A/N: Greetings, people of the world, and welcome to my humble little story. This is a Lux x Riven lesbian fic, in case you are not aware, and if you dislike either, you are welcome to hit the "back" button. If you do end up liking this story and joining me on this journey, I hope we will both enjoy ourselves and learn something from this.
I have taken some artistic liberties with the lores, so I've got Riven pretty much everywhere during the Ionian War hurting pretty much every Ionian champion. Thank you for your understanding. Also, I will be using the old lore, since Rito is taking forever to update a new one and I lack the patience to wait for it.
Haruka
P.S The title of this book is a quote from The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, when Rahim Khan calls Amir and tells him 'Come. There is a way to be good again,' leading him to return to Pakistan and then Afghanistan to rescue Sohrab. It started Amir's journey of redemption, and it shall start Riven's.
Casualty – Mental Ward
Something has gone wrong inside my head.
The sappers have left mines and wire behind;
I hold long conversations with the dead.
I do not always know what has been said;
The rhythms, not the words, stay in my mind;
Something has gone wrong inside my head.
Not just the sky but grass and trees are red,
The flares and tracers – or I'm color-blind;
I hold long conversations with the dead.
Their presence comforts and sustains like bread;
When they don't come it's hard to be resigned;
Something has gone wrong inside my head.
They know about the snipers that I dread
And how the world is booby-trapped and mined;
I hold long conversations with the dead;
As all eyes close, they gather round my bed
And whisper consolation. When I find
Something has gone wrong inside my head.
I hold long conversations with the dead.
- Vernon Scannell
Riven's POV
Warmth fills my chest as I walk down the familiar streets of Noxus, heading down the paths I had walked as a child the days before my parents' deaths. The grocery store mother would always take me to, allowing me to "sneak" sweets into the basket by pretending to be unaware, the military barracks father lived at, where we went to visit him and pass him meals on occasion, the very barracks I ended up at after they gave their lives in battle, the park where the town's kids gathered to play soldiers, squabbling over who got to be the General of Noxus and who had to be the "smelly, ugly" Demacians… Ah, it has been years since I have been in my homeland, the city-state I would have given absolutely anything for…
Unfamiliar faces flock by me in every direction, Noxians going about their daily lives, a number of them nodding in greeting with awe-struck looks on their faces, mumbling things about the "Noxian poster child", "symbol of Noxian greatness", the "personification of the Noxian spirit". I have not heard those words in years either… the sound of them makes my chest ache.
Around the corner, I spot a familiar uniform, charred and torn, that of the Noxian soldiers who served in the Ionian War. I stop in my tracks, ice creeping through my hollow chest, as the soldier turns to face me, his features horribly twisted, melted and burned, bits of skull showing through gaps in rotting flesh. Bile wells in my throat as I double over, dry heaving on the side of the road, but no one seems to notice. No one but the specter from my past.
"Ah, Commander!" I recognize the specter's voice and the scraps of his features still discernible on his mutilated face. It cannot possibly be… "From the look you are wearing, I guess you still remember me, don't you?"
"E-Edmund…" I manage to croak, making him smile and nod positively, telling me how glad he is that I still remember him, as if I could ever forget. His screams rattle in many of my nightmares, his desperate, pleading gaze burns in my mind as I hollowly traverse the world of the living…
"I've got something to show you, Commander," he laughs maniacally, his voice rising in pitch as he continues, "Something really familiar to you and wonderful to me!" He sounds a little like Shaco, insane, deadly, empty.
He grins, cracked lips parting to reveal bone white teeth, the melted flesh of his cheek dropping off at the movement, gesturing at the sky with one skeletal hand. Before I can even look up, the disgusting and familiar stench of chemical bombs floods my senses, filling me with undiluted terror. Within seconds, the people on the street are screaming and crying, desperately clawing at their melting skin in a futile attempt to stop the pain. Many collapse to the ground, coughing up blood as the chemicals invade their lungs, shrieks of agony peppered with strange gurgles and choked gasps. Again, the chemicals do not touch me, instead consuming the bodies of all that surround me, turning them into pools of slime.
I dry heave violently, eyes watering, a whimper welling in my throat as the specter of my past comes to my side, looking up at the sky and laughing maniacally, "The moment those bombs rained upon us, Commander, Noxus doomed itself! Look at what its greed has brought!"
Around me, buildings collapse, the inhuman cries of extreme agony rising to an unbearable crescendo, the smoking ruins of Noxus High Command the backdrop to this gruesome scene.
"No… no…" I refuse to believe that, there has to be some way to save Noxus from itself, there has to be a way to return my beloved city-state to its glory days before the Ionian War…
"Noxus cannot be saved! You should know that more than anyone, Commander!" The soldier forces me to raise my head and take in the chaos that surrounds me, snarling, "You are haunted by the atrocities you have committed and the sights you have seen, and you are aware that they are the price you must pay for your sin." I cannot deny that, it is something I accepted during my years of self-imposed exile, the past haunting my every step as I aimlessly wandered my way through Valoran… "You know that, so why is it so hard for you to accept that Noxus, too, has a price it must pay?"
Suddenly, the entire Fury Company materializes before my eyes, charred, rotting corpses with exposed bones and melted flesh, their hollow eyes glowing with needless hatred. Every single one of them is there, from the optimistic young Alexandros to the quiet old Andrew, emptied of the vibrancy that once made them who they were and filled instead with bitterness. Gesturing to the utter chaos unfolding around us, Edmund announces, "For its sins, Noxus will burn!"
Immediately, the others take it up, echoing in a single voice, "Noxus will burn… Noxus will burn… Noxus will burn…" Endlessly, they chant the same phrase over and over again, as if delivering a prophecy set in stone, and I curl up into a ball in a futile attempt to block it all out.
"Shut up… shut up…" Rocking back and forth, I fight the urge to wail, the fire in my chest spreading throughout my body as their chanting grows louder and louder, filling my entire world.
"Noxus will burn…"
"NO!"
Bolting upright, breaths coming in uneven pants, I look around the familiar, spartan walls of my room in the League and inhale deeply, tearing my eyes away from the Noxian crest staring proudly at me from the opposite wall. Sometimes, I feel the Summoners gave me a room in the Noxian wing just to torture me, for I have been labeled a traitor by my homeland for "abandoning Noxus in its time of need" and have been permanently exiled. So every single day, I am reminded of home, the home I can never return to, the home that burns every night in my dreams…
The only reason my spirit hangs on, shattered and wounded but alive, is the hope that Noxus can someday be redeemed, saved from the terrible path it is heading down and set back on the road it had once taken, that of glory through real strength. But what if I am wrong and Noxus cannot be swayed from the route that may ultimately lead to its downfall? What if weakness and corruption will only continue to spread through my beloved homeland, rotting it to the core, driving it to a point where it is beyond redemption? As the days pass, bringing with them little change, I am steadily losing hope that Noxus can be saved, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.
Stumbling out of bed, I barely make it to the bathroom just as acid wells in the back of my throat, spilling out into the sink as memories of that terrible war fill my head, reminding me that I can never escape the past. The choking stench of melting flesh, the twisted, inhuman cries of enemies and allies alike, the frightened eyes of my men boring into me, trusting me to be able to alleviate their suffering… The screams of the helpless villagers as we cornered them and murdered every single one of them, the cries of heartbroken parents clinging on to the corpses of their children, the determination burning in the eyes of dying Ionians… How can I ever forget? How can I ever be forgiven for all I have done, for all I did not manage to do?
The mere thought of sleep keeps me up at night, shivering in terror, until black exhaustion leaves me no other choice but to enter that unforgiving, death-choked world. The constant bombardment of sickening memories, bloodstained and dark, have ruined my appetite completely, resulting in me having meals once every few days. My body, too, is being strained well beyond its limits; how much longer can I go on like this? Will I be able to see the sunlight tomorrow? Worst of all, why does an increasing part of me not want to?
Staring at the pale-lipped, hollow-eyed, emaciated woman in the mirror, I wonder if I can keep this up for much longer. I look like something Karthus dragged to Death's door and beyond, a tortured being spending each moment of her existence in agony.
"Riven, the Exile, you have been Summoned." A blue light envelops my body as the spell takes effect, my armor instantly materializing over my too-thin form, my shattered blade appearing in my hand. A sudden feeling of lightness fills me, fading all-too-soon as I arrive at the fountain of the blue team on Summoner's Rift.
As my Summoner mechanically buys the usual starting items, a Long Sword, three Health Potions and a Warding Totem, I look around the fountain at my teammates for the game: Vi, the Piltover Enforcer, Lux, the Lady of Luminosity, and to my horror and dismay, Varus, the Arrow of Retribution and Soraka, the Starchild, both Ionian.
Ionian. Just like the blood that stains my hands. Ionian.
Instantly, my knees feel weak and bitter bile wells in the back of my throat, the choking stench of blood and corpses, the stench of war, clouding my senses. Why, why did it all have to end that way? When it started, it was merely refugees seeking a home; why did Noxus have to escalate matters, to start such a horrible war when the last had just ended?
To make things worse, the concerned Starchild walks up to me, attempting to place a hand on my shoulder as I flinch away, "Are you alright, Riven? You do not seem very well…"
"I-I am fine, Starchild," I choke out, relief coursing through my body as my Summoner activates Broken Wings to take me to my lane, allowing me to escape from the purple-skinned female. Unlike most of the other champions, I refer to others by their titles to create some distance and formality between them and me, keeping them at arm's length and telling them to either stay there or back further away.
Your enemy might be… problematic, my Summoner warns me as Vi and I linger around the Gromp's spawn point, We shall proceed passively until we have roughly gauged the other Summoner's skill level.
By my side, the Piltover Enforcer hops back and forth energetically, filled with anticipation for the game ahead. One would think that she would have grown bored of these fights after having had so many…
Minions have spawned!
After giving the mutant frog a few whacks in the head, I proceed to my lane to begin the systematic, boring decapitation of minions. Boring as it may be, it is a good substitute for war; the deaths here do not matter and the innocent are never implicated.
Your lane opponent's apparently a counter to you, but I think it's more of a skill matchup, which seems to be in my favor. If all goes well, she will not be a problem after we get one kill.
A female counter to me… is it the Grand Duelist? Under the right hands, she is quite the menace, and in lower-ranked Summoner matches, she often sees a startling amount of blood on her rapier. Hopefully, this Summoner is skilled enough to not hopelessly roll over in submission beneath her…
Just then, my opponent emerges from the Fog of War, running one hand through ice blue hair as she approaches the wave at my feet. Though this is not her usual appearance, her identity is unmistakable, and my heart drops to the base of my stomach sickeningly.
It is Irelia, the Will of the Blades, in her Frostblade skin. She is Ionia's Commander of the Guard, a soldier who fought with all her might and nearly lost her life in that abominable war. One whose brother's blood, unknown to her, stains my trembling hands…
I collapse immediately, dry-heaving on the cool grass as my Summoner begins to panic, memories of the Fury Company's ambush on the little platoon filling my head. There were so few of them that we, one of Noxus' smallest Companies, outnumbered them two to one, they stood absolutely no chance. We were elites, trained from childhood to be smooth, efficient killers, while they were a bunch of messengers led by the son of a figurehead, the Master of the Hiten, Lito.
"Noxians!" the terrified warning cry ripples uselessly through their small ranks as we descend upon them, swords drawn and ready to spill blood. Metal clashes against metal, the sound ringing through the trees as we mercilessly crush our enemies, ensuring that every single one of them hits the ground devoid of life.
It is a faster fight than most, the messengers are barely able to hold a blade, let alone challenge an elite Noxian Company. They are young as well, more children than anything else, able to run, to roll over and die, to cry, but not to fight.
As I cast a sweeping glance over the battlefield, I spot a single man who seems to be giving Peter and Reece a hard time, no small feat as the twins fight like a single mind encased within two bodies, making it lethal to look away from either for even a moment. Easily beheading the weak fool that charged me, I dash over his fallen body, the runic shield that forms around me enabling me to intercept the blow that would have cost Reece a limb. "Leave him to me. Join the others and ensure all their messages are destroyed."
"Yes Sir!" as the twins head out, the Ionian soldier makes a desperate attempt to lunge after them. I step in easily, parrying his slash and going for the shoulder.
The soldier reacts instantly, his blade shifting with the dangerous fluidity of the Hiten style, telling me that the Ionian before me is none other than the figurehead's son, Zelos. Behind him, a wounded young Ionian sees Zephyr approaching and intercepts with his own body; they may be weak, but every single one of them has the courage of a thousand lions.
"Xanos!" Zelos turns, his face crumpling along with the boy's body, his sword lowering for the briefest of moments.
Seeing the opening, Zephyr joins in the fight from behind, landing a glancing blow, and Zelos gives up even more ground as he takes on a shelf of rock as both a shield and cage. Having beheaded his enemy, young Alexandros casts us a glance, wordlessly informing us of his intentions, and Zephyr makes a quick fake to the left to create an opening on the enemy's other side. Alexandros dashes in, his attack easily blocked, but my simultaneous blow to the shoulder sends the Ionian reeling, his left arm rendered useless.
A wave of powerful energy cleaves through Zelos before he can make a move, and he collapses in stunned silence in a pool of his own blood. As reality begins to catch up with him, Zelos' eyes fill with hopelessness, bitterness and hatred, blood frothing from his rapidly paling lips.
I will never forget the look on his face just before his life slipped from him. In a raspy, fading voice, he spat, "Close your eyes… and see… the children… whose futures you stole… the soldiers… whose lives you took… the families… whose homes you destroyed…" Coughing up blood, he choked out his final words, "Always be haunted by us, Noxian!"
Indeed, I have been haunted by the face of every single Ionian whose life I had wrongfully stolen, be it man, woman or child… I can never forget them; will never forget them, for they will never forget me, the one who murdered them.
A gentle hand on my shoulder makes me look up, the concerned and gentle look on the Will of the Blades' face only serving to further ensnare me in guilt. If she knew, she would definitely not be looking at me with such kind eyes… Zelos was the only family she had left, he was hope for a struggling, dying Ionia, and I killed him…
Stumbling unsteadily away from her, I retreat to the base of my turret so she cannot follow, my Summoner's questions ringing in my pounding skull.
Riven, are you alright? Can you continue the match?
The mere thought of spending another moment in the Will of the Blades' presence proves too much, acid burning the back of my throat as it spills onto the grass beneath my trembling hands. Vaguely, I hear my Summoner calling for the match to be stopped and medical officers be called, before I sink into a mercifully empty darkness.
[Later]
Disoriented and dizzy, I force my weighted eyes open as I attempt to sit up, a deep male voice sounding instantly to my left, "The Head Summoner wishes to see you immediately, Exile. Please follow me."
Another, familiar, voice protests immediately, "She is not well enough to leave the hospital!" It is the Starchild, devoid of her usual crescent-moon topped staff, amber eyes filled with concern and determination.
"Considering what reduced her to this state, do you think the Ionian Wing is an appropriate place for her to recover?"
Defeated, the Starchild sighs quietly and backs away, amber eyes filling with sympathy as she attempts to help me, the murderer of her people, up from the bed. Why is it that she shows me kindness when all I deserve is hatred?
My heart clenches painfully and I flinch violently away from her, nodding silently to the male Summoner once she has backed off to indicate that I am willing to meet the Head Summoner as he requested. Keeping my eyes on the ground to avoid seeing the Starchild or the crest of the country whose people I wronged, I escape the Ionian Wing as quickly as my weakened body will allow me.
I wonder, what does the Head Summoner want from me? Is he going to revoke my League membership due to my less than satisfactory performance…?
As we pass the Demacian Wing, the Summoner stops briefly and speaks softly to the Might of Demacia, who nods respectfully and spares me a conflicting gaze before he leaves: his dark eyes were a mixture of the deep-running hatred between Demacia and Noxus, sympathy and doubt. Does everyone regard me with pity now…? Do I look that bad…?
"Greetings, Exile," the Head Summoner rises from his seat as soon as the door closes behind him, leaving the two of us alone, "Your recent performance has… worried us greatly." I guess I really am going to be kicked out… "They reflect badly on your mental state, and the Institute has decided that we will assign you a… confidante, so to speak. She will always be by your side and will help you get through these particularly… trying times."
Just then, the door swings open without warning, and the Head Summoner turns to address the intruder, a certain blonde Demacian, "Greetings, Lady of Luminosity. I take that you are willing to help us?"
"Of course I am!" the blonde envelops me in a tackle-hug, nearly bowling me over, and I stare open-mouthed at her in surprise as the Head Summoner explains what is going on. Since she is perpetually optimistic and cheerful, the Lady of Luminosity has been chosen to be a "buddy" of mine, to bring some "light" back into my life, and hopefully "fix" whatever it is that is wrong with me. Should I ever need a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear to pour out my troubles to, she will be right there beside me, readily providing it.
"The Ionian War is in the past, it is pointless to live in it. Untangle yourself from the shadows and live your life to the fullest." As if I could ever do something like that. "I hope that the two of you will learn to get along, despite your… political differences."
"We'll be great friends, won't we, Riven?" the Lady of Luminosity asks cheerfully, looping one arm over my bony shoulder while grinning idiotically at the Head Summoner. "You have a heart, unlike the rest of your cold-blooded countrymen."
Flinching, I draw away from her as I respond stiffly, "Please keep your hands to yourself, Lady of Luminosity." Instead of getting discouraged, the blonde simply grins widely and swears that she will soon turn me into a stupidly optimistic, overly-touchy airhead (not those words exactly). The Head Summoner smiles and dismisses us with a warm chuckle, the overenthusiastic blonde dragging me to the dining hall immediately to start "fleshing me out".
"I'm sure you'll get better soon!" she says in a high-pitched, excited voice, drawing strange stares from all the other champions we pass by. Demacians and Noxians especially, save for the Sinister Blade who is too busy being besotted with the Frost Archer to care. "Some food, loads of sleep and plenty of TLC will see you right as rain in no time!"
TLC…?
Before I can further contemplate on the meaning of said abbreviation, the Nine Tailed Fox stops us as we are about to enter the dining hall, winking one perfect, almond-shaped amber eye at us while purring, "Lux, Riven, are you following in Katarina and Ashe's footsteps?"
Blushing a little, the Lady of Luminosity stutters that we are simply going to be friends, squeaking a goodbye as she tugs me away from the nine-tailed seductress as quickly as possible. Behind us, the Nine Tailed Fox simply chuckles in amusement, a knowing smile tugging at the edges of her lips.
Right now, I know only one thing: my life will never be the same again.
A/N: I hope this looks like a promising start to you. Don't hesitate to leave a review, or to follow if you want to receive information on when this story is updated! Please follow me on Tumblr, Megapieceoftrash, if you want to look out for extra story-related content!
Haruka