AN: Hi. This is a Riven x Ahri story. I was surprised on how lengthy this turned out to be, so I decided to split this into two parts. Considering it does have Ahri in it, expect to rating of this story to go up in the future. It's been a long while since I've written anything...sexual, so bear with me please. Hopefully the update won't take too long.

Hope you enjoy.

Ciao. c:

Never in a million years would Riven imagine she would be back here.

Back in the place where she witnessed the slaughter of many innocents.

Back in Ionia, where she had been a field commander serving Noxus.

Back when the large scar covering her back did not exist.

But here she was, standing in a lush green field overlooking the Ionian capital. The city was bustling with activity, the noises and smells riding the wind towards her direction. Riven inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of native delicacies and a tinge of incense. The breeze galloped beyond and rustled the forest behind her. The branches swayed and touched, whispering to one another. The grass followed suit, dancing. Even the tattered remains of her hooded cloak moved.

Yet, Riven stayed still.

"So long I have wandered," Riven mumbled, her piercing red eyes trailing to the outskirts of the city. There, a magnificent grotto filled with lotus trees swayed in the wind. From her position, Riven could hear the faint trickle of a river. Compelled by the beauty of nature, she finally moved from her spot.

With every step, Riven remembered every part of her journey thus far. She had traveled far and wide, visiting almost all the major areas of Valoran. After her self-proclaimed exile, she had sought help from Ionians that offered their medicinal services to those who suffered from the Noxian invasion. The Ionians had treated her carefully and professionally. Eventually the searing burn that branded her back like a bull simmered down to an uncomfortable prickle, and Riven had taken her leave under the blanket of night. From there, she had snuck onto boat that took her to a harbor nearby Noxus, where she said her final farewells to the ties that held her to a nation she no longer wanted to serve.

She had shattered her sword and threw everything but the hilt into the ocean, watching as the runic, green glow of her past sank into the seafloor. After the waters had returned from an ominous green to a murky blue, Riven finally moved.

With every step she took, she found her undying resolve, a burning desire, to reform Noxus into what she believed: a place where true strength, the strength of one's will and conviction, rose above all and underhanded tactics were abolished.

The days of her exile passed by, which eventually formed into weeks. Those weeks grew and evolved into months. As time passed, Riven found herself in all sorts of places. She visited the ruins of a building that was once known as the Institute of War; she watched the sun rise above Mount Targon, home to the Rakkor and Solari; foolishly entered Demacia under the guise as a traveler; eventually sailed to the filthy docks of Bilgewater; then, at last, boarded a ship that unexpectedly took her to Ionia.

Her thoughts came to a close as Riven stopped moving once more.

The rumors she heard about The Lotus Garden never brought it justice.

The air was filled with a sweet scent, one that brought a strange scent of ease through her. For once, in her long, long journey, Riven allowed her body to relax to an extent. There she stayed, unmoving, relishing Ionia's beauty. Finally getting out of her trance, she hid her broken blade beneath her cloak. Anyone would recognize her if she carried the hilt of a Noxian buster sword; the size of it was far bigger compared to the skinny blades of the Ionians. Once it was out of sight, Riven entered the Garden.

Immediately she was entranced by the beauty surrounding her. Petals scattered all around her, enveloping her in a sweet scent. Her footsteps were muffled by the foliage decorating the ground. Shades of pink and white covered her vision, yet she felt awakened.

No wonder many with clouded hearts come here for sanctum.

Two voices caught the Exile's attention, and Riven looked, noticing exotic clothing with shades of red and purple. Irelia, Captain of the Ionian Guard, and Karma, the Duchess herself, stood under a large lotus tree. They spoke in a tongue foreign to Riven, one she assumed to be the dialect used in this region, and walked on, seeing no reason to linger.

She wandered on for several more minutes, until she came across a pond. Its water was as blue as the sky, its surface reflecting the large tree above it. Riven looked down, startled to see her own image after such a long time. Her snow-white hair was tied back into her usual bun, bangs askew everywhere. Her red eyes held conviction and will, like the principles she valued, but she could not deny the weariness around the edges. Despite how many trials and obstacles she faced—as proven by the scuff marks on her cheeks—Riven knew that the vicissitudes of travel would eventually take their toll.

"How should I proceed?" She mumbled, watching her reflection become distorted as a lone petal rippled the image. Suddenly tempted to touch the water, Riven stooped down and cupped her hands together. She dipped them into the pond, cool water flowing in. In one fluid motion, she washed her face, body tensing on how cold the water truly was.

Nevertheless, it felt nice.

After drying her face with the ripped sleeve of her cloak, she sat down on the lush grass, legs crossed. Positive that no one was around her vicinity, she placed her broken blade across her lap. The runic green markings on her blade throbbed with light and sorcery, giving out a faint hum. Out of habit, she let a calloused finger run over the blade. The metal was smooth and cool, the luster allowing her to see a somewhat clear reflection of herself. The broken edges were jagged, sharp enough to draw blood just from a prickle. Despite its current state, she could still gauge how much time and effort was put into crafting the once immaculate sword. The best was suited only for the best, after all.

Riven sighed through her nose.

"No more hesitation," she reminded herself, taking in several breaths. Mediation was a habit that she picked up on during her time in Ionia. A blind monk had told her that meditation brought clarity when one had nowhere to go. It balanced the mind and heart, and reminded oneself of their goals, he said.

Although she perceived Ionia as weak, there were certain principles that she had taking a liking into.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took more deep breaths, allowing herself to relax. Her mind became a blank slate, and her thoughts wandered about like the hands traveling up her sides—

Wait, what?

Riven's hands flew to grab at her sides, finding slim wrists in her grasp. She locked them into an iron-grip.

"My, I never knew that a woman could have such a strong grip," an airy laugh rang in the air, one that caused shivers to scratch at Riven's back. The Noxian gritted her teeth. "But then again," she felt hot breaths buffet her ear, "you are a Noxian, no?"

Instincts kicked in. In a moment, Riven released her hands and gripped her broken blade instead. With lightning-fast reflexes toned from war, she turned around, reached out, and pushed the stranger onto their back. Riven's other hand found the stranger's neck, holding it against the green grass. The sharp edge of Riven's blade was poised in between the stranger's eyes.

Riven stayed still and said nothing. Now that she had a clear look, she could tell the stranger was a female and was rather...unique. The stranger had ears protruding on the top of her head that were the same color of her raven hair, one that shimmered even in the faintest of lights; almond-shaped eyes that were the color of autumn leaves were alluring and enticing, Riven had to admit; three lines on each cheek that resembled the whiskers of a fox; full, red-colored lips were pursed into a pout; and, of course, was her very voluptuous figure. Even with Riven's near death-grip on the stranger's neck, the Noxian could something soft pressing up against her body. It took incredible will not to look down.

"A little defensive, are we?" The woman choked out, voice strained as she struggled for air.

"Who are you?" Riven demanded, eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.

The woman beneath giggled despite her situation. "You mean to say you've never heard of me?"

"...What do you mean?"

Suddenly the stranger's pupils turned into slits. The marks on her cheeks became darker, much more defined. Before Riven could assess what was happening, she found herself being pulled back and pinned against the ground by some arcane force. Her sword slipped from her hand a skidded several feet away, just beyond her hand's reach. The woman climbed on top, an orb of blue energy swirling in her hand. A tail, then eight more, came up from behind her, swishing languidly in the air.

This was a complete turn around from before.

"Do you recognize me, now?" The woman asked, a smirk crossing her face. Riven returned the expression with a blank stare, but she knew.

She had heard rumors of certain creatures living in Ionia, ones transformed by the magic, called the Gumiho. They took the forms of humans, but had a certain hunger for humans' life essences. The methods used varied from one to the other, but the most common was seduction or slaughter. In this particular area, there were rumors about a certain Gumiho, one that preyed near The Lotus Garden to feast on those with clouded hearts and blind eyes. Riven paid those rumors no mind, however; she did not believe in those kinds of things.

Until now.

A finger traced over Riven's tense jawline, trailing down to trace abstract figures on her throat. The Noxian could not help the sudden rise of goosebumps littering her skin.

"I haven't gotten an answer from you yet, dear warrior," the woman beckoned in a saccharine voice, "I'm waaiiiitiiiing…." The drawled out vowels sent shivers down Riven's spine.

The Noxian stayed mute and nodded briskly.

"Oh my, so they talk about me around Valoran, do they?" A laugh, far more beautiful than any melody Riven had ever heard, sang through the air. "I'm sure they talk about you too, Noxian. You know," the fox-woman's eyes narrowed, "they talk about you throughout Ionia."

Guilt stabbed Riven in the chest.

She knew they did.

Who wouldn't, after what she had done?

"You're surprisingly mute, now." The Gumiho tilted her head to the side. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" A smirk crossed her face. "Or is it a fox?"

Riven felt the need to change the subject quickly. "You never answered my question."

The stranger's smirk disappeared into a confused pout. Her tails swished with intrigue.

"Who are you?"

"I'm known by many names, but the most common one is Ahri." The blue orb of energy dissipated into the air Ahri bent over to whisper into her ear. "I would ask who you are," The Noxian felt her body tighten as a pair of lips brushed her earlobe, "but many in this area know exactly who and what you are, Riven."

At the mention of her name, the white-haired warrior lashed upward, trying to fling Ahri off of her. However the bindings that held on to her wrist deterred her from doing so. The fox-woman laughed heartily at the attempt, sitting back up.

"It's been a long while since I've met someone so," Ahri licked her lips and bit her lower one, grinning a smile that screamed dirty thoughts, "frisky."

At this point, Riven was getting very irritated. The permanent frown that seemed to be on her face deepened into a furious scowl. Ahri clicked her tongue and traced the Noxian's lips with her thumb.

"A smile would look much better, don't you think?"

"What do you want from me?"

The Gumiho gave a "demure" smile. "Isn't it obvious, Riven dear?"

The Exile stayed quiet, but she knew what the other wanted from her. It was her soul—

"I want your company."

Riven had nothing to say. Those were certainly not the words that she expected to come out.

"What? You look surprised." Ahri tilted her head and then laughed. "It's been such a long time since I've had...strong prey." The ocher color of her eyes glimmered with mischief. "But I want this to last for quite a while." She bent over so their lips barely touched. Riven could feel the Gumiho's breath tickling her face. "Won't you indulge me, Riven dear?"

Riven stayed mute. Noxus had taught her to stay strong, even in the face of desires.

But admittedly, even she was swayed by such temptations.

"Stay," Ahri mumbled against her lips before closing the distance. The white-haired warrior was taken aback by action and shut her eyes, having nothing else to do; her hands were still bound together.

With each passing minute and kiss, Riven's resolve to stay obstinate melted away. Eventually she found herself returning each action with building fervor and passion. Ahri gave a noise, a cross between a growl and a hum, to signal her pleasure. Such actions reminded Riven of several nights she shared with a certain someone in Noxus.

Only then did she realize how much she missed sharing warmth with someone else.

Ahri ended the kiss, much to Riven's dismay, but quickly went to work on the Noxian's neck, nibbling and pecking here and there. The white-haired woman let a growl rip through.

Perhaps indulging Ahri for one night won't be so bad.