor is your truffle hunting pig?"

"He's a lot of things," Quinn said, reclining on the hill.

And since becoming a champion of the League, they had been slowly drifting apart. Was there something she could do – something she should do? Or were Demacian eagles always meant to do their own thing? Just because Valor wasn't always at her side didn't mean they wouldn't always be friends.

She would need to have a good conversation with him, soon.

"It's beautiful," Lux whispered, head tilted upwards. "One, two, three, four."

"You can't count them all."

"I know, I know. Fix. Six. Seven? I've tried so many times."

"I have too. I can never really tell if I've counted the same star once or five times, though, so at some point I usually just give up."

Lux hummed in agreement. "It's a losing battle. So you did bring me out here to stargaze."

"No."

Lux waited a moment, but Quinn didn't offer any further explanation.

"Liar," she accused. "You shouldn't lie. You have a reputation to uphold."

"As an uncivilized rural girl."

"Yes."

"Excuse me?" Quinn said, half sitting up. "I was joking, there."

"But it's not really a joke, you know," Lux said, still staring intently up at the stars. "I think I've just realized something, though."

"And what is that?"

"I don't know why I assumed, before I met you, but I guess it was kinda silly of me, since you're obviously so out of touch with others-"

"You're not making sense, so I'm just going to chalk this up to you having drank too much," Quinn interrupted, laying back down.

"Just wait a minute, I'm going somewhere with this."

"Fine."

A few seconds passed as Lux idly plucked more blades of grass out of the ground. "Um. What was I saying?"

"Being out of touch with others."

"Oh, right. Right. I think it might be rude of me to assume-"

"Rude? Never."

"You interrupted again."

"Not sorry."

"But I think you missed some of the importance of your promotion within the military. Internally, the prince and his cohort discussed it a lot, but the king wasn't included in the discussion. He's rigid, in his way of ruling, so maybe they wanted to force the decision on him in the last minute, relying on him simply taking the prince's recommended course of action. You were meant to be a poster child, of sorts."

Quinn snorted. "I think you're getting us mixed up."

"No. This is how it is, and I'm more convinced now than ever that you aren't aware of it, and never have been – and you really do lack awareness. Anyways, ninety percent of the kingdom's population lives outside the capital. I don't think I need to be telling you this, but those people live much harder lives, most without hopes or dreams of anything beyond their village, and the discontent keeps growing.

"Noxus is different from us in this way – anyone, born to anyone, can become anything, if they have the necessary qualities. They're a meritocracy. It makes life more bearable, when you know you aren't destined to spend the rest of it doing manual labour in some rundown workshop. In Demacia, there's a good chance you'll never move away from wherever you're born, whether it's the capital or some farming village a hundred kilometers away."

"But Noxus isn't a meritocracy, is it?" Quinn said. "I remember reading about something that happened when I was young. People left Noxus. A lot of smart ones, because they disagreed with the council and didn't feel safe."

Lux nodded. "The Gray Order. You're right, I guess meritocracy isn't the right term. You need to be strong, too – not only good in whatever field you specialize in. Physically strong – or magically – with good survival instincts and maybe a little ruthlessness. But my point remains – Noxians are a happier bunch, because of the potential that they have, from the moment they're born. You've already heard from the prince, both he and my brother are in the capital right now, trying to quell the protests and whatnot. This has been going on for a long time now, growing worse, and you were promoted with the idea of placating them. Giving them a hero of sorts. Someone to look up to, and act as their champion." She paused to giggle. "Champion. Now literally."

"So I was used," Quinn said, ignoring the pun.

"It's politics. We show children they have a chance to grow up to become someone great – even if it's a lie – and we give those who are angry at the imbalance between middle class and upper class a reason to calm down, for awhile. And it was working, until recently. You're a champion of the League now, but you aren't really fighting for Demacia, and everyone's noticing that, and..."

"And what?"

"And I forget where I was going with this."

Though her words were meandering and confusing, her helpless smile made Quinn immediately forgive her. Did she realize how cute she was, when she did that?

Quinn tried to tie the string of logic back to the start of their conversation. "And my inaction will be interpreted as dissatisfaction with Demacia, causing further discontent, and then riots-"

As she spoke, she realized a terrifying possibility of why the prince had requested her presence back in the capital. If the protests were actually caused by her, then she was responsible for the people who were dying. Unintentionally, she made a statement about the kingdom, and people were listening. Prince Jarvan had come to her, asking her to clean up the mess she had created.

But that simply wasn't possible, was it? It was egotistical thinking. The prince would have been honest with her, if she'd had so much influence that people were dying because of choices she made, half a continent away, which she had thought inconsequential. Still, the discomfort in the pit of her stomach was more likely to be a rapidly growing sense of guilt, than food poisoning.

"That's how it is, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Lux said.

"That's it, isn't it?" Quinn said. "I'm the cause of the trouble in the capital."

"Maybe."

Quinn growled. "Lux."

"Maybeeee," Lux hedged.

"Answer my question properly. Does this rebellion in the capital have anything to do with me?"

"It's-" she hesitated. "It's complicated. Nothing's definite."

"But?"

"There's a lot of factors involved," Lux sighed, "but the prince thinks so, and my brother, too."

Quinn stood up and took a couple steps away, down the hill. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"You've told me before. You have no fealty to Demacia."

"That's-" Quinn groaned. Different? Was it?

At the base of the hill, she began pacing back and forth, trying to sort out her thoughts.

It was a nasty mess, but she could understand it, because she had once been a commoner – or rather, still was. Years ago, when Caleb was alive, they had dreamt of becoming courageous, loyal knights, and they played in the forest, killing imaginary beasts and saving the people. If someone like Quinn had existed back then, then little-Quinn would almost assuredly have seen her as a role model, and sought to become like her.

Ultimately, however, she came to a simple conclusion. There was no choice to make, and never had been, even if Prince Jarvan had told her the truth in the first place. Valor was her moral compass, and if he wanted to return to Demacia, then she would, and if he didn't see it necessary, then she wouldn't.

No matter how twisted her mind became, from the Summoner's Rift, ambient magic, and ruthless killings, she could rely on Valor to keep her on a true path – a path that wasn't quite a knight's, nor a bandit's, but rather, some middle ground where she wouldn't have to look back on her life with regret.

Even now, she could ask Valor. They could return, if things hadn't calmed down in the capital. The League of Legends was going to be quiet for at least a month, since most matches were cancelled in preparation for the upcoming Freljord tournament. It would be easy to make a round trip to the capital.

"Hey, Quinn?" Lux said.

"Yes?"

"What do you want?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want out of life? What's your dream? You told me the Door of Acceptance opened for you when you didn't even want it to, but the Door only opens for great people, so I'm confused."

"You don't think I'm great?" Quinn said, putting on an air of being hurt, and sitting back down next to Lux.

"No, no," Lux said, bringing her hands out in front of her. "I don't mean that. I think you're amazing – but, well, I don't really get it, and I don't know how to explain it. I guess some people are more amazing in a showy fashion, and then there's people like you and Jax."

Quinn missed most of what she had said after the first 'amazing'. It would have been nice to hear from a sober Lux, but nonetheless Quinn found herself trying to reevaluate how Lux saw her. She wasn't the most social person, and Lux had plenty of other people, of higher social status, she could have spent time with, so there was something else going on. Maybe this very conversation – the riots in the capital, Demacia's struggle, and Quinn's intentions – was the reason for Lux's friendliness.

"I've told you before, haven't I? I want to become a pirate. That's my dream."

"But seriously," Lux whined, before turning serious, herself. "Seriously."

"There," Quinn said, pointing up at the night sky. She'd been so wrapped up in the conversation, that it had taken much longer than it should have, but the sky was plenty dark now.

"What?"

"Wait. Another will come."

They waited. Lux, patiently, Quinn, impatiently. A streak of light crossed the dark sky.

"There. See it?"

"A shooting star," Lux whispered.

"I always called them falling stars, but yeah."

"Wait – this is why you wanted to come out here, isn't it?"

Quinn nodded, but Lux wasn't looking at her. "Yeah. It's the Tau Symphonids meteor storm."

"Huh? Storm? That sounds dangerous."

"They only call it that because it's particularly strong this year. Every eighty years, the Tau Symphonids shower becomes a storm."

Four more passed in the next minute. Dashes of white and yellow in the blackness. A fleeting, but eye-catching existence. They watched in silence, Lux inhaling and holding her breath every time she saw one, as though the meteor would be audible in its descent.

"Beautiful," Lux said, finally pulling her eyes away from the sky. "Why haven't I ever heard about the Tau Symphonids, then?"

"Maybe because your school sucks?" Quinn said.

"What? No it doesn't! My teachers were really smart. None of them could use much magic, but they still taught me everything I know!"

"Teachers? Plural? You only need one good teacher."

Lux humphed, crossing her arms.

"I'm joking," Quinn said with a smile. "I think my teacher just really liked the stars, and the constellations. Demacian culture has never put much stock in astrology, but lots of other places have – or did. Ancient Ionia comes to mind, and lots of tribes in Freljord."

"How many do you think there are?" Lux said.

"Are of what?"

"Stars."

"Millions. Billions maybe." Quinn shrugged.

"Makes you feel insignificant." Lux brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Knowing how small we are compared to even a single star."

"Stars aren't sentient, though."

"And is that supposed to make us more important than them?"

"Something like that. Rather, if I want to feel insignificant, all I need to do is think about all the other dimensions that exist, in some unseen space next to ours. There's no way to know how many there are – could be only hundreds, but it seems more likely that there are thousands, or millions-"

"Or infinite."

"Or infinite," Quinn agreed. "And it's a little sad, if we're to be born in one dimension, and, having never seen or explored any others, die in that very same place. It's like a nestling growing old, but never leaving its own nest. It'll just die there, none the wiser of the entire world around him."

Quinn laid down on the ground, shifting her head until the blades of grass didn't prick the back of her neck, and then sighed, reaching up towards the stars.

"You asked me earlier, if I had a dream," she said. "I would say, maybe, that I'd like to see them all – see everything – but that might be stretching it a little. Maybe, instead, I'd like the opportunity to see them all. I'd like to live forever – to never die – so I don't need to worry about wasting my time doing one thing, or another – and even if I decide not to immediately start exploring every dimension, just knowing that I can,whenever I want to, I think that would be everything I could ever want."

Lux snickered. "I think the only thing more greedy than that would be if you said you wanted to be the ruler of the universe. Couldn't you have said something a little more normal? Something a little more realistic?"

Quinn bit back a retort. Lux had been drinking, so she shouldn't have expected any better. And maybe it was crazy, but if she had only one life to live, why not reach for the stars?

"An immortal, inter-dimensional treasure hunting pirate," Lux continued.

"That's one way of putting it." It sounded good to Quinn's ears. A worthy goal, if there ever was one. "Can you think of a better career?"

"That's seriously what you would want to do? Seriously?"

"Yes."

"And you thought I had too much to drink." Lux paused to watch the brightest meteor yet. "You should just enjoy your time alive. Like the bird in the nest – even if he didn't get to explore the world, he could still live a happy, fulfilling life."

It sounded more like willful ignorance, but Quinn recognized that the direction of the conversation wouldn't benefit either of them, so she searched for another topic. There had been one thing she felt she needed to explain.

"By the way, I'm sorry for disappearing on you the other day," she said. "At the Meer-Grotte."

Lux didn't look over, but Quinn knew she was listening closely, now.

"I'm not good with caves," Quinn said. "It's not claustrophobia, but – I don't know – a combination of the stone walls and being underground, it doesn't do me any good. I – well, you saw me – I freak out."

"We all have our triggers," Lux said, sounding distant as she looked back up at the sky.

Quinn was reminded of Lux's outburst the other day, when they were discussing the bomber. Quinn had said she would kill Kaiser, and Lux had vehemently opposed it, and became agitated enough to shout. Lux couldn't be traumatized by the thought of killing, could she? She was a Demacian soldier, and spy, after all.

"You've killed before, right?" Quinn said.

"Why do you ask?

"Because you don't want me to kill him."

"Him?"

"K-" She nearly said Kaiser, but that would both mean revealing her information to Lux, and trusting LeBlanc. "The one who put you in the hospital."

"I have – but what you're talking about is different. Some people deserve death, but the bomber? I don't know. It's not our job to make the decision, either."

"Whose job is it, then? He could have killed you, and you're completely fine with that?"

Lux turned away. "There's something I want to tell you."

Quinn's heart skipped a beat.

"It's... not something I like to remember, but I want you to know, so you understand where I'm coming from. And you can't ever repeat this story to anyone – it's technically classified information. Two years ago, I was in Ionia-"

"Stop," Quinn said, scrambling to sit up. "No. Stop."

Lux seemed surprised at the command. "Why?"

"If it's classified, you shouldn't tell me."

"I trust you."

Quinn almost relented, but it was only for a second, and then she steeled herself, and shook her head. "No. You've been drinking."

"I'm fine," Lux insisted. "We've already talked Demacian politics and dimensions and stars and stuff – you don't think I'm thinking clearly?"

"I – I don't want to hear it. Not now. You shouldn't be telling people important things when you're drunk."

For a second, Quinn thought Lux was going to leave. Her whole body tensed, and her eyes narrowed for a moment.

"Fine, you're right, I am drunk. But it's exactly because I am, that I want to tell you. I – I don't think I'd be able to say it otherwise."

She needed something else – another excuse – one that would work on Lux.

But Lux wasn't going to wait and let her think. The girl crawled forward on her hands and knees, until she was directly in front of Quinn.

"I want to tell you," she repeated in a soft whisper.

The sudden proximity, and Quinn's inability to look anywhere else but Lux's face, shut down her thought processes. Intent blue eyes stared her down, and they locked her in place. There was no retreat. For the second time that night, she could feel Lux's warm breath on her skin. There was the faint smell of alcohol, and she could see, by the moonlight, the girl's rosy cheeks, and then a warm breeze blew by and Lux's hair tickled her chin and lips, and she could smell a hint of lavender fragrance.

How drunk was she? How drunk was Lux? Could she close the distance? Reach out, at least, and brush the stray hairs away from Lux's face? Touch Lux's cheek, feel the warmth and softness of her skin, and-

"Me first," Quinn said, not thinking. "I have something to tell you."

Lux's eyes widened, and she pulled back a fraction.

"It's going to sound ridiculous," Quinn said. "But I want you to listen, and I want you to take it seriously. Don't dismiss it as a joke."

"Okay," Lux breathed, biting her bottom lip and waiting expectantly.

The orb of light that had been hovering above them, which had slipped Quinn's notice since the moment they had sat down, brightened, until the entire hillside was illuminated. The contrast grew sharper, the shadows on Lux's neck and shoulder more distinct, and even though Quinn needed to squint in the brightness, she didn't divert her eyes. It might have been inappropriate of her, but she couldn't stop staring. Lux's dress revealed more skin than her usual attire, so it was a rare opportunity – especially with them being so close together – and it annoyed Quinn how easily distracted she was by Lux's beauty.

To any outsiders, they would have looked ridiculous, lit up on a hill, Lux in black dress, practically hovering over Quinn, waiting silently.

Lux's attentiveness was surprising – it was unsettling how little she blinked – and Quinn wondered if speaking the truth could be a huge mistake. And now that she was committed, she realized how much she valued Lux's friendship, and how much she'd hate to lose it, for sounding like a crazy, delusional peasant.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath.

"The minions on Summoner's Rift have souls – the other monsters, too – and Thresh is stealing them. His lantern is a portal to another dimension, where he stores all the souls he's collected, and I think it's because of this that he allowed himself to be captured, back in Paz."

Finally, Lux blinked. "Sorry – what? I zoned out there for a second."

"What part did you miss, exactly?"

"Um..." Lux hesitated. "All of it?"

Quinn sighed, the tension between them dissipating instantly. "Forget it."

"No – no – I was just distracted. Say it again. You were thinking about Paz Village?"

"Forget it," Quinn said, placing a hand on Lux's shoulder.

She had to mentally debate her intentions before she was able to push the girl away and reclaim her own personal space. Lux returned to sitting next to her, albeit much closer than before, so they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. She had, at least, had the decency to look sheepish for her lack of concentration.

For Quinn's part, she decided she wouldn't tell Lux again. Even if everything she said was true, there was no obligation to do anything about it. Like Janna had said, inaction wasn't a sin. Just because she had knowledge of Thresh and his actions, and knowledge of the Institute of War potentially enslaving souls, didn't mean she had a responsibility to do anything about it.

The souls on the Rift might not have even been sapient – in fact, they probably weren't, and it wasn't even as though Thresh was killing them – they weren't human souls, so they could potentially be freed and return to their own dimensions, without Hel reaching out and grabbing them mid voyage. Nobody was dying – this wasn't like what was happening in Demacia. Vessaria probably knew everything that was going on. She could have had an agreement with the souls, and her own plan, which involved exploiting Thresh in some manner. Things weren't as they appeared – the world wasn't that simple.

Besides, what could Quinn even do? Topple the League of Legends and the Institute of War, just because some unknown souls may or may not have been exploited, captured, or killed? No, it was beyond her abilities to do anything about it. For now, she would forget it. It didn't directly affect her, and if she were to worry about all the small things that were wrong with the world, then she'd quickly go insane. Later, she might tell Valor, and see what he thought about it all, but until then, she would enjoy the night.

Sitting on the hill in silence, hours passed. Lux gave up on making Quinn repeat herself, and she completely forgot her own intention to tell Quinn about Ionia. Neither of them brought up the subject of returning to the city – and Quinn decided she wouldn't, so until Lux was done watching the stars, they wouldn't be going anywhere.

Most meteor showers took place over weeks, but the Tau Symphonids was only one day – or rather, night – and it made sure to leave a lasting impression. As the night drew on, the meteor shower became more spectacular than Quinn had imagined possible.

The brightness of the trails left behind in the skies, so far from where they sat, and the sheer quantity of meteors that they saw – none of it amounted to any shower Quinn had seen before. But still, the banquet – all the champions and alcohol and the chaotic atmosphere – had done Quinn in, and her eyelids began to droop.

Star gazing was cathartic – that was the reason Quinn had wanted to watch the meteor shower in the first place – but gradually she began to stare less up at the sky, and instead found herself with eyes closed, listening to Lux's breathing.

A bright light woke her. She had somehow fallen asleep, sitting up. When she looked over, she saw the source of the light. It was Lux's orb of light, floating in front of Lux and bathing her in a glow. In the sky above, the occasional meteor still fell, leaving an incandescent trail across the night sky.

Quinn smiled, staring at the girl sitting on her coat, and then she realized Lux was holding something up to the light, her forehead creased in concentration.

"What're you doing?" Quinn said.

"Why do you have pictures of me?"

The question woke Quinn from her drowsiness. "Pictures? What?"

Lux handed half the stack over. "I found them in your coat pocket. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Quinn flipped through them. Lux entering her house. Lux leaving her house. Lux, in a nightgown, passing by her window. Lux in a restaurant. Lux and Fiora, leaving the Demacian headquarters. Lux and Garen, at the market.

She set the pictures aside, and sighed. "I confiscated these from someone."

"Confiscated from someone?"

"Just before we met outside your house, earlier today."

"Likely story."

"It's true," Quinn said. "Why else would I have them?"

"Because you bought them? And they probably sold for a premium, too. Don't worry, though. I'll let you keep them."

"You're so modest when you're drunk."

"That was, like, two hours ago." She paused at one of the pictures. "Oh. There's one of you."

"Me?" Quinn echoed.

"I'm keeping it."

"Throw it out. We should throw them all out."

She reached over to take the rest of the stack, but instead of handing the pictures over, Lux took her hand and entwined their fingers.

"Mmm," she hummed. "You're warm."

Quinn immediately forgot about the pictures, and was eternally grateful for dragging Lux out to watch the meteor storm. Only a week ago, she had been avoiding Lux and dodging out of surprise hugs from the girl, and now holding her hand was enough to make Quinn happy.

If things had been different – if she was more drunk – then now would have been the perfect time. She could admit to herself that she liked the physical contact for more than it being a human connection – she could admit to herself that it was because it was Lux, she wanted more. She could reach out and touch Lux's cheeks, and wrap her arms around Lux and pull her in closer. To kiss her, and have her kiss back, and in the privacy of the empty field, they could forget about the world – the nations and nobles and political nonsense – and enjoy their time together.

But all of it was a bad idea, and none of it was possible. Lux was a Crownguard, a superior in the army, a powerful mage – and more importantly, a friend. Quinn could count the friends she had on one hand, and she'd rather cut off a finger than lose one of those friends because of an inappropriate fantasy.

"Sorry," Lux said, letting go of her hand.

Above them, her light turned off, and they were in the dark again, moonlight the only thing to illuminate the shapes in the darkness. Quinn turned her attention back to the sky to cleanse her thoughts in the space above them, and for a minute, it was all quiet.

"We won't see this again for eighty years?" Lux said.

"If we're still alive."

"Of course we will be." Lux reached out to blindly hit Quinn. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"Okay. And if not, there's other meteor storms. We're sure to see at least one more, before we die."

"Together?"

Lux sounded so hopeful, and it caught Quinn off guard.

"Sure. Together."

There was no doubt they were going to spend the rest of the night on the hill under the stars, but Quinn didn't mind. At some point, when she was half asleep, Lux shuffled closer to her, and though she was too tired to speak, Quinn recognized the scent of Lux's hair, and then the weight of Lux's head resting gently on her chest.