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Thanks to Supreme Distraction for beta-reading this! :D

The Fox Woman of Ionia

Chapter 3

Ahri's Mark

The following days had been…intriguing for the silver-haired woman. It still surprised her how she had grown accustomed to Ionian life—at least to a certain extent.

Living with Ahri had proved to be rather thought-provoking, yet entertaining in a strange way; they would talk about anything that her raven-haired hostess could possibly bring up, and her curiosity seemed endless, her unanswered questions piling up. Ahri knew well enough to not push things too far and at times Riven felt inclined to answer.

But then, some questions weren't meant to be answered.

Riven had grown used to having more peaceful nights as well, the nightmares that hounded her each night now visiting less frequently. And while that was a weight off her shoulders, the nights when her demons did come back served as a painful reminder of the Exile's past – the atrocities she had committed.

But what was particularly odd was how soothing the brunette's presence was – it was something the swordswoman had little by little picked up over time – and how at the same time, the Ionian would trigger a sense of alarm and…interest – yes, interest.

What was it about this cheerful and friendly woman that piqued the Noxian's curiosity so much? What's more, what was it about this cheerful and friendly woman that triggered that gnawing feeling of alarm at the back of her mind?

Ahri's questions were personal and topics peculiar, and Riven still didn't fully trust her. There was something about the Ionian – something she wasn't telling.

There was more to the Ionian than she was letting on.

X.x.X.x.X

"Welcome home!" the Ionian exclaimed, beaming. It was still strange to hear her say that – even more so to imagine her house as an actual, permanent place to call "home" – but the swordswoman nevertheless nodded curtly as she took off her footwear.

"Hello…" was the reply. The Noxian stepped back when the dark-haired woman was suddenly right in front of her, smiling widely.

"How was your day?" Ahri asked. "You know, the weather is still holding up nicely – how about you and I relax on the veranda, hmm? You look like you could use some loosening up!" She was already tugging on her guest's gauntlet-clad hand. "What do you say?"

Riven broke her composure for a split second, her expression taken-aback, before returning to her customary frown. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

She smirked, a blue eye winking as she replied, "I'm afraid not."

Rolling her eyes, the swordswoman allowed herself to be pulled along until they were on the veranda where there was, strangely enough, a familiar bottle and two cups, and a tray with rice cakes already set.

Riven arched an eyebrow. "You weren't going to take ´no´ for an answer."

"Absolutely not," her hostess exclaimed. "Now, rest your bones for a spell and relax. You've had a long day of hard work."

"Hardly something I'm not used to." The mercenary sat down nevertheless, her greatsword resting against the wall as she leaned back against a wooden pillar with a rice cake in hand. She took a bite out of it. "But I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"I'm very happy to hear that," Ahri commented, her tone noticeably delighted. "I've been meaning to ask you: how goes your soul-searching?"

The hostess poured them both some snake-wine and with a faint ´clink´ of their cups, the Noxian took a swig of the beverage. She was enjoying the taste the more she drank of the wine and it was an odd but pleasant contrast to the rice cakes. Riven took another bite and washed it down with the wine.

"…I'm making progress," she began. "Being here in Ionia is leading me in the right direction."

"Good." The raven-haired Ionian smiled warmly at Riven, the latter noting how she scooted closer. "Out of interest, do you meditate?"

A nod.

"Have you tried meditating underneath the cherry-blossom trees?"

The swordswoman sipped her wine. "I can't say I have. I don't see what's special about it either."

"You'll feel a lot better if you do, and your mind will be clearer – at least, it does so for me. You should try it, Riven," Ahri replied, pouring her guest some more snake-blood wine. "After all, enlightenment only comes to those who spend time thinking – pondering everything that comes to mind. That's how you learn about yourself and, in turn, realizes new things; see life and, more importantly, yourself, in a new perspective."

Hazel orbs peered at the other woman, her mind reeling. ´New perspective and learning about yourself…´

If there was one thing Riven had come to understand about her hostess, it was that she had her fair share of life-experience. And the warrior would be a fool to not take advantage of that during her stay in Ionia.

She smiled – brief and barely noticeable – at the other woman. "Thank you, Ahri. I'll keep that in mind." She sipped some more of her beverage, already musing as she spotted a lone cherry blossom tree amidst the others in the brunette's yard when she noticed said woman peering at her from the corner of her eye: blue orbs were wide and the dark-haired woman's lips were ajar as she sat completely still.

It made the Noxian uneasy. "…What is it?"

Full lips curved into a warm smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful when you smile?"

The Exile's face was unreadable. "…Do not get used to it."

"You're shy," Ahri said teasingly, but the swordswoman remained impassive. "Oh well. I better get dinner started. I take it that you're going to train until then?"

The pale-haired woman nodded and her hostess got up with a giggle, the motion causing her (impressive) chest to jiggle.

Riven looked away.

"I will leave the bottle here, should you feel thirsty again," the brunette said. "Just don't fill yourself up on rice cakes!"

As she left, the Exile had – to her own surprise – to fight off the urge to look up and get a glimpse of Ahri's kimono, which ended just below her rear.

Perhaps she stared a moment longer than she had meant to.

X.x.X.x.X

The warrior duelled with thoughts – unpleasant, unfamiliar, and disturbing thoughts. She swung her iconic greatsword around, cutting imaginary foes; Riven had worked tirelessly and forced herself to master the weight of her weapon, and ever since then she had never skipped a day without training to keep her strength up. Training also allowed her to either not think about anything at all or to dwell on matters as she swung her blade around as though it was second nature.

The Exile mulled over the Ionian inside. If there was one other thing the mercenary had come to understand – or rather, tried to – it was that Ahri was a woman shrouded in enigma. Not a single day had gone by without her thoughts returning to the black-haired woman.

More importantly, Riven had caught herself a few times staring perhaps a bit longer than necessary at her. Granted, Ahri had good looks – of that there was no denying – but the way the Ionian occupied her thoughts had the warrior frustrated.

There was something about her – something she was hiding and wouldn't reveal. And while the Exile knew better than anyone that some things weren't meant to be shared, the mystery that was Ahri had her yearning for more.

This interest in her needed to be sated.

She grunted as she twirled the blade in her hand before cutting in a wide arc. It was as natural as breathing air to feel the weight of her greatsword and use it like an extension of her arm to precisely cut and cleave where she wanted.

And usually it would help clear the mercenary's mind, but now it was… nothing. The more she dwelled on thoughts of Ahri, the less she understood. Despite the brunette's inability to keep her mouth shut, Riven knew next to nothing about her besides her name and demeanour –not that she herself had shared everything –but Ahri knew more about the warrior than she knew about the Ionian.

What confused her even more was the Ionian's change of behaviour. When the Noxian had told her off, the brunette had seemed sincere when she had apologized for "overstepping her boundaries," but would just as quickly risk overstepping them again.

Another grunt, muscles tensing and eyes narrowing. The swordswoman stood still, her blade held in front of her for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime before she hefted it above her head and, with a war-cry, slashed downwards into the ground.

Riven's breathing was heavy and droplets of sweat ran down her brow, glistening in the evening sun that painted the sky with crimson. Wiping her brow, she suddenly perceived her hostess watching her from the veranda, leaning against the support column.

´When did she get here? I didn't feel her presence at all…´ the Exile wondered, sheathing her sword on her back as she made her way to the Ionian, accidentally getting a glimpse underneath the woman's kimono due to the way she was sitting, but quickly met her eyes again – eyes that stared sultrily at the warrior.

A slight shiver ran up her spine.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Ahri said with a smile as if she knew what Riven was thinking, crossing her legs as her smile became sly. "I enjoyed watching your display…"

"Did you need anything?" the Noxian asked, ignoring the brunette's comment.

The latter pouted playfully. "No, I was merely taking a break from cooking and found a more enjoyable way to pass the time."

The guest rolled her eyes at that. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple and she wiped it off, noting how warm it still was.

Hazel eyes glanced over to the forest. "Ahri, you mentioned there was a river nearby, right?"

Her hostess seemed to perk up at that and smiled slyly. "Yes, just a stone's throw away, past the trees. Do you need to take a bath? I've been meaning to tell you, you're actually somewhat… stinky," she said, her smile now apologetic.

Riven raised her gauntlet and took a whiff. As a wanderer, she didn't bathe regularly, much less wash her clothes, and it had reached the point where she had forgotten – or rather, gotten used to – the smell.

"I'm due for a proper washing, as are my clothes," the Exile admitted. "I will go and get cleaned up—"

"If you're unsure of where the river is, I'd be glad to accompany you," the raven-haired woman interrupted.

Riven's face was unreadable. "…I can hear it from here. I'll find it."

The more Ahri pouted, the more the warrior thought of it as… cute. "Very well. However, I'll swing by later with new clothes for you – you can't very well wear your current garb until it's been properly washed."

Wearing clothes similar to the Ionian's? The thought seemed ridiculous as there was no way the hostess had clothes that could possibly fit the taller, more muscular woman but what choice did she have?

Reluctant, she agreed.

X.x.X.x.X

The river was just beyond a few trees; one could still see Ahri's house just beyond the trees. The waters were crystal clear and cold, but she'd get used to it. Riven undressed and took a moment to eye herself over, silently admiring her physique: her tan body was lithe, her stomach contoured with just-noticeable abs, a pair of slim thighs, and arms that, while slender, showed strength that came from years of dedication and hard work.

She was proud of her strength – proud of her body.

Tossing the last piece of Noxian cloth – tarnished remnants of armour that spoke of years of absence from duty – into the pile next to the towel she had been given, the warrior undid her hair and stepped into the stream, muscles tensing at the chilling embrace. It only reached up to her hips, but she kneeled, scooping up the water over broad shoulders and down her back.

It felt nice to have sweat and grime washed away, along with any troubling thoughts. But Riven's thoughts wandered back to the Ionian.

She shook her head. She could think about the enigmatic woman later, even if she most likely wouldn't find a satisfactory answer to her questions regarding the Ionian. The pale-haired woman forced her hostess out of her mind and instead contemplated her situation.

This path – the path she had chosen the second she had left Noxus behind her – was the road towards freedom. While she was already free, she still felt shackled to her nation and to her past – a past that haunted her with zeal. Her involvement in unspeakable atrocities had led her to the open road to gain freedom by atonement and perhaps finally be free of her demons.

And for that atonement, Riven was willing to do anything within her power.

The Exile took a deep breath and dove into the waters, soaking herself completely before resurfacing. She ran a hand through her wet, white tangle of hair with a sigh.

Someone once wrote: "There is a place between war and murder in which our demons lurk." She was inclined to agree.

There was nothing quite so cutting as the recollection of a guilty mind.

A shudder. And the tan woman didn't know if it was solely because of the water.

/Even now, she could remember the gagging stench that permeated the Ionian soil, field after field stained red and littered with lives long lost. Hours of marching through muck and nauseating fog had made her stop counting the numerous scenes of death from the Zaunite aftermath.

The messy valleys – valleys that had with no doubt been green and filled with life – that were now mere shadows of their former selves. Decay, destruction, and death were the only permanent residents in these parts. It made the swordswoman sick to her stomach.

And yet, there had been only one thing to do: march. Marching through the harrowing trail and catch up with the rest of the 42nd Standard and put an end to this. What "this" meant was unknown to Riven, but she had believed in what she thought was the pure Noxian vision.

She had been wrong./

Riven scrubbed herself in every nook and cranny as she let her mind continue to wander until it settled on a common subject she often thought about: her dream. She had started anew and found herself back in Ionia – the first part was done. The second part was to find atonement for her past and finally be free to live a life where she served a new purpose.

The swordswoman could do it. She knew she could. The path was long but the end was almost in sight, especially with Ionia's capital not being far from here. There lives a Duchess – a woman called "the Enlightened One", with an unbound and indomitable will.

Karma. That was the name Riven had heard people call her.

Someday, somehow, she'd gain an audience with that woman. The Duchess would help… hopefully. If her title was of any indication, then she'd certainly know how to further guide Riven—

The warrior was so lost in thought that she barely noticed the presence of another and, in quick succession, picked up a small rock and threw it in the direction she had sensed it right into the bushes.

There was a rustling sound and the presence was gone.

The mercenary narrowed her eyes. ´What was that just now…? An animal?´

She sighed. Whatever it was, it was gone now, but the thought of it being an animal didn't seem right. It was as if the creature had intentionally stared at her, hidden as if to spy on her.

Nonsense. It had to have been a random critter that had just happened to stumble upon the swordswoman. No one else lived around here.

Looking up, she saw the sky had lost its crimson veil and was turning darker, prompting the Exile to get up and dry herself off. Noting that her hostess had yet to appear with new clothes, she was considering putting on her old garb when the aforementioned brunette suddenly came into view and wrapped the towel around herself.

"Enjoying the bath?" Ahri asked chirpily. Her smile, however, dropped when she noticed her now frowning guest. "No need to cover yourself up, dear. There's no one else around."

"There is you, for starters," Riven replied, even though she was somewhat surprised at how… Self-conscious the Ionian seemed to make her these days. It didn't suit her well.

Nevertheless, she accepted the clothes, ranging from footwear to outfit (including a pair of white cotton panties sitting neatly on top) and she peered at them before gazing over at Ahri who had seated herself on a rock.

"Oh, don't mind me. We're both women, no?" she said to the Exile. She was smiling sultrily at the pale-haired woman as she rested her chin on her palms, supporting herself on her thighs. "Go on. I'm sure they'll fit."

"Shouldn't you be concerned with dinner?" What was it about the woman's gaze – the look in azure orbs that seemed to undress Riven right on the spot – that made her body grow warmer? Even if she had meant to sound reprimanding, being stared at like that by this woman seemed to lessen her irritation.

"It's alright for the time being. I can spare a few minutes," came the gleeful reply as the raven-haired hostess kept watching. "And you're going to catch a cold at this rate."

"Then stop staring like an idiot," Riven retorted "It's not something you haven't seen before."

"I beg to differ…" The way she replied it was so… sensual, coated with a coquettish undertone that it almost had the mercenary taken aback.

With no other choice, the tan woman let the towel fall to the ground as she turned around. It irked her how she was being ogled like this, but at the same time there was a small sense of pride in being able to show of the fruits of her labour. In the back of her mind, Riven couldn't help but wonder what kind of body was hidden beneath her hostess' clothes – how different it had to be from hers.

The garb Ahri had given her was definitely not to Riven's tastes, though. The footwear consisted of white socks that reached almost up to the knee and shoes that were unlike her usual, Noxian footwear. The rest of the garb was a modernized hanbok with long sleeves and a sash of white and pinkish-red colours that ended just below her hips.

In a few minutes, the Noxian swordswoman had managed to put it on with the help of a spaced out Ahri. The Exile looked down at the clothes she was wearing, and frowned. This was the complete opposite of what she usually wore – these were colourful, soft, and fit for a woman, not a battle-born fighter like herself.

"My, my…" the brunette commented. "A perfect fit. It suits you so well, too! You should consider wearing this a lot more often." The look on her face was serene and azure eyes didn't even seem to blink as she gawked. "And you should let your hair down a bit more often, too. It suits you."

"…" The warrior couldn't reply to that. While she appreciated the compliments, they were embarrassing nevertheless. She bent down and picked up pieces of her Noxian outfit that Ahri wasn't already carrying and followed the woman back to the house, her mind reeling.

Her interest was far from quenched – she was only growing thirstier.

X.x.X.x.X

The aroma that filled the household made Riven's mouth water. She had been introduced to a variety of different Ionian dishes during her stay, but each one was different from the last.

Tonight it was thinly sliced beef – marinated in garlic, sugar, sesame oil, black pepper, green onions, and soy sauce – that had been grilled together with seasoned vegetables, and noodles. Ahri was a great cook – that was for certain.

"So, how was your day? You didn't answer me earlier," the raven-haired woman inquired. She was eating with gusto. "Are you getting treated properly?"

"As good as it can get, I guess." The Exile helped herself to beef, vegetables, and noodles in one go, relishing the explosion of flavours in her mouth. Compared to Noxian cuisine, this was food fit for gods! "And today went well."

The Ionian smiled. "Good to hear." They sat in silence for a moment until Ahri spoke up again: "Tell me about your journeys, dear. Especially this "Freljord," I would love to know more about it."

The pale-haired woman swallowed. "There's not much to tell," Riven replied frankly. "Unless you enjoy winter, you're going to have a tough time there. I can't say that I only have bad experiences from that land, though." She stuffed another helping of food into her mouth, slightly amused that her hostess waited impatiently (if her fingers tapping on the table was of any indication) for her to swallow it down and continue. After all, the Exile didn't talk much, and rarely this openly – something Riven herself had been surprised to notice – but over time, she had grown used to the brunette's frequent inquires. "I visited the capital called Rakelstake," she continued. "And I journeyed around Freljord shortly after. I did meet a few people."

Ahri leant slightly over the table. "…And?"

"That's it." Riven chewed on the marinated beef and vegetables and the Ionian sighed.

"Perhaps another time," she answered back, and continued to eat. It seemed that Ahri was content for the moment and would not try and further push her guest for answers (which Riven was grateful for) as they sat in silence, enjoying their meal and occasionally trading glances; the brunette's gazes ranged from friendly and warm to flirty and…

Wanton. And the smile she flashed was far from just friendly. The tip of a tongue flicked out and wetted full lips, however slightly, and the Exile looked away at an instant, ignoring the fact that her body seemed warmer than before.

It shouldn't have been such a shock when something suddenly touched the mercenary's foot underneath the table, but the warrior immediately looked underneath either way. "What are you doing?"

"Punishing you," Ahri replied. A foot was touching Riven's, toes wiggling against hers. "For not telling me everything. And because I feel like it." She giggled, her laugh clear as the chiming of bells.

The former Noxian shot her a stony gaze. "Stop it."

To her bewilderment, her hostess didn't back down and instead kept rubbing her foot against hers, smirking. "Why? Lighten up a bit, Riven."

With a frown, the swordswoman withdrew her foot, only for the brunette to reach out further and continue. The table they ate on was smaller than the usual one the girls having moved to eat near the veranda instead) so there was no effort needed.

"Come on… Cheer up. I bet you're actually ticklish…"

What was it with this woman? Riven just couldn't understand her at all…

"Enough of this…" The Exile stood, having finished most of her meal. "Thank you for the meal—"

"Wait, please!" The Ionian got up as well and grabbed her guest by the arm, her look pleading. "Forgive me – I was teasing you, but I guess I took it too far. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable… Let me make it up to you." Azure orbs lit up with glee as full lips curved neatly upwards. "You must still be a bit stiff from your training earlier, yes? Let me massage you."

A little red flag went off at the back of Riven's head. "I decline your offer."

Ahri's pouted at her. "Why?"

"You'll stray from your mark again."

"I promise I won't," was the reply. "Don't you trust me?"

Hazel met azure. The Exile didn't know how long they spent in silence, simply staring into each other's eyes and who knew what was going on inside the Ionian's head. In Riven's case, she thought things over – pondering the sincerity of those chosen words. She remembered Ahri rubbing her bruise and the tingling pleasure that had almost distracted her from noticing her hostess' talented hands wandering further up her leg…

It had felt good…And a part of the swordswoman was actually looking forward to that sensation again.

She sighed heavily. "…Very well."

Ahri beamed at the warrior. "Then please, sit down."

The pale-haired woman did as told as the brunette moved behind her, undoing the sash—

"What are you doing?" The light in hazel eyes was unamused, but the Ionian giggled.

—and let it fall gently down, pooling around Riven's elbows and exposing a broad, tan back.

"It was in the way – I can't massage you properly with clothes on." Her tone was frisky. As slender hands immediately got to work on stiff shoulders, the mercenary realized she had neglected to put on her breast bindings after the bath.

She was bare from the waist up for the second time this day, even if she had her back to the raven-haired woman both times. Riven didn't enjoy that thought, but her troubles seemed to melt at the firm touch that loosened up her knots.

She had to supress a moan, shuddering instead. Heavens above, this woman knew what she was doing!

´So good…´

"While it's good that you're keeping yourself fit and healthy," Ahri softly whispered. "Don't neglect relaxation. You're so tense…"

Talented fingers gently brushed past white tresses, applying pressure around the base of her neck and down her shoulders.

"Mm…"

This was nice. It felt as if a lifetime of tension was washed away, and Riven had to fight the rising urge to lean back against the other woman, whose hands truly worked their magic as they drew little circles on her upper back, again being careful not to scratch with her nails. A pleasurable little jolt zipped along the Exile's back and along her sides, her body hot and almost quivering.

"Such a shame that you were hiding this underneath that tattered armour all this time…"

Her words barely registered in the white-haired woman's mind until the pleasurable receptivity spread to her –

Brown orbs opened up and stared down at her chest: pale, slender hands were softly caressing malleable flesh and fingers brushed gently over erect little buds.

And for a moment – a moment that felt like hours of silent appreciation for her delightful lingering touch – the Noxian closed her eyes again, her body hotter and her breathing heavy.

"At least the tension is gone…" Ahri's tone was low – like a whisper – and her breath brushed hotly against Riven's ear. "But perhaps there's a different tension that needs to be taken care of…"

The Exile's eyes shot wide open at the implication and she sat up straight (when had she hunched over…?) and shook Ahri off of her, the motion somewhere between forceful and gentle. She quickly got re-dressed and rose up to her feet, shooting an impassive glance at her hostess.

"You broke your promise." Her voice was not raised in anger, but it was far from friendly.

The raven-haired woman looked up with apologetic eyes. Her lips were parted as if to speak, but no words came. Her gaze wandered to the floor, then back up at the warrior.

"My apologies… I overstepped my boundaries again. But I just couldn't help it—"

"I need to go for a walk," Riven interrupted. "Alone."

"…Very well, dear. Don't wander too far off now," was the last thing Riven heard before she was out the door.

X.x.X.x.X

It was dark out. The only light Riven had was the glistening stars and the luminous moon to help her navigate through the vicinity.

Her mind was reeling as she replayed the events over and over, mulling it all thoroughly over. She didn't know whether to blame herself for going against her better judgement or to place blame solely on the clearly hedonistic woman who had lured her into lowering her defences. Just who was Ahri? Was her purpose to bed the Exile – was that why she had been so quick to offer lodging? She didn't want to accept gold after all…

Something wasn't right. This puzzle was missing a few pieces, and it bothered the warrior immensely as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Her thoughts were scattered as she stepped into something wet and she looked down – annoyed over her lack of attention and over the sudden halt in her process of thought – realizing she had come back to the stream. The waters reflected the moon and Riven found herself staring at her own reflection; there she was: hazel eyes staring back, clad in Ionian clothes, her hair an undone mess and cascading down her neck.

She looked like any ordinary woman. And despite the knitted eyebrows, she looked like she was at peace.

Her frown faded. Still peering into the waters, the swordswoman recollected Ahri's loving touch and the sensual feeling that had left the warrior silently asking for more. She could keep it from anybody else, but there was no hiding it from herself. Riven knew that she let the other woman sneak past her defences—if only for a moment.

And it had felt… good.

The tan woman released a heavy sigh.

Ahri may have broken her promise, but despite her enigmatic demeanour she had done the Exile a great favour: she had let her in, treated her kindly, and perhaps she was just a lonely woman seeking companionship.

It has been to long since—

The mercenary shook her head. Her mind was somewhere dark – to memories that she rather avoid if she could.

Now was not the time.

It was cold, but for some reason the warrior was warm all over. She stared a while longer at the water, completely still, lost in thought.

There was no answer satisfying enough. The more Riven contemplated, the less it all made sense. But two things were for certain: the woman cared about her… And over time, Riven had come to grow fond of Ahri's company.

And perhaps that was an enough satisfactory answer—for now.

With one last glance at her reflection, the Exile wandered back to the house.

X.x.X.x.X

"…"

"Oh, you're back! I'll be honest, I didn't think you would be back so soon."

"And yet there's two cups on the table," Riven replied as she sat down. The table was cleared save for the two cups and the familiar bottle that now stood in the centre of it. Her hostess smiled warmly back.

"Can't blame a woman for hoping." She sipped on the beverage and let out a content sigh. "I'm glad you came back when you did, though."

"Mm." She poured herself some wine. "You looked like you could use some company."

The Ionian giggled and sipped some more before turning back to the Exile, smiling apologetically. "Allow me to tell you how truly sorry I am for my earlier behaviour… I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

´I wasn't uncomfortable, that's the thing,´ she thought. She stared back at Ahri, her face impassive. Seeing her like this in the moonlight made her look… lovely.

"Water under the bridge…" the tan warrior retorted with a sigh. "However..."

The dark-haired beauty looked puzzled. "Yes?"

It took a moment for Riven to gather herself and she turned around, her back towards her hostess. She hesitantly let her hanbok slide down her shoulders. She could practically feel Ahri's baffled gaze.

"Do it properly this time. And don't stray from your mark."

She swore she heard a gasp as the other woman crawled closer, and gentle hands massaged Riven's shoulders once more.

The Exile closed her eyes. She was going to sleep well tonight.

To be continued...