Hey friends. Here's another story on Talon Quinn! I wrote this one as an early birthday gift for my friend, the one and only Miss Yaoi Hands. She's a awesome person and one of the most dedicated Talon Quinn writers on this site! She's really helped me with tips on writing and has been a great source of inspiration for these Talon Quinn stories! If only she was as good at 1v1s as she was writing! (Kidding, please don't kill me D:). Enjoy!

Sadness?

Talon had never known such as foolish thing.

The under streets of Noxus left no room for pity, no room for mercy. His entire life had been a swift thrust of the blade and nothing more. He did not feel remorse, he did not feel regret and most of all, he did not feel sadness. When he killed, it was with precision. When he made a decision, it was with the utmost conviction and he never turned to look back on what could have been. It was all woven into the very strands of his being. Regret did not exist in the things that he did. If he had a mantra, that would be it.

And yet here he was, drinking his heart out in one of the dirtiest Noxian bars the city had to offer to him.

Hunched over the table in the far corner, he nursed his drink, the chunky sludge tasting horrifyingly bitter on his tongue. It reminded him of tar mixed with the dirt in which diseases and such festered. The black liquid bubbled and frothed as if it had a mind of its own. The assassin's gut churned as he looked down at the drink in his hands, questioning his decision, his judgement slowly becoming muddled.

But he drank. Glass after glass after glass he drank.

He kept drinking because he had no choice. For whenever he tried to stop, the memories and the ghosts of his past haunted him and he swore he could hear whispers and voices in his head tormenting him on his failures. They whispered and murmured of a time he wished to could return to, a time which should have been his glory but instead, was his greatest shame. And the longer he listened to the voices, the more he could feel his temper burning, his sanity slowly ebbing away to the abyss of self-loathing. But the bitter stench and the rotten taste of the alcohol kept him sane and kept the demons at bay.

And so he continued to drink.

He coughed as he downed another glass, the vile liquid burning his throat. The assassin glanced over at the pile of empty beer glasses. He was out of drink.

"Hey," he growled unsteadily to the bartender. The large Noxian man, covered in tattoos and markings of the Noxian underworld, turned towards him. "You, fat man. Get me another drink."

"Eh, on the flip-side, I think that's enough for you tonight. You've already downed six glasses mate. It's impressive, but I can't have people dying of alcohol in my bar." replied the large man.

Talon snarled, dissatisfied with the man's answer.

"I didn't ask for your fucking opinion you fat ass. Give me another."

The man behind the countered narrowed his eyes at the insult but remained calm. "Yeah, you've had enough mate." He motioned towards the door with a flick of his chin. "I think it's about time you got out too. I wouldn't want to have to kick you out by force now. Another body in the street won't make a difference to me."

The Blade's Shadow shifted at the remark. Under regular circumstances, he would have killed them all without as much as a second thought about his deeds. It would have just another kill in a list of dozens. Nothing he hadn't done before. But the drink in his system muddled his brain and blurred the lines of his coordination. Talon doubted he could so much as through a straight punch, much less wield a blade effectively. And as much as he wanted to gut the bartender right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to get far with it. He was just too far gone.

"Fine. Fuck you then," he muttered, throwing several gold coins onto the table as he stumbled from his seat. But the alcohol pained his legs, making his step uneven. He cursed internally as he willed his lower body to move. With difficulty, he eventually made it to the doorway, closing it behind him, shutting off the sounds of laughter and the sounds of voices that came from the others within.

Dam. The voices.

He clutched at his skull as he hobbled unsteadily over to a nearby underpass. Talon collapsed against the cold stone foundation and closed his eyes, sighing as he did so. His stomach churned, the drink he had consumed so recklessly earlier settling uneasily into his gut.

It had been weeks since it had happened. But for the cloaked assassin, every moment of that event seemed to play out in his mind over and over again, endlessly torturing him every time he closed his eyes. He, with what remained of his heart, wished it was all a terrible nightmare, something false that was not true. Talon had even prayed for the first time in a long time. But nothing could ease the scarring memories that haunted his memories. He clenched his teeth as the images began to play out in his head. The sounds and the vivid pictures began flooding back….

No…please.

…

It was supposed to have been a simple reconnaissance mission, nothing more and nothing less. And besides, she was skilled. The famed ranger of Demacia, she was no stranger to reconnaissance missions in enemy territories. Nor was this the most difficult mission she had ever accepted for her city-state. He knew personally of her skills and though he often teased her, Talon was confident that she was one of the finest scouts Demacia had ever employed. There should have been no real danger that should have been even taken remotely seriously.

The night before he had held her in his arms. He had watched her breathe peacefully, her body pressed tightly against his. There was nothing more he could have asked for at the moment. The times they were able to spend together was limited by their allegiances so they always appreciated the times they could have.

But right then, he had felt uneasy. As he kissed and nibbled her neck gently to wake her up, he had felt a sense of foreboding, a sense that something was not right.

But Talon didn't believe in superstition. He believed in planning and superior tactics as his mentor before him had. There was no god or force that changed his destiny. There was only his mind and only his actions that shaped his path. For what could he be sure of if he was not confident he could control his own fate?

So he had ignored the feeling in the pits of his stomach and pushed it from his mind, though it still lingered, ghosting over the deep recesses of his mind.

But he pushed it away nonetheless, and as their bodies tangled warmly underneath the sheets and they enjoyed the feeling of each other, he removed it from his mind all together, his thoughts focused solely on his scout.

….

Talon's eyes shot open as he felt a sharp pain erupt in his stomach. He groaned and doubled over as it burned, his fists clenched in agony as he willed himself to not spill the contents over the already dirty streets of the Noxian underbelly. He lay there, helpless, for a long while, the sensation of pain wracking his entire body.

Then, it slowly faded, easing out to a mellow throb.

The Blade's Shadow sat up once more and leaned covered his face in his hands. Shuddering, he began to see visions once more, its pictures slowly warping to life in his mind.

…Was this what regret felt like?

…

Their goodbye been but a regular one. After she had successfully clothed herself without his meddling, he had seen her off by the door. Though that feeling of unease had regrown itself once more in his chest, he had chosen to ignore it and watched his scout swiftly move away with her partner, the large Demacian eagle.

She had gained valuable intel of a possible second invasion on the land of Ionia by the Noxian forces. Though the pact through the Institute of War prohibited any unsanctioned military action by either side, rumors ran through the underground that the High Command had begun to commandeer more troops and supplies for another attack. Supposedly led by the Jericho Swain, soldiers had been seen giving training and Talon had heard many voices speak about its possibility.

It certainly was not too difficult to believe that Noxus would try an invasion without the League's permission. The materials and resources that could be extracted from the fertile land would enhance the growth of Noxus's power families, not to mention its city-state strength. From there, they could even have the chance to overpower the Demacian state, its long-time rival of power. The plan was one of precision and if excited properly, it could have become a plan of reality.

And that was why she was there. The leaders of her city-state were in need of a confirmation of whether or not this threat to their neighboring state was one to be actually taken into consideration. For rumors had the potential to travel wide and far across the land of Runterra. And with the presence of the Black Rose, Jarvan III had all the more reason to be careful. No risks could be taken and everything had to be planned carefully.

…..

Talon attempted to stand, only for his feet to give out beneath him, causing him to stagger unevenly to his knees.

How pathetic he had become. One of the most feared assassins in the entire land of Valoran had been reduced to a foolish drunkard unable to stand on his own. He was sure if the General could have seen him at that moment, he would have received a verbal beating beyond belief. Was this what he had left?

The fallen assassin mustered his strength and stood. He wobbled unsteadily, but stayed upright. Using the gravel beside him as a crutch, he slowly limped towards the direction of the Du Couteau mansion. Darkness had nearly settled by the time his hands pushed open the large engraved steel door of the manor. He breathed in the familiar scent of the house deeply and slowly hobbled inside….

…..

She had not returned for hours after which she had told him to expect her.

He remembered sitting by the bed in which they had shared so many a night in, waiting. He had watched as the great clock that sat in his room ricked, conscious of every second that ticked, every minute that passed, every hour that chimed. Few things could have ever gotten his mind racing as it had in that moment.

His thoughts had flown back to the growing pit of dread that he had ignored at the morning.

It couldn't have been.

He had muttered that to himself over and over again as if it was a chant.

Nearly three hours had passed after she had been due back. Talon could not take it anymore. Cloaking himself in his infamous violet robe, he slipped out into the night under the covers of the shadow. Blades in hand and his heart in his throat, he had never moved swifter in his life.

Not when Katarina nearly killed him in a sparring practice. Not when General Du Couteau had gone missing. Not even when he had slain a dozen royal guards had he moved this quickly. But he sensed that he had to now…

….

He opened the door to his room, the darkness of it enveloping him. Rain had begun to pour outside again as Talon collapsed onto the bed. He looked over to the bedside where a small blue and gold chain lay on the side of the bed.

Taking it in his hands, he tenderly ran his rough fingers over the delicate metal, listening to the sounds of its trinkets as it sounded in the silence of his room. And as his eyes ran over this memoir that he had seen thousands of times over, the most painful memory washed over him once more.

…

He had found nothing less than a bloodbath. Noxian soldiers and unidentified mercenaries alike had been strewn across the intel location where Quinn was to have a meeting with a credible informant. Blood and weapons alike were scattered all across the grassy knoll. All around him was the picture of death. Gore and violence were painted everywhere. But Talon did not care.

He moved, almost frantically, as he recognized arrows that belonged to his scout embedded in several Noxian soldiers. Searching as quickly as he could, he looked around, hoping to find anything that could point him to her. But he saw nothing.

Then, he had heard a weak cough.

Talon turned to find a young Noxian soldier bleeding on the grass. The figure was slowly shifting on its side. It was wounded, but still very much alive as it began to struggle to sit up. Against his own instincts, the assassin knelt down to take a closer look at the boy. He recognized a patch labeling the soldier as one of the Noxian Special Forces that dealt specifically with moles in the intelligence groups. But how did they know they had been here?

Upon recognizing his face, the young man had panicked visibly.

"Aren't…are-aren't you the Blade's Shadow?" he had croaked weakly, his wounds slowly ebbing at his life.

Talon didn't answer.

"What happened here?"

The young man shook his head and had begun to close his eyes. Suddenly, he cried out as Talon sank a blade into his thigh.

"Gah!"

"Don't you ignore me you rat! What happened here! Tell me!"

"Please!" the soldier pleaded, in visible pain as Talon ruthlessly twisted the dagger, "Please don't kill me. All I k-k-know is that we were sent here to take care of a leak in intelligence. Th-that's all they told us! I swear I don't know- please, I'm just doing my duty!"

The assassin paused at his words. He wet his lips before asking a question that had burned on his lips from the start.

"Did you kill both of them?"

The boy nodded frantically. "Y-yes! The mole was cut down almost immediately, but we tried sta-stabbing the girl but she fought back viciously before she w-was hit an-"his voice was cut off as Talon sank the blade into his throat, silencing him. He let out a strangled gurgle before his eyes closed. As he pulled out the blade, the Blade's Shadow realized he was shaking. His hands could not steady themselves. They wobbled, blades creaking as if they would fall apart at any moment. And in that moment, the dread in his stomach had exploded. He collapsed to his knees, darkness covering his vision.

He had said that they had both been killed….

But that was impossible! She couldn't have…

No…..NO!

…

Talon's finger suddenly cracked. He grimaced in pain as he slowly released his fist from clamping down on each other. He had been so distracted that he failed to realize that he was nearly breaking his own hand from the pressure. He shook his head at his actions. Had he really become so dull? The champion of Noxus was acting this way? Over a Demacian scout?

He glowered.

….But she had not just been some Demacian scout. She was his scout. His ranger. Deny it as he did, Talon had always known that this connection between them had been different from all the others. For the first time, he had felt whole. He felt for the first time, he did not need to be cold or rough to survive. He felt for the first time with her, he could leave his scars behind. And for the first time, Talon admitted to himself that he needed someone in his life; he needed her. As foolish as it sounded, he could not live without her. He had killed and stole to solve his problems before, but this was not the same. It was too much for him to bear. Weeks and weeks of regret had taken a toll on his mind and he was at a breaking point. He needed to escape it.

Perhaps it was time. Time to give it all up. He looked at his unsteady hands as the still shook visibly, the gold and blue chain beginning to rattle in his grip. He was like a frail old woman now rather than an assassin. Pitiful.

Dam it all. Dam. It. All.

He shakily snatched a blade from his bedside and placed it on his wrist. Talon could not take this torment anymore. The visions, the nightmares, and the voices all were driving him insane. He could barely function now. In weeks, he doubted he would be even able to walk. How could he be an assassin if that happened? What would she think if she saw him? Better for him to die now with dignity than to rot away in his bed. The General had taught him better than that.

He closed his eyes, picturing the violet haired face once last time. He saw her gentle smile, the golden eyes light up as she woke up in the morning against him. The laughter or cute frown she made at his teasing. The way she dashed and rolled as they sparred or the way she made those sounds as he pinned her against the sheets. And most of all, the feel of her soft lips against his own. He could not see it now anymore in person. But perhaps he could see it now.

But before Talon could draw the blade across his vein, he heard a faint tapping at his window. He paused for just a moment before he resumed attention on his task, felling the cold metal rest upon his wrist once more. He drew a deep breath into his lungs.

So this was it huh….?

But it came again. His eyes shot open. Had he imagined that? He had to have….

Putting the blade down, he rushed over to the window only to see a familiar gold and blue eagle tapping eagerly at his window, its once brilliant fur matted against the Noxian weather.

The assassin quickly fumbled with the controls on his window, and after a minute, opened it, allowing the large bird to hop in onto his floor, shaking its feathers everywhere to rid itself of the water. It splashed onto his floor and onto the sheets of his bed. But Talon was not concerned about that. Rather, a small object attached to the bird occupied him.

Trembling, he gingerly untied a string attached to the eagle's leg that held a letter. With Valor watching him carefully, he slowly opened the letter, hands still shaking but now much less. His eyes ran quickly, scrutinizing every word that was written on the damp but still intact message. Throwing the scroll aside, he glanced over at the large bird.

Their relationship was a strange one. They had not become close and kept each other at a weary distance, though they respected one another's distance. Talon had never really considered the eagle to be a friend. After all, they had only met because of the scout. The adjustment at first to each other had been much more difficult than any could have imagined. The Blade's Shadow had assumed they would be loose acquaintances and nothing more. They would owe nothing to each other.

But at this moment in time, he could not have been more grateful to it.

"Thank you." He nodded.

The eagle crowed softly as if to validate his feeling before it swiftly and silently flew out the open window once more. The once broken assassin watched it go, watching as his newfound salvation flew bravely through the stormy night.

You have saved me more than you'll ever know…bird.

Returning to the side of their bed, he slowly gently picked up the necklace one more. He noticed that his hands no longer shook when he held it in his grip. Hesitatingly, he tied it around his neck, the sensation of having jewelry of any kind around his neck a completely new experience. In fact, he found it to be quite confining. He had never found the need to wear any of the type. Not even after they had begun to take their relationship seriously had he even considered it.

But he left it. Reaching for his blades, he glanced at the message once more before tucking it away in his cloak safely.

Talon had come to know sadness. He had come to accept that perhaps fate had truly befallen him. It seemed as if the mystical force had always had a thing against him. But now, it seemed he had come find a chance to know joy. And perhaps now, fate had changed its tune as well. With a swift push, Noxus's famed assassin dove into the shadows of the night once more.

I'll be waiting in Ionia. – Q.

As of now, I am not sure whether or not this will be a one shot or a two shot (is that even a thing) or whether this will develop into a full series. Most likely, it will depend of feedback and whether or no people like this concept or whether or not Miss Yaoi Hands wants this to go on (I already know the answer lol).

Let me know if you enjoyed it or have some parts I can do better in the review section! Cool Cool?

Until Next Time,

-C. Geng