Irelia's hand is still entwined with Riven's.
The soldier had taken it when they left the Placidium that morning, like she does every morning: a silent declaration of their relationship to the Ionian mass.
But today, Irelia would rather navigate the crowded market alone, with nothing but bags of fresh groceries in her hand, than hold onto Riven for any longer than she already has.
She bears with it, though, letting herself be guided to the market and back with anchoring thoughts. They didn't mean anything; all the handholding and chaste kisses. They only reeked of guilt and compensation.
She tears away from her girlfriend's loveless grip the moment they returned from Navori's outskirts, barely able to suppress a scowl.
Riven, sharp as she is, doesn't notice.
Of course she doesn't, for the past few days she's been nothing but a shell, her mind off in some faraway place unknown to the captain. Irelia fears her heart has wandered too.
Riven unpacks their bags in the kitchen of their sizeable residence, watching as Irelia begins work on their dinner, expertly carving and dicing their vegetable of the day on a scarred wooden board.
The captain is as admirable off the battlefield as she is on it, but Riven can't quite put a grip on what it is she finds so alluring about Irelia when she tackles their more domestic chores. The ability to use knives for purposes other than killing or maiming is something Riven's never had in a partner.
Irelia stiffens when gentle arms wrap around her waist from behind and a light kiss graces her cheek. A roll of a shoulder is all it takes to force her admirer a step back. If the reports are true, she doesn't want that kiss, or anything at all from the former Noxian.
Riven offers a sheepish smile when Irelia throws a miffed look over her shoulder. They've skipped plenty of dinners before – she is apparently quite a distraction in the kitchen – but only when Irelia finally speaks for the first time all day does Riven realize she's dealing with much more than a hungry captain.
"Save it for when you really mean it," Irelia mutters. Strong hands on her shoulders forces her to turn, to witness the confusion and hurt she'd just written into every tired line on Riven's face.
Riven had proven herself a friend as opposed to foe of Ionia when she liberated the shores of Galrin from Bilgewatian pillagers. Her efforts to rebuild the island nation did not go unnoticed, and she certainly hasn't held back when it came to her affection for Irelia.
She's done everything right; had fought tooth and nail under the scrutiny of an entire country until she was no longer on the pointy end of Irelia's blades. Why it feels as if she's right back where she started today, she has no idea.
"What are you talking about?" she asks.
Though it's only a fraction of the fervor Riven once held herself with, Irelia doesn't miss the light in Riven's eyes when she is stared down and challenged.
"Last week a Noxian was spotted shadowing around the ports of Shon-Xan."
Riven shrugs. "Well, it wasn't me if that's what you're thinking."
"It's not." Considering how the last 'walk' through Coeur Valley ended for Fury Company three years ago, Irelia doubts the eastern region is all that high up on Riven's list of favourite places to roam about. If anyone were to come looking for her, however, it would be the only reasonable place to start. "Their description matches an earlier sighting in the gardens," she explains. "The guards did not bring this to my attention until the assassin was captured in Shon-Xan."
The last bit draws Riven's attention. "Wait, she was captured?"
"I did not mention the assassin was a woman." Irelia's eyes betray the calm in her voice. It isn't until Riven carefully pries the knife from her hand does Irelia realize she was still holding it. "What was High Command doing in the Placidium, Riven?!"
It's hardly a shout, but the captain's words echo in Riven's head until it hurt.
"High Command didn't send her. It was… personal."
"And if she reports you?" Irelia asks.
"Then they'd kill me," replies Riven, earning herself a hard punch to the arm.
"Not funny."
It warms her heart to know that her death sentence with High Command worries the captain more than her history with the famed Katarina Du Couteau.
"You said she was captured," Riven prods. "Is she…?"
Is she still here?
"She escaped the night after. Took out five guards before even setting foot out of her cell," Irelia answers through her teeth. "You look relieved, Riven."
"I am." Riven manoeuvres herself so she's leaning on the counter beside Irelia, eyelids heavying when Kat commandeers her thoughts. "Five is an unusually small number when her blades come out."
"Shall I thank her, then?" Irelia spits. "She knows you're alive, Riven, and soon all of Noxus will too."
Riven resists the need to argue. Despite what many believe to be true of Noxians, they can be quite tight-lipped. Strong minds discuss ideas while weak minds discuss people, as her general would always say. Katarina has nothing to gain from sharing her whereabouts with High Command, but furthering the assassin's defense would only feed Irelia's fears, and so she plays along.
"And when they come for me?" Riven asks.
She learned a long time ago that people say 'I love you' in many different ways. Her actions over the years can attest to her feelings for the captain. But now it's her turn to be taken by the shoulders and told she is protected and cared for.
"I'll fight for you," answers Irelia, shoulders square, expression piercing, and voice unwavering.
Riven pulls the captain into a tight embrace and prays to the gods she doesn't believe in that Irelia will never have to.