*waves awkwardly* Hey guys, I'm still alive. Kind of.
Anyways, sorry for the hiatus, I may or may not have hit a massive block spanning a month. I am proud to say, though, that I've written 5 pages today- a good start for getting back into Fanfiction.
This pair happens to have been suggested by a fellow writer named KobuZero. Go check out her work, it's pretty good :)
Another day, another suitor.
This was Ahri's life, one which she was readily growing weary of. Yes, she used to prey on men for their souls. Yes, she used to have sex with men in order to do that. No, she did not appreciate every other man (self-entitled League Champions and Summoners, bastards all of them) attempting to bend her over and try to ravage her because her breasts and hips were larger than normal.
The truth was, Ahri flirted with everyone, but that was for a purpose. She wanted information, maybe influence- it was amazing what secrets an enamored Summoner might divulge, or the hesitation that might occur in a Champion on the Fields of Justice. It was true, she wore revealing clothing, and shook her hips maybe a little more than was necessary. But honestly, these days, too many people thought that being able to lift a cow over their head with one arm was enough to get sleeping rights with every woman in a 10 mile vicinity.
Ahri wasn't looking for strength- there were too many muscle bound idiots in the League for her to be impressed by feats of fortitude or power. She wanted someone who could do more than scream, rage, and mindlessly beat upon something in front of them. She wanted someone smart, disciplined, precise, creative.
Her thoughts distracted her from where she had been going, and Ahri found that her feet had carried her to the practicing grounds, where Champions could hone their skills against straw dummies, against trained warriors that the League provided, or in tightly controlled environments, even other Champions. Looking towards the dummy section of the grounds, she saw a perfect example of her disgust.
Olaf currently had two axes, and was furiously whipping them at the dummy in front of him. A loud roar constantly issued from his mouth, and foam dripped out of the corner of his lip.
Thwak.
Thwak.
Thawk.
Suddenly, Olaf jumped upwards with both of his axes raised high, and brought them down upon the dummy with a thundering crash. There was a huge plume of dust that rose into the air. When it cleared, Olaf was panting, a large cut bleeding on his foot where he'd cut it by accident. The remnants of the training dummy sat in front of him, straw spilt everywhere, and totally annihilated.
Seeing the injury, medical orderlies hurried towards the berserker, intent on treating his wound. Olaf pushed them away in anger, and walked past another occupied pit on his way back to his quarters.
This particular pit had someone else in it, with a totally different style. The dummy had multiple small red dots painted on it, each one a vital point or weak point in typical armor. As Ahri watched, a rapier almost danced around dummy, each time making a careful slice or stab- each one piercing one of the red dots with what seemed like minimal effort, before darting out again to puncture the dummy in a different spot.
Ahri's eyes moved from the rapier assaulting the dummy to the person that was wielding it. There stood Fiora, a her mouth pressed into a thin line in concentration as she brought her rapier around to slash at the dummy yet again. She watched as Fiora, despite the sweat that ran down her forehead and arms, and despite the obvious tiredness of her body, continued to lunge and slash away at the dummy.
Entranced by the swordplay in front of her, Ahri was startled when Fiora suddenly stopped, muttering "three hundred". The Duelist stepped backwards, put her sword in a guard position, then suddenly lunged from 5 feet away to pierce the dummy in one of the dots. Muttering, "one", Fiora stepped backwards before lunging yet again.
"Two." came the number automatically out of Ahri's mouth. Fiora looked up, only just noticing the spectator. She lowered her rapier and quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering why the Fox had been watching her practice.
Ahri, understanding the unspoken question, opened her mouth to say something, anything that might explain her presence. But what could she say? "You're different than the men that try to fuck me every day"? But even as she tried to come up with a response, Ahri realized that was the exact reason why she had been drawn to the pit- a style different than the brute-force methods used by the majority of champions.
"It's just..." Ahri began, stammering for the first time since her transformation. "The way you fight is different. It's not about brute force- it's grace, a dance of death." She looked away, embarrassed to say the next words. "It's not as much combat as it is... art."
"But of course," declared Fiora, before a devious grin appeared on her face. "I am an artist with a sword..." turning towards wooden board, with her rapier up and slashing in an instant. "In more ways than one," finished Fiora with a smirk. A moment later, Ahri's head moved forwards unconsciously to behold "Teemo?" The smirk on Fiora's face widened a bit more.
"I must say, Ahri," said Fiora, stumbling over the name for a moment, "you are an artist as well. I may be one with my sword, but you," her gaze moved down, before continuing. "you are an artist, with your body as the canvas."
Ahri shivered for a moment. Had Fiora just flirted with her? Although nothing changed on the insides -Ahri was a master at concealing her emotions- a devious smile played on the inside. Two could play at that game.
"Oh, but your grace and speed knows no bounds, Duelist." replied Ahri. "I wonder if it could be so even in places other than the battlefield."
Fiora's eyes widened comically as the full implication of Ahri's words hit her. The foxy lady pressed on with, "and your creativity is unmatched, Fiora." Ahri's voice rolled her name around playfully, promising so many things left unsaid. "Why don't we go... make some art together," finished Ahri with a conspiratorial whisper, and with the promise of so much in the intonation in her voice.
Fiora found herself drawn to that way Ahri pronounced words, the sway of her hips, the fluffy white tails waving lazily in the breeze. She almost found herself saying yes without thinking, but suddenly a wave of horror hit her. Honor. Discipline. Honor. Discipline. She repeated these two words in an attempt to stave off the foxy lady's charms, but she knew she couldn't hold out for long before those large, deep, pleading, black eyes got to her, or the tails which she could imagine curled up lovingly around her wai-
What am I thinking? Fiora asked to herself. She opened eyes which she hadn't remembered closing, and looked at Ahri. Perhaps she could scare her away with bravado before she succumbed. "My art lies with the sword only, and not with anything you can offer." She followed it up with a half-hearted sneer, but knew even before Ahri responded that it wouldn't do anything to dampen the fox's enthusiasm.
"Two artists always paint a greater picture than one alone..." Ahri whispered in her ear. Wait, when had Ahri gotten to her ear?
Fiora stood stiffly, but feeling Ahri's breath on her ear was tantamount to unbearable agony. Ahri's tongue then darted out, just barely brushing Fiora's ear. The Duelist was now shaking in her attempt to remain standing, and not just fold to the ground like her joints were jelly, because they totally weren't, Ahri wasn't doing this to-
Fiora promptly crumbled to her knees as Ahri planted a small kiss on the crook of her neck. "Uuuuuuhhhh..." was the only sound that came out of Fiora's mouth as Ahri became increasingly frisky, first only starting with kisses on the side of the neck, then beginning to fondle Fiora's relatively large bosom.
Ahri's hand turned Fiora's head to meet her own. "Let's go make some art together," Ahri whispered again, a mischievous grin on her face. This time, Fiora had no power to resist, as Ahri slowly tugged her to her quarters in the League's dormitories.
Fiora couldn't resist saying one last thing before they entered Ahri's room. "Why-"
Ahri cut her off with a kiss to the lips, and began darting her tongue out onto Fiora's lips and into her mouth, before opening the door, and pulling them both inside.
Those who went into that particular hallway could hear moans, screams, and other noises of pleasure for the entire night.