Riven woke up, yawning as she made her way to the bathroom. Irelia was up apparently, and she didn't want to keep her waiting. After all, the Ionian had said she had important plans for today.
Riven yawned once more and splashed some water on her face. She looked up and holyshitwhatthefuckwaswrongwithherskin—
"Nice hickeys," Irelia snorted as she entered the bathroom, a sly smirk on her lips. She took out a hairbrush from one of the drawers and began to comb through her hair.
"No nightmares?" she asked, turning towards Riven.
She shook her head slowly, self-conscious about the marks on her neck. "Nope."
Irelia smiled bittersweetly. "That's good. Wish I could say the same for me."
Right, Riven wasn't the only one that suffered from night terrors. But…
"How do you have nightmares if you don't sleep?" Riven asked curiously.
Irelia shrugged. "It's hard to explain. I meditate throughout the night usually, pretend I'm sleeping," she began, "You don't have to sit down on the ground and hum mantras to meditate. Anything you do can be meditation, as long as you focus hard enough. I meditate, but it's not enough sometimes. Sometimes, it's hard to block out the memories that creep in during the nighttime when you're all alone with your thoughts."
Irelia frowned, and Riven found herself moving in to hug her. Irelia seemed a little surprised at her action, but smiled at her appreciatively.
"Thank you, Riven. You mean a lot to me," she said with a small smile. "But we don't have anymore time for this; hurry up." She patted Riven's cheek softly to emphasize her point.
Riven nodded and began to brush her teeth as Irelia left the room.
After Riven was finished up in the bathroom, the Ionian roughly shoved a piece of fabric into Riven's arms as she entered the bedroom.
"Here, wear this scarf. We don't need you out in public looking like you got strangled or something. Remember, this is our little secret." A light tap on the nose and a pleased grin from the captain.
Riven felt her cheeks turn as dark as the marks on her skin.
Right, a secret.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
Riven rolled her eyes. Did Irelia have to always be so secretive? Sure, it was cute and flirty, but it was also a little annoying not knowing where she was going half the time she was here.
Still, Riven didn't complain. Not aloud, anyway.
The silence was a little too stiff though, and Riven suddenly remembered that Irelia was known to be among one of the youngest champions in the League (well, besides Annie and Nunu obviously).
A sense of dread crept over her.
"Hey, Irelia?" Riven called out.
Irelia didn't bother turning her head back to look at Riven. "Yes?"
"How old are you?"
Irelia paused. "That… is a difficult question for me to answer. I do not age anymore physically. Do you want my actual age or the age my body is stuck at?"
Right, she should have expected that. "Uh, both?" she asked nervously.
"Physically, I am nineteen. That was my age when Soraka anchored my soul to my father's weapon at the Great Stand of the Placidium. I've been alive for twenty four years though, but haven't aged a day since then."
Riven breathed a sigh of relief. So Irelia wasn't considered underage anywhere either way, thank the gods.
"So what about you?" Irelia asked curiously. "I don't know your age either."
It took Riven a while to remember how old she was.
"Twenty eight," she answered.
"That means we're four years apart then, at least in age. Not bad," Irelia noted, but Riven's mind was focused on other matters now.
Why was Irelia bringing her to a graveyard?
Another feeling of unease washed over her.
The two walked past countless graves in silence. A few minutes later, Irelia stopped in front of a large tombstone, one notably more grand than the others around it. Beside it were two empty spots, big enough for one grave on each side of it. On it were the words "MASTER LITO" etched into the stone.
Master Lito? Riven's heard of that name before. He was some sort of famous Ionian swordsman if she wasn't mistaken. Did that mean—
"Father, this is Riven." Irelia gestured to the Noxian, who was at a loss for what to do, so she waved at the grave hesitantly.
A pause. Did Irelia expect her to say something? The way her eyes watched her suggested that to be the case.
"Hello, sir. It's, um, nice to meet you," she began.
Another pause. Another expectant look from Irelia.
"I'm, uh, dating your daughter," Riven said awkwardly. God, this was weird. "I hope that's okay."
Irelia's hand reached for hers, and their fingers intertwined. The Ionian smiled at her. "I think he would approve. I certainly do."
Riven smiled back at her. This might have been strange but if it brought peace to Irelia's mind, it was worth it.
Irelia then turned her attention to the empty spots beside her father's grave.
She gestured to one side. "I'm supposed to be buried there when my time comes, if it ever does. Most people in Ionia still don't know about my immortality, just in case it causes a panic about me being corrupted by outside magics. No one wants to know that their war hero was cursed with Noxian necromancy."
"But they'll find out eventually," Riven said.
"Eventually," Irelia repeated.
Another moment of silence passed by.
"What will you do then?" Riven asked, worried for Irelia.
"I'm not sure. We've discussed this plenty of times, and our hope is just for me to try to live a life as normal as possible before the public ultimately finds out. Maybe then they won't see me as being corrupted if I continue to serve Ionia and they see that I haven't changed my loyalties because of it."
Riven nodded, though she was still curious as to why there was another empty spot near the grave.
"Who's going to be buried there?" Riven pointed to the other one by Master Lito's grave.
Irelia's lips downturned. "My brother, Zelos."
Riven blinked in surprise. "You have a brother?"
"I do," Irelia said with a solemn nod. "He…" Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. "He was supposed to go to Demacia in search of assistance before the war, but he never came back."
Irelia shifted uncomfortably. "They want to have a funeral for him, but I refuse to let them do it. I refuse to believe he's dead. He's still out there, somewhere, I can just feel it.
"Please, if you ever find any signs that point to him still being alive, let me know," Irelia begged.
"I will," she promised, though the chances he was still alive were extremely low. If he's been missing for five years, she doubted the possibility that he would finally show up again after all this time.
Irelia seemed grateful though, and Riven seemed to bring her relief. "Thank you," she said. "I wish you could have met the both of them, but this will have to do for now. At least there's a chance you'll be able to meet Zelos."
Riven nodded, staying silent.
A chance was still a chance, no matter how small, and Riven wasn't going to be the one to crush her hopes.
Only Zelos could do that now.
"Well, here we are. Welcome to my home," Irelia announced. "It's not much, but it's mine. As per tradition, take off your shoes before coming inside," she instructed, just in case Riven forgot.
Riven did as she was told, kicking her shoes off and leaving them outside. She stepped inside, the aged, wood flooring cold beneath her bare feet.
"Just sit in the living room for now. I'll get some some tea and food ready first," she said, and left Riven alone as she went to the kitchen area.
Riven entered what she assumed was the living room and sat down on a cushion near a low table. The tatami mats shifted slightly as she walked across them, though they were still able to support her weight.
Irelia came back not long after holding a tray of various Ionian snacks, setting them down on the short table.
Riven took full advantage of Irelia leaning down to stare at her girlfriend's breasts.
"What do you think?" Irelia asked, "Of my house, I mean," she clarified.
"It's nice," Riven commented, not quite thinking about the house. "It's very, uh, traditional," she said, a little more focused now that Irelia was sitting down across from her and not bending over.
Irelia nodded. "It is. I try to take good care of it while I'm here, which isn't too often. I could hardly find time to come home when I wasn't in the League and now, time I spend here is even scarcer."
She sighed. "It can't be helped, but I suppose I'm content with it. Perhaps a little moreso now that I'm with you," she said, reaching out for Riven's hand. She smiled sweetly, her thumb comfortingly running over the exile's hand repeatedly.
Riven smiled back at her.
"I feel the same way," she said. "I might not be content with the state of Noxus right now but when I'm with you, I almost forget about it."
"Almost," Irelia repeated, sounding displeased.
Riven nodded, oblivious to Irelia's vexation. "Noxus is my home, and it's always on my mind."
"Oh." Irelia made an uncomfortable face at her.
Riven looked at Irelia strangely. "What?"
"Nothing. I just thought you would at least forget about all of the political discourse while we had sex," Irelia deadpanned.
Riven opened her mouth, stuttering on her words. "I-it's not like that. I don't get off to politics, I swear."
"Sure you don't," Irelia said dismissively, holding up a hand and examining her immaculate nails. Riven couldn't help but have her mind wander at the action; Irelia had such long and slender fingers…
Her train of thought was interrupted by a growing screech, and her mind went into overdrive. She knew it was just from the teapot, but something in her head told her otherwise. Strangled screams of those long gone played over and over again in her head. She pressed her shaking hands against her ears tightly, but to no avail. The noise continued even after Irelia returned with tea, the room silent from all but her ragged breaths.
Irelia reached a hand out to her carefully, and Riven jerked away from it.
Irelia retracted her arm, a hurt look on her face.
Riven waited for what felt like an eternity, tears streaming down her face, until the screams faded away. And then, just like that, it was all over.
For now, at least.
Riven broke down sobbing, her hands moving from the sides of her head to wipe away her tears. Irelia hesitantly reached out for Riven once more, and she did not pull away this time.
She softly shushed Riven's crying and embracing Riven in her arms, gently ran her fingers through Riven's hair. It was a soothing motion, but Riven did not stop crying.
"I'm sorry," Riven mumbled, her voice croaking through her lips. "I'm so sorry."
"No, I am. I should have known that sound would be triggering to you," Irelia whispered. "It's an unpleasant noise. I shouldn't have made fresh tea because of it."
"No, no," Riven protested, weakly shaking her head and pushing herself away from Irelia. "It's my fault for being so weak, I—"
"You are not weak, Riven," Irelia insisted, cutting her off. "You are one of the strongest people I know, and you've been through a lot. Do not chastise yourself for being a survivor."
Riven nodded numbly, and although her conscience stubbornly disagreed with what Irelia was telling her, she did not speak. She almost found herself wishing to be back home in Noxus, among her own kind of like-minded people, where she would be reprimanded for crying—showing weakness—for that was what she was familiar with; that was what she knew how to deal with.
But the keyword was there once again: almost, but not quite.
Ever since she left home, she's been in a constant state of culture shock. Slowly, she was getting used to being comforted in her time of need; slowly, she was beginning to appreciate it more than simply being told to get over it, and she suspected that it was due to the influence of the people she's been around.
These Ionians: Soraka, Ahri, Irelia.
Perhaps… just maybe…
Noxus wasn't the best thing in life after all.