AN: So, this is the first fanfic I put up here that is actually somewhat serious. For some reason the line breaks won't do what I want them to...anyway, I hope to be able to continue it to the end and not leave readers disappointed. Those of you reading, thank you. I hope you enjoy. Edit: Also, quick shout out to CrimsonNoble, for helping me get things in order better. I made a few changes as I hate being uncomfortable with my writing.
Also also, I will be putting little pieces of lyrics from different songs that inspired this fic to begin with at either the beginning of each update or the end. Meant to do this before...They are all from the same band, Oh, Sleeper. A surprising number of their songs remind me of Riven (and similar characters). This first one is from "The Conscience Speaks".
I helped you shed in their name
But can't you see our wounds still remain?
Will you please let it go?
Chapter One
It was summer. Through the thick foliage of a dense, cool forest, a powerful warrior pushed her way. She paused momentarily in an open area and brushed a strand of white hair out of her burning, yellow-orange eyes, scanning surroundings for a few minutes before lazily drifting away to her thoughts.
Riven knew she needed water. She knew that if she stayed out here, wandering about without finding any, she would have more trouble than one would think she'd have coming back to this place. She knew she had been a fool coming here with the lack of plan she had; no map, nothing to help guide her to what she was after. Though she was no fool. In truth, she had done it purposely. She used excuses about the truly strong and independent being able to overcome any obstacle, that she was testing herself to see if she deserved to take back what she had given up in her overwhelming grief; that she was taking a 'round about route so as not to run into anyone who may want to slay her for her past crimes. But really, the guilt that she tried to quell but had weighed her down over the years had always tried to creep up and claw her into the grave. This time, she'd let it go too far.
She regretted that part.
But she pushed onward with no complaint or fear, as was her way. She may still have love for Noxus, the Noxus she knew, but still she had changed and grown. Things were not as simple as the philosophy of her home city-state had made them. She would choose her own path. Right now, this was it.
This was also no time for such musings.
Hours later, huffing and aching at a lack of essential, bodily needs, Riven pulled out of the thick jungle and found immense relief in a cool breeze. After her tired eyes had adjusted to the sudden sunlight, she found herself before large plains of open farmland. Wasting no time, though sparing some to smile tiredly to herself, she stumbled toward the small, but efficient-looking house just up the slight incline of a broad hill.
A small, middle-aged man stood in front of the humble building, and squinted in confusion and slight fear at the Exile. She came to a clumsy stop and almost toppled. After clearing her throat the best she could, she attempted to recall what she knew of the Ionian language. Her thoughts became increasingly jumbled, and the world before her eyes began to swim. She wondered to herself why it was so difficult to remember some simple words in the language of those who were once victims to her gargantuan blade; in a time when she hadn't really known herself just yet. The world faded out; and in; and out again before she could find her answers.
She awoke to two sets of familiar eyes. Sitting up too quickly caused her to also realize the futon she lay in was far too small for her Noxian self. She ignored that for the moment and first spoke; unintentionally in the tone of a bewildered child; to the closer set of eyes. A deep green.
"...Irelia? How did you-"
She was cut off sharply, "I am always made aware of possible threats to Ionia, Exile."
That stung. Perhaps the graceful Ionian woman before her was upset at Riven's sneaky choice of back entrance into her beloved country. Regardless, she hadn't wanted to run into anyone like this. Or, well, be found like this.
She nodded cautiously, but respectfully to the Will of the Blades; noticing how rigid and somehow annoyed in appearance the floating swords and knives around her seemed to be. Then she turned her attention to the second, much larger figure. His bright yellow irises bore into her burning amber. Irelia spoke first.
"This does bring us to our next question. What business does the Kinkou have with this Noxian, Shen? It's quite a shock to see you." Her voice had less bite, but not much less. She really was in a bad mood.
The ninja turned to Irelia with as much emotion as a faceless statue, and replied "The Kinkou always moves when it believes it must, as you well know. For the balance. I am the Eye." He turned his gaze back to Riven, "The Exile has come hoping to find something. Without detection." As if knowing all along. He pauses briefly, then speaks to her. "Regardless of what it is specifically, you do not wish more harm on Ionia. This, I see clearly. For the sake of the balance, the Kinkou will allow you to continue on your path. But I am always watching. Do not forget that."
Riven's brow creased, but she nodded her understanding, despite it being impaired at the moment. The Eye of Twilight truly saw much. Irelia looked even more thoughtful than Riven herself.
"I trust that she will be under good supervision and care, Captain Lito." That caused her to look up in surprise and begin to ask what he meant, but the ninja was already gone. The Ionian woman huffed angrily before crossing her arms and giving the Exile a long, hard look. Riven stared back, then stood and took a moment to scratch the back of her still-foggy head.
The small room felt even more constricting at that level. Why was it so small? Her eyes decided to focus on the calmly irate woman in front of her then. The difference between them, even physically, was astounding. While Irelia was among the taller of her people; Riven herself was not small for a Noxian. She stood at nearly Shen's height, who was practically a giant among the Ionian people. Irelia's hair was the exact opposite of her own, black silk. While the Ionian was very fit but slight, the Exile was more thickly muscled. Her skin was paler and fairer, Riven's was tanned and scarred in many places. The differences in their fighting styles showed.
While Riven mused quietly on these things in her somewhat consciously inebriated state, the small man from earlier made an appearance and offered her a wooden cup filled with water. She accepted awkwardly and somewhat dazedly. The cool liquid eased her and gradually washed away the thick fog on her mind.
In the mean time, Irelia snapped out of her thoughtful expression and finally spoke up. "Shen has judged you worthy of some amount of trust. While I don't take orders from the Kinkou, their opinion is very respected and always taken into account when known." She paused and her green orbs stared hard and cold into the Noxian woman's eyes, tone merciless, "If you will bring no harm to my people, I will take you in and show you some hospitality. But by staying under my roof, you will follow my rules, and if I find that you are doing something that could bring hurt to this land, there will be harsh consequence."
Riven thought for a moment before answering genuinely "Thank you. For everything, and for enduring my presence. Irelia, you..." The Exile's gaze fell off to the side, to the floor as she stopped herself. What was she doing? Words meant nothing at all. But...to say them and keep them in action, that was different. She could be silenced any moment...so she took her chance. She shut her eyes and took in a deep, calming breath before opening them and pinning them to the deep green irises of the cautiously curious Ionian before her.
"You may never believe or even pay heed to anything I say, and I could not ever blame you for that. But I must at least say this. For everything I've done, to this land, to these people, to you...everything, there are no words in any tongue that could truly express my regret, anguish, and deep repentance. Every day I live with the memory; and every day I carry the guilt and absolute shame at what I've done." She paused, eyes pleading though nothing else showed it, and finished "Know that I am ashamed of who I was."
The smaller woman stood frozen in place. Though her face did not show much, her eyes revealed a plethora of emotions, both conflicting and harmonizing. She opened her mouth, then shut it abruptly and strode out of the room. She was appropriately surprised.
The Noxian heard the voices of the man who took her in and the Will of the Blades speaking in Ionian. She may have understood if they spoke more slowly and weren't so muffled. She stayed put, however, and waited; pondering Irelia's reaction to her honest and heartfelt words. Simultaneously, she tried hard not to ponder it.
It wasn't long before the Ionian Captain returned, and bade Riven follow her outside. Hefting the pack containing all her things, she did so. The small man stood waiting for them with two horses, one of which Irelia had ridden in on. He bowed deeply to her, and waited for the pair to mount. She thanked him, and wished him the best as well as promising the return of his horse.
"As I said, we are going to stay in my home. It is south of here. I hope you have experience riding." Irelia then took off at a ridiculous speed, and left Riven to attempt to catch up.