Riven's fire crackled as the sole source of light in that dark forest, coloring the leaves, twigs and treebarks orange and yellow. The exile leaned back and enjoyed the warmth, meager as it was. After all, no matter how small the flame, given enough time a fish will surely cook over it.

The problem, right now as always, was that she had more than just a fish. But the sound of leaves being crushed in a familiar rhythm eased her concern. She could almost hear his gait, relaxed and easy, yet confident, approaching this unknown brightness without even the slightest hint of worry. But it wasn't exactly unknown to him, and neither was he to her.

And sure enough, Ezreal stepped into view to witness an abundance of fish. He raised an eyebrow. "Were you expecting me?"

"No, just knew I could count on you," Riven said, with nonchalance that would be unknown to her just a year ago.

"That's the exact same thing," Ezreal sat down opposite her, not quite complaining. "So. Let's see here. I see fish, fish, fish and fish. Gah, you need to balance your diet."

"You saying I'm getting fat?"

"Riv, your abdominal muscles are as shapely as always, but eating too much fish will slow down your blood clotting, thus making you more likely to bleed to death. I saw it happen once, in the north. One native cut his arm on a trap deep below. Died three days later," Ezreal stared into the fire.

Riven knew that look. It was the look he had when he discussed grave matters, when he told grim stories of death and decay, when he acknowledged that the world is callous and cruel and does not care about the fates of its inhabitants. "Lux bothering you?" she asked, picking at a dry leaf. "Or are you bothering her?"

Ezreal should be horrified that Riven of all people was able to guess this, but then those years spent together in a baptism of fire surely had left their mark. So he didn't ask, "Was it that obvious?" Instead he murmured, "Dozens of labyrinths and traps I have survived, and still I find no mystery more befuddling than a woman's heart."

"It's not mysterious at all, Ez. Stab it and she dies," Riven studied the fishes. They should be done soon.

Ezreal suffered her smartassery, for it was he who taught her that forbidden art. He continued, "She said that she never felt I was there."

"She has a point. When you're not risking life and limb in some dark sewer tunnel, you come to me for dinner."

"It's not what she said, it's more like how she said it," Ezreal ignored her. "She sounded so angry, as if I never told her this would happen. I warned her from the beginning: I can't always be there for you. And then she goes on complaining about exactly that."

Riven shrugged. "She expected better of you. Have some," she offered him a fish.

If words had an index of stinging efficiency, Riven's would be up there with the bullet ants in the Kalamanda ruins. Ezreal took the food from her nevertheless.

"You'd expect, after going through all that, things would be easier," he said in contemplation, halfway through his second fish.

By 'that', of course, he was referring to that period of time which they agreed to never discuss again. And like many things that tried to tell Ezreal not to do something, the agreement rarely worked.

"It never does, huh," Riven said in earnest.

"Was it this hard when you were with Joshua?" he asked her, and Riven could tell how he wanted her to say yes. Then he can believe that it will all work out in the end.

She chuckled and said, "We had our moments."

They let the silence in, and ate in the comfort of each others' presence. Then Ezreal broke it by saying, "I just realized how much I want to make this...work. You know. Take off. Bloom. Or whatever it is that normal relationships do."

Riven chewed thoughtfully. "It will, in the end. Relax, I'll help you."

"And what if it's really a lost cause?" the prodigal explorer asked.

At that moment Riven was reminded that she was one of his closest friends, one of the select few people whom he showed this utterly human side of him. Then in a snide comment that more or less sealed their fates, she threw him a smile and offered, "We still have each other."

Ezreal grinned in a way that was quite bitter and yet cheerful.

Neither he nor Riven has any idea just how true that statement is going to be.