It wasn't before midnight that Vayne was finally allowed to leave the High Summoner's office. She strolls out of the room striped of her weapons and crossbow bolts only with her skintight bodysuit on her back and her signature ruby sunglasses perched on top of her head. The Night Hunter is still uncertain of the council's actions. Confiscating her crossbows could either be a precaution, a preventive measure of sorts to stop her from attacking anyone else until she has calmed down, or a carefully crafted plan against her. A dark scheme, the Summoners conveniently removing her weapons only to aid the Noxians in extracting their revenge against her after she has left the protective confines of the Summoner's office.

Katarina would be free to rough her up to her heart's content and Vayne's wounds would be gone by the time she manages to draw the Institute's attention. Prince Jarvan IV had gladly accepted the Summoners' terms, hurriedly grabbing her crossbows and ammunition, merely sparing her a mirthful glance before loudly announcing that the other Demacian champions would be retiring early for the day. Loudly enough for the Noxian representatives to hear of course, and Vayne could still remember the ravenous smile that had threatened to tear the redhead's lips before her swift departure. Jarvan had also smirked while leaving, bowing respectfully to the all-seeing, High Summoner before his departure, thinking that the Noxians will have taken care of her before dawn no doubt.

Vayne wouldn't be surprised if that was really going to be the case, but pain was nothing new to her so she still managed to smile coldly at the dirty bastard of a prince, and even bowed her head sarcastically making the pampered fool squirm in his boots uncomfortably for a second. He recovered quickly, shooting her an angry glare before storming off. Shauna actually smirked a bit at his antics, Jarvan clearly despised her and did little to hide his contempt. Her whole existence was a stain in Demacia's blight image after all, a smudge in the nation's great history. Not once but twice had Jarvan tried to persuade his father into killing her, eager to bask in the glory of slaying a bloodsucking demon.

And so there she was, tiptoeing in the shadows like a common rascal, scanning every corridor for Noxian mercenaries and Katarina's lackeys alike. She was about to take a turn and follow a corridor leading in the gardens instead of heading back to her room like any ambusher would expect, when her ears suddenly picked the sound of approaching footsteps. Vaune paused, the darkness was her domain but the thought of Noxian assassins crawling in the shadows unnerved even a creature of the night like herself. She pressed her back against the wall biding her time, hands clenching into fists in an instant.

*step

Vayne didn't wait to see her assailant's face, she pounced on her unsuspecting victim like an animal on the prowl, pinning the clumsy mercenary on the floor in the blink of an eye. She deftly wrapped one hand around the target's neck ready to land a devastating blow with the other one capable of crippling her opponent on the spot. Her hand moves backwards only to shoot forward the next moment, eager to tear skin and break bone, diving to the woman's panicked face only to stop inches above Quinn's nose. The sheer force of the blow makes the scout's messy bangs whirl wildly, both of them freeze on the spot, eyes locked in silence. Vayne's hand is still holding the scout's pulse. Quinn's arms are stretched on either side of her body, palms facing upwards, completely submitting to the vampire's dominance.

Or maybe not, Vayne feels a wave of sickness shoot through her body and she abruptly collapses on top of the ranger, heart clenched, breathing heavily, her vision a blurry mess. The spell, of course. Quinn has the decency to stop the vampire's head from colilding with the marble floor while Vayne starts falling, her body rushing to meet the hard ground beneath her. She holds the vampire's head gently until the seizure stops and Vayne stays still, filling her lungs with much needed air and Quinn's scent. She feels weak and dazed, content in just laying there for the time being, enjoying the scout's warmth.

"Why did you attack me? "

Quinn's voice is calm, cold, Vayne closes her eyes, she tries to hide how much she is enjoying this.

"I thought you were a Noxian mercenary ambushing me. You shouldn't be here by youself."

She tries to sound uncaring, angry even, anything but the love struck fool she feels like, but the corvers of her lips twitch upwards betraying her smile. Her heart flutters and Shauna smiles, her cheek resting on the scout's shoulder. Quinn seems to catch on quickly, she rushes to pushes her away and Vayne rolls to her side a bit disappointed, thankful for the darkness concealing her blush.

"You shouldn't have punched her."

Vayne is about to retort, but Quinn's expression silences her, her nocturnal eyes perceiving more than the wet amber orbs of the ranger staring into the darkness.

"She is right, I am broken."

And suddenly she is sobbing, wailing like a little child lost in the woods, Quinn rubs her palms against her eyes trying to stop the flood of tears rolling down her cheeks, biting her lips until they are bleeding. Vayne staggers, the scent of blood invading her senses the moment it hits her nostrils, her fangs extending rapidly inside her mouth. She ignores it, she kneels besides the scout and wraps her arms around her back, rubbing circles around the woman's quivering frame.

"Shh, its ok. You are definetly not broken."

She cups Quinn's cheeks and stares into her eyes, she dares to plant a light kiss on her captor's trembling lips .

"Trust me I know."

Vayne starts caressing her, her hands moving soothingly, stroking the Scout like when she was trapped inside her room the night of the full moon, scared for her life. She kisses her again, slowly this time so Quinn can push her away if she is against her advances but Quinn remains silent, pressing her body against her own, just a little bit but Vayne answers with a peck under each eye and her best hug. She tastes the ranger's tears, her hands studying the scout's trembling frame as she presses her forehead against her own, forcing Quinn to meet her gaze. It is so easy to lose herself in those amber lakes of light, take advantage of the one she loves and spend the night exploring her body making her love, but Shauna restrains herself. What the Scout really needs right now is a friend not a lover and Quinn's feelings are more important than Vayne's pent up lust and one-sided infatuation.

"I am broken. Katarina is broken. Every psychotic mass murdering asshole in charge of an army is broken. Hell even the world seems to be broken at times."

She stares into the Scout's eyes full of conviction, these beautiful caramel orbs that make her feel like there are butterflies flying inside her stomach and make her black heart skip a beat. Her lips move while she is talking, her fingers still gently brushing against the scout's back.

"But you are not. You are kind and brave and beautiful and the most amazing creature I have ever met. So please stop crying."

Quinn stares at her for a moment as if to clarify that Vayne isn't just mocking her before she lunges forward, burying her face into the vampire's shoulder. They spend the night in this position, laying sprawled on the floor as Vayne caressed her gently, holding the Scout close. Her fangs poking out of her mouth piercing her lip, tiny rubies slipping under her chin and down her throat landing on her shirt quietly. Quinn doesn't notice. Valor observes them from the shadows, his silver gaze locked on the vampires diluted orbs. They observe each other in silence, Vayne is hot and feverish but she keeps herself under control, she tries to keep her hands to herself when she can while Quinn naps on top of her, her head resting under the vampire's chin. Valor spares her a last glance before he retreats back in the shadows, it seems that Vayne has somehow managed to gain his respect.

Writer's Note: Hello, it's been a while since I updated this story, my writing is extremely rusty and since I have crafted so many scenes and outcomes for this story I have lost interest in it. But, the incomplete tag keeps taunting me and I keep imagining new paths and plot twists even when trying to sleep, so I will end the story even if just to finally have some piece of mind.

I found some old chapters and I like how short (bite-sized) the chapters are so I will probably dissect them and post them and then I will keep on writing until we reach some kind of ending.

Or you can just imagine that everyone except from Teemo dies horribly and a new dark era begins, that's also a viable choice.

Ps. I edited the first five chapters so far, I have never pressed Backspace so hard before.