A/N: I'm sorry this took sooooooo long. School and work has really picked up and my classes this term are all essay based classes and not test based. So long story short I've been writing a lot. I will do my best to update because now is the point were this story really starts to roll.
Thank you ALL for the support. The PMs I receive from a lot of you are so kind. Thank you, you all are the reason I keep writing. I wanted to cry because of all the nice things people had to say.
Leave a review, tell me what you think. I never thought my first fanfiction would break the triple digits in follows and favs. You are all amazing. I will continue to try and improve.
Chapter 17: Betrayal
"Commander Alden was devastated after I returned to the Academy with Katarina and Titus..." Riven's throat felt as dry as the hot sands of the Shurima Deserts. Her voice sounded strained and raspy, trying to hold back the rising sickness of guilt start to well within her. The scar almost ached as she tried to muster up the will to tell its story to her...friend.
"He loved her...didn't he?" Irelia replied somberly.
"C-Commander," the young soldier sobbed as she dropped to her hands and knees, lungs and flesh still burning from the residual sear of the fire, feeling as though she was still trapped within it. Her hand grabbed fiercely at the fabric of her stained and singed white collared undershirt just above her heart. Riven leaned over and pressed her forehead against the cold hard floor of the Commander's office. Black soot polluted tear drops dripped to the floor while Riven struggled to take a breath, her lungs locking up from shock for a short moment before managing to choke out another cry. "W-Why...?" Riven wept, feeling the tight pain in her chest start to become unbearable, "why does my chest...f-feel as though someone has driven a blade through it!?" Riven looked back up at Commander Alden, her voice unintentionally rising as a result of her distress and eyes stained with tears.
Commander Alden's face was strained while he tried to hold back his own slew of emotions wanting to show their colors. He wanted to hold a strong example, for both their sake. The word sounded throaty as it rolled free of the Commander's lips, "love..."
Riven was still hunched over her legs and heaving just enough breath to keep herself from passing out from lack of air. Liquid sorrow showed no signs of yielding as anguished crimson irises begged the Commander for comforting answers. "Why does it hurt so bad...?" Riven's voice was high-pitched and weak as she whimpered the question before starting to intensely cough from her grief stricken heartache. She had been hit with weapons and had broken bones during her days as a trainee, but none of those incidents hurt as bad as this invisible wound to her chest.
"Because... it was genuine," Bryce swallowed back his own building melancholy seeing his prized student in such condition; "It was real."
A look of painful disbelief contorted Riven's expression as she silently tried to quell her sobs enough so she could speak. How could something so gentle...so nurturing...so comforting, betray her like this? To be ripped away so suddenly despite its dominant presence through out her young life. The love of her Matron sheltered her from the cruel mistreatment her brothers inflicted upon her. That love was now gone, deceased, and that soft comfort replaced by heartless agony. "If this is how love feels..." Riven's voice was low, "then I never want to feel its presence again..."
"Riven..."
The young woman sputtered another sob and leaned back down so her forehead pressed to the floor once again; feeling disgusted with this pathetic display of weakness.
Riven...
Her name echoed.
I loved her...Riven weakly lipped the confession in her native tongue.
"Riven...?"
The distracted exile blinked. Her eyes shifted to the woman that addressed her and pulled her back to reality from her wandering mind.
"Are you alright?" Irelia asked, her eyes meeting a distant crimson gaze. A warm and auxiliary smile crept across her lips seeing Riven nod softly, who seemed engrossed in holding the Captain's gaze.
A mild and soft heat began to settle across Riven's cheeks as she held the gaze of the gentle emerald orbs within the Ionian Champion's eyes.
I feel nothing for them!
If this is how love feels... then I never want to feel its presence again.
Riven flinched away from watching the Captain. The warmth prickling at her cheeks continued to linger as she tried to keep her attention diverted. To relieve herself from feeling the need to fidget, a minor side effect of trying to avoid Irelia's searching eyes, Riven readjusted the way she was sitting. Crossing her long legs, the platinum haired Noxian sat up straight and kept her attention away from the Captain. Her hand subconsciously gripped at her side; finger's covering the scar that continued to softly throb. The sound of rustling clothing caught Riven's attention and in the time it took her to turn her head towards the sound; Irelia had managed to move and sit down closer, almost too close. In fact, Irelia was so close that Riven could feel the Captain's silk covered knees touching her own legs while Irelia sat with her legs criss-crossed in the same manner as her. The Noxian warrior immediately sat up completely straight once her brain processed the situation. Her spine and shoulders were stiff as a board. The muscles in her throat clenched tightly; effecting her ability to breathe as a gentle touch softly started to peel away her rigid fingers from hiding the scar. She allowed it.
"What happened to you?" The Captain's voice was almost as soft as a whisper. "Losing Madera, surely didn't mold you into the monster you claim yourself to be."
Riven didn't reply right away; feeling all too distracted and concerned with Irelia invading not only her space, but her intimate space. She was allowing it. How it bothered her that she was actually letting it happen. Maybe...just maybe...she actually missed the gentle presence of another in her space. Sure, Irelia was a warrior, a strong and well-known Ionian warrior, but that did not change the fact that she was being kind and gentle. She was listening. She was always there, even at the Institute. Both her and Luxanna. Riven couldn't decide if the feeling in her chest was her heart sinking from the realization of her own behavior over the last few months, or, if it was something else. A presence she knew once...long ago. Riven lowered her gaze to look down at Irelia's hand still slowly exposing the scar upon her upper hip.
Once she managed to remove the defensive barrier of Riven's fingers blocking the scar, the Captain tried to get a better look at it. The scar still looked like it was caused from a blade, but the sheer jagged and brutal nature of the scar made it look as if the flesh had been ripped; not sliced. Irelia stopped herself from almost touching it, her fingers suspended only centimeters away. "May I?" She asked softly, hoping that maybe she'd have a better idea or understanding of what weapon may have caused this scar from feeling the edges. The truth was, there was nothing clean cut about this wound.
Riven remained silent for a short while before nodding. A cold shiver ran up her spine as she felt the warm pads of Irelia's fingers quietly trace the rough edge of the pale scar tissue. The intrigued look upon Irelia's face didn't insult her, in fact, Riven almost found the expression slightly cute and charming; like a curious child.
Despite how Riven felt, Irelia was still trying to figure out the mystery weapon responsible for such a harsh looking wound. Was it a Demacian weapon? Maybe some ancient Ionian weapon that was used in the Southern Territories? Freljord, perhaps? Her fingers continued to feel the scar's edges while her mind remained completely stumped. The flesh was so rough that Irelia came to a conclusion that the injury didn't heal very well and knowing Riven, the exile probably didn't allow it to heal being the proud and bullheaded person she was.
"Noxian Military Grade Sawtooth Hook Knife," Riven managed find her voice again.
The Captain pulled her hand away and looked up at Riven, "that sounds..."
"Painful? They are," Riven finished Irelia's statement.
"I was going to say barbaric, but, painful works to," Irelia sighed and sat back up, still sitting close.
Riven took a deep breath; her thumb and pointer finger rubbing her eyes in an contemplating manner. "Very barbaric...and Noxus is very...VERY archaic. A Noxian Sawtooth Knife was originally used to disembowel livestock, until a Noxian farmhand out in the countryside used one to defend himself from Demacian scout. It is a painful, terrible and agonizing way to die. Hell, some Noxian soldiers don't even have the will to let them die in that manner, so they put them down so they don't lay there suffering as they bleed out."
Irelia felt a horrible sickness roll in her stomach, her face fading pale, "It...guts people?"
"Like a pig," Riven responded flatly, almost feeling half disgusted herself. "The original Sawtooth Knife used for cattle is much smaller and less dense as it's military adopted cousin. Every Noxian infantry soldier has one. It is standard equipment. Every soldier is trained to use one. You see, the knife's edge is serrated like nothing you've ever seen. The serrations are angled like a sawtooth, but, the backs of the serrations are flat and hooked...let's just say...once it goes in, you best hope it doesn't get pulled out. Unless, you want to see your own entrails."
"Why would soldiers need training for something like a knife... I would think standard weapon training would be enough," Irelia frowned while trying to drown out images of these killing machines being used on her own people; which she knew they were, now knowing every Noxian carried one. The Ionian Captain jumped as Riven's hand drove forward. Her blade's flinched in a manner that made it clear they were being held back once again. Startled emerald eyes shifted down to where Riven's hand, positioned and shaped in a way that made it seem like she was holding a weapon, was pressed up against the base of her sternum.
"Thrust."
Irelia felt Riven's knuckles move, firmly pressing down into the upper flesh of her abdomen.
"Shift."
Irelia knew what came next. She could feel the exile's hand shaking softly.
Riven uncurled her hand; her fingertips ghosted slightly down part of Irelia's middle before bringing her hand back to rest in her own lap, "...and rip." Her voice a whisper as her eyes followed her hand and remained down. "I used one...one time...and only one time...and I never carried one again..." It was apparent in Riven's tone that she was fighting back the pain of recalling the time she had used the knife.
I...I did something as a young soldier that I can never forgive myself for...
My hands were stained...long before I set foot onto the soil of this land...
Irelia recalled Riven's words while she watched the Noxian closely. She started to put two and two together. The Captain came to a conclusion that she did not want. Her voice was low, lacking the comforting tone that Riven had grown so used to; causing the exile to unintentionally flinch, "You killed someone with one of those...things...didn't you...?" Irelia's words shook slightly.
"Tapporauta..." Riven mumbled shamefully, "A feat of strength should one survive...To prove yourself as more than just a person, but as a weapon... A weapon worthy enough to remove the person leading you from the picture and prove yourself the stronger individual capable of leading...It did not happen often...but when it was declared...it is a major event. The Trial of Killing Iron."
"Commander Alden," the young woman, still dressed up in full armor and drenched in sweat from her long day of training exercises, stepped up to the Brigadier General's desk. She pulled off her helmet so that she could speak a little better. Her platinum locks were damp and displayed a serious case of "helmet hair." "There must be a mistake," Riven huffed, pausing for a couple seconds as she tried to let her lungs recover, "he's not capable! He is so full of hesitation towards choices that our unit was declared dead more times than I can count!"
"It is not my decision, Riven," the Brigadier General's eyes flicked up from his paper work at the soldier, "that is all High Commands choice. They make the decisions and we follow them."
"Surely you can SAY something, Bryce! Anything!? Fury Company is as good as dead if High Command sets these ranks in stone at the Induction Ceremony this evening!" Riven shouted.
"There is nothing I can do, Riven."
"Talk to Darkwill! You were a personal guard of his!"
"Riven."
"We will be DEAD if this goes through!"
"Riven, enough."
"You're breaking your promise to her if you let this happen!" The soldier flinched slightly as her superior's fists slammed down onto his desk and he stood tall.
"I fulfilled my promise to Madera by taking care of you both while you were in the Academy," Alden's voice was serious and direct, "so don't you dare question my ability to keep it. You are both adults now, and it is time you take care of yourselves. My hands are tied."
"You're sending us to our graves," Riven growled.
"I know my place, Sergeant Major!" Bryce shouted, "it is time that you learn yours."
Riven sneered and turned away from the man who had grown more and more distant from her with every promotion he received. After opening the door to his office, she paused in the doorway before turning back to look at him over her shoulder, "if you will not act...I will."
Brigadier General Alden sat down silently after his office door slammed shut. "I'm sorry...my hands are tied..."
Riven's armor clanked loudly with every thundering step she took down the hall way towards her living quarters. Upon her arrival to her room, she almost felt the urge to break the door down; just to relieve some of her anger. Riven took a deep breath before grabbing the door handle. She knew better than that. Breaking something doesn't fix anything. The door swung open with ease as the young Noxian soldier stepped into her room; her self control lasting just long enough to spare the door her pent up wrath. "Damn it..." She mumbled, "Damn it...Damn it!" Riven swung her helmet up; cocking her arm to throw it down onto the floor, "GOD FUCKING DA-
"Am I interrupting?" A voice came from the doorway behind her.
The Master Sergeant furiously turned around to find Katarina leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and a smug look on her face. Riven quietly lowered her helmet and frowned at the assassin, "he did nothing about fixing this problem, so how do you expect me to feel, knowing that if the 42nd Standard infantry is deployed, Fury Company is as good as dead...and I with it."
Katarina shrugged, "relax, Cowlick," the assassin uncrossed her arms and stepped into the room, "High Command makes these choices for a reason. Have a little faith in their judgement, would ya?" Katarina's lips curved into a friendly smirk as she grabbed onto her best friend's shoulder and shook it playfully. "God damn, you're so tense," she laughed.
"Let go," Riven grumbled, aggressively shaking away Katarina's grasp and took a step away.
"Woah, chill your tits, Riven," Kat reacted and pulled her hand away.
The soldier turned her back towards Katarina in a dismissive manner.
This peeved Kat."Turning your back to an assassin," Katarina drew a blade in a manner that made the edge ring as it was pulled against the sheath, "is an unwise decision."
Riven did not react, ignoring Katarina's mind games.
The assassin shrugged her shoulders. "What's your problem, huh? So you didn't get the Captain rank and Titus did, so what? You need to get over it and stop living in the past, Riven."
"Ha!" Riven snapped out a laugh and turned back around to face Katarina, "if I put faith into this judgement decision by High Command," Riven's eyes narrowed, "then my faith is severely misplaced. He is NOT fit to lead. I taught him everything he knows! ME!" The soldier aggressively hit her hand against her own metal chest plate to emphasize her role in the matter. "That hesitant coward has gotten me and the rest of our men declared dead in training scenarios many times. Just because he's talented with a weapon," Riven unsheathed the enormous broadsword from her back and swung it down into the floorboards with mastered ease, "does not mean he has what it takes to lead."
Katarina glared at Riven. Insulting High Command was insulting her father. Insulting the great General Du Couteau was insulting her family. Insulting her family was a one way ticket to your tomb in her eyes. "You're lucky I know you better than this, Riven," her tone was serious and held a hint of threatening frustration.
"If you think for ONE SECOND that I will follow Titus like a dog to its master..."
"Get over it, Riven," Katarina interrupted, trying to keep her own growing anger in check. "If High Command appoints him as Commander that is that. You need to stop living in the past and look at what is in front of you. So what? You taught him everything? You didn't do that because YOU wanted to, you did that because that's what MADERA would have wanted you to do. I don't know if you can recall or not, Riven, and I don't mean this to be hurtful when I say it, but, Madera has been gone for awhile, its time to move o- Katarina stumbled slightly as a pair of strong hands shoved her back.
"Get out," Riven snapped, ignoring the breeze the dagger that sunk into the wall behind her had left behind against her cheek.
Katarina stood back up straight from her follow through of the throw and glared into Riven's just as anger filled eyes, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to get that temper of yours in-check. Maybe that's why you're not Captain," Katarina said sternly, "your own anger will be your undoing AND Fury Company's."
"It's funny how you of all people are lecturing me about moving forward from the past and controlling my passions," Riven's crimson glare shifted upon the raw and healing cut upon the assassin's left eye, "seeing as history is repeating itself. This won't be the first time High Command's judgement was poor. It seems daddy's discipline training finally got you out of sulking around at home and now you're a "wise" ass instead of a sarcastic one."
Katarina's hands were shaking, "you're certainly testing it," the assassin growled. "You're just angry; Relax, before you say something you'll regret." Katarina continued to hold a firm glare with her friend, knowing all too well that she to was just as hot headed at times and didn't mean what she said.
Riven stepped up to the assassin, standing only an inch or two taller, "I have the right to be," Riven grumbled, "and if blood is what Noxus wants for things to be set right," Riven leaned closer, "then blood Noxus shall receive." She pushed past Katarina and walked back towards her door, "Oh, by the way, Kata, you got a little something...just there," Riven said informatively, bringing her hand up to her own face and gesturing her left eye before walking away.
A look of shock and hurt took a hold of Katarina's face as Riven turned and took her leave. Just what the hell had gotten into her? "Who are you..." the assassin mumbled quietly to herself, "and what have you done with the Riven I knew...?" The truth was, Katarina didn't know why all a sudden Riven was behaving so coldly towards everyone. What happened to the Riven that didn't mind helping the weaker of her classmates improve when others had given up on them and the higher ups weren't around? The Riven that was a big goof and smiled too damn much. The Riven that never left her alone after she crawled back to Noxus half dead because she couldn't keep her passions in check. The Riven she, Katarina Du Couteau, heir to the house of a long line of great Noxian assassins, loved as a best friend. She felt genuinely bothered enough to confront Brigadier General Alden.
Hearing a knock, Bryce looked up from his head from resting in his arms; blue eyes focusing on the door for a couple moments. "Come in," he finally managed to answer. He sat up straight as the young Du Couteau assassin stepped into his office, "Lady Du Couteau? What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?" Brigadier General Alden tried his best not to stare at the young woman's new "addition."
"Lady Du Couteau was my mother and can remain as my sister's thing," she responded flatly, even though her voice withheld hints of concern.
Bryce picked up on the tone right away, "is something troubling you, Katarina?"
The fiery-haired assassin nodded slightly as she stepped up to Alden's desk, "I'm not sure who else to ask since she doesn't really socialize with others unless there is training involved, but," Katarina paused for a moment as she tried to block out Riven being an ass just minutes before, "what the hell is wrong with Riven?"
Bryce shook his head, "she's just angry about Titus being named Commander of Fury Company. Personally, and I mean this with utmost most respect when I say it; Just what is High Command thinking? Riven is the best student to come out of this school since you know who. She's been swinging around that broadsword since the steel was taller than she was. The rest of her peer's respect her. I know she's more of the hard work and be alone while doing it type, but that does not mean you are unfit to lead soldiers..." Alden sighed deeply. "She hasn't been the same since the fire."
"Alden..." Katarina mumbled, knowing how irrational Riven got when she was mad or frightened, "I have this gut wrenching feeling that Riven is going to do something incredibly stupid."
The Brigadier General stood up from his chair.
Focus.
The sharp edge of the steel broadsword sunk deep into the wooden training dummy's side, splintering the heavy wood and knocking it down to the training floor. The blade pulled free from the fallen wooden body and returned to its ready position.
Decisive Action.
The warrior swung the hilt of the blade upward, jabbing the pommel of the weapon into the hardwood jaw of another false enemy. The force cracked the wooden jawline and the dummy fell over. Within the same fluid motion the soldier stepped forward, shifting her weight and driving the length of the blade into the torso of another wooden soldier near by.
Finesse.
Burning orbs of crimson bored into the hallow holes for eyes of the impaled opponent. Beads of sweat trickled down the soldier's face from the snowy hairline and dripped from her chin as she brought the impaled dummy's face closer to her own.
"Strength over body..." Riven grumbled, extending her arms forward and holding the weight sword outward along with the dummy. "Strength over mind..." Riven's voice started to grow in volume as her arms slowly started to lift the blade up. The warrior opened her hips and took a step back as she brought the blade over the top of her head and swung it back down in an arched swing. "Strength over all!" Riven shouted as the dummy slid off the blade and slammed down onto the floor. The broadsword smashed down into the training room floor from the force of the swing's follow through. "These are the traits that lead people, rule Kingdoms and conquer civilizations!" The Sergeant Major dropped down to a knee and leaned her weight against the hilt of her weapon. Her shoulders heaved deep breaths and body covered in a sheen of shimmering sweat. Muscles were tight and exhausted from the workload she always put upon them, but the results of that work were clear in her physique. "It is all that I believe in now..." she whispered breathlessly.
The mortally damaged wooden body clunked against the floor as it was thrown free of the blade and rolled away violently from the force. The limp wooden soldier finally rolled to its resting place; jaw gaping and body still. The lifeless holes for eyes felt even more so as it faced its slayer.
Crimson eyes shifted to return the fallen dummy's dead gaze, lungs still laboring in air with extreme need. "What am I missing?" Riven whispered to herself, still holding the training dummy's eyes with her own. "Where am I going wrong...?" Her line of sight began to shift, taking in the damage she had inflicted to the false enemy soldiers; their corpses lying motionless around her. The air was cold and whether the fallen were ever real people or not...Riven felt a shift in her disposition. Never before had being solitary bothered her while she worked on herself, but this time felt different. The Sergeant Major, truly felt alone. There was a deep guilt rolling through her heart. "I'm so sorry, Kat..." she whispered to herself. Riven knew her words hurt her friend, and she may have gone to far.
"Very impressive," a soothing and deep voice complimented over the sound of soft clapping.
Riven attention snapped to the source of sound that disrupted the silence, "G-Grand General," Riven stammered and tried to stand up from the floor and present herself at attention, her muscles protesting with every shifting fiber.
"Stay yourself, Sergeant Major," Darkwill held his hand out to stop her, "You've earned your rest. Take it."
Riven sighed softly in relief and collapsed her weight back down against the hilt of her sword.
Boram Darkwill chuckled deeply as he walked around the room to examine the beaten remains of his soldier's handy work, "My, my," his smirk was pleasured, "I knew your death would have been a terrible waste. Now look at you; Primed and strong. Leading by example! Ten ranks! Ten ranks in less than a year!" Darkwill threw his arms out in a presenting manner towards the result of Riven's havoc and bellowed out a laugh that was filled with pride. "My girl, you have never ceased to impress me since the day I let you walk free of the gallows," the Grand General turned to look back at his recovering Noxian poster child, "However," Darkwill took slow steps back towards Riven, "Something is on your mind. I can see it all over your face, bright, like the blood of your fallen enemies. Tell me, my young prodigy, what ales your thoughts?"
Even after all these years, Boram Darkwill looked unchanged to her. Riven lowered her eyes for a short while, "Permission to speak, Grand General."
"The permission is yours, if you so choose to act upon it."
The soldier took a deep breath, "I know the traits of great warriors and the ideals of what it means to be a proud leader..." Riven's gaze shifted up to meet the Grand General's slate colored eyes, "Yet...I am missing something," Riven lowered her head. "Please, tell me, Grand General, what do I lack that is forcing me to follow and not lead Fury Company?"
The Grand General stood before his subordinate silently for a short while, "It is a trait that one cannot be taught by others."
Riven looked up at Darkwill.
"Only you can find that answer for yourself," The Grand General said as he rubbed the beard upon his jaw.
The young soldier bowed her head down, "Yes, Grand General." Riven remained silent as she stared at the floor, mentally struggling to pick through what Darkwill had meant with his answer. She was running low on time to convince him, and the rest of High Command, that she was one worthy of leading. The sound of Darkwill's receding footsteps caught her attention.
"Sergeant Major Riven," the Grand General addressed back.
The exhausted warrior lifted her head to acknowledge her superior's call.
"Isn't there a ceremony beginning soon?"
Riven gasped in shock as her eyes shot up to the clock upon the wall. The soldier frantically fumbled to her feet and collected her things. She was doomed if she was late.
Boram Darkwill shook his head, a small smirk of amusement upon his strong features, as he watched the rushed soldier run out of the training hall.
Riven slowed down and stopped in the doorway. The young soldier turned, shoulders straight and posture tall as she faced her Grand General once more, "Grand General," her voice was strong and direct, instantly catching the attention of Darkwill.
Steel grey eyes quietly met the blazing crimson gaze of his prodigal soldier, "First Lieutenant?" His voice teased at the rank he knew she didn't want.
"Tapporauta."
A proud smirk crept across Boram Darkwill's strong face.
Raging pain flared in her side as Riven jerked herself away from Irelia and her hands grabbed at her side. Terrified crimson eyes focused on the hilt deep devil of a weapon sunk into her hip. The ambiance of roaring voices chanting the words of her demise.
PULL. IT. OUT. PULL. IT. OUT.
Riven's hand gripped down on the hilt to keep the weapon securely sheathed in her side as she shoved the figure in front of her back. Pushing with her right leg, Riven tried to push herself away through the dirt to create some distance, the agonizing burn from the injury radiated through ever fiber of her body.
"R-Riven...?" Irelia's voice shook as she sat back up from being pushed back.
RIP IT OUT, COMMANDER!
Darkwill's voice was clear through the chaos, her own hand wrapped around the hilt of her own knife, sheathed into the chest of her opponent. Darkwill called her Commander. Isn't that what she wanted? Wasn't that why she was here, fighting to the death with nothing but a sawtooth knife against her superior in front of their peers like staving animals in a cage over food...? Survival of the fittest...? The strongest...
She could see his face clear as day. The face of her brother. The betrayal written all over his expression hurt her more than Titus' knife in her side. His hesitation to pull out his own knife just moments before...spared her. She could feel the warm blood spatter onto her face as that word she despised so much rolled free on his dying breath.
Why...?
Her body shook violently as her brain repeated that word, over and over and over again and again. Hot tears started to collect in her eyes.
"Riven..." Irelia didn't move, trying not to provoke the apprehensive Noxian any further, the exile's palm pressed against against her chest, holding her away firmly. A firm frown pulled at her lips as she pushed Riven's arm to the side and dropped to her knees and grabbed onto Riven.
Riven didn't resist the Captain, allowing her exhausted and numb self to be pulled forward into the comforting embrace of her...she didn't know what to think of Irelia anymore. Her body was still shaking from the trauma of her little episode as her head rest against Irelia's chest, hot tears rolling free of her eyes and down her cheeks.
Irelia said nothing; what more could be said? The Captain rest her chin upon Riven's head and she just held onto her friend tightly, not wanting to let go, not wanting to leave her there to face those memories alone. Witnessing Riven's distress and fear was enough to shake even her.
"To take a life..." Riven rasped as she sat there in Irelia's embrace. The whimper to follow caused the arms around her to tighten, "that was the last trait...that's what they wanted of me...they did it on purpose...they made Titus Captain on purpose...to test me..." Riven fought back the urge to sob, "I killed my own brother...I broke my promise to Madera...and took my own brother's life...because I was scared and jealous of letting him lead Fury Company..."
Irelia didn't know what to say. No amount of words will make this go away. Nothing will ever make this better. This trauma ran deeper than just a shell shocked veteran of war. How long has Riven been alone with this? Ghosts cannot comfort her but the ghosts are all she's had. Not anymore.
"I never promise anything...unless I know... I can keep it..." Riven mumbled.
"Come on," Irelia's voice was gentle as she helped the exile find her feet, "this is enough for today, let's get you back inside so you can lay down."Irelia pulled Riven's arm over her shoulder.
Riven was heavy against the Captain's shoulder as the Noxian half drug her feet back to Irelia's home. The exile silently laid down onto her bedding and didn't want to find the energy to move ever again. After a couple moments of silence, Riven could hear Irelia's retreating steps, "Irelia...?"
The Captain stopped and turned back around, "Yes? Do you need me to get you anything?"
Riven remained silent for a couple moments more, the subtle soft glow from the remains rune sword propped up against the wall she did not find as comforting she usually did. "Please stay..." The lingering silence felt like an eternity as Riven laid there on her stomach, her mouth curving into a depressed frown. The sound of fading footsteps made her heart sink. She couldn't blame the Captain for wanting to not stay, she is a tough individual to live with. Riven's eyes flicked opened again as footsteps walked into her space and Irelia sat down against the wall she was facing next to her rune blade.
"Just needed to grab something," Irelia said apologetically, her voice soft.
"No worries," Riven whispered, feeling comfortable again as she closed her eyes.
After a good few minutes, Irelia could tell that exhaustion had claimed the exile, Riven's soft snoring enough to make her smile gently. "You totally do snore..." Irelia whispered through a chuckle. The Captain pulled the paper up onto the surface of a book in her lap and started to write.
Lux,
I look forward to seeing you at the festival in the next couple weeks. I have learned some things about Riven and I feel that progress can be made but no amount of external counseling will put an end to her suffering. She seems to confide in me so I won't disclose anything too personal as a respect to that, but, there is something I feel like you need to know.
War did not create this.
...
Noxus did.