Believe it or not I started writing this before the reveal of Yone, the spirit blossom festival and the new stories about Riven and the second Noxian invasion came out. I have been sitting on it for months trying to decide if the story can progress any farter. This piece is disgustingly and uncharacteristically sweet for my tastes to the point that working on it almost made me nauseous. The story is somewhat incomplete and I had to split it in two parts due to it being around 7.5 K words while being unedited -and editing somehow makes the word count shoot through the roof for me.
Tags: 'relia, Reben, Yuri, Lighthearted Fluff-Fest, Teeth-Cavities, Bad Writing.
Lunar Revel
Paper lanterns were hanging above the crowded streets illuminating happy parents and smiling faces. Most people were wearing the strange decorative robes that were exclusive to Ionia, the flourishing kimonos that tailors all over Valoran were attempting to reproduce and Piltovian merchants eagerly bought in extravagant prices.
Cheers and yelps of excitement rose from a nearby stall where Shojin monks dressed in bright colors and adorning traditional masks performed for the children that had gathered around their wares. A man with a demon mask was waving his arms in the air, attempting to sway another monk with promises of power while the meditating monk that was wearing the elderly man mask feigned indifference.
Hidden in the shadows of a small tea house with a steaming cup of tea waiting on the table in front of her, Riven allowed her gaze to rest on the twirling and jumping monks that were now fighting.
Riven tried to guess what the play was about, she searched her blurry memories of her brief stay on Ionian soil during the war for appropriate tales that suited the monks' performance. She had learned a few legends about tree spirits and deities disguised as animals while breaking bread with the occasional refugee she had stumbled upon after her self-exile, yet an old man fighting with a demon didn't ring any bells.
Perhaps the play was something that the Shojin monks had come up with on the spot, a tale about good prevailing over evil. Ionians really loved their morals.
A burly figure drew the Exile's attention, her gaze following the tall silhouette of Darius as the Noxian general strode amongst the crowd, trailing behind a laughing Draven with a sour expression on his face. For a moment their eyes met, and Riven could have sworn that Darius had mouthed 'help me' before his brother had suddenly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him closer to a stall where children could play a throwing game.
Riven smiled at the scene. It was certainly a pity that she hadn't been able to admire Darius suffocate inside his new kimono from up-close, but at least now she knew that she hadn't been the only Noxian that Karma had invited to the Lunar Revel. Absentmindedly, the Exile wondered if the Duchess' olive branch had also been extended to the likes of Swain and assassins like Talon and Katarina. For some reason Riven doubted that the governing council of Ionian Elders would condone the presence of assassins participating in the festivities.
"Riven, is that you?"
The Exile stiffens at the use of her name. 'I am allowed here', Riven reminds herself, but although she knows that Karma and the Head Summoner had agreed to her attending the Lunar Revel, Riven can't help but feel reluctant about mingling with the crowd of happy celebrators. The pale Exile doesn't want to stand out. As a former Noxian soldier there are bound to be people here that are harboring a grudges against her for her involvement in the attacks during the war.
Riven conceals her displeasure at someone recognizing her as she turns her head to face the speaker, her hand already grasping for coins inside her pocket to pay for her tea and leave the establishment.
The former soldier pauses when her scarlet orbs settle on the beaming face of Ahri, a fellow League champion that Riven has never had any disputes with. A light groan from beside the mischievous Vastayan prompts the pale swordswoman to examine the red-faced person that Ahri is trying to support with her arm wrapped around their shoulders.
Irelia groans once more, her legs moving and shaking clumsily and the Nine-Tailed Fox almost drops her, barely managing to keep the both of them standing. "Help me sit her down on the sofa." Ahri pleas, desperation evident in the quivering of her body as she tries to refrain from letting go of Irelia despite the intense ache in her muscles.
"Fine," Riven sighs as she takes the tipsy Ionian from the arms of the fox and carefully places her on the bamboo sofa next to her, only for Irelia to instantly lean sideways and bodily collapse against her shoulder.
"Sorry about that," Ahri apologizes with an easy grin, "I managed to convince Irelia to join me for a bottle of scorpion-tail sake. Unfortunately, it appears that she is a lightweight." Her grin stretches wider.
"And here you are." Riven responds, nodding with her head towards the inebriated woman that is clutching her shoulder for emphasis, and hoping that Ahri will get the hint and pull her friend off of her, so that she can leave.
"And here we are." Hums the fox Vastaya, totally oblivious to Riven's discomfort as she tilts her head slightly to watch Irelia mumble incoherently propped against the shoulder of the Noxian.
The Exile waits patiently for Ahri to realize that she is being a nuisance to her, but seconds turn to minutes while the Ionian mage simply stares at her with a small smile. The fox ears at the top of her head occasionally twitching to the sounds coming from the street and the throngs of people celebrating the Lunar Revel.
"Well, it was nice meeting you here, Ahri, but I think I'll be on my way now." Riven starts after a while, gently pushing Irelia away from her in order to stand up.
The white-haired warrior places three copper coins on the table, and Riven is about to get up when Ahri abruptly takes a hold of her appendage, lightly grasping the Noxian swordswoman's hand with both of her palms. Puzzled by the Vastayan's actions, Riven stares at the Ionian champion in confusion.
"A-actually!" Ahri blurts out hurriedly, her fluffy tails wagging behind her and a saccharine, evidently forced smile, plastered on her face, "I was hoping that you would be willing to watch over Irelia for a couple of minutes while I try to find Lee Sin. I can't carry her home on my own, you see." Ahri giggles nervously, yet refuses to release the Exile's hand without an answer, and even goes as far as to rub soothing circles with her thumb on it.
"Pretty, please?" Ahri begged, leaning uncomfortably close to Riven's face when the latter hesitates to answer, "I can't just leave her alone with all these people coming here for the Lunar Revel. What if some jerk tries to take advantage of her while I'm searching for Lee? What if Irelia decides to wander about on her own and attempts to cross the street, and she gets trampled to death by a parade or something? Karma is going to kill me!" She exclaims exaggeratedly.
"But leaving her with me is fine?" The former soldier inquired, raising a white eyebrow in question. Riven chalked off Ahri's lack of empathy concerning her supposed friend being caught in a potentially lethal accident as a byproduct of the Vastayan's whimsical attitude.
The Nine-Tailed Fox wasn't a bad person at heart, although there were times that her mischievous personality, animal-like curiosity and spontaneous nature made strangers misunderstand her real intentions.
Still, even someone as unconcerned about social etiquette and politics as Ahri would certainly understand why placing the well-being of an Ionian war hero in the hands of a former Noxian invader would be a bad idea. Surely…
"Of course! You're a part of the League and that makes you trustworthy!" The Ionian fox exclaimed, looking at the frowning woman in front of her as if she was a particularly slow child that couldn't understand why foxes were better than wolves in every way possible.
'What about all the untrustworthy people that are in the League too? Like Gangplank, Singed or Elise?' Riven wanted to ask, but seeing the expectant, hopeful look on the mage's face and her big golden eyes that glistered like those of a puppy dog that wanted a hug, the pale swordswoman felt her resolve crumbling and her throat drying out.
"Do you even know where Lee is right now?" Riven asked instead, already regretting entertaining Ahri's suggestion.
"I do, he and some other monks are going to give a big martial arts demonstration at the central plaza in half an hour or so." The Vastayan woman grinned as if proud of herself for being able to answer the Noxian swordswoman's question. The fox ears atop her head even seemed to perk up a bit and her tails swooshed behind her, excitedly.
For a short, terrifying moment the Noxian champion wondered if Ahri was expecting for her to pet her for remembering the Shojin monk's location. She wondered if the fox believed that she had to be rewarded for contributing to their now common cause and helping to fix the mess that she had made in the first place.
"Alright, I will stay with Irelia until you are back with Lee Sin." Riven sighed in resignation after a moment of mulling over Ahri's predicament and their current circumstances.
Honestly, there was no good reason for her to deny the mage's request. Plus, Riven felt that proving useful and helping the poor girl was the least she could do to thank Karma for inviting her to the Lunar Revel.
"Great!" Ahri chirped loudly, "Have fun you two!" She winked at her fellow champions, before darting to the nearby street and disappearing in the crowd with a last little wave.
"Dumb fox, saying whatever she wants and sticking her nose into other people's business. Who would want to spend quality time with a Noxian? Stupid, stupid! Ahri." Irelia grumbled quietly, initially attempting to get up and create some distance between herself and the Exile. The Ionian's body however soon started to lean sideways until the Blade Dancer's head fell back against Riven's shoulder.
"Practically nobody I guess." Riven murmured to herself, finally taking a sip from her teacup that was decorated with tasteful floral patterns in shades of green and blue. Closing her crimson eyes while enjoying the rich taste of the lukewarm liquid, the Exiled missed Irelia winching at her own lack of tact.
0000
Riven set down the teacup on the table, the last drops of her cold tea sloshing to the bottom of the porcelain container. The pale swordswoman focused on the bitter aftertaste that lingered in her mouth as her eyes searched the dispensing crowd of Ionian passersby for Ahri or Lee Sin.
The Lunar Revel would come to an end soon and small groups of Ionians dressed in celebratory garbs were heading home for the night, clenching cheap items that they had won from game stalls in their hands, or chatting about a play that they had watched with their loved ones.
Occasionally, people would glance towards the deserted tea place and narrow their eyes at the white-haired foreigner that sat there as they passed by her table. Their happy faces would darken then, their smiles would vanish as their postures became agitated and guarded.
The parents that recognized the former Noxian through seeing her fight in public broadcasts of League matches would push their children behind them protectively and glare at the pale swordswoman as if to intimidate her and prevent her from causing trouble.
Ironically enough, the presence of the inebriated Ionian hero sitting beside the solitary Exile seemed to only make the locals more uncomfortable. Strangers regarded Riven with suspicion and looks of disgust while elderly women frowned at her and Irelia in blatant disapproval.
'Why are they are looking at me like this? Do they think that I got their precious idol drunk so I could get in her pants?' Riven wondered bemused after witnessing a lanky youth frantically glance between her and Irelia as if contemplating to quickly grab the Blade Dancer and run away with her, before he saw Riven watching him and hastened his step, his shoulders sagging down by the weight of his cowardly choice.
"Why do you use war paint to hide your scars?" Irelia's voice, dazed and uncharacteristically soft-spoken brought Riven back to reality. Turning to stare in confusion at the flustered Blade Dancer that had been playing with a lock of her ivory hair until that moment, the Exile was momentary stunned by the genuine concern she could read in the Ionian's gaze.
"Huh?" The Noxian muttered lamely, suddenly out of her depth and uncertain of how to deal with the inebriated dancer that appeared to be sad for some reason.
"You are so breathtakingly beautiful, but you hide your features behind these crude white smudges," Irelia murmured softly, raising her hand to gently caress Riven's cheek with her thumb, "It is such a pity," She continued, her doubts and inhibitions disintegrating in an unprecedented surge of bravery caused by her alcohol-induced stupor, "I want to see all of you one day."
Despite her attempt to maintain a neutral expression and the fact that Irelia probably didn't catch her own innuendo, Riven felt her face heating up at the Blade Dancer's admittance.
The pale swordswoman cursed her fair complexion that made her faint blush even more prominent in Irelia's eyes. Pretending to drink the miniscule amount of tea that was in her teacup, Riven used her sipping as an excuse to cover her burning face from the other champion. For her part, blissfully unaware of the result of her actions, Irelia went back to playing with the Noxian's hair, braiding her short locks with a content look on her face.
Unsure for how long she could keep pretending that she was sipping her non-existent tea, Riven was thankful for the distraction when the establishment's owner calmly approached their table.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, esteemed customers, but if you wouldn't mind I would like to clean up the tables and close up for the night." The elderly man said with a slight bow, sounding truly apologetic even though he looked tired beyond belief.
"Certainly," Riven nodded, adding two more copper coins next to the ones lying beside her teacup, "I'm sorry for keeping you here until this late. Would you like some help tidying up this place?" She asked, feeling guilty for forcing the elderly man to keep the establishment open when he was visibly tired.
"No, no, I can't possibly accept your help, esteemed customer. My honor won't allow me to burden guests with my menial chores, especially on a night of celebration," The Ionian chuckled good-naturedly, sending the Noxian woman and her company a wide toothless smile.
"Younglings such as yourselves should leave work to us, old folk, and have fun on the Lunar Revel. Make some happy memories while you can, because nobody knows what the future holds, not even the Enlightened One." He concluded, his initially raspy voice now filled with certainty and his faded brown eyes adopting a wise, parental glow.
"I appreciate the advice." Riven responded, her tone more hostile and biting than she had intended it to be. The former soldier had grown up on the mean streets of Noxus as an orphan and wasn't so naïve as to believe that life was all sunshine and rainbows.
Even before the war, Riven had seen and done things that no human being should ever experience. She wouldn't suffer anyone treating her like a child, much less a complete stranger that thought that all of Valoran's problems would be solved if people 'went out and had fun' as he put it.
"Old Wujin knows what he is talking about, so you should listen to him," The elderly man said after a short pause, not in the least bit offended by the abrupt change in the Noxian's tone, "Time gives as much as it takes. It corrodes our dreams, yet it gives us the chance to rebuild what it has previously destroyed." He insisted stubbornly, ignoring the foreign swordswoman's fierce glare.
"Building a dream is easier with more than two hands, remember that." The Ionian stated simply, winking towards Irelia before turning around and heading back into the main building. Seething in anger, Riven scoffed at his direction.
"I swear that everybody in this country thinks that they are a well of infinite wisdom." She growled, averting her gaze from the back of the infuriating man to see if the Blade Dancer was still relatively lucid.
The younger woman had been exceptionally quiet for a drunk, refraining from exhibiting the loud yelling and boastful behavior that Riven had come to expect from wasted individuals after dragging boozed squad mates home in the past. The former soldier wouldn't be surprised if Irelia had fallen asleep on top of her, judging by how quiet and still the Ionian hero was against her shoulder.
As luck would have it, Irelia was wide awake and staring at the departing elderly man fixedly, her eyes wide in shock, her body stiff like a board, and an alarming amount of pink coloring her face.
"Are you alright?" Riven asked, concerned by the sheer redness of the dancer's face, only to blink, utterly perplexed when Irelia's impossibly wide orbs suddenly snapped towards her to meet her crimson eyes. Her breath hitching audibly, the Ionian woman nodded sharply whilst staring at the Noxian before her like a deer caught in the sight of a Void-dweller.
"Are you sure that you're okay? Your face is redder than Katarina's hair at the moment." Riven pointed out, leaning forward to press her forehead against Irelia's. The Noxian could have sworn that she heard a kettle whistling somewhere nearby, before Irelia hastily shoved her away from her, the dancer's skin radiating heat like a pyre while her cheeks were painted an even brighter shade of red.
"I said that I'm fine!" The Ionian champion blurted out, too self-conscious to stare the pale woman in front of her in the eyes, her traitorous heart going 'doki doki' inside her chest.
'Could Riven hear it?' Irelia inwardly wondered, dreading the answer, 'Had she been found out, or was she safe for the time being?' The other champion was merely observing her with a puzzled expression and the Ionian thanked the Spirit of the First Lands that Noxians were dense when it came to identifying the feelings of others.
"Can we just leave, already? There is a place that I want to visit before the Lunar Revel officially ends." Irelia motioned for the other woman to lift her, impatiently, swaying in her seat a little now that Riven wasn't supporting her weight.
The Noxian swordswoman grunted in affirmation. It had been an hour since Ahri had left to seek out Lee, so it was practically guaranteed that the fox had bailed on her. With chances of either the Vastayan or Lee coming here being as slim as they were, there was no point in sticking around the tea place anymore, unless Riven wanted to garner more dirty looks from upset parents and boisterous teenagers.
"Fine, I guess." Riven hummed, bending down to lift the younger woman and carry her on her shoulders the same way that she had learned to carry injured comrades on the battlefield during her years of service. The pale swordswoman could as well see where Irelia wanted to go, and maybe they would be able to find more Ionian champions there to help the Blade Dancer get back home.
"I don't want to be carried like this!" Irelia instantly protested, lightly hitting the Exile's arm with her palms and hissing like an angry cat that had been disturbed in its sleep, "If you really have to carry me, at least carry me like a princess." She whined.
Riven blinked slowly, unsure if she had heard Irelia correctly. The former soldier waited in silence to see if the pouting drunk would repeat herself to clear what Riven assumed was a gross misunderstanding. There was no way that the rebellious and prideful Ionian war hero would want to be paraded around in her arms. There was just no way in the Void.
Yet, as the seconds passed and a crowd of curious onlookers started gathering, drawn in by the volume of Irelia's loud outburst, Riven realized that it was in her best interest to cave to the dancer's demands and flee the scene, before some misguided buffoon stepped in to defend the honor of Ionia's golden girl and things escalated beyond her control.
Exasperated at the turn of the events and regretting her decision to help Ahri, Riven scooped up Irelia in her arms, holding her close like the protagonists of the nauseating romance movies that Cassiopeia watched in the Institute's common room.
The inebriated woman released a yelp of surprise when Riven effortlessly lifted her in her arms, like Irelia had requested of her. Muffled snickering rose from the crowd as the Ionian flailed, panicking at the prospect of being dropped. Irelia wrapped her arms around Riven's neck as the Exile walked away from the smirking Ionians that were either whistling or pointing accusing fingers at the two champions.