Summary: The Noxian soldiers that died during the Zaunite bombardment were just used as a distraction while the majority of the Noxian forces infiltrated the Ionian capital overwhelming the remaining city guards and ending the war in Noxus' victory. Riven lost a lot that day. Her friends, her home, her ideals, her honor… She didn't flee from Noxus, however, and stayed with the rest of the Noxian forces occupying Ionian, letting herself simply fade in the background.
Tags: Riven, Ahri, Irelia, Katarina, Drama.
It is the sounds of loud laughter and screaming that rouse the hooded warrior from her sleep. Bloodshot red eyes slowly open drowsily examining the overturned empty rum bottle still resting beneath a scarred palm. Riven mumbles something against the table before the pale Noxian commander's eyes slowly close.
"Please, stop!" The feminine voice that had previously startled the inebriated commander in the first place shouts again with a delectable flare of despair. "She's had enough! You're killing her!"
"Good!" Answers one of the sneering drunk Noxian soldiers. "One less Ionian bitch to worry about! Am I right, boys?" The other Noxians in the room either cheer, or whistle, the Ionian servers on the other hand avert their eyes and hang their heads low in a display of shame.
Riven growls quietly as she attempts to get back to sleep even with the cheering of the tavern's patrons reverberating against the mud-brick walls and the scared woman's wails filling up her ears. Drunken fights like this between Ionians and their Noxian conquerors were quite frequent after all, especially when the collars of obedience rendered the Ionians practically harmless and vulnerable. The enslaved Ionian people had soon learned to keep their heads down.
"I apologize for her spilling your drinks!" The crying Vastayan woman continues over the sound of violent thuds and loud groans as her wounded companion is repetitively stomped against the dusty floor boards. "I will buy you new drinks! A second and a third round, even. Just please, let my friend go. You've surely punished her enough, look she is barely breathing!"
"If that's all there is to a former Ionian hero, then perhaps breathing is too good for her!" Growls another inebriated soldier as he approaches the crying Vastayan woman. The Noxian warrior passes by Riven's table, accidentally bumping shoulders with the hunched swordswoman as he moves towards Ahri with heavy quick strides.
Riven frowns with her left cheek still pressed against the filthy wooden table, but doesn't really react to the happenings taking place around her otherwise.
Wet coughing starts echoing across the tense room, the unpleasant sound emanating from the collapsed figure that's lying on the dusty floor boards. The scared Vastayan woman's voice rises as she wraps her arms pleadingly around the elbow of an angry burly man.
"P-please, just stop. Let's just have a drink and get to know each other better, don't we?" The fox Vastayan's eyes momentary flicker with primal mana, before the runic collar around her neck grows a sickly green light and Ahri collapses on her knees with a pained shudder running though her body. The burly soldier's eyes widen in realization.
"Witchcraft!" Screams the drunk soldier at once. "The treacherous Ionian whore has just tried bewitching me!"
Ahri painfully lifts up her head, a delicate hand grasping at her sore collared throat and wet amber orbs that are visibly glinting with unshed tears trailing towards the Noxian man. "I'm sorry," The terrified fox pleads with a scratchy voice. "I'm so sorry, but you were going to kill my friend. P-please, forgive me." She whimpers pathetically.
The Noxian invader growls as he deftly pulls his arm out of the panicked Vastayan's grip and slaps Ahri with all his might. "Treacherous filth, you will die for that!' The scowling soldier grunts as Ahri's body collapses next to Riven's chair with much noise.
The inebriated commander's head slowly rises from the hard stained wood.
"Stop with all the damn ruckus," Riven slurs as her cold scarlet glare is aimed at the small company of drunken soldiers that are currently standing by the bar. "I'm trying to sleep here, so if you guys want to measure your dicks, just go do it outside."
"How about I measure your height with your head chopped off, bitch!" Splutters the red-faced burly man. Mere seconds before the drunken warrior can walk up to the frowning albino swordswoman and make his threat a grim reality, one of his more sober companions grabs him by the shoulder and forcibly drags him away from Riven.
"Why the fuck did you stop me, man? I was going to teach that bitch a lesson!" The enraged leader of the Noxian party yells at his friend through gritted teeth. Another soldier however takes a closer look at the unimpressed hooded swordswoman and nearly faints on the spot from surprise.
"That woman over there that you are about to challenge is Commander Riven of the disbanded Fury Company!" The somber soldier hisses lowly and the rest of the Noxians stiffen when they learn the identity of the inebriated swordswoman they were just about to attack.
"C-Commander Riven?!" Suddenly stutters the previously angry man, all color and confidence suddenly draining from his face. "The same Commander Riven that came out alive from the Zaunite's chemical barrage? The pale ghost of Fury Company that can kill with the same ease that she's breathing?!"
"The very same" Riven mutters groggily as she stands up from her rickety chair and sluggishly approaches the bar. The Noxian soldiers make way for her as the albino warrior taps her hand on the counter two times.
"Another round of the same one, and make it a double, can't quiet remember the drink's name." The drunken Commander slurs as she glances at the tense bartender behind the counter. The terrified Ionian boy that's standing behind the bar, less than sixteen winters old, mutely nods his head hastily and Riven's maroon-colored orbs flicker at once towards the figure lying on the bloodstained ground.
"Captain Lito?" The albino swordswoman says as if just noticing the wheezing former Ionian Captain that's splayed on the floor, blood leaking from Irelia's torn lips and her broken nose. "What the fuck are you doing down there?"
"P-Please, please, help my friend." Ahri begs the stoic inebriated woman at that short moment of respite. "They hit Irelia really hard, some of her ribs are certainly broken, she is going to need a healer soon if she is going to make it!"
Red eyes slowly flickers to wet amber ones, before Riven absentmindedly grabs her new drink from the trembling bartender's hands and downs the strong liquor in one go. "And what's that have to do with me, hm?" Mutters the buzzed Noxian commander. "I just want people to let me drink in peace. Captain Lito, yourself, hell even the Noxian High Command can all slit their throats for all I care. I just want to be left alone."
The small crowd of Noxian soldiers shuffles about awkwardly, and yet they know better than to attempt to execute Riven on the spot for high treason. The sole surviving member of the legendary Fury Company was above law in a sense after the end of the war. The former Noxian commander had never been officially relived from her duties or left the army per se, but everyone knew that the High Command was happy paying Riven's salary if that meant that the now unpredictable rogue warrior would spend more time drinking herself into a stupor and less cleaving rude soldiers' heads left and right.
"Then send someone to look for a healer for Irelia, and all of your drinks for the rest of the night will be put on my tab." Ahri tries to reason with the brooding fair-skinned woman as she locks eyes with the hooded albino swordswoman over the rim of another shot glass. The Noxian warrior's eyes narrow in suspicion.
"You wouldn't be in this filthy cesspool of a tavern so late at night if you've had that kind of coin on you, sly little fox."
Ahri has to try really hard to stop the panic surging within her heart from showing on her face. "I have the gold," The fox Vastayan says with what she hopes is an air of confidence and an offended glare. "Send for a healer for my friend, and my gold coins will turn into your favorite liquor." The pale swordswoman's frown only darkens, however.
"I really dislike liars." Riven growls while slamming down her shot glass shattering it in the process. The fox Vastayan flinches at the loud sound, but does her best to maintain the mask of sincerity worn on her sweating face.
"I'm not a liar," Ahri states confidently at once "I have enough gold coins on me for you to drink to your heart's conte-"
"Tell me the truth, Ionian fox." Riven cuts off the other woman's frustrated rumbling with a sharp tone. "Do you have any gold on you at all?"
Ahri's eyes instantly grow the size of sauces as she feels her obedience collar heating up slightly around her neck. The damn collar! The black-haired woman thinks in near hysteria. Ahri had forgotten about the magical item that forced Ionian citizens to blindly carry out their Noxians conquerors' orders. As if out of their own volition, the vixen's lips part as new tears start rolling down the scared Vastayan mage's drained visage.
"No." Ahri hears herself saying aloud, and the hooded swordswoman snorts producing a mirthless sound devoid of any surprise.
"That's what I thought. The deal's off." Riven raps her knuckle's against the bar. "Another shot of Tar-Rum, and leave the bottle here this time." The young bartender merely nods his head and so Riven's attention returns back to the squirming Ionian trickster. Meanwhile a few paces away from the trembling fox Irelia makes an attempt to stand up and defend her friend only to collapse with her back pressed against the bar, a hoarse shout of immense pain ripping out from the Captain's mouth.
"Please," Ahri whispers fearfully while staring straight at those emotionless faded sanguine orbs. "Irelia needs a healer, or she will die."
"That's not my problem." The heartless Noxian butcher replies. Ahri's heart shatters, the enslaved spell caster's veins flooding with dread and pure hopelessness.
"Now, now, Rivy," A mischievous feminine voice makes the room's occupants turn towards the establishment's open door. "Don't turn down the cute vixen just yet, there might be some other way for her to compensate you."
Katarina confidently strolls in like a predator on the prowl. A cruel smile dancing on the fierce redhead's lips as she squats next to the nearly unconscious Captain Lito and takes a good look at the warrior's dirty, bloodstained face.
"Her friend can also be of some use when her face isn't a pile of broken bones." Katarina comments whilst pushing some of Irelia's raven locks behind the panting Ionian's ear almost affectionately.
"Then you can have them. I have no need for slaves, Du Couteau." Mumbles Riven as she presses her pulsating forehead against the cool bar. Katarina's mischievous smile instantly disappears, the assassin's piercing emerald-colored orbs suddenly becoming akin to two twin jadestone daggers.
"I have my own Ionians if I ever feel like sating my needs, Riv. You however need someone to carry you home after you get wasted and pass out on the bar table. An obedient servant to make sure that I won't find you dead one day and stuffed in a dumpster."
Riven simply grumbles something against the cool wooden bar and then starts to snore lightly. Katarina briefly pauses to roll her eyes at the slumbering albino swordswoman, before turning back to face the anxious fox mage.
"So vixen, do you want the job or not?" The Noxian assassin grins and Ahri takes a second to spare a glance at the waiting crowd of angry soldiers and Irelia's beaten form, before nodding her head at the Noxian heiress reluctantly.
"Stellar!" Katarina's Cheshire cat smile widens immensely. "I didn't even have to stab your friend to speed up things. You have a bright future ahead of you, vixen."
Ahri isn't so sure about that, but slowly nods her head in agreement regardless of it and tries to smile.