League of Legends 1. Chapter 1

Dusk had just begun. Yasuo looked across the fire, across dancing sparks lighting up the dead space between them and saw haunted, tired eyes. And yet, they held an inkling of challenge. A resolve to make the r_ight thing_ happen after so much wrong done. Riven's spirit was indeed not lost, but like he has for so long, she was hurting. So much in Valoran is based on _factions_ and attachment to one's home. Like her sword, that connection was just obliterated.

Having that taken suddenly and entirely against their wills naturally sent them careening into an uncertain, troubled existence. Learning who you are and what's really right is hard after simply having had it told to you all your life.

Not one of the ways that each city-state heldfast to was perfect. In some way, each had strayed from that they knew was the right thing. Noxus, consumed with that endless reach for power, yet still clinging to that old claim of strength. Ionia, preaching balance in everything yet failing to understand balance itself. These two wanderers could understand each other; even through their cultural and personal differences. Their personal trials drove both to fight, with sword and word, for change. For the right thing.

Riven had that detached look that only someone looking into a fire thinking deeply could have. After feeling Yasuo's eyes on her for a short while she shifted and met his gaze.

He almost looked away as her silence gradually said more than she ever could. Riven did seem to be a woman of _very_ few words after all.

"Where will you go next?" The deep timbre of Yasuo's voice stood out in the quiet of the Ionian forest, the only sounds it brought were mostly quiet, buzzing in the foliage.

It was an unspoken, very obvious fact that neither of them could stay in Ionia right now. Both factions that currently occupied the island wanted the two of them dead. Riven looked away at something in the woods he didn't bother trying to see. The golden-red flames licked continually upward at the sky, her crimson eyes and Noxian hair reflecting their frivolous dance.

"I'm going to find somewhere safe to stay, in the mainland hopefully, for now. I can't keep..running like this."

"Shouldn't they think you're dead? From what you told me."

The slight creasing of her eyebrows and the angle at which she turned her head away told him that the answer was yes.

The silence thickened, save for a tense sigh from across the fire and Yasuo realized he knew.

Yasuo took a moment. Riven was staring into the sublime blues and wild pinks of the Ionian sunset. In the darkest parts, the stars were just peeking out, endeavoring onto the young night sky. Looking back up at the former Noxian, finally Yasuo said with more emotion than he expected, "You can't run from yourself, Riven. I've tried."

Riven tensed. She slid her eyes shut, ducked her head, and whispered, "I know."

Yasuo knew it was likely a trick of the waning sun or the cavorting flames, but the runes on that broken black sword of hers seemed to glow as she responded.

* * *

Hope this gets some reviews. If you like this, check out my Yasuo/Yone oneshot!

Anyway, expect this to have several more chapters. I've written a few ahead and will release the next one when I have finished the next few.

ONE-HIT-KO DISCLAIMER: Characters property of Riot Games. This is written for personal enjoyment and not monetary gain.


	2. Chapter 2

Riven's brow furrowed as she settled into the only quarters that the two of them could afford on the overtly seedy boat to Bilgewater. What the ship was doing delivering unmarked goods to the southern coast of Ionia, she was sure she did not want to know.

Which of course meant she already had an inkling.

The pair had agreed that the safest and most productive place for them to go to was the League of Legends. The journey would allow them to avoid serious confrontations, and thus be safe enough for both of them. What with the residence, influence, and protection it would offer them, the Institute of War was the only thing that made sense for the time being.

Neither one of them had many belongings with them in the first place. This made unpacking for the three day trip simple enough, despite the meager size of their quarters. The room was essentially two slightly questionable cots, stacked on top of the other in typical bunk fashion, extra crew supplies, and a broken mounted hextech lantern.

Slightly displeased with the lack of a window near her cot to stare out at the sea and sky, Riven exited the room with her sword, now intent on practicing her forms on the deck. It would be impossible to do so inside the glorified closet. She inwardly scoffed at the idea of actually being able to stretch her arms to their full breadth in the tiny room. Yasuo was suffering even more than she, Riven had noticed, due to his muscular build and distinctly Ionian height.

Riven wondered if, with all that muscle, he could have held her sword when it was whole.

Resolving to ignore the fact that over half of her sword was missing, Riven settled into stance in a suitable empty corner. In her days as a dutiful soldier there were but a few days that she did not go through her forms to keep her skills at 100 percent. That was when she had a broken left leg.

At this point, however, her forms were less practice and more a practiced ritual, almost like some sort of meditation. Like any highly skilled weapons user, Riven had a strong bond with her blade. To anyone that understood this, breaking it meant that much more. A wistful longing for the full weight of her zweihander wormed its way into the corner of her mind, ever reminding Riven of her true goal. As she performed some of her trademark maneuvers with blinding speed, she gradually fell into deep concentration.

This was one of Riven's few joys now.

Yasuo stood discreetly in a separate corner of the deck and watched Riven practice. Slowly and deeply, he inhaled the soothing scent of the sea. The sun was beginning to dip into the waves, lighting each fluttering peak ablaze with glimmering glory. He knew she did not notice him or much around her at the moment, not even the breathtaking scene she was at the center of. It was something that anyone dedicated to some craft could understand, the way that the rest of the world fell away whenever one gave in to it. Riven's style was mesmerizing. He found it hard to look away as she moved in place, all quick jabs and turns. Riven wasn't just practicing here.

She was dancing.

Her silver hair took on a tangerine tint where it reflected the waning sunlight, and in some way that Yasuo couldn't ignore, her brokenness seemed to transform into radiance. If only for this moment, Riven and her sword were as dazzling a spectacle as the sun melting into the sea before them. Quickly and unbidden, respect and fondness kindled for the fellow passionate swordsman, the sudden tightness in his chest taking Yasuo by surprise. Fondness, for a Noxian?

Yasuo tried to find hatred somewhere to smother his previous feeling.

It would not come.

He could see, despite her zweihander, hair and tan skin so telling of Noxian origin, that she was not in line with what Noxus had come to represent. She was mysterious but he knew the way she was fractured just like the jagged lines of her sword.

Just like him.

He didn't have anything over her. If anything, the Ionian conceded that despite their previous affiliations, they were so much alike.

Yasuo's brow drew together slightly while he continued to think. As he took in another long draught of salty air the ocean spray caught the entire side of the boat, shimmering droplets colliding with and christening the exiles in their new efforts.

Internally, Yasuo resolved to give the swordswoman the fresh start she so desperately wanted. The wanderer would hold to his honor, but not his pride. Not again.

He did not know if Riven was aware of her audience, but eventually she ended her session and returned her weapon to its place.

Dusk was finally upon the vessel as it broke off from Ionia at last, prompting both Riven and Yasuo to head back in search of their quarters. As she walked down the deck, Yasuo met her eyes with a slight grin, a decisive break from the sombre mood that plagued most of their previous conversations.

The wind picked up, swirling over and around the ship and giving the pair a sense of comfort in its familiar chill. Yasuo had opened his mouth to start speaking as Riven moved to adjust the snowy locks that obscured her vision of her fellow wayfarer.

In the twilight, with silver tresses shining with hints of the gossamer colors in the sky, Riven made his breath catch. Yasuo blinked and cleared his head to focus on what he was going to say instead of...however she'd looked in that moment. He definitely didn't need to be oogling the person he was about to share a room for the next three days with.

Recovering quickly, Yasuo began, "Uh, those are some impressive moves you have there, Riven."

Her eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. Riven didn't know what she'd been expecting, as she barely knew the man, but it had not been a compliment. He'd been watching her forms? Riven supposed it wasn't every day someone heaved around half of a gigantic sword. Not many in Noxus once she'd ascended to the Crimson Elite were unaware of her unusual weapon. It had been a long time since someone that wasn't about to be hacked to pieces had been taken off guard by her sword. Unsure of how serious he was, the exile replied with a half-smile, a thank you, and nothing more.

Yasuo's grey eyes continued to bore into her deep reds. Sensing that he may have unintentionally come off as sarcastic, he continued, "Truly, I can see you're extremely skilled. Can you actually fight with your sword in that condition?"

Riven's jaw set slightly. She knew he wasn't questioning her ability, as he'd only just praised her. Nevertheless, something about being reminded of her broken blade hurt despite his intentions. "Absolutely," came Riven's firm response, resolve threading through her tone.

The rattling gravelly quality of Yasuo's voice was highlighted by his clear excitement as he replied, "Excellent!" A smile stretched across his face as he spoke, contesting the curve of the scar across his nose.

Yasuo continued, "Would you be interested in sparring together? It's not like there is much else to do for three days."

The anticipation in the man's genuine smile took Riven by surprise. What was more surprising still was that the withering half-smile she wore almost immediately gave way to a matching full smile of her own.

The wind blew again, this time peeling Riven's fringe of white tresses back and revealing the entirety of her face. Though she was barely his acquaintance, Yasuo found he felt glad and relieved in some way to see her smile and in being the cause of it. There was that fondness again; this time, he welcomed it.

"I'd be honored."

* * *

Leave your thoughts, comments and criticism below! Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Riven couldn't deny the comfort that even a shabby cot brought over sleeping on the ground. She felt more safe than she had in some time. The charcoal black that cloaked the surprisingly cozy room didn't hold the uncertainty of the open night. Of course, companionship had helped substantially recently as well. She could hear Yasuo breathing, but his draughts of air lacked the tempo of a soul lost to sleep. Tension suddenly threaded into Riven's perception at her realization that the both of them were simply lying awake, feeling the gentle sway of the seaborne vessel and the presence of another person in the room. Riven drew a deep breath and shifted slightly, further upsetting her messy locks flayed out around her head, her bunk's creaking protests highlighting the constant _woosh_ of waves and wind whirling about the ship. She exhaled, a gust of breath that matched the persistent winds outside for just a moment.

She felt like she should say something. Exactly what, of course, evaded her. She broke the static line of her lips again not to speak, but heave yet another sigh.

Gods, Riven could _hear_ the man's smirk as he half-grunted with a low chuckle, voice rattling deep as the darkness plaguing their quarters. Something in the broken part of her marveled at how he could still joke, still smile, and still laugh. In a flash she remembered how he'd brought that out of her too with their earlier interaction on the deck. Riven hadn't minded that.

"Something the matter Riven?"

His mirth concerning the rather dull situation proved infectious. Again. Breathing a light chuckle of her own, Riven responded, "Ah, not particularly. Barring the obvious of course."

Yasuo let out a wisp of air, a sigh to match her own, and voiced his agreement. A short pause came between them, then his voice took on a slightly unfamiliar pitch as he continued, "So. Uh, I've been wondering. Just how big was your sword?"

Riven's reply was instantaneous, curious as to how the man would react. "About as long as yours is."

Nothing. Did he not believe her? Riven's light brow furrowed as the silence went on, but soon enough it was broken.

"That...wow. That says a lot. I think you're probably stronger than me."

A slight snort erupted from Riven at the statement. She'd been _much_ stronger than many men in Noxus, having proven it by the amount of gold she'd won in Noxus' various fighting arenas. A small smile at the nostalgia and a whiff of pride passed over her face. She decided a little bit of taunting was appropriate, what with their duel the next day.

"We'll see tomorrow, won't we?" Riven's mirth colored her joking, lightly threatening tone.

The Ionian erupted into what she assumed was a small fit of surprised, but genuinely amused laughter. In the midst of it he managed, "Oh, we will."

An unexpected sense of satisfaction at their interaction came over the woman, something she'd only ever felt after joking similarly with friends she'd had over the years. Riven decided to renew her efforts to sleep while the sound of his laughter echoed in her mind. No, she hadn't minded that either.

Some time later Yasuo rumbled a gentle goodnight. She decided she liked his voice, his laugh. Any thoughts that would have followed were muddied and overcome by a need for rest.

Eventually Riven closed her eyes and let the waves lull her to sleep.

* * *

Both sun and sea doused the pair as they stood on the deck, weapons in hand. The moment of consideration before battle was charged, crackling with potential and ready to _pop!_ at but a hint of movement. Yasuo's blade gleamed white like his opponent's hair in the sunlight, while her black blade reaped light and gave almost none back at all. A lock of Yasuo's hair splintered off of the mass on his head, pointed like a prong of her weapon.

All at once, Riven exploded in Yasuo's direction in an impossibly quick burst of movement. His reaction was nearly as fast, but it was exactly she was looking for. Riven turned, motioned her blade in a hard sideways slash that forced a dodge and again, her opponent played into her movements as planned. As she brought her sword round once more, slashing with unforgiving speed and a punishing measure of strength, she heard Yasuo grunt with effort when their blades clashed. He has only just managed to bring the hilt of his sword up fast enough to grind the edges of their blades together, narrowly avoiding an unfortunate parting with most of his midsection.

And then, to his surprise, Riven twisted, but not to back off and come at him again. She launched herself into the air, rotated at what he thought was a _ridiculous_ angle, and brought her sword hurtling downward with a dangerous amount of momentum. Riven fought unlike anything he'd ever encountered before!

After roughly clashing his blade with hers again, Riven backed off for the time being. Whether she was looking for another opening or simply waiting to overwhelm him, Yasuo wasn't sure. That last attack had been brutally strong, requiring both of his arms to brace his blade against her strength yet still managing to knock him back. If he let her keep coming at him, he'd likely be both beaten and limbless.

Somehow he knew that Riven was not merely a soldier. This woman was an absolutely exceptional fighter. With that speed, strength, and technique...there was no doubt she had been called a prodigy like him, Yasuo thought. The difference was he was hailed for being able to learn a technique few others could...he was willing to bet Riven's style was all her own.

Refusing to underestimate both her genius and ability, Yasuo quickly and deftly brought his blade up as he moved close to Riven. He moved his sword around in a swift circle, but she mirrored his first action, causing them to dash through each other. Yasuo tried again.

Riven dodged again.

Undeterred, Yasuo moved in once more, intent on using the length of his blade over hers to triumph this time. He slashed from some distance away, but Riven parried the light weight of his thin blade and executed her combo again, only she was even faster this time! Yasuo turned around and blocked hurriedly, her counter having slowed the positioning of his blade. Her sword barely _clinked_ off of his and she immediately followed through into her next move. She'd used his expectation of her against him! Riven once again brought her heavy, broken rune sword through her aerial rotation with blinding speed, forcing Yasuo to react before it was too late.

"Soryé!"

A gust flowed from his blade and knocked Riven back, catching her off guard. She looked at him, expression hinting at surprise and intrigue, but otherwise unreadable.

Yasuo looked back, breathing increased from the effort of keeping up. Riven certainly was strongest with her weapon, but in some way she was also vulnerable. Passion would do that to you, for just a moment bringing down all of your walls until lucidity took its place again. As they continued to regard each other, Yasuo allowed himself to think it had also the most beautiful he'd seen her yet.

They both knew she'd bested him in their quick bout, yet he couldn't wait to fight her again.

"Huh." Riven's deadpan drew Yasuo out of his reverie, cutting off his thoughts about all that had just occurred.

"Wind is sort of my thing."

Riven smirked and said, "Yes...I can see that now. That was...interesting." The glint in her eye told Yasuo there was much more to what she was saying.

"I suppose. But I do know that you are positively brutal...almost lost my head there.." Rubbing his neck for effect, he felt a tinge of pride at causing her smile, however small, once more.

They seemed to have silently agreed to take a small break before starting up again, during which Yasuo moved to the railing of the deck to lean back while he spoke to Riven. He took a moment to look up at the dazzling blue of the sky, squinting harshly from the brightness of it all. Eventually, a formation of clouds came and offered much needed relief from the sun's persistent, beating rays.

Yasuo turned to Riven and spoke.

"You weren't just a soldier, were you?"

The question seemed to jolt Riven into seriousness, her face immediately snapping to an ironically soldier-esque blank expression. Her eyes, however, just barely betrayed the resurfacing pain.

She sighed. It was heavy and hopeless this time, like an effort to free herself of what she knew she couldn't.

"No. No, I wasn't."

Yasuo kept looking at her, but Riven had averted her gaze to the horizon, preferring to look at the deep blue ocean and its distant waves licking at the sky as if reaching for something more. Her lips pursed before she continued, "I was...many things. They considered me the paragon of strength. Not everyone gets a sword like mine."

"I figured."

Riven went on. "When I...left the military I was a Commander, leader of the Fury Company, and member of the Crimson Elite." Her voice was so low and raw that the dull roar of the waves nearly eclipsed her confession. Yasuo blinked. He was shocked to learn that she was such a high ranking member of the Noxian military but not altogether surprised. The Ionian did not know what exactly those groups she mentioned were, but assumed it was some sort of high military honor. Her swordsmanship, with a broken weapon no less, was beyond superb and demanding of such a rank. He shuddered to think of what a terror she would had been with her entire weapon! A paragon indeed.

She seemed even more uneasy at his extended silence. Riven began to speak again, but faltered. Her head was bowed as she spoke, "Yasuo, I cannot even begin to express how sorry I am for what Noxus–and what I have done to Ionia." His chest tightened with a mixture of emotions, unsure of what he was feeling entirely. The war had brought a great deal of agony to many on both sides. Yasuo closed his eyes.

He knew Riven was different now. Once again, resolve came through and he remembered his promise–that her past was her _past_. He was not involved and had no right to judge. Realizing she needed to hear a response to her apology, the Ionian looked back at Riven's conflicted face.

"As far as I'm concerned, Riven...you have a new start. You abandoned all of that." He let out a short whiff of a dry laugh. "Isn't that what we're doing here anyway?" At his words Riven's shoulders slackened and she let out a wavering sigh. Yasuo nodded in sombre recognition when her gleaming crimson eyes met his and she uttered the most genuine thanks he'd heard in his life.

* * *

The subsequent days went similarly, but with much less serious conversation and more sparring. Perhaps more understanding as well, as they grew increasingly familiar with each other as well as their blades. On the night before their arrival in Bilgewater Harbor, Yasuo lay on his cot, his feet hanging over the side. Memories and moments of the past few days with Riven populated his thoughts. Slowly but surely, respectful admiration for the person she was bloomed inside of him; it was so apparent why she'd been celebrated so.

Yes. There was no doubt in his mind that Riven was stronger that him in so many ways.

* * *

I pretty much incorporated the fact that a Riven in-game roflstomps Yasuo. In my opinion he simply would not have the battling power she does, either.

Thanks for reading, leave what you thought in a review! Was my first shot at a fight scene, so feedback is great!


	4. Chapter 4

Bilgewater was what one had expected and the other had remembered. The city held a stark parallel between the inhabitants who profited the most from the activities the city was known for, and those who were used to accomplish those goals. From the unknown kingpins to dirty politicians, Bilgewater's de facto citizens were hardly exemplary in any sense of the word.

Yasuo stepped off of the boat and could only wonder what horrors were swarming the depths just below his feet. the water seemed unnaturally dark; instead of the cerulean that marked the waters of Ionia, Bilgewater hosted dark, blue grey depths shrouded in mystery. Riven seemed unfazed by the shady aura that cloaked the harbor that they had docked in, or at least didn't show it. When the the gentle breeze of Riven passing him by met his frame, Yasuo turned and followed. At least one of them seemed to be familiar with the blasted city.

Riven led them to a remarkably less suspicious area, one that undoubtedly housed the less desperate occupants of Bilgewater. Finally, she stopped in front of an inn. It seemed safe enough, and trusting that she knew what she was doing, Yasuo continued through the door into the establishment. His brow quirked upwards at the owner's reaction to her appearance and their subsequent conversation, but he said nothing and entered their assigned rooms. The manager handed Riven her rune-key and she slipped inside her room. After moving a few more feet down the corridor, Yasuo was given entry to his own.

His quarters were standard enough for a run-of-the-mill inn. Thankfully this time he had light, granted by the pair of hextech lamps on either side of his bed. The room was small but neat; he was grateful to have a bed for the time being. But, to a man stuck on a ship for days, the attached bathroom was the most welcome sight of all.

Once it was ready, Yasuo immediately stripped down and entered the bath he'd drawn. It was quiet, something he had grown to relish as he'd grown older. Many nights spent out in the cool of Ionian woods at night staring up at the moon finally allowed wise Ionian sayings to sink in. Yasuo was no stranger to simply sitting and simmering in his thoughts. As he soaked and relaxed, thoughts of their travels and the night ahead flowed into his mind. In particular, thoughts of any sort of Bilgewater cuisine he could get his hands on. When he was finished, the swordsman was intent on convincing Riven to get some food with him. She seemed to know her way around the city. He was grateful to have her as a companion; somehow securing free lodging, and having unexpected familiarity with the area. As an Ionian native, he'd barely left his province before the incident. _I wonder what she was here for..._

But could he even just ask? Last time, his probing question of her military past had clearly been difficult for her to answer. Even in knowing this, Yasuo couldn't shake the feeling of curiousity directed towards Riven. It was simple. He just wanted to get to know her. _Who can carry a sword like that with one hand anyway?_ Yasuo had lowered the bottom half of his face into the water, causing his bubbly chuckle to effervesce to the surface of the warm, but cooling water. The woman was so interesting to him. He was okay with that–in his mind they were friends.

Deciding he was clean and that the water was no longer sufficiently warm, Yasuo exited the bath to finish preparing for a night in Bilgewater with Riven.

* * *

Riven found her stomach loudly making her hunger known to her while she polished her sword. Upon realizing just how starved she was for food and assuming that Yasuo would likely be even more hungry than she, Riven put her blade away. The worn, broken-in leather of the strap that held her blade sunk into the muscle of her shoulder through her equally worn top. Though nearly everyone else would find the constant weight burdensome, in some ways it was comforting to the ex-commander. Bilgewater was dangerous, no matter what part you were in. Riven closed her eyes and took a deep breath, intent on not recalling the events that had taken place here years ago. Yet, the persistent assurance that people here are just as selfish and deceptive as many of those in Noxus stuck in her mind.

She stepped toward the door to open it and head to Yasuo's room, and sure enough as her thoughts focused on him again, Riven was glad she had someone to trust while they stayed here. Riven's strong digits stretched to wrap around the doorknob, but before she could make contact, three quick knocks against the wood startled her slightly. Quickly, she opened the door and half-stepped through before stopping abruptly. There was an Ionian in her way, who'd mirrored her motion as soon as she'd opened the door.

The ensuing collision was jarring, but Riven immediately had her mind on something she hadn't expected.

"Er, sorry," Yasuo began as he kneaded the side of his jaw Riven's head had made contact with, then looked up into Riven's eyes.

His hair was down.

And Riven was staring.

After a few seconds, she blinked and seemed to have snapped herself out of it. Her eyes finally met his, dark rings of maroon that were almost brown in the dimly lit hall, he noticed. What maelstrom was going on behind those eyes? Riven finally spoke.

"Sorry."

His mouth twitched and slowly grew into a grin at how delayed her apology was, and she joined him in the small moment of mirth.

"I'm hungry–" They both declared–blurted, really–at the same time, prompting Yasuo to erupt into a small fit of laughter and widening Riven's smirk.

"Then let's go." She started down the hall and pushed open the door, baring the evening to them both. A sea breeze blew against them gently as they stepped outside and started moving.

As soon as Yasuo thought about questioning their destination, and then thought better of it, Riven apparently read his mind and answered handily. "I know a place that serves really good tea and food, if that's okay with you."

"Perfect."

As they progressed, Yasuo took in the scenery of Bilgewater, if one could call it that. There were countless lights that littered the tight, winding road near the inn, indicating shops and services for the public. Buildings were becoming more packed in this area, and the cracked pavement paired with dark alleys planted a seed of wariness in him. He knew she would not lead them into danger and that this area seemed mostly safe, but his unfamiliarity with it all caused him to tread closer to Riven. Their shoulders brushed briefly and Riven glanced at him quickly, but said nothing. They walked on.

Ahead, the road opened up and there were larger shops and buildings, as well as many more people. It appeared to be a main road for commerce. Riven took a right without missing a beat. Then, she slowed and turned into what looked like..._The Viridian Drake_. She went through the shop to a seating area outdoors, and Yasuo's trailing ended when she took a seat at a secluded dark wooden table.

He looked around, impressed with the decor. Fitting its name, the restaurant had employed varying shades of green paired with dark wood and a dragon theme. They both took in the comfortably cool night and glowing red-orange tones the torches in each corner provided. In a way he was not expecting, Yasuo found he felt content sitting here with Riven. He turned his head to look at her, and a small conversation began.

"I'd like to visit one of the tailors here after we eat, if you don't mind."

"Ah, yes, me too. Clothes a tad worn. Just a tad." THe corner of Riven's mouth tugged upward only slightly, as the man's humor had unknowingly brought attention to the fact that he was only wearing a...shawl-thing. Not even close to a real shirt. Forcing her eyes to stay on the little dragon mid-roar on their table, she stayed silent. Being here was surprisingly hard, and she was certain Yasuo would ask about her experience with the place at some point. She didn't mind that he was curious, but was slightly stressed with all the memories that were plaguing her. It was impossible to not think of Noxus in Bilgewater.

Their server came and the ravenous pair ordered the only amount of food that could be expected; heaps upon heaps. Only the server had been in mild shock, as they both knew exactly how hungry they were.

Yasuo tore his eyes away from the roast duck another customer was eating to look at Riven once again. She was being characteristically quiet, but her brow was tight and drawn as she stared at an ornament on the table. Those eyes...he knew she was reliving something. He decided to ask. She could always decline to talk about it, he reasoned.

"Riven." He called her name, drawing her out of her own head. She tensed and drew a quick breath as her head snapped up so her eyes could meet his.

Eventually, Yasuo continued. "How..well...You've been here before."

One of her light eyebrows elevated a slightest bit before she nodded in response.

"I mean–" Yasuo cleared his throat, "What were you here for?"

Riven's jaw clenched and she looked away. A long moment passed and Yasuo wondered if she would deign to answer him at all. Perhaps he was wrong to ask?

Finally, she spoke, eyes narrowed. She was even more tense now. Her fist closed and she began to cletch it tightly.

"A very...particular mission, with very important people."

With a breath he asked who; her voice lowered and she went on. Yasuo's eyes widened in surprise at the last name Riven uttered. He did not know the others. Her expression darkened to match the night surrounding them. What had happened here?

"Katarina Du Couteau, Emilia LeBlanc, and Jericho Swain."

* * *

Review if you please! Next chapter will be almost all about Riven.


	5. Chapter 5

There was almost nothing about Bilgewater itself that was painful for Riven. Rather, her stress was similar to the way that remembrance of a decision leading to a life-altering accident hurt. Thinking back on all that had happened in Ionia, she could see so clearly now that Bilgewater is where the cogs were set in motion.

Yasuo did not fail to notice the way she ghosted her fingers over the bandages on her forearms, mind steeped in thought. The server had come again to bring them tea, which as an Ionian he couldn't resist. Even though she'd mentioned it was great tea–and it was–Riven barely seemed to notice it was there. She truly had a lot on her mind coming here, so Yasuo deigned to spare her any extra questions and patiently sat back, content with sipping his tea. In any other situation he would have been trying to get his hands on the brew or raving about its taste with his companion, but now was not the time for that.

The line of Riven's jaw caught torchlight as she finally looked at him again. He gave a small internal celebration at the fact that she was ready now; he would get to learn about Riven and Noxus tonight. Yasuo put his teacup down and leaned closer to the table as she began speaking. Her voice in the relative quiet their location provided was like the light streams of grey smoke that lifted to the sky around them. A bit of wonder at how she managed to speak so softly yet clearly flitted through his mind, but he quickly turned all of his attention to her words.

"As I said before, I was a member of the Crimson Elite. Specifically, I was the leader of the highest echelon of the Elite, which only held three members. Kat was one of them, and one day LeBlanc gave me..orders to come to a mission briefing at High Command."

"In truth I think I realize that LeBlanc is at the center of much of what happened...because of the Black Rose."

LeBlanc's presence had never sat well with Riven. In fact, she imagined that it didn't with anyone but those who seemed to be close to her, namely General Swain. She had never done much openly that could be legitimately questioned, but the woman seemed to have unlimited access and influence in High Command when she had no evidential right to. It was known that she was an exceedingly powerful mage, however, which was the assumed reason she held so much weight in Noxus for seemingly never having done a thing.

Riven shifted uncomfortably as a flash of memory surfaced.

_Riven had been in her uniform, having a normal day. Crimson Elite missions and duties aside, she was currently serving as a first lieutenant and had just finished going though directing drills with her soldiers. As she walked down the road to her office, she raised an eyebrow in confusion at the odd situation before her._

_Emilia LeBlanc was walking straight towards her. If Darius was General Swain's right hand man, this woman was on his left. Why would she even bother with the risk of muddying her robes by walking down here? Even more unnerving was that not one other soul was reacting to her presence. LeBlanc was getting closer now, and Riven could see the smirk and look that she wore._

_She absolutely refused to note the outfit altogether, even to herself._

_And then Riven ran out of time to think about what was happening because LeBlanc was right in front of her._

_She'd never spoken to the woman in er life. Did she salute? Riven knew she held no official position in High Command.. At the risk of looking like an idiot, she decided it would be better to respect a non-officer than disrespect someone ranked higher than herself. The mage hardly noticed the motion. She continued to give Riven that smouldering look–wait, smouldering?!_

_Countless alarms went off in Riven's head as LeBlanc stepped forward._

_Those alarms turned into blasting Demacian warhorns, sending Riven into immobile, stiff shock as LeBlanc insistently pressed her lips to Riven's without a word. Somehow she knew the woman was still smirking. Riven inhaled sharply but before she could even think of how to react, in an unnaturally quick moment, LeBlanc was standing in front of her again._

_A respectful distance away._

_Not kissing her._

_The woman was the picture of calculated ease, robes flowing gently around her form with a confident hand on her hip, managing to expose even more of herself with that gods forsaken outfit. Riven blinked and suppressed a disturbed shudder. LeBlanc held an envelope in the other hand–how had she not noticed that before? Again, no one near the pair reacted. Uneasiness and anger followed the realization that LeBlanc must have been toying with her using her spells._

_Before Riven could retaliate with words or weapons, LeBlanc smirk-smiled and disappeared. The letter was in Riven's hand now; she could feel it when she clenched her fists in frustration when the mage had vanished again._

_After some time she opened it; Riven found she was due in General Swain's office tomorrow._

Yasuo spoke up for the first time in a while, only because of his confusion. As an Ionian, he knew next to nothing about the inner workings of Noxus. The man ran one hand over the stubble on his chin then leaned back as he inquired, "What is that? Code for something?"

It was no simple task to explain what the Black Rose was to someone who had not lived in Noxus or ever seen the interactions of High Command. No one truly knew what it was in the first place, including Riven...but she tried to convey her understanding of it. The Black Rose was, to the best of her knowledge, a ring of mages–identities and quantities unknown–that had a very specific agenda. At the very least, one of the reasons for her trip to Bilgewater was to, in the words of LeBlanc, _'finally take back what is ours'._

Riven continued her explanation. "Kat and I were essentially part bodyguards, part strong-men to their dirty work." She paused when she noticed how intently he was listening, when he raised his arms to fold them onto the table and shifted close again in intrigue. Yasuo's dark features found subtle contrast against his complexion and with the matching dark sky above, she found this time she couldn't help but focus on him as she spoke.

"I..." She sighed. Yasuo was not a soldier, but she knew he would understand what was about to come from her mouth. Despite the mutual understanding the feeling was not pleasant for the both of them to recall.

"Killing an enemy is not even close to what its like to kill someone innocent on a whim."

"We did a lot of that here."

_She was not a stranger to the warmth of another's blood splatter across her own form._

_This was different. She didn't know why but it felt different, killing this man._

_Gods, there was so much blood._

_Their small company was in the study of a mage holed up in the secluded outskirts of Bilgewater, securing whatever they had come to this specific man's home for. The mage he reached for his staff to retaliate and was summarily silenced with a quick word by LeBlanc. Swain growled, "Kill him!"_

_And it was done. Riven and Katarina leaped into action, drawing their respective concealed blades. Katarina slipped behind him in a small puff of smoke and easily slammed him onto the desk, much too quick for the eye to track. No, the mage's frightened eyes dashed from LeBlanc and followed Riven in terror. She jerked his head to the side then drove her steel deep into the man's neck, summarily severing the jugular and half-lodging the knife both between his vertebrae and the mahogany wood beneath his head._

_It was quiet for a moment in the room, save for the tear of his flesh and the strangled cry that was quickly cut off by her weapon._

_The shock and horror of recognizing exactly who had unceremoniously burst into his study still marked his face as he struggled, spasmed and splurted for but a few seconds until death. She heard LeBlanc breathe a snort in behind her and noted the delighted twinkle in Katarina's eye. Riven kept her face impassive as always._

_She took a breath and yanked the blade back out. His wounds just kept gushing._

_Riven caught a glimpse of a sculpted hand clutching a brightly shining cyan stone in the box LeBlanc stored the repossessed items in. More importantly it seemed, the deceiver had slipped yet another crimson fragment, almost like a rose petal, into her cloak._

_She turned and followed her out the door, not even bothering to do anything with the body._

Her monologue was interrupted by the arrival of their food. For a time, neither of them said a word as they wolfed their respective meals down. The eating eventually slowed for Riven to begin speaking again. Yasuo poured himself another cup of tea while she went on.

"I had wondered why Swain came along at all at the time. He didn't seem to necessarily be a part of the Black Rose, which I still am not one hundred percent sure about...either way, he was here for reasons of his own in addition to LeBlanc's. Ultimately, I think they brought Kat and I along to test us for the future. After that we started going on many more Crimson Elite missions that were incredibly specific and covert, like what we did here. And now I know that we aided Swain in his sudden rise to power."

Yasuo witnessed something he had not seen on her face until now–disgust. Even he knew that Swain was responsible for the war waged against Ionia. The emotion was wholly appropriate.

"Katarina's father disappeared and we slaughtered people all across Valoran, presumably to pull strings and shift balances of power.." She sounded tired. Not physically, but of the weight of the whole thing. He could feel his expression mold to mirror the remorse he felt at her pain.

"This was where Swain got the dirty information he needed to begin to uproot Darkwill's power in Noxus. I know for a fact that it's where he later inquired about the weapons that Zaun provided for Noxus."

Riven had practically spat the last few words of that sentence. She hated that her forearms had started to flare in pain as she recalled what had happened, inevitably leading up to uncontrollable flashbacks of *the* event. She held her face in her hands and took several deep, slow breaths to calm down; her arms were shaking and painfully taut. Several seconds passed before she lowered her hands and revealed her troubled face to the man across from her. She was staring off with tortured eyes into nothingness, and this time it was like he could look into their crimson hue and see the blood she'd seen spilt.

"Riven.." Yasuo called to her gently, trying to draw her attention back to reality. She didn't respond.

"Riven." He reached out and touched the elbow she had resting on the table as lightly as he could. He had been half-expecting her to jerk her hand away in alarm, but she only looked up at him and gave a shuddering sigh as she emerged from whatever horror had been plaguing her mind.

The empathy he felt leading up to that moment had already taken him off guard. But the way it had melded into the strong concern that pushed him to touch her surprised them both. No one but his brother had ever been the root of that depth of genuine feeling before.

Yasuo peeled his hand back after a few beats passed and he dumbly realized it was still there. Still recovering from the emotional shock, he felt a bit of heat rise to his face when it dawned on him that Riven was probably still waiting for him to say something.

"I...don't know what to say."

He didn't, really.

"I just know..I'm sorry that all of that happened." She nodded her thanks as they stood up to leave. She still seemed on edge, so Yasuo quickly shelled out the amount owed and handed it to the server as he passed ahead of Riven.

He heard her softly repeat her thanks as she came to walk beside him. The rest of the evening passed in mostly quiet content with the meal and their company, though the underlying note of unease that seemed to almost always mark the two exiles remained.

The pair managed to purchase some new clothing and headed back to the inn. Despite the stress of the conversation... _Again_, he noted, Yasuo was glad to have had the time to listen to her. They reached the hall that held their rooms and Yasuo glanced over at Riven as she stopped to hold her rune-key to the lock. He offered a half-smile and said, "Lets make it to the League soon. Things will be better there, I think." It was late now, and though he made an effort to be quiet, his deep voice still clamored noticeably throughout the corridor.

She stilled and seemed to contemplate his last phrase. Yasuo felt relief at her next words. It was exactly what they both needed.

"I hope so."

* * *

This was a little hard/risky, but I hope you guys liked it. Thanks for reading, leave your thoughts below!


	6. Chapter 6

It was early when they alighted on the mainland. Yasuo and Riven took to walking, ever nearing the Institute of War, their new start. As the diplomatic hub of the entire continent of Valoran, the Institute itself seemed to spur a large number of villages and small cities to spawn. They concentrated around the Institute and splayed outwards, providing the champions, summoners, and travelers with accommodations and commerce. The days came and went, and as the pair closed in on the Institute they stopped at a few smaller towns to rest at night. As the population increased, the likelihood of encountering bad company at night rose with it. Better safe and warm in an inn than cold and dead in a ditch, Yasuo had said, dryly claiming it was an old Ionian proverb. Riven rolled her eyes but could not hold back her own chuckle.

And they kept walking.

At present it was almost night, and a map indicated that they were nearing a safe place to stay for the night. It was a relief to be able to travel at a decent speed, knowing that the other could keep up given their backgrounds. As they strode down the worn path slowly emerging from the ground, Yasuo felt it again. He was _alright_ around her. The smile that sprouted upon his face from his joke lingered and persisted at his contentment with the moment. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

Back in Bilgewater, he's neglected to notice everything Riven had picked up in the store they'd visited. He wasn't too privy to fashion himself, especially the clothing habits of other city-states, but he was sure that Riven looked nice. She'd removed the remnants of Noxian-issued armor and now wore a less distinguishable outfit. A fitted dark green hooded tunic enclosed Riven's frame now. Silver locks flared out from underneath the hood that shaded and darkened her crimson eyes, both features still catching and gleaming softly with incoming light as always. Yasuo caught himself admiring her, but was certain she could not see him–definitely not with this angle and that hood.

* * *

Riven was entirely aware of Yasuo's long sideways glance. It was almost like he didn't notice he was smiling gently, the act so reflexive and subconscious that the one to whom it belonged was unaware. Ignoring the odd feeling that wormed its way into her stomach as he looked at her, Riven turned her head to meet his eyes. Riven smirked slightly at his reaction to her sudden direct eye contact.

Yasuo blinked.

The way his face tinged red would have been amusing all on its own, but what followed was several times more so. Taken off guard by her silent teasing, Yasuo's foot caught something invisible on the ground and he tripped. He resigned himself to a fairly humiliating downfall and recovery when having a traveling companion paid off once more. Riven instantly slid forward and braced her back foot against the impact of his greater weight. Quickly, she pushed up on his shoulder and the arm she'd slid around his opposite side retreated as he righted himself after her help.

The man still seems shocked that he hadn't been met with harsh ground and a faceful of dirt, but eventually shrugged off his surprise at Riven's reflexes and strength. _Of course_, he mused to himself sighed. The puff of air was full of relief and tinged with embarrassment.

"Some warrior...er, thanks, Riven."

She nodded the "Riven nod", he'd dubbed it, as her mirth bubbled beneath the surface; she restrained herself from giggling aloud for his own sake. The nod, to him, always said _you're welcome_ and _of course_, as if it really was nothing to her. A duty, almost. She might have been laughing but apparently...Riven cared in some way.

Yasuo decided the situation was a small price to pay for such a realization as they met their destination for the night.

* * *

The village was small and so was the inn. Not that one could call it that; the space was actually only a section of a home that the owner rented out to the occasion traveler if the opportunity arose. This left the pair with but one room.

A lone, small cot occupied the space, but thankfully they managed to explain that a spare mat would be necessary because no, they did not want to _"__cozy up on the spacious bed"_–it was hardly big enough for Riven. And _yes_, they were sure. The owner produced a roll for Yasuo and demanded a few extra coins for his trouble.

It was not too late yet, so after getting comfortable and setting up the extra roll, Yasuo found himself simply laying down, scoping the room absentmindedly. Riven had taken to half-sitting on the windowsill and looking out at the village and surrounding area. The sky was dark cerulean, streaked with clouds glowing with the last traces of sunlight. They were moving slowly with the wind; the persistent breeze had been gently ebbing and flowing throughout the evening and was picking up. Now, the color of the sky and motion of the air made it seem like the tumbling sea. A hint of impending tumult was looming in the atmosphere as a storm in the near future seemed likely.

The reign of silence seemed unbreakable for a time, but not in an uncomfortable way. At some point after the sky turned almost black, Riven finally turned her head from the window and looked at Yasuo. He'd been there, thinking and looking, just like her. A few seconds of eye contact followed, then she abruptly broke it and moved to the cot. His grey eyes and light skin only accentuated the line across his face that _somehow_ made him look incredibly handsome in that moment. The loose black tunic Yasuo favored from their stay in Bilgewater only served to deepen all the contrast that had her captivated in the first place.

Long, flowing locks; short stubble peppered along a strong jaw.

Fair skin; slate eyes coupled with an umber mane.

He was so calm and relaxed and had taken to leaving his hair down when they were indoors at night. She supposed Yasuo was comfortable with her now. The only thing that made her uncomfortable, if only a bit, was how she noticed such things about him. Riven supposed that was what came with spending night and day with someone, which she was no stranger to. Military duties routinely demanded situations like this; it was not uncommon to quickly make a friend this way. She looked over at him again. He'd shuffled a bit and closed his eyes, but he was not asleep yet. After a short moment Yasuo let out a long breath and opened his eyes, meeting Riven's once again.

"Will you know anyone there? At the Institute?" His voice was low. It was the first thing to break the silence in what seemed like forever. The blanket over noise, demanding everything be quiet, that silence maintained even after it ended took effect as they spoke.

After a bit of though, Riven replied, "Well, I know that Katarina was enlisted as a champion, as well as LeBlanc." She paused.

"I can't imagine who else they would put in though. Everyone else seems either far too important, like Swain, or not important enough."

Yasuo let out a small grunt of understanding. Just like the rest of Ionia he knew that Wuju Master Yi was a champion, as well as Elder Karma. Anyone else was a mystery to him, as he was not sure who else would have come to the League to represent Ionia during the wartime. Ionia was known for artful technique, not brutality or overwhelming strength. He had heard of a particularly talented Ionian summoner that had made it into the League some time before the war, though.

Now that a conversation had picked up, his mind periodically produced something to discuss with the woman. As they had on a few nights prior, they chatted about light aspects of their past respective cultures. Yasuo shared stories of his friends, brother, and times on their favorite lake. Riven raved about all the culinary wonders of Noxus, and how no one in Valoran could dream of rivaling _The Black Cleaver_'s menu of meats braised, seared, and baked to perfection. She attested that their brews were delectable as well. It seemed entirely fitting that with the amount of killing Noxus was known for, meat would be one of their specialties.

As the night wore on, the dim glow of Riven's rune sword caught his eye. He'd wondered before but decided that he could put his curiosity to rest now. "Can I see your sword?" Riven blinked, but said nothing as she handed the remainder of the monstrosity to Yasuo. He let it rest on his thighs, not bothering to attempt to handle the weight of the blade with his arms if it wasn't necessary. Looking down at the flat of the weapon, Yasuo traced a finger along the green runes embedded in its impossibly black surface. "What does it do? You didn't seem to be using any magic when we fought.."

He almost let himself wonder if her strength had anything to do with the runes but quickly banished the thought from his head. One look at her build and it was obvious that Riven's body was one earned, a product of her mental fortitude and years of training. In a way it was insulting to even think it was truly arcane, and not only in the way that she made him wonder at all she'd achieved.

She tensed a little less at the topic he'd breached than he'd noticed in the past. The sword was no less close to her heart but Riven felt like the man across from her had inched closer to her comfort zone as well. The Ionian was only inquiring as a friend would, she knew, and so the bristle she'd felt the first time he'd asked about her sword was absent.

"I have no magic of my own," Riven started. That much was obvious. If she'd been a mage then surely there would be a staff in lieu of a sword, and some spell would have been cast in all this time.

"But my blade was forged with ties to my energy...I think that is why it still l–glows." Riven felt a phantom of the delicious tug the full weight of her sword once had against her shoulder. The echo of it in her soul flickered and with it, hope strengthened her spirit and fueled her ultimate dream of purifying Noxus.

Nothing further was said that night; their final exchange being Riven's recollection of her weapon. Tomorrow they would meet the end of Mogron Pass and be only a few days away from the Institute of War. Though she'd laid back with the intention of sleeping, Riven's mind churned like the blackened sky with thoughts of their arrival at the League. Yasuo was sleeping now. Not content to lie awake restlessly, she peeled her shirt off, left in the bandages that concealed her midsection and much of her arms.

Riven unfurled the light wrappings from her arms, only seeking something methodical to do in order to clear her mind. When they were off, she considered the markings Coeur Valley left on her person for some time. Corded muscle rippled faintly as she ran a hand over the opposite arm, feeling how some of the scarring was smooth and worse areas were slightly raised. The new skin her burns and wounds had left in their wake was so much more sensitive to touch, but it felt good to have them free. Riven's eyes fluttered shut for a moment while she took a deep breath. At last her mind was sufficiently quelled, so she relaxed into the cot and gave into sleep.

* * *

Its a bit slow, but the next chapter will most definitely be their arrival at the League. Thanks for sticking around, hope you readers are enjoying the story! Review if you like, any feedback is appreciated.

As a side note, I wanted to bring some other awesome works that I've read on here to attention. Probably the best Yasuo/Riven story on here is called Follow the Wind and is being written by Tahimikamaxtli. Its pretty popular, and if you haven't checked it out...do it.

If you're a fan of Riven/Katarina, take a look at When We Are Weak by CrimsonNoble. Its new. Its awesome. Another fic of that pairing is named Burials, by Cinis.

Finally, an excellent Caitlyn/Vi story in the same vein called Nowhere by Substance took my breath away.

All of those are amazing pieces of work, and I highly recommend you read them if you bothered with my story!


	7. Chapter 7

The West Garden of the Institute was as lush as Riven had expected after spending a day in the extravagant place. She sat silently surrounded by the pale luminescent beauty of countless blossoms bathed in moonlight. A fellow champion, Diana, lurked in a far corner of the area and paid Riven no mind.

A _fellow champion_.

Yes, the two of them still had to complete their evaluations with head summoners, be briefed and otherwise prepared for League matches...But they'd still made it. Despite their success of joining the League, despite their newfound immunity, Riven could not feel anything but the burden that everything else that had taken place that day piled on her. It had not been all bad, but the future began to weigh heavily on the exile. The gardens had drawn her in, a result of her desire to be alone. The only reason she was sitting out here instead of in her room was the deep apprehension she felt at the prospect of walking the dormitory halls. She let out a small exhale and quicksilver petals quaked with the breeze that mimicked her breath.

Riven rested her elbow on a knee and covered her forehead with a hand, letting her arm support its weight.

Emotions were never supposed to get in the way.

Even if she was 'Independent' as a champion, she _had_ been a Noxian. Riven was still true to what she believed a pure Noxus would be...and could not stand for what it was now. The day ran through her head again and Riven was torn between cursing her idealism and wondering how she could have known what it would have been like. She was left even more unsure of how to proceed. It would be incredibly difficult to maneuver socially and politically here at all, Riven realized. That wasn't even considering all that she knew needed to heal, both physically and mentally.

When the League was founded, there had been a select few champions from each city-state sent to represent their collective interests. However, as time wore on and conflicts came and went, grew and ebbed away, _influence_ became imperative. Noxus now had several champions, as did every one else.

They thought she was dead; that should speak for itself. But Noxus prefers a dead soldier to a deserter–no exceptions. It would have been better for her to walk back into their _poison_, off herself–or better yet, be executed, than live! There were perhaps a few of her past comrades that felt differently but the strength that was against her was what mattered–Noxian High Command.

In her mind she was a survivor; to them she was traitor.

* * *

Following their meeting with the High Summoner, an assistant summoner guided Riven and Yasuo through the Institute to their rooms in the Independent Wing. On the way, the summoner giving the small tour suggested–not without a painfully weak joke–that they stop through the dining hall for familiarity's sake.

If she hadn't been horrified, Riven might have found the way many champions naturally grouped by faction amusing and reminiscent of her days in basic training camp.

It was with a detached sense of trepidation Riven realised exactly how bad this was. The piercing shock of her extreme distress and outrage hit full force, twisting together in her gut. If she could move, it would be to vomit.

Swain, and at the other end of the table, LeBlanc. Darius had turned from ignoring Draven across from himself, and next to him sat the DuCouteau siblings. Talon was standing behind Katarina, and prior to freezing in place had been moving toward his own seat. All but LeBlanc looked as if they'd seen a ghost. Talon's jaw dropped. Cassiopeia turned after a beat to whisper something to Katarina, but the assassin didn't respond. How could she?

It was an exceedingly rare display of open emotion from the Noxians of the Institute, stealing the attention from the rest of the room's occupants and confusing them all at the same time.

After an indeterminate amount of time Riven drew a breath and tried to ignore her heart pounding in her ears. It was barely a confrontation and she was nearly shaking. Half of these people were her enemies; the other half were in the very exclusive group Riven liked to call _Not-Dead-Friends._

The summoner hadn't taken pause during the moment that passed–so Riven attempted to shake it off as she walked to catch up with the man and Yasuo, who had been looking back for her.

It couldn't be shaken off.

Riven could feel Swain's eyes narrow as they exited the hall.

* * *

Yasuo thanked the summoner who had shown him to his room and stepped inside. It was a little ridiculous what they could pull off with just over an hour and presumably some magic upon learning his origins. As he looked around he discovered the room was less of a 'room' and more of a suite. It was nice, and reminded him faintly of the standard dormitory at the Academy. There were faint, pale floral designs in keeping with Ionian tradition, as well as the typical floor mats and sliding doors. Dark accents offset the light theme of the room.

As he paced through the suite a few times, slowly taking it all in, he noted the gentle scent of Ionia's Basu lotus. _A nice touch_, he noted with a small smile.

It did not last long, however, as his thoughts quickly shifted from his new accommodations to what was missing from them.

Riven.

He had noticed how extremely uncomfortable her encounter with what he assumed the Noxians in the dining hall had been. The last he had seen of her had been near the training area, where he'd been shuffled along by the summoner who had been guiding them after she insisted on staying. His room was nearby, so he'd simply split off with another helper that their original guide asked to help Yasuo.

Lacking anything to do after he arranged his meager belongings in his bedroom, Yasuo moved to step out and find either Riven or something to occupy himself, all the while wondering how she was doing.

* * *

Yasuo had just broken left down _another_ hall into the wing that he'd be staying in. His room had been ready first, so Riven opted to spend some time in the sparring rooms until hers was as well. She found herself ignoring the excited babbling of the summoner beside her; half due to her complete lack of interest in his 'tour', and half due to her state of mental shock.

"Since we are, well, the Institute of War, we have made it a priority to provide any and all legal and appropriate training services to our champions. Are you a mage, or...?"

Riven's mind was elsewhere, but trained back onto the summoner when he addressed her with a question.

As she met his questioning glance with an entirely straight face, the man blinked and his eyes fell on the remnants of her enormous sword. It was painfully obvious.

"Uh...right. A warrior then." He cleared his throat and fell silent as they continued past several more doors to finally come upon the physical training area. The man announced it weakly then shuffled away.

Riven grasped the handle and pushed. After finding it required what seemed like double the force to open, she stepped in.

Gods, this could not be real. Riven felt her jaw clinch with tension as she spotted one of the only occupants of the room. He was tall as always, and was clad in a sleeveless black tunic and pants. He was likely here for the weights if he wasn't wearing that armor that seemed to double his size. The outfit mirrored his onyx locks, save for the white streak across the side of his hair.

The hulking man turned and met her crimson eyes with his of dark brown.

If Swain had told him to, she could be dead right now. Riven found, however irrational, that she had little faith in the Institute's ability to keep Noxus from its blood. Darius had gotten the upper hand in most of their duels. _Of course its_ him_ I meet here_, Riven thought as neither of them moved.

After a brief pause, Darius simply said her name. It was gravelly like she remembered, and lacked any animosity she had half-expected. Riven stepped closer.

"Darius."

Unlike the DuCouteau sisters, Darius, Riven, and Talon had some things in common. They were orphans. They had come from almost nothing. Using their strength, as was the core of the Noxian way, each had made their way to the highest ranks of the military. In the past, Talon had preferred–if one could call it that–to spend his time with Cassiopeia and Katarina, while Darius avoided Draven's antics for the most part. This left Darius and Riven to drink together as soldiers did, and as two of the most highly regarded fighters in the nation, spar repeatedly.

If they weren't Noxian, they would have been friends.

"I...we, thought you had died..." Darius trailed off. Riven swallowed, dipped her head, and opened her mouth to respond, but could not. What did you say to that?

"Well.." She looked back up at him and didn't say anything more.

"I don't know what happened, they wouldn't say." He wore an expression that betrayed what looked like remorse. She could understand–they'd both seen death without number, but when you knew someone it was harder in ways not many Noxians could recognize or admit.

"No, I can't imagine they would." Riven didn't anticipate what he did next, especially considering her status. The man, Noxian through and through–he couldn't hide it even if he tried, not with that complexion, and certainly not with his hair–grasped her shoulder. She inhaled shakily and smiled lightly at the gesture. Every Noxian, exiled or no, knew what that meant. _Comrade_.

As was expected of her, Riven drew her arm up and grasped his in kind.

"You were strong." Darius said it like it was a fact to him. He let go after a few seconds and folded his arms across his chest. "Drinks or spar?"

Riven found herself amused despite herself. He'd obviously just been working out, and was still seeking out a brawl. She replied after a bit of thought. "Drinks." Darius grunted in agreement and they set off.

* * *

Riven had little doubt that at it would be just like before with him, sitting and drinking with sparse conversation. She figured Draven made up for the words that Darius didn't say; the younger brother surely yapped enough for the two of them.

Darius poked a hilarious jab at one of the summoners walking past them as they strolled to the Institute's favorite drinking establishment. Graggy Ice was famed all over Valoran and Riven was quite eager to try it. This was the only place she could happen upon it unless she took a trip to the Freljord. In the midst of a familiar situation with something to look forward to, Riven was grateful for the distraction. Unfortunately, just as a another portion of her unease was slipping away, it morphed into a furious terror.

She'd had her head turned toward Darius, replying to something he'd said about the drinking habits of yordles here. Suddenly, her frame rammed into Singed.

The stench of his chemicals and concoctions reached her nose before she even fully registered what was happening. Then she was back there–sprinting and tripping over mangled bodies–entangled in the fury of war. She was frozen as she reacted blindly and with swiftness that reminded onlookers of her prowess. Riven had the startlingly sharp edge of her broken blade threatening Singed's neck in the blink of an eye. Only instead of the hardened resolve of a warrior, she was trembling and quickly drawing in strangled breaths. The exile was only half-present in her current predicament–reacting on instinct to the threat in the flickering hallucinations before her eyes.

"Riven!" Darius exclaimed, taken aback by the immediate change in atmosphere and the alarming reaction she'd had to the Zaunite. What was she doing? He called her name again, but she didn't hear him until he yanked her weapon from her hold and shoved Singed back. The man had been smirking devilishly, the tight bandages around his mask allowing it to be seen and at the same time adding an unnerving element to the gesture.

Darius waited as Riven seemed to come back to reality once Singed was a distance away. A few summoners had moved to intervene had the exile taken any further action, but eventually relaxed once Darius stepped in.

"I..." Riven began but couldn't seem to finish. She blinked repeatedly and didn't speak for a few more moments.

As soon as she spoke Riven cursed the instability of her voice. "I need to go–it's...I–"

Darius raised one thick eyebrow and cut her struggle off. "Later, then. See you around." With that he turned right into the bar, and Riven was already gone.

* * *

He checked the training area first, then wandered through various common areas and stopped in the dining hall for a cup of tea. Yasuo decided to wait until he found Riven to see if she'd eaten yet and if not, if she'd like to with him. As he filled a mug with water and tried one of the Ionian sounding brews, a man wearing strange goggles he tried not to stare at came up beside him with a an even stranger request.

"Pardon?"

"_Wuju_ pass me the sugar?" The grin on his face spread even wider, and Yasuo wondered if he knew this man...the accent revealed he was Ionian at the very least. Yasuo's brow furrowed and then raised immediately after the joke was clear. His expression was half 'not amused' and half smirking as he realized the hero he was speaking to. He decided to play along, and gave a faux cocky chuckle.

"Wuju? No, I wouldn't." Master Yi replied with a hearty laugh, and smiled. Yasuo wondered if he knew who he was talking to. He didn't return the smile; the younger man's expression returned to a neutral mask to hide his uncertainty as to how he should react.

"It is good to see another samurai in the League. Too many ninjas, I say. _Phyla_, friend." Yi turned and strode away with an almost jolly note, tea and food in hand. Yasuo blinked. Perhaps he would find the tranquility the man wished upon him. It was a standard Ionian salutation but Yasuo couldn't help but think about it as he stirred his own cup of tea.

With a sigh, he grasped the warm cup and walked out into the cool night. He paused and took in the surprising beauty of the garden he'd just happened upon. _Funny how they don't tell you about the best things,_ Yasuo thought as he went deeper, evaluating the flawless trees and flowers that seemed to bask in the moonlight. As he circled around the corner of a path he'd wandered down, the man thanked his luck and smiled with relief.

"Riven," he breathed as he started toward her. She was sitting on a stone bench, facing away from him, but turned as she heard her name from a friend once again. Even from here, Yasuo could see she was not okay. His pace slowed as his heart sunk and he frowned. Finally, he stopped beside her. "Erm, may I...join you?"

Riven nodded and her hair gleamed with the motion. He sat and told himself to focus on what was bothering her rather than how she managed to be pretty even when upset. Something about comparing her white locks and strong, yet delicate features to the blossoms surrounding them seemed ironic. No, he couldn't see her liking that. He didn't actually know what Riven liked, Yasuo realized in the back of his mind.

Yasuo glanced down at his tea, then the garden, then the moon. Riven sighed as she stared at the same spot in the ground. He looked back at her and pursed his lips, unsure of what to say. Eventually he decided to speak.

"Those flowers, over there," Yasuo gestured, "in Ionia...in school they teach us about all this stuff. Plant...biology, or whatever its called. I don't remember much but those..." He hesitated slightly; he could tell Riven was listening but she was still just as wound up as she was when he met her, not moving an inch, not even to look at where he'd pointed.

Yasuo went on.

"They're highly treasured in Ionia. The Basu Lotus." She turned to look at him now, and he paused when their eyes met. His heart quickened. Riven was troubled, he could see it in the crimson eyes that gleamed with moonlight, the remainder of which spilled across her cheekbones and the rounded point of her nose. Her tan skin seemed even darker at the points that received no illumination–the majority of her face.

Yasuo lifted a hand from the steaming cup and it burned with something else entirely. Gently, he grasped her shoulder and spoke as sweetly and softly as his rumbly raspy voice would allow.

"They mean peace."

That seemed impossible. Riven felt alone, though she knew she wasn't, and was incredibly anxious. The damage–all she had lost–she closed her eyes and focused. Yasuo could see her ponder his words as he kept his slate eyes trained on her face.

He was right. In order to move on, Riven desperately needed to relax, to focus, and allow herself to have some peace. Such a thing would not be easy here, but she knew that she could find it. Riven's shoulders relaxed. She could tell that it would have something to do with him.

Another sigh broke from her lips and Riven raised a hand to lay upon his. It was a fairly intimate gesture, at least for what she was used to, and Yasuo reminded himself that such a thing was likely purely platonic. Her eyes did not meet his easily when she did so, but Riven managed to whisper her thanks to the friend at her side. Yasuo withdrew his hand after a moment and they sat together for some time. It seemed like the air was lighter now.

Yasuo finished his tea and announced, "Well, I uh think I'm going to bed...Long day." He offered Riven a smile and she wordlessly walked back to their housing wing alongside him. With a word and a glance they parted for the night.

* * *

THESE KEEP GETTING LONGER, HELP

Writing is too hard. Pretty curious as to what your reactions to this will be.

As a side note, "Phyla" is what Karma used to say after some abilities. It means tranquility in that old Ionian dialect she speaks. SAE ELIESA TERA VI!

As a side side note, I do think that what Darius respects above all is strength. He has no reason to see Riven as weak, so he still respects her.

Thanks for reading, stuff probably hitting the fan in a few chapters. Leave your thoughts in a review!


	8. Chapter 8

Riven was unsure which one of them was worse off socially. Even with all her social anxiety and plagues of awkwardness throughout her life, Katarina was surprising her with a new level of social inability.

She'd essentially come back from the dead and the woman she'd been closest too hadn't said a word to her. It would have made more sense if she'd simply voided her altogether but she could see that Katarina wanted to be around her, at least right now. Katarina, on the other hand, seemed to lack that particular piece of knowledge. Riven had no doubt that she wouldn't be able to express it decently even if the assassin could admit it to herself.

Riven took a break from eating her meal–she could not quite get enough–to glance over at Katarina again. She'd downed her drink–the only thing of hers at the table. At present, the assassin was sitting with uncharacteristic patience usually only witnessed when she was waiting on prey. Riven blinked.

"Are you done?" Katarina's voice met her ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Riven looked at her, then back at her food, and decided Katarina edged out the needs of her gullet _just so_. She stood and gave an affirmative while gathering her dishes to put away.

It was only after she returned Riven realized Katarina wasn't being aloof, she was being emotional. Of course this was in the way that only Katarina could. The exile felt a twinge of concern for the Noxian pinch her gut as she reclaimed her seat beside the woman.

Katarina sighed lightly. She ran a hand from the roots of her crimson hair to the ends, then turned to Riven. "Tell me what happened." The demand sounded tight and there were few times Riven had seen the look Katarina was currently wearing on her visage before. She was noticeably upset to anyone who knew her well.

Riven opened her mouth, thought for a moment, then tried again. "Lets go to my room." She imagined Katarina wouldn't care about going through the Independent wing, but there would certainly be issues if the two of them went to Katarina's room in the Noxian wing. After the assassin nodded, the pair stood and made their way out of the dining hall.

* * *

Katarina silently looked about Riven's rather plain room until the white-haired woman invited her to sit. In the back of her mind, Riven noted it was an ironic reversal of roles; it had always been Katarina hosting her back in Noxus. Even the smallest things had changed, and in some ways stayed the same. Riven stood somewhat awkwardly while Katarina remained silent in the chair she'd taken in the corner, and with a slight start she prompted herself to take a seat as well. She looked at the wooden grain of the floor, as if inspecting the stain or tight arrangement of lines would give her an idea of where to start. Katarina was still looking at her, but had pulled out a knife from _somewhere_. Riven had given up trying to understand how she kept such copious amounts of steel on her person at all times and seemingly in all places.

She supposed she should start with the last time they'd seen each other, so she did.

Riven's voice was threaded with pain. She could see it mirrored in the sharp arc of Katarina's tensed eyebrows, the way her gaze inspected the bandages on Riven's arms, in the give of her thumb as she ran it against the edge of her knife repeatedly. If it were anyone else, they'd be cursing and bleeding, but Katarina only drew blood when she wanted to. Everything about her was precision. As much as her story felt like a distant nightmare, it was equally close, gripping and present; in both ways entirely real.

Riven told her of Coeur Valley. The exile's voice had dropped to a strained whisper as she struggled to control herself with eyes clenched shut. Katarina stood. Riven finished with a quick summation of her travels to the Institute. Unaware of the assassin's movement toward her, she barely suppressed the reactionary thrash of her arm when she felt the edge of a blade running along the length of her arm. Her bandages fell away, rent by the woman standing before her, but there was no blood. Precision. Riven drew her gaze up to Katarina's face as the other arm's wrappings were cut off as well. Katarina still said nothing as she took one of Riven's scarred arms in each hand, testing the erratic texture of her new skin with her thumbs for a moment.

Riven let her, careful to stay still and silent. That muscle in Katarina's jawline was jumping; the woman was upset. She swallowed and let Riven's arms go, and seemed to struggle for a moment. If Riven didn't know any better, she'd say Katarina faltered as she stepped back and sat on the rug. Something was wrong, Riven knew, and at last Katarina spoke.

"Swain did this to you..."

Riven nodded.

"My–he did something to my father. I don't know what, or why, or how.." Riven's mouth gaped in horror at the news. Swain's nerve and ambition was unbelievable! The DuCuteoua name was as close to untouchable as was conceivable in Noxus. What had he done?

Katarina's visage bared all her hatred. "And this..." The woman took in a breath, quaking with rage. "I want to kill him."

They both did.

He was the one man that was indeed untouchable.

Katarina stayed while Riven got up to throw the useless bandaging away. When she came back, Katarina had channelled her stress and anger into her floor. With a knife. The perpetrator didn't seem to notice or care, and if Riven was honest, neither did she. Coming to a stop behind the assassin, Riven sat beside her and lightly touched a hand to her back.

"I'm...really sorry. About your father." The remorse in Riven's tone was as genuine as her respect for the General. Some desperate part of her hoped he was alive. He was like her, like Katarina. A Noxian that sought strength, not power.

"He's not dead." The statement was not lacking in desperation, something she'd never seen from the assassin outside of her impulse to kill.

Riven risked her arm but knew it was worth it. She brought her arm through Katarina's crimson tresses to pull the assassin in by her shoulders for the closest they'd ever come to a hug. What startled Riven was the strength with which Katarina returned the gesture.

* * *

Yasuo looked at the screen in fascination. He and Riven had stumbled upon a lounge for spectating ongoing League matches. While many, many political issues were settled by the League, it seemed a great portion of the matches played were either for practice or fun. In this particular match, it seemed the summoners were aiming for downright absurdity–a team of yordles against titans. Nautilus, Nasus, and Braum were surprisingly getting thrashed by Teemo and Tristana. The pair did not understand much about the match, but the announcer's repeated cries of 'Legendary!' were enough to grasp the dire yet hilarious situation the losing team was in.

Finally, a nexus exploded and that was it. Yasuo wiped a tear from his eye and slowly ramped down, but still chuckled periodically. The only word to describe what the yordles had become was...*devilish*.

"I'm not so sure about this now..." Riven commented snidely.

"I'll just stick to avoiding those guys as long as possible." Yasuo smiled as he turned to face her, something he'd come to accept as inevitable when it came to Riven. "I'm sure you'll do great Riven."

He watched as she flexed and clenched one of her hands repeatedly, turning it over slowly as if she were testing its operation.

"Really though, all of the magic does make me a little... wary. I suppose its something that'll take getting used to." Riven looked back at Yasuo as he gave one of his customary grunts to show his agreement. His elbows were propped on the back of the chair, causing quite a stretch when he leaned his head back and pushed his chest outward. After a moment he relaxed and released the breath he'd been holding, blowing into a few stubborn locks that littered his face. Riven's eye trailed after a lock of hair that spilled away languidly. The man was so prone to relaxing, Riven noticed. Before she could comment comparing his current state to Vel'Koz's tentacles, a summoner called her from the doorway.

"Riven, 'the Exile?'"

"Yes?"

"As a new champion of the League, we must hold a few sessions with you to acclimate both you and the summoners to participation in, and the process of matches themselves. Come with me, please."

"Oh. Well, see you, Riven."

Riven offered Yasuo a slight apologetic smile as she stood and walked after the robed man.

* * *

As she materialized onto the Rift, Riven shook her head and took in her surroundings. It was indeed just as the overhead view she'd had while spectating, but everything was so much larger. Unsure of what to do, Riven attempted to take a few steps forward and found everything pertaining to her body seemed to be in working order. As far as she knew, a very high level summoner was in charge of her today, which brought a small amount of comfort.

_Hello, Exile. _It was jarring, hearing someone's voice in her head. But Noxian mages had set up similar communications for special missions before, so she found it was bearable.

"Um, hello. Call me Riven please."

_Very well. Step over to that shopping area, and pick up a Doran's Blade and one health potion._ Easy enough. When she was finished, Riven stored the health potion on her person, while her summoner made use of the Doran's Blade's effects on Riven.

_"I hope you're as versatile as you seem. Some other summoners and I have been thinking you can go in many roles, but for now, simply walk up the middle lane."_

As her summoner set her on task killing minions and towers, Riven felt herself growing stronger. The man tested and observed her abilities, and eventually asked her something that made her mind run wild with speculation.

_"Focus on your sword. What I'm going to try...think of what it once was"._ Unsure of what he was going to do next, Riven did as she was told.

Suddenly, with a gasp, Riven immediately readjusted her grip on her monstrous weapon as it nearly tripled its weight all at once. Her eyes snapped down in disbelief, wide with wonder and empowerment. She knew it was magic but...the exile felt her veins pulse, her muscles twitch with anticipation. Her sword was remade; Riven was awakened. Her blade seemed to blaze with arcane energies, and with every move Riven was on fire too.

Underneath the adrenaline, Riven could still feel her own brokenness. At the same time, her determination in moving forward to be made whole again seemed to materialize in her blade; it fueled her. With a ferocious cry, Riven let her Wind Slash arc through the air–a powerful display though it had no flesh to rend.

* * *

As soon as Riven left, a woman seemed to materialize near the doorway. Yasuo sat up in surprise. Before he could speak, however, whatever words he had prepared fell away as she blinked next to him.

"You are...what did she call you?" Speechless as he was, Yasuo somehow doubted she did not know his name.

"Mm, yes. Yasuo." He frowned. Everything the mysterious woman said seemed beyond calculated.

"Yes..." He replied cautiously, as if uttering anything else would give information he didn't want to give up. Yasuo didn't know what the could be...but he knew he didn't want her to know.

"You two were just alone in here, hmm?" The woman chuckled, like that implied something. Slightly annoyed, Yasuo squinted and decided she had better get to whatever she wanted to say to him.

"What do you want?"

"You don't know, do you?" Irritation and puzzlement grew upon hearing the woman's words. She chuckled again, never letting go of the smirk upon her lips. "Well then, I won't meddle. Such things typically come out in time. Your company is yours to keep." She looked him up and down. "And you're certainly an interesting one. What a match."

Before he could reply or process much of her cryptic words, the woman disappeared from before Yasuo's eyes. He blinked.

Nope, gone.

He shook his head, desperate to clear his mind of her enigmatic presence and words. No longer in the mood to watch recreational League matches, Yasuo stood and headed to his room, hoping Riven would be done soon.

* * *

I apologize for the extra long wait, but keyboard issues will do that lol. Classes too, though that had nothing to do with this chapter. Trying to move things along! Leave your thoughts in a review, and as always, thank you for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

"Well, how was it?" Katarina posed her query in between quick swigs of Graggy Ice while Riven and Yasuo sipped from their own drinks. It made Yasuo wonder what Gragas would be capable of with all of his talent if he wasn't constantly inebriated beyond belief. Of course, the brew itself and the beginning of Riven's reply quickly turned his mind away from speculation for now.

"It was...great, actually." Riven found her veins tingled as she remembered the feeling of holding her sword again. The alcohol might have had something to do with it as well. Yasuo's proximity however, definitely did not. "Sort of excited to see how my first real match goes."

"Well, you've seen a few right?" The pair of new champions nodded in response.

"But of course its not the same as actually being in the fray..." Yasuo trailed off, half looking for some anecdotes from Katarina, and half imagining some of his own. He was slightly unnerved at the way Katarina's eyes came alive at her own undoubtedly bloody memories of the Rift. Noxians.

Speaking of Noxians...

"Uh, there was something I wanted to tell you about." His eye flitted to Katarina for a second, realised she didn't care and likely wasn't even pay attention, then met Riven's gaze. "Some woman came up to me after you'd left. Tried to talk to me about you...or something." Riven's eyes narrowed in confusion. Katarina took a slow pull from her beer and looked at him, seemingly interested after hearing his words. Things were quiet for a bit as he waited for anything they might have to say, but was only met with three pairs of eyes looking back and forth at each other.

Katarina broke soon after with a roll of her emerald eyes. "Well?"

"Er, well I didn't really catch what she said. Was very...cryptic. Looked Noxian, if I had to guess. She had er...interesting clothing."

"LeBlanc." The two women spoke at exactly the same time, bemusing Yasuo a bit as he searched his mind for why the name sounded familiar. He looked to Riven with an inquiring look.

"She's the mage, the one with Swain."

"Oh." Yasuo thought back, recalling the jist of what she'd said. "She seemed to be implying I should stay away from you for some reason." Riven didn't react, save for another draught of Graggy Ice. He could see the tension in her jaw and the subtle way she flexed her neck and shoulder muscles as the drink took effect. Yasuo cleared his throat.

"I...Noxian or whatever, Riven. I trust you."

Katarina's eyebrow arched high as she took yet another glass of beer while Yasuo and Riven shared a small smile. Upon realizing the assassin was two drinks ahead of him, Yasuo opened his mouth to comment–Katarina was already bringing the glass to her lips–"...Are you not...maybe...going a bit fast there?"

He couldn't blame her, Gragas made exceedingly good drinks. They looked funny, but once you took the leap of faith the reward was deliciously satisfying; no matter how bubbly, thick, or frothy.

"What, you think I'm a lightweight, ponytail?" Yasuo found he had no real reply, a bit dumbfounded as he surveyed her thin, lithe form, searching for something that would indicate otherwise. "Hmph. Typical."

Her crimson hair whipped to the side with her head as she gestured to Talon and he sprung into action. Riven was smirking now, eyes lit up with amusement at the exchange. After a few seconds, Katarina grabbed a tray of shots filled with various swirling liquids of all shades from Talon, and slammed two on the thick wooden table with a _thunk_.

"Ionia, right?" She vaguely gestured at his features with a swift nod. Yasuo blinked and replied, "Uh, yes?"

"Balance this, scrub."

Processing the situation quickly, Yasuo smirked cockily and grabbed the small cup closest to him, full of some suspicious liquid that may have well been conjured form the Void. Naturally, he tipped his head back in unison with Katarina, and drank.

There was absolutely no way, Yasuo reasoned when he felt his arm flex as his elbow bent, that he could lose to the _actual_ lightweight across from him.

* * *

"I thought we were friends, Riven." The miserably slurred speech of the man as he slumped in his seat after conceding defeat only fueled her laughter. "Why didn't you warn me!?"

"She'd have my head if I ruined her fun! You're the one who taunted her anyway." Yasuo's head slammed onto the table as he struggled to stay upright while murmuring something about Noxians and his utter ignorance. "Good gods. Home. Take me home."

Riven gave a slight huff when he unexpectedly slung his weight into her form in the booth, head colliding solidly with her chest. His state was almost as endearing as it was hilarious, causing her to look down at him with a chuckle and thread a hand through his hair. "Of course."

Katarina sat across from them still, revelling in her victory and unbelievably–seeming to be only slightly inebriated. "You have fun with...that," She gestured to Yasuo's drooping form as Riven attempted to stand and comfortably haul him up. "Lets do this again some time, kiddo." With one last wry smile at Yasuo's state of defeat, she stood and strode out of the bar.

Unfortunately–or as Riven thought in the back of her mind, _fortunately_–the bar was a fair distance from Yasuo's dorm. Had it been anyone but herself, carrying the near–dead weight of Yasuo's muscular, tall form would have been a problem. The only problem Riven had along the way was keeping her focus off of the way his heated body felt next to hers as she hauled his weight close to her own form. Periodically he'd call her name or something entirely random, so she'd just smile and nod.

After dredging through the lengthy halls of the Institute for some time, Riven came upon their destination at last, and deposited Yasuo in his bed. She took a few moments to take his plain, but Ionian room in. Part of Riven wanted to just kick off her boots and sleep on the small couch in the other room, but she was pretty sure that'd would not end well. Yes, they had travelled together for some time, but Riven did _not_ need to suddenly wake up to an unsuspecting Yasuo, naked or close to it, thinking he was alone in his apartment. Even if she asked to stay right now, she knew there was next to no chance of him remembering it when he woke up.

Resolving to leave and taking a few steps back to Yasuo's bedroom doorway, Riven stretched her limbs and yawned. It had been a fun night with Katarina and the proud, fallen samurai. At first, she looked at his limp figure with a grin, but it faded. Moon and starlight subtly shaded and highlighted the ripples and dips of his muscled back, entrancing Riven for longer than she wanted to admit. She quickly credited her desire to _stay_ to the drinks that were still coursing through her system, and while she had not gone overboard like Yasuo and Katarina, alcohol was alcohol. She felt her gaze shift to the loose lock of hair trailing along his jaw and blinked, prompting herself to step back and leave. Turning and exiting with swift, but quiet steps, Riven made the short trip back to her own room.

* * *

Yasuo could swear that bout of binge drinking left him hungover for at least two days. Luckily his first match would fall of the third day after the disaster, giving him ample time to prepare though he didn't know what to expect.

He blinked rapidly as the heavy magic used to transport teams to the Rift wore off, replaced by an entirely different sort. As he looked out from the platform, he could tell it was all fueled by sorcery. It was slightly unsettling, and on impulse his hand grasped the hilt of his sword tightly as he gathered himself. Taking a deep breath, not sure if the very air he breathed was somehow altered as well, Yasuo surveyed the other four champions around him. Some were buying items, others were already on their way to their predetermined lanes. Riven, however stood still and surprised him with a beautiful smile that, had he not known her, he surely would have attributed to the summoners' magic.

He took it all in for just one second–time was of the essence, his summoner reminded him. The woman's excitement made his stomach flit and buzz with...something he could not blame on his slight nervousness. Yasuo managed to return Riven's smile gently after she wished him good luck and went off to the shopkeeper to buy items herself. It was a wonder how much she came alive when fighting.

Yasuo's summoner broke into his thoughts with some remarks on his opponent, prompting Yasuo to focus and well, stop thinking about Riven.

* * *

Yasuo knelt on the fountain, desperately in need of rejuvenation. As he felt his livelihood return, he finished off his third item and headed to the dragon pit. The match was a close one, and being his first, it was hard for the samurai to keep up. Riven, however, seemed to be doing well. She held the majority of their teams kills coming out of the 'lane phase'–5 out of their 8 to the enemy team's 10. Apparently there had been some shenanigans in the top lane.

As he rounded the corner to the dragon pit, Yasuo slowed and waited in the tall grass with his teammates. The Radiant Dawn, Leona–who was currently being very 'radiant' in the corner of his eye, causing him to shield his face with a free hand–had set up wards so that they could blitz the enemy team when they arrived.

Eventually, they did. Fortunately, the enemy team seemed to lack wards themselves. A few seconds after they decided to start attacking the dragon, Riven gave the signal to go.

Leona stunned the enemy team instantly, giving Riven time to slide and slash her way into the fray, managing to lock down a few key members with her strength.

Yasuo knew he should have gone in with them, then, but he couldn't move.

Riven let out a furious shout and in one instant, unleashed her power–somehow managing to materialize her weapon. It was the same dance he'd seen, the one he'd braced himself against just a few weeks ago.

As she twisted in the air with elegance and at the same time, a greater measure of brutality than he had ever seen from the woman, a razor edge of wind came hurtling from her blade, bringing a swift end to both Lucian and Annie.

His heart seized–Yasuo found his mind was not much better off.

By the time he recovered, only managing to help secure the last few kills, he felt more lost than perhaps any other instance in his life. The remainder of the match was an insignificant blur. Yasuo followed his summoner's orders as best he could through his own internal chaos at this new, but accidental revelation.

_A wind blade?_

_Impossible._ His mind vehemently clung to the sentiment–impossible! It could not be!

Yasuo knew, hidden underneath his denial–he tried to shove the barest possibility away–he knew it was there. Even so, he grit his teeth against the very idea his _everything_ was raging against; _Riven killed Elder Kul_.

* * *

This is one of the shortest I've written in a long time, but I SWEAR it has to be this way. The way I want to break up chapters and with how things ended up being written in this one, I couldn't really _not_ cut it off here. Basically it was either have a massive 5k+ chapter or cut this one at 2k.

Yeah, thats the name I made up for the elder Yasuo abandoned that got dunked. RIP Elder Kul.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you guys are still enjoying it! Leave your thoughts in a review, they are very much appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

_Genteel currents of wind swept through the valley and fluttered through Yasuo's hair at their leisure. Lying back against a slope on his elbows left his dark tendrils free to be mussed and twisted by the breeze. Sounds of the raucous play between his brother and two friends from the academy met his ears faintly, teasing his lips up into a smile._

_Yasuo lifted his head up to the shining sun and took a deep breath of fresh Ionian air._

And sent it in a rush from his lungs as he crushed his fist against the wall. Irrational anger pealed through his system, concealing his doubts and twisting into his confusion–melding into the surety, the answer he'd been wanting all along.

_Riven...killed Elder Kul._

Anger.

_An argument with his brother; nothing new._

_Not any less infuriating._

_The only master of fūton style Ionia's seen in generations–castigated on the regular for skipping training, avoiding duties, and his apparent pride._

_"Am I not the best samurai of the academy? Leave rudimentary, useless classes for those who need them–you can't possibly expect me to sit under a teacher I have surpassed!"_

_"Yasuo!" Yone's stern bark only upset his brother further._

"Yasuo!" Riven.

Yasuo whipped his head to the source of the call, frown fitted on his face with a glare to match. His gut twisted. In an instant, he turned and walked out of Summoner's Hall onto the path to housing wings.

_"Your pride will be your ruin, Yasuo–"_

_"Prove it!" In blink of an eye, Yasuo drew his blade and twisted his wrist to slash at Yone, steel still ringing with brusque challenge._

_Yone sidestepped and swiftly blocked with his armguard while pulling his longer katana from its sheath. The unexpected recoil from Yone's instant block gave enough time for the elder to drag his blade up with the natural arc of his arm._

_Yasuo sprung back, but as the cold steel flashed before his eyes shut _reflexively_, he knew he'd lost. His knees met the floor and Yasuo grimaced and clenched his face in pain and shame at his swift defeat._

_"I know the greatness in you, brother. More than you've realized. You're an amazing swordsman–but there is so much more to living. Your pride shackles you and you can't even see it. I only hope you'll elect to listen...someday."_

_Blood trickled through his hand, along the sides of his face, down his nose, onto his tunic._

Yasuo twisted the cold metal of the doorknob hard and crashed into his apartment, not knowing where else to go. He found himself sitting on his bed, arched over himself in a haze of anger and pain.

_He was trembling, struggling to breathe–Yasuo erratically scraped frigid air down into his lungs as he knelt over his fallen brother._

_The hot blood on his sword was steaming slightly in contrast to the dark, cold night; its flow onto the ground as he dropped it was sluggish as it gradually cooled. His tears, however, fell fast, unencumbered by the temperature._

_The wound was too great. Yone would die. Already he could see his brother fading, likely a failure of both his body and his heart._

Everyone knows the festering heat of rage within, the paralyzing, fleeting pulses of pure joy. Yasuo himself knew the pressing ache of shame and how his heart cooled and hardened with pride. Yasuo knew betrayal. He knew failure.

He had never encountered whatever was presently rending his chest in the grey of his bedroom.

He missed his brother. If he could admit it, underneath it all he found himself missing Riven too.

Her face was bound to the forefront of his mind as memories and emotions rushed by in the background. Each consideration of her guilt–and his–was another blow to his conscience. Yasuo could not wait, he didn't know where else to turn to know for sure.

* * *

Riven reeled from the look of contempt she'd witnessed on Yasuo's face as he sped away. Shocked, but above all, confused, she was left partially unaware of and defenseless against Katarina's "suggestion" that they go to the bar.

"What do you need Mr. Lightweight Longlocks for? Come on, tell me how much blood you spilt. Did you fight Tryndamere? Renekton?"

"Why them–are you shaking? Kat, what the–" She turned and saw the eager bloodlust evident in Katarina's probing look and anticipatory smirk. Riven cut herself off and rolled her eyes. Assassins. No, no. Just Katarina.

After seating themselves and procuring their share of alcohol, Riven found herself longing for Yasuo's presence at the bar, recalling the fun they'd had last time he was here with her. The atmosphere was the same–dark, populated, traces of sorcery swirling through the air, yet she felt a growing tinge of sadness as what had happened earlier pressed on her mind, replacing the euphoria from her exertion during the match. Riven instinctively tried to cloak her sadness as much as possible, and considering her background, it should have been enough. Her strong yet feminine features betrayed nothing of her heart. Katarina, or anyone else for that matter, wouldn't notice.

She took another draught of pale Freljordian ale, drinking in the silence of their table along with it. Realizing she'd been staring mindlessly into space for some seconds, Riven's crimson eyes sought out the crimson hair of her companion.

Katarina was staring at her.

Their eyes locked.

Katarina noticed.

The assassin's eyebrows and lips always drew together slightly when she was thinking. The minute way in which her pale skin tautened and puckered was reminiscent of what Yasuo did when he was dreaming or deep in thought.

"You haven't even told me anything yet." So she wasn't going to say anything, at least not yet. The redhead sounded sore about what she had said; she was doubtless as excited hear about Riven eviscerating four champions at once with her Wind Slash as Riven herself was to have done it.

"Right..right." On Riven's end, the excitement had gone elsewhere. She searched for match highlights to discuss with Katarina but found her mind was stuck on Yasuo. Pushing past the endless query of _What happened?_ internally, Riven told her friend what she wanted to hear.

Riven could have sworn Katarina's eyes _danced_ with all the gore she described.

The rest of their night was riddled with intermittent comments and conversation. Katarina's smile was in response to a joke, in her defense, but something about it helped soothe a bit of Riven's malcontent. Riven finished off the last bit of her drink grateful to Katarina for what she knew was some sort of covert compassion and support. She knew so much of Katarina was in the little things.

* * *

Yasuo pushed and scraped out his tension in every push of the balls of his feet against the hard floor as he strode swiftly toward his destination. He tensed his muscular form absentmindedly, unable to do anything else to release the fitful maelstrom inside. Admittedly, nothing helped. After finally coming upon the door he sought and immediately pounding on the dark wood briskly with his knuckles, Yasuo waited.

The seconds that passed were tinder to the flame of his furious impatience. If only he could simply smash through the door–the only thing between him and _answers_.

Yasuo waited long enough to briefly consider the novel idea that the one he was looking for may not actually be there–and then the door swung open.

LeBlanc arched an eyebrow wordlessly, appraising the tense, disquieted Ionian at her doorstep.

Yasuo didn't look at her.

LeBlanc frowned slightly and brought the slim, tapered digits of her left hand to rest on her hip. Of all the things she expected of Ionians based on her own interactions and prejudices, rudeness was not one of them. The mage scoffed lightly, providing an appropriate prelude to the phrase that would follow.

"May I help you?"

Yasuo's grey eyes zeroed in on LeBlanc's amber orbs. What a turn of events.

_The old man's eyes were barely visible through the narrow slits that concealed them when he smiled. No one had smiled at Yasuo and his brother like that for a long time. Yone gawked, looking from his little brother to the man with a face tense with hopeful trepidation._

_"I know what its like to be out here...on the streets." The old man chuckled, and his beard went along for the ride, quivering in joy for a second. "I also know when I see talent–" He looked at Yone now, "and drive."_

_"How can you? We're just playing. We don't have any money for that." Yasuo still only stoof in wonder at the man's words, while Yone was already thinking practically as usual._

_"Trust me. This academy will change your lives, and I know what I see in you two. It won't be easy...but speaking from experience, it is worth it. I'll take care of the arrangements."_

_Yone thought about it for some time, while Yasuo only wondered why such an offer would need to be thought over at all. At last, his brother agreed to their new lives; admittance to the Shoūj-ni Academy._

"Yes." Yasuo answered brusquely but did not elaborate. LeBlanc's only reaction was such a slight smirk Yasuo was not even sure she'd done it at all.

"With?" He started in surprise, then turned and jabbed his elbow into whoever had appeared behind him and said that–only to be met with a cloud of intangible mist. Yasuo blinked in bewilderment for a beat then turned back to LeBlanc and glared.

The smirk was definitely there.

"Well?"

Yasuo scowled, then sighed. "Riven. I need to know something about her role in the Ionian Conflict."

The Matron of the Black Rose stepped back and opened her shoulders, pulling her elbow back and bringing the door along with it. As he stepped past the threshold, Yasuo took note of the elaborate wallpaper and carpeting. The decór would have been exquisite had it not been Noxian.

LeBlanc pointed him toward a chair. He sat.

When he felt her weight of her stare on him, adding to the weight on his shoulders with all of its relentless expectation...Yasuo closed his eyes and _hated_, despised where he was in every sense. With a shuddering breath of disgust, he spoke.

"Her...assignments. In the war. What did she do?"

"A lot of things. You need to be more specific unless you want me to tell you everything, which I doubt. And that is, of course, assuming I'm going to tell you anything at all."

Every word was venom in his veins. Excruciating presence and potential. Yasuo forced the words out. He had to.

"Did you ever use her as an assassin for important targets?"

In the silence before her answer, Yasuo felt his heart twist and constrict, sick with all the anguish and anger it held. Then he felt it start to break.

"Yes. Two elders, specifically."

The weight was crushing him, and again–just like at his trial–it felt like his lungs were filled with sand.

It was true.

The only confusion left was how he felt about all of this. No, of course Riven didn't know...that she did_ it._

_Or that I'm responsible._ Yasuo's eyes screwed shut while his head fell into his hands. _Yone was right._

In his mind's eye, the black behind his eyes gave way to the dark blue-black moonless sky he killed his brother under. It hit him all over again.

_Yone is gone._

Yasuo stood and left the room, mind buzzing with thoughts and swarmed with emotions anew. He didn't thank her–why would he? He headed back to his own apartment instinctively. All of this was exhausting. Most of the irrational anger had faded or was eclipsed by gnawing pain, regret, and disappointment.

He stripped down to his pants and let his hair down as he prepared to lay on his bed. Yasuo reached into the drawer of his nightstand and retrieved the bottle of Bristle, sitting up just enough to drink without making a mess, Yasuo filled the small cup he kept on his person with the potent alcohol.

From this angle, he could see his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. The scar and dark stubble on his face melded with the dark shadows that played on his face. Twilight was fading. Waning waves of light crept into his bedroom as if seeking a silent shadowy grave. Slight highlights on his eyes, long locks of hair, and the faint glow of the light that remained were all that allowed his reflection to be seen at this point. Yasuo tipped his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

His mind invariably drifted to Riven at all times it seemed.

It was almost like this changed nothing at all, yet it changed everything.

How would he tell her about this?

He was in a much more calm state than earlier, free from the blanket of confusion, disbelief, urgency and fury that clouded his thoughts previously.

Riven? This didn't change what she was now...what she was to him now. Despite all of this he still–he still what?

Yasuo inhaled sharply as his internal organs seemed to flip. Seconds ticked by and his shock at what he'd almost thought faded into understanding and acceptance. The sound of his own dark chuckle filled the room. Of course he loved her. He sighed and half-smiled at the thought of her, just Riven. Not the circumstance or what they both had done.

Beauty and strength came to mind along with her silver tresses and crimson eyes, all accompanied by the memory of her sweet laughter.

He was truly smiling now, despite himself.

Yasuo realized the internal anger and disgust were all for himself. Resentment and hatred for his own failures, flaws, and the harsh rippling consequences had weighed on him for so long, even when he tried to blame other things and people. He had not done his own job–he'd failed, He cut his own brother down. He ran.

He would talk to Riven, he had to. About everything. Yasuo knew he could forgive her–in a way he already had, that evening on the cargo ship to Bilgewater that seemed so long ago.

Yasuo had to forgive himself.

He needed to move on, and by the gods Yasuo wanted to move on _with_ her. He desperately wanted to let all of this pain go, and never let _her_ go.

Yasuo lay down fully and fell asleep to thoughts of Riven and the unceasing wind.

* * *

New keyboard. MX Greens!

I'm back baby.

As always, I thank you for reading my story and for any feedback you choose to give. Every review is appreciated!

To the Guest who skipped class to read Mirrors...thanks(lol). Your compliments mean a lot. I hope you're reading this and that you're enjoying it.

*A small side note: LeBlanc reveals that Riven killed two elders, as according to hints in the lore, she took part in slaughtering Varus's village as well as killing the elder Yasuo was guarding.


	11. Chapter 11

Uhhhh, hey guys. Sorry for the 6 month break LOL.

There'll be a new chapter soon. I may have stopped playing League, but I do want writing practice(luckily, this is how I'm doing it for now).

Comments/reviews/flames appreciated. Drop a line when you're done reading to let me know what you think! Thanks for reading as always.

This chapter is dedicated to Redgum.

* * *

_Riven looked up and instinct drove her toes into the ground below, hard, as another powerful zephyr came at her. Yasuo could see her face over the flat of her blade, emerald runes flickering with anticipation of battle but held back by her astonishment and unexpected reluctance to fight. He caught her widened eyes with his own. Her deep crimson eyes only abetted the deep pulling impulse in his psyche calling for blood. Her silver tresses caught light and flashed white as they flew backwards, blown back easily by the wind._

_Yasuo tightened his grip on his katana, quaking with rage. She couldn't be serious–acting coy and running like this._

_If only she would stop with the games._

_Regardless, he would kill her. Maybe this was her sick Noxian way of reveling in her own death._

_She seemed to want to talk, to try to reason her way out of it. Riven lowered her blade and opened her mouth, all at the wrong time. Yasuo slid forward on the swift current of wind and as he twisted his torso and flourished the thin, hard steel of his blade, felt it shred through flesh and fabric. Riven grunted and threw her momentum to the side to create enough distance for momentary safety from Yasuo._

_The ribboned flesh of her side and upper back bled a curtain of crimson. Adrenaline numbed her response, allowing her to retaliate. She charged forward, a danger sparking behind her trepidation to fight her friend. It was clear now that Yasuo was out to kill her. As she spun into a crouch to provide energy for her jump, Riven caught the flash of Yasuo's blade, poised to intercept her customary flip. She switched directions and sprang into the air early, using the torque of her forceful spin and the weight of her blade to power a kick that caught Yasuo in the underside of the jaw. Riven couldn't feel the bone give through the thick toe of her military issue boots, but she'd seen what that kind of impact could do. As he reeled from the impact, Riven spun and brought her blade around, over, and down with crushing force._

_He scrambled to the side, avoiding the weight of her cleaving strike by a hair._

_Yasuo glared at her from where he stood, clutching his jaw. The excruciating break coupled with the shadows from above only made deepened the incensed expression he wore. The sharp, dark lines of his face portrayed all of the hatred he had for this woman. He couldn't wait to see her eviscerated, bleeding, cold on the ground. Yasuo grimaced as new pain registered in his side–he found was sporting the exact wound he'd inflicted on her._

_Before he could process what had happened, Riven came at him again. She drove the deadly arc of her weighty blade at his weak side, dragging the blade into the air from its position behind her. Midway, before she could sever his head or break into his other side, Yasuo managed to dash in close–impossibly quick, with the wind–and brought his sword in a clean upward arc as he turned._

_Contact. Even in the the singularity of mind brought on by a fight to the death, he could feel the satisfaction of cutting flesh, of letting blood flow._

_Riven had two matching deep gashes. The second started just before the first had ended, running deep into her back and shoulder blade. Her arm quaked with effort as she tried to hold the heavy zweihänder up–only to be denied by severed muscles and a body succumbing to shock. Yasuo felt it next, the mirror image of her new wound on his own body. He hissed and groaned in agony as he tried to stay on his feet. Thirsty for retribution, he turned his head to see Riven pale and shaking on the ground, staring at him, breathless._

_With an unforgiving, final stare, he managed to stand from his crouch, grasp his katana in his other hand, and sever Riven's windpipe as she gasped his name, eyes full of fear and tears._

* * *

Riven walked lightly through the gardens at dawn. Part of her hoped that she'd find Yasuo in an alcove or on a bench whenever she turned a corner. The other part churned with anxiety at the thought of seeing him, still puzzled and concerned over yesterday's events.

The air was tinged gold with the light of a new day filtering through the clouds overhead in thin ribbons and rays.

Finally finding a secluded area that was free of those plants that bore a disconcerting resemblance to Zyra, Riven sat, fingers immediately tearing at the grass upon which they alighted. A sense of solitude set in as seconds sailed by. She clenched the surviving blades of grass and took a breath, listening to the silence of the early morning. Eventually opting to lay on her back, her eyes met the clouded sky, and her mind fell on Yasuo.

She wished her hand was playing with his hair instead of pulling up grass, but she quickly pushed the feeling out and fought against the thought of him next to her. She just wanted to see him, needed to straighten whatever happened out.

The wind pushed two expansive but wispy clouds together up above.

Riven closed her eyes, and kept them closed for a long time, concentrating on the feel of a light breeze on her arms and running through her hair and over her face. Clearing her mind was a bit of a useless affair–_Yasuo, Yasuo, Yasuo–_crept back in incessantly. She decided to seek him out after picking up a cup of tea but made no move to get up. It seemed every other morning of her life had been running or preparing to train or destroy. Riven opened her eyes, savoring the cool ground beneath her, the calm time to herself, the hint of the foreign feeling of relaxation. Thoughts of Yasuo began to press in on her again.

Riven sat up at the sudden sound of light footsteps. Who could that be? She was deep in the gardens and it was still quite early. Sheer pink fabric and a sandal flowed into her vision first, leaving Riven confused for a second, until an Ionian Mantle appeared behind the woman. Two dragons. The realization of who she was practically turned Riven into stone.

Slightly surprised at the unexpected champion in the secluded area, Karma raised her eyebrows and came to a stop before smiling gently. "Hello," she offered.

Riven noticed the awkward silence and the patient expectation of the Ionian before she found her voice. She swallowed against the weight that had settled into her throat, tensed her arms to fight the tingling feeling running along her scars.

"Hello..."

"I'm Karma, Duchess of Ionia. We haven't met yet, though you do look familiar," Karma's kind smile endured.

Riven's heart pounded. She considered getting up and leaving over responding with her name and title. What title, anyway? _"Hi, I'm Riven, Destroyer of Innocents."_

Riven dipped her head, drew strength to stand, and faced Karma, unsure what to say even as she opened her mouth to speak. "We...haven't, no. I'm Riven. Just Riven." She could see Karma's eyes dart down to the Noxian remnants of her uniform as she nodded, but the Duchess said nothing.

She smiled again, made eye contact, and wished Riven well before moving on through the gardens. Riven stood there, contemplating the encounter over and over, unsure if Karma knew who she was, if she was supposed to bow, if she should have said more. Sighing after a minute, she began to trace her steps through the garden to get that tea and find Yasuo.

* * *

The rōnin sat in a sufficiently isolated corner of the cafeteria, sipping a cup of white tea. He'd been hoping to catch her coming in, sipping from the small cup, perhaps a bit slower than necessary, as he continued to scan the entrances. The warmth of the beverage helped calm his slight uneasiness at what he could remember of his dream presumably brought on by the strength of his initial anger yesterday. Hurting Riven was unthinkable. He'd let go of revenge some time ago, all due to Yone's last words. Yasuo exhaled heavily.

_Does Riven even eat breakfast?_ Minutes continued to pass by as if in answer.

There! His initial relief at seeing her morphed into tension almost immediately. Their relationship was going to change forever once he told her about what happened. He doubted the necessity of it for a moment, but realized it was impossible to avoid it. She'd be able to tell something was different as soon as she laid eyes on him.

He threw the rest of the tea back and stood tall as he walked toward her, anxious. He approached her from behind.

"Riven," he'd said it more sharply than he'd meant to, between his nerves and bracing himself to speak normally he only managed to alarm her–she jumped upon hearing his voice. Great start.

He noticed her taut shoulders as she turned to face him and felt a measure of remorse for his actions, and tried to look as apologetic as he felt. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. She finally met his eyes. "I'm sorry for yesterday. I have...explaining to do. Come to my room?"

Riven nodded, heart skipping at the small, tentative smile he gave her when she did. Somehow it was both sad and genuine, she noted on their way to his room.

* * *

His living room was dark, cloaked in blue-grey as Yasuo let Riven in.

A bit of light came through the doorway, flowing in from the window on the far side of his bedroom. The brief burst of illumination from the hall as they entered was gone as quickly as it had came, leaving Yasuo and Riven alone. They were close–they hadn't taken a step beyond what was necessary to let him close the door. Her eyes flicked to his. She found herself all too aware of his proximity and attention. He stood still, grey eyes reading both sullen and wanting, full of uncertainty just like hers. Neither one moved while Riven struggled to find her voice.

She spoke quietly, feeling that she needed to because of the darkness, though she realized that didn't make much sense some time after. "What did you want to say?"

"I..yesterday. I was angry...but I shouldn't have lashed out at you. There's something you don't know."

Riven worried her lip between her teeth and said nothing. They hadn't looked away yet, there was a tension building between them on more than one level. Riven took a silent breath to calm down before he broke whatever the news was.

Yasuo looked down and screwed his eyes shut as he hid his face in his hands for a few seconds. After, he looked to the side and tried to still his shaking hands. His voice shook as he spoke.

"You...you were the one that assassinated the man I was supposed to guard. In the war."


	12. Chapter 12

"Explain how you know for sure," Riven pleaded. Yasuo had never heard her sound so desperate.

So he gave all the details, revealed how he made the connection and confirmed it. Riven remembered leading the mission, working her way through the small town and the guards–some were very weak swordsmen, likely unqualified students. It made sense, it all fit. At some point, she had wiped the blood of Yasuo's charge, friends, and acquaintances off of her sword. What were the chances? She sucked air into her lungs as her vision lost focus, stuck on dust particles hanging lazy and indifferent in a shaft of light. Yasuo waited for her to say something, observing her reaction as the truth of the past came out in the open.

Riven staggered back, hands clutching her head and running through her silver hair. Finding her back against a wall, she ran her hands over her face as her entire form withered. She could feel her sword digging into her back. Riven hadn't said anything yet, but the diffused glow of her runic blade betrayed some of what was going on inside–furious turmoil. Yasuo traced her steps, stopping in front of her and coaxing her hands away from her face.

Perplexed by his gentleness, Riven opened her eyes and looked at him in anguish. All his features spoke to her of Ionia and the terrible wake of blood she'd left there. When she tried to speak and her voice cracked into a sob, empathy took over and drew his hand to hers. Riven put her head back against the wall and opened her red eyes, tried again. The way she whispered to him pulled forth memories of dying men, their bodies rent by his own blade. The searing pain that came only with thoughts of Yone forced him to blink back tears. He looked at the strap that held her sword to her back briefly. _Yes…the story of a sword is inked in blood._

"I'm sorry Yasuo, I-I could say it a thousand times but–" the way she stopped abruptly reminded him of his friends choking on their own blood.

"Can't undo the past," He finished. Her body seemed to collapse in on itself with that, burdened by regret.

"This is my fault. All of it. Your brother, the elder.." Riven looked at Yasuo's hair, his cheekbones, could feel her scarred arms burning again, muscles aching just like they did after weeks on the battlefield. She'd practically bathed in the blood of Ionians, had done the cruel bidding of High Command, but it had never felt quite so personal as this. Unforgivable.

Riven was shaking. The hands he held had done so much harm–she snatched them back, making fists before running them over her arms.

"Riven.." She seemed so frantic, fragile, burning with self-hatred. Yasuo struggled for words. "I'm not even close to being over those things, but I've accepted my burden in this," she shook her head weakly, jaw clenching. "I killed my brother. Me. And I killed those sent after me. And I abandoned the elder."

"And I killed him," Riven added. Yasuo sighed, feeling heavy.

"Yes."

Riven pushed his hand away and walked a few paces away into the center of the room, back towards Yasuo. "What do you want me to do?" Her posture was that of a soldier's, waiting to take on whatever she had to.

"What do you mean?"

She spun toward him, blade flashing bright, muscles wound tight, eyes hard and ablaze. "I," She seemed to want to say too much at once, all Yasuo could do was take her in. She was angry, overwhelmingly so, and as far as he could tell all the rage was for herself. "I have to pay. For what I've done."

"It's not my place to go down that road…not that I could. Not with you." His statement puzzled Riven–it was the exact opposite of what he should think. She couldn't understand what he meant. "What are you saying? You don't even know the half of what–" Yasuo surged forward and gripped her shoulders, cutting her off.

"Riven," Instinct kicked in. She had started, probably because of the violence she expected from him, and had her hands in motion to retaliate before she froze, seeing there was no threat. Her hands relaxed, landing on his chest and shoulders. "I couldn't do anything to you, not even if I wanted. And I don't. Truly." He swallowed and kept his eyes on hers. "We're the same. Don't you see? We both need redemption."

His chest tightened as he breathed shakily for a moment, fighting an impulse to hold her tight. The longer he looked at her skin and silver hair, red eyes and cheeks contrasting magnificently, the more strongly he felt. "…And I just want to find that together." He thought he saw a tear finally spill over but she ducked her head and processed what he'd said. The last thing he'd registered on her face had been some mixture of bewilderment and relief.

"Okay." She sounded breathless. Forgiveness was one of the last things that should have been expected, he supposed. Their eyes met again, then searched the other's face. Seconds ticked by. Dust roamed the air in the shifting, muted light. Their shadows shifted, melding together on the wall, mimicking their embrace.

"I don't understand you," Riven admits into his shoulder, voice soft and muffled. His deep chuckle only served to confuse her more, all while coaxing a smile onto her face. "I think you're the only one that really does." Her face colored at the way his voice resonated and rumbled against her. His warmth was overwhelming even in spite of the situation. Riven shuddered. They lingered a few more moments, then separated. Eye contact felt electrified and new.

"Well, I never got what I went to the dining hall for," Riven trailed off, unsure if he would want to come with her and a little too flustered with all that had happened to ask. "I'll come with you." Riven looked back and shot him a smile as they stepped into the hallway.

* * *

"I didn't know you enjoyed drinking tar," Yasuo peered into her cup, appalled at how dark the tea was. Ionia was populated with all sorts of oolongs and green and white teas. He'd never even considered what a Noxian brew might look like. Tea didn't seem like their thing, but the crimson color certainly fit Noxus.

Riven rolled her eyes and took a sip. "I guess this doesn't grow in Ionia then. It's called pu-erh…Pretty popular in Noxus." Another sip, looking at him this time. Yasuo relaxed into the seat and carded a hand through his thick dark hair. This was pleasant, but he was starting to think about the practical implications of what they knew now. Without realizing it, he sighed as his eyes fell into a blank stare.

"What's wrong?" Yasuo blinked a few times and met Riven's eyes again. The tea seemed to have stained her lips slightly, making them pop against her skin.

"It's just…this is a very awkward thing," Riven stiffened, prompting internal panic in Yasuo. "I-I mean our…legal-fugitive status. We've made it to the League, which means immunity, but where are we going from here?"

"You mean _my_ 'legal-fugitive' status. I'm the key to absolving you of what had you on the run in the first place." Riven gripped her cup, half full of the ruddy liquid, hands tense as she thumbed the rim. "Both Ionia and Noxus will want me to answer for what I've done." Yasuo swallowed, looking away. Riven still had her eyes on him, though her face was entirely sombre. "If we went to Ionia as champions to sort things out, what would they do?"

"I don't know," Yasuo said. Something made him nervous, despite their membership in the League granting protection from their respective city-states. It was like a red thread of guilt was what held them together–the more Yasuo thought about it the more he could see it was indeed the foundation of this bond they shared. How they met, what drove them here, why they identified with each other so strongly. His chest felt heavy. It could snap and tear them apart, or wind around their wrists and necks and end them–

Something suddenly blinked behind Riven and startled both of them out of their brief silence. "Oh," Yasuo breathed, recognizing the form that came into view. Riven's hand had slipped in surprise as she turned and spilled her tea. Yasuo pressed his lips together at the sight of her hands covered in the vermillion liquid.

"Hey Riv." Katarina regarded Yasuo for about half a second, then turned back to her old friend. "Listen," She seemed serious as she lowered her voice, especially after picking up on the mood off their conversation before she interrupted. Riven turned around to look at her, brow furrowed in concern and confusion. She shook some of the mess on her hands off to the side.

"Swain and your _friend_ aren't playing around with the ways they've 'noticed' you. They haven't quite gotten over your…survival." Yasuo watched as Riven's neck muscles tensed and her pulse point jumped.

"What are you saying? They can't do anything, I'm a champion."

"You know their power has always reached far beyond where it should." Riven didn't respond for a while, remembering her violent trysts with Katarina in Bilgewater, cutting throats and limbs at Swain's command. "What reason do they have to put so much effort into trying to kill me?" Katarina took the seat next to her, leaned in close.

"You're a threat to what they're building. Noxus is…well, you know. Not what it was. They know the principles we have–me, you, Darius, are not the same as theirs. They killed my father preemptively, and they know that their death-defying paragon could be a problem." Katarina paused, looking between the two of them, tracing something and making the connection in her mind. "You two…the both of you are high-profile, strong, and rebellious. I know you didn't think you'd be slipping under anyone's radar." Riven nodded, fidgeting with her hands. The tea had started to dry. Katarina stood to leave with one last whisper, eyeing the rest of the crowd in the dining hall.

"Just watch yourself."

* * *

It's NaNoWriMo! I plan to finish the story this month alongside working towards a novel. It's really been too long, I'm sorry TT. Had some trouble and doubts with what I wanted to do with the story again.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. Review!


	13. January 19th baby

Hey guys, apologies for the fake update. I hate seeing a story that hasn't been updated in a while pop up with a 'new chapter' and have it turn out to be an author's note...

But here we are :^)

I just wanted to let you know that I've been working on several chapters at once, and I intend to post all of them at once as soon as they're tidied up. ETA is before January 19th, as that is when my semester starts. Sorry about the delay(again), but NaNoWriMo just didn't happen for me. I've made a few personal changes and am writing more consistently now–mostly trying to finish this up. If you have any comments, feel free to pm me or leave a 'review.'

In other(irrelevant) news, I'm still deciding on writing some Zed fanfiction. As with Mirrors, part of the difficulty with that would be the fact that I am not really playing League, and don't think I will be in the foreseeable future. I've had ideas for a while but for me it's playing the game that inspires me to write for it, not watching streams/pro games...which is what I do now.

**TL;DR: I'm dropping several chapters(6 or 7 at least) in about 2 weeks, will be the entire rest of the story.**


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