Vi didn't know much about war.

She knew plenty about war games, sure, but that was just it, wasn't it? Life before the age of six was a blank empty void; Vi literally had not known a world without the "civility" provided by the League. The last of the Rune Wars had been well before her time, and she'd never had the luxury of listening to grandfolks swap war stories around the fireplace.

War just wasn't a thing that Piltover pondered too deeply.

The invasion, of course, had caused a ripple for the nearby Citizens of Progress. But the Institute got that locked down and sanctioned and squared away and it was all over soon enough. It flew by the awareness of a fourteen-year-old Vi. Too busy ducking out from the long arm of both sides of the law, scrounging for suitable junk parts, and saving up for her next meal, the lanky teen just didn't have time for war.

She dug Ionia, though. Later on, she had the Ionian word for "power" fitted among the gears on her left-arm sleeve. She also got the word for "ninja" inked on her, but that one she made you work for. Yeah, Ionia was alright in her book. Their grilled meats, their religious trinkets, their coy women, she had a taste for whatever meager imports made it her way.

But their weapons. Oh baby.

She had a replica of one of their slender, curved blades hung over her bed. She didn't use it or think about it much, but it seemed like the coolest place to put it.

She certainly wasn't thinking about it when she had Riven pinned against her bedroom door, leaning over her with a vampiric hold on her throat and a knee riding the skirt up between her thighs. It lasted all of twenty euphoric seconds.

"Is that real?"

Riven's voice was a cold abyss that sucked every shred of heat from the room. Vi lifted her head, suddenly fumbling with her hands (they seemed suddenly too big and she didn't know what to do with them but they needed to get off Riven now and no not like that), wondering what the fuck just changed.

The dark tremor in Riven's stare tipped her off enough to turn, to seek out this unexpected offense. She couldn't see much – is what real? The desk? The, the window? – that might have provoked such a response.

Until she saw the sword.

"Oh, that?" She jerked a thumb at it, and then, at Riven's curt nod, tramped over to lift it off the wobbly hooks. Presenting it for Riven's review, she shrugged, trying to pretend like going 100 to 0 was something that happened to her all the time and was no big deal. "Pawn shop junk. Thought it was, I don't know, cool."

Red eyes flashed up for the briefest of seconds, Riven's lips pulling into a snide smile. The one-two punch of it took Vi's gut out. Ok. So. Twenty seconds against a door was all she was going to get tonight.

She sat on the bed, frowning up at Riven, who had slipped the blade a few inches from the lacquered sheath.

Unimpressed, Riven snapped it in and tossed it back to Vi with a casual flick of her wrist. Then, to Vi's surprise, she crossed to Vi's side and flopped down on the bed.

"I had a . . . comrade," Riven started, staring up at the stained ceiling and seeing it not at all. Vi swallowed and waited, twisting the toy between her hands.

The tiniest of smiles shot across Riven's face as she delved into her past. "A real mistake of a human being. 'Flapper,' we called him. Loudest fucking scout you've ever seen in your life. Miracle he made it into our company, but, you know, these things happen."

Vi nodded, not knowing at all.

"Had this pet monkey," Riven went on, turning her head on instinct to Vi to gauge this revelation. "Smelly bastard – the monkey. Flapper just comes back from scouting with it one day, so of course we ask him what the fuck? He says he just pulled it out of a tree and took it with him. No reason at all, just –" And she actually laughed, reaching up into the air for an imaginary monkey.

"Just pulled it right out of this fucking banana tree or whatever they have over there, and put it under his arm and kept on marching."

Vi risked a grin, but it paid off as Riven met her eyes and the look wasn't as distant as she feared it would be. Riven was spread out on her bed, after all, maybe the night could still be salvaged.

"So Flapper, he scouts ahead for ambushes. That's his one job. Piss-poor scout to begin with, though, right? And now he's got this monkey with him, just crawling all over him and howling and throwing shit, it's really a disgrace. But Flapper loves this monkey, and, well, what can you do.

"Give him a week or two, and now he's got the monkey scouting, bringing him back bananas and shit as we go. It's a riot. Flapper and the monkey'll go ahead, and he'll come back with bananas hanging out of his pockets. We go, 'Hey Flapper, how's the stretch ahead look?' and he goes, and he goes –"

Laughter threatened to overcome her, and she paused to choke it back. She mostly succeeded.

"'Guys,' he goes, 'guys it's fucking bananas out there!'"

And she laughed, laughed like she hadn't in a long time, an arm thrown over her eyes. Her free hand snaked over towards Vi, who gladly tossed the cheap sword aside to accept this offering. When the humor ran out, Riven breathed a deep sigh.

"One day he gets ambushed. We all knew it would happen, but, you know, we never believed it. So suddenly he's just gone." Riven let her arm flop to the side, turning again to make eye contact with Vi. This time a grim light flared in them. Vi shivered.

Riven's voice dropped to a low whisper when she continued. "And it's just the monkey that crawls into the camp. He's carrying this sack. We know what it is, but . . . I've gotta check. I've gotta make sure."

The hand in Vi's slipped free, waving carelessly at the last place Riven saw the sword. She doesn't drop Vi's gaze. "They beheaded him, of course."

Eventually Vi looked away. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling a guilt she couldn't quite find a place for.

But Riven sought her hand again, brought the rough knuckles to her lips. "Why?"

"I don't know." Vi shook her head, falling back to join Riven on the bed. Glancing over, she saw that the steely edge had disappeared from Riven's demeanor. But she wasn't sure if she could go through with it. Maybe not tonight.

Riven seemed to understand, wrapping her hand in Vi's and holding it heavy on her stomach. Looking up at the ceiling and not quite seeing it, Riven made a sound half-sigh and half-laugh. "That's war, though, isn't it? But thanks anyway."

Vi just closed her eyes.

She didn't know a damn thing about war.