Just a quick story that I'm planning on continuing at a later date. I read Salvadora11 fanfic Guiding Light and fell in love with the pairing, but since there isn't a lot of stories with them so I decided to do one of my own. I don't plan on making it a work of art, but I hope it's at least okay. For now it's pretty mild, but I'm actually planning on making it more mature, it may even eventually get an M rating.
It wasn't supposed to be this way, it was supposed to be one night and that was it. At least that's what Riven agreed to when the Demacian came to her room a month ago. Riven stared at the younger girl sleeping peacefully beside her, if her hip wasn't touching Riven's own, the Exile wouldn't have believed it herself as she reminisced about her life and how this came to be.
Little more than two months ago, Riven had arrived at the Institute of War. Weary and dirty from her years of wandering the Exile had arrived; the few precious possession she could call hers on her back. The first who had seen her had assumed that she was just a peasant come to serve the summoners and the champions of the league. She had waited for over an hour in the main lobby before Kayle, at the high summoners request had come to fetch her. By that time Riven had been so exhausted from her journey and being forced to wait that she would have followed Prince Jarven the IV if he said he was a guide.
The meeting that followed was even less pleasant for Riven than her wait. The Institute of War was Riven's last hope to find a place of her own, where she could live instead of just existing. But it wasn't what she had expected, and she knew that she wasn't what the summoners had been expecting either. The summoners had sent her an invitation to join the league a few months ago out of her reputation without actually meeting her in person. They had heard that she not only fought in the Noxus-Ionia conflict and survived, but that she had left the Noxian army afterwards and survived being a deserter. From what they had heard, the summoner council had expected a beautiful, war goddess, with a sword the size of Riven herself, and the skill to use it. What they had not expected was the pathetic looking tramp covered in the dust and dirt of the road. Malnourished and exhausted, Riven knew she didn't make a good first impression, but the summoners had decided to give her a chance. They gave her room and board for the night with promises to give her a real test the next day. They didn't think that she would live up to their standards, but they had found several surprising jewels in their searches for fighters.
The following day Riven had proven her strength in several practice matches against bots, dolls created by the league to be practice for new or unskilled summoners. The dolls were pale imitations of actual league champions, but they were more than a match for the average riffraff that would come bustling through the leagues doors with overinflated opinions of themselves. Riven had proven herself a class above most of the others who were tested by tearing through the bots with ease. After her initial test, the council had agreed to allow Riven to stay on as a probationary champion of the league. She would be allowed to stay at the institute and train with less experienced summoners in bot matches, but she wasn't allowed to participate in real matches to decide the fate of Valoran at the moment. They claimed it was a standard procedure, but Riven read it as them saying that they weren't sure if they wanted to trust a walk in champion with the delicate politics of the realm.
It was fine with Riven though, she had spent so long on the road it was felt strange to be able to sleep in the same bed twice. In a good way, Riven would admit to herself, she had been on the road too long running from her past, running from the ghosts of Ionia, and the assassins of Noxus to care about personal comfort. It had been many years since she had a place to call home, even before she became an exile, became The Exile, Riven had been a soldier. She had gotten used to moving and fighting where she was told, she was not a dainty flower, but a place to sleep, bathe, and eat everyday was something of a dream she never thought she could achieve.
Still, life at the institute was not an easy adjustment to get used to. Even in the league, a place full of strange creatures, mighty warriors, and other oddities, Riven felt like an outsider. She wasn't a social butterfly as some, she normally preferred to be alone in fact, but she preferred to be anything than despised. As a Noxian, by blood and birth if not by allegiance anymore, she was considered an enemy of the states of Demacia and Ionia. And as a deserter of the Noxian army, she was despised by the Noxian members of the league. The other champions and summoners were wary and stepped wide when they saw Riven. Most of them didn't know Riven's whole story, but they knew she had fought in the terrible war between Noxus and Ionia, and that afterwards she abandoned her own country. Within her first few day at the institute rumors began to spread about Riven and soon no one would be willing to talk to her or even be near her.
After a week of being alone with only bots as companions, Riven was even more unsure of her place at the Institute of War than she had been when she first arrived. She was considering leaving the league and setting out on the road when she saw her, Luxanna Crownguard, the greatest tactician of Demacia and the younger sister of Garen Crownguard, the pride and joy of the Demacian army. The young champion had apparently been on a diplomatic mission to Piltover the recent weeks and only just returned.
When Riven saw the Lady of Luminosity walk in to the mess hall of the league, she couldn't tear her eyes from the stunning champion. Lux strolled into the cafeteria and the mood of the room seemed to become lighter. Summoners and champions who knew the girl crowded around her to ask about her travels. Almost everyone who knew the younger Crownguard considered her a friend. Lux just let out a laugh and moved to sit on one of the tables to regal the crowd with her stories of her journey. Riven was far from the festivities but she was close enough to hear and watch. The other girl's tale was riveting, if even half of what was said was true than she had more exciting adventures the past month or so than Riven had since the war with Ionia. Yet the way Luxanna wove the strands of her story together and described each part of her story, Riven couldn't help but believe the other woman's story to be true.
Sometime in the story, when it got to the part where Luxanna had fought with a giant yordle, Riven forced herself to leave; the tales were getting far too tall for the outcast. With everyone watching Lux with rapt attention Riven knew that it would be the perfect time to leave without arousing any unwanted attention.
But as Riven headed out the doors of the league's cafeteria, she felt a set of eyes on her. They weren't malicious, the instincts she honed as a soldier and surviving years assassins after her told her that. She cautiously turned her head to where she felt the eyes come from trying to stay nonchalant and met a pair of big, beautiful, blue eyes. Lux was staring at the newcomer of the league with a mix of surprise and intrigue, all while maintaining her story before the crowd. They maintained eye contact for a few minutes without anyone noticing the two of them. Riven was unsure of what to do, when people stared at her it was like they were staring at a grotesque in carnival, but no one had smiled at her like Lux was in years.
Then to Riven's surprise, it looked as if Lux raised an eyebrow at her in some sort of gesture that Riven didn't recognize at first. It happened so quickly that Riven wasn't sure if she what she saw actually happened. But she was sure that Lux was still glancing at her every now and then when she could look up from her story. Riven didn't know why, but there was an odd flicker inside of her that was confusing to her in so many ways. She practically ran through the doors to her room in a panic trying to sort out whatever she was feeling.