Chapter Text
"You don't actually have any idea where we're going, do you?"
Halfway up a grand cedar was perhaps not the best time or place to be asking this question, but it was when it occurred to Riven, and she doubted Ahri was about to stop and present a good opportunity any time soon. In response, Ahri hoisted herself onto a branch, whirling around to sit on it and grin down at Riven, kicking her feet idly. "We are here, together," she cooed with satisfaction, and Riven laughed and shook her head.
"You said you had somewhere you wanted to take me!" Ahri's grin just widened, and she darted upwards, all at once resuming her climb. Riven hesitated, taking a brief rest, as much as you could rest while clinging to the stone-textured bark of the elder tree; she glanced over her shoulder at the setting sun, a sight that might have been beautiful to some - but for Riven was only flat, cold... sterile, lifeless. An expanse of white, with a beam of orange and pink smothering itself upon it. This was the view Ahri wanted to her see, almost certainly. Riven dreaded it.
"I did say that," Ahri agreed, calling out so she could be heard from far above now; Riven shook her head again, and pulled herself upward, loathe to be left behind. Ahri said no more, and vanished into the canopy. Moments later, though, Riven burst through behind her, and sure enough they had breached the upper layer of the forest, where Ahri sat on the last sturdy-looking branch to be found, waiting eagerly for Riven to join her. She coaxed her arms into just a few more pulls, before finally slumping beside the girl, letting out a long sigh and closing her eyes. She felt a delicate touch on her exposed thigh, and as soon as she registered it, warmth suddenly surrounded her, all at once - Ahri had done this a few times before by now, but it still shocked her each time, with how suddenly the spirit fire just wrapped around her, driving away the vestigial winter's chill.
"Thank you," she sighed. Her instinct was to shy away, but the consequence of that was a distraught and hurt Ahri, which was not what Riven wanted at all. So she just welcomed it, letting her breath draw out a bit and stretching her back. She heard Ahri hum with satisfaction beside her. After a moment more, she opened her eyes again, slowly.
Before her stretched a field of trees, of cold gray limbs laced with lingering snow; each branch caught a piece of the waning sunlight, reflecting it at an odd angle, drawing out the sun's mirror image like ripples in a lake, but frozen in place. She blinked at it, taking in a sight she had not seen before, a sight she had not expected: the lifeless sky she had dreaded above, and the same sky replicated in the forest, as though in stained and broken glass.
"It's..." Beautiful? Ahri turned beside her, and she felt the girl's eager smile. Always so radiant, this one. Everything seemed to make her happy. Even being sad seemed to ultimately bring joy to her. Riven wished to be so innocent.
"It's so striking, isn't it," Ahri whispered reverently. "I wonder if anyone has painted this." Riven found herself wondering, too. It was a very Ionian thing to want to paint: symbolic in some abstract way, but natural and peaceful, even as it evoked... not so peaceful emotions.
"It would make a good painting," Riven replied softly. Again, she heard Ahri hum with satisfaction. Behind them, the girl's tails waved about gently in a silent breeze. Riven's eyelids were a bit heavy, and she let them slip closed again, though the sunset dimly pulsed behind them.
"Riven?"
"Mmhmm?" She didn't move.
"What sort of human do you see me as?"
Riven's brow creased, as she parsed the question. This was a rather dangerous one, wasn't it? Ahri was certainly sensitive about the way other people perceived her, especially when it came to "what kind of human" she was (what an odd and specific phrasing). She hoped that nothing had happened to upset Ahri, but decided against asking after it right away. If Ahri wanted to talk about it, she would. "Well," Riven said slowly, remembering the sight of Ahri dancing out of reach in the first moments of the March, the earnest movements of her tails and ears as she alternated between indignant, firm, and defeated during their walk in the canyon the first night, the fright but determination of their second night... "You come across as..." She was struck very suddenly by an image of Ahri's face very close, nothing about her shoulders, laughing. "Very youthful," Riven managed to cough, feeling heat rush into her cheeks. "Very youthful and energetic. You're - playful, but..."
Then, an image of Ahri sitting here, watching the sunset, thinking to herself: It's so striking, isn't it? I have to show Riven!
"But thoughtful," Riven finished, "and sincere."
She heard Ahri doing her little purring-growling thing, and looked over at her with a little smile; Ahri was not watching her, and instead was watching the sunset, but the wide smile on her face was telling enough. As silently as she could, Riven sighed with relief. Minefield now navigated, she lidded her eyes, a moment of mischief seizing her. "What about me?"
Ahri's ears perked up and she jumped, looking over at Riven with alarm. Slowly she relaxed, looking down through Riven's feet, her eyes unfocusing and her smile fading into a taut, pensive glower. "Well," she said softly, drawing the sound out as she mused. "You seem... very lonely. It always feels like something is on your mind. But you're sweet, and a little playful, in your own way."
Riven supposed this was as apt - and as flattering - a description she could have ever hoped for. She was most definitely lonely, and there was generally always something on her mind. There was no point in bringing either of those things up unless she really intended to discuss them, which - to no one's surprise - she did not. So she snorted derisively, in response to the remaining descriptors. "You know, when I was younger, that might come across as an insult - being called 'sweet' and 'playful'."
"When you were younger?" Ahri looked up again, wrinkling her nose. "You were a strange child, then." Riven raised an eyebrow at her, and she laughed, covering her mouth delicately and scrunching her eyes closed - the sight of it made Riven chuckle a little, too. "But then, so was I," she added, apologetically.
"You were a fox," Riven said pointedly.
"Even by fox standards I was strange," Ahri chuckled. "What sort of Ionian wood-fox is so fixated on staying near human lands? They provide food sometimes, yes, but mostly they just trample your grounds and obscure your scents and chase away your prey, when they aren't hunting. They're such graceless, careless things, humans." Riven laughed, and Ahri grinned; all at once Ahri swung her leg over Riven's and put herself in Riven's lap; Riven flinched, thoroughly caught off guard, and before she could sway backwards she grabbed Ahri's hips, steadying herself. Ahri's tails waved gently behind her, while Ahri sat back on Riven's knees and smiled, now more softly and suggestively. "But," she continued, her voice now low, "I adored humans. They seemed to be so busy, and their lives seemed so rich. I longed to escape the dreary day-to-day survival, and learn what was so worth living for."
"And what did you learn?" Riven almost fumbled through this reply. A very attractive woman had just planted herself in Riven's lap, and Riven was now precariously trying to balance them both on a tree branch some forty or fifty feet off the ground. It would be fair to say she was a bit distracted.
"It varies from human to human," Ahri cooed, shrugging and closing her eyes. "For each, there is something else that draws them, and many of them don't know what it is yet, but forge on, in their lifelong quest to find it." She grinned, and opened her eyes again, though they were still muted and gentle as they searched Riven's. She was excitable, and could get carried away sometimes, but she seemed almost uncomfortably aware of Riven's... trauma, sometimes. "I think that's beautiful. Don't you?"
Riven didn't know what to say. She pursed her lips.
"Some humans find their calling," Ahri continued. "And they pursue it to the ends of the earth. I think that might be the most inspiring thing, dedicating your life to something greater than just one person. Humans can accomplish such amazing things together."
"We can also accomplish horrible things," Riven murmured. Now not only was she trying to soothe adrenaline and maintain stability, she was also trying to keep her thoughts from darkening any further. Ahri leaned forward delicately and kissed her lips - keenly aware of what was on Riven's mind - and Riven closed her eyes and gently kissed back, as much out of a desire not to upset their balance as anything else. But she allowed Ahri to comfort her, nonetheless.
"Yes," Ahri agreed, as she withdrew, inches from Riven's face. "But still amazing."
Riven nodded, and took a deep breath. "Are we going to climb down from here, or were you going to test my acrobatic skills further?"
"Scared you'll fall?" Ahri's smile grew impish. "Don't you trust me?"
A chill ran down Riven's spine, and she couldn't help but laugh as it subsided. "You know, you don't have to one-up yourself every time," she chided. "I'd be alright with just normal sex in a bed for once."
"We did that last night." Ahri leaned in to nuzzle her. "And I very much enjoyed it. But what's life without adventure? How are you going to stand on your own again if we don't drop you a couple of times to make sure you get up?"
Riven pouted. "I think there's an important difference between stumbling a little and falling fifty feet down the side of a tree."
"Semantics. Are you going to make me charm you again?"
"Really, you're serious about this? Up here?"
"I am if you are." Ahri wiggled her hips, pressing her knees onto the branch and starting to shift her weight; by some sylvan weightlessness, their perch seemed entirely unaffected. "C'mon. Let's have a little adventure."
Riven stiffened as Ahri continued to move around her, very carefully leaning back - finding a branch behind her that caught her back and held her up, and Ahri placed her hands on it, over Riven's shoulders, looming above her now in shadow. Ahri's tails waved back and forth rapidly and as one unit now, snapping to and fro with clear excitement. Ahri herself leaned down to Riven's lips again, then trailed kisses down her cheek and neck. They were soft and slow, but to Riven, they felt timid rather than soothing. She leaned her head away briefly to allow Ahri room, but then nuzzled back down, and Ahri lifted up with an apprehensive look. But Riven studied the rest of her.
Of course, Ahri, the fox that wanted to be human, was blessed with the most beautiful human body Riven had ever seen. Even through her robes and wrappings it left little to the imagination - her slender waist and athletic hips belied her generous bosom, the image of sex appeal that any young woman anywhere would envy. It wasn't fair, honestly, but she thought this with a little laugh in her heart. At least she got to enjoy Ahri's body up close like this for herself. But it was a prize she didn't really deserve - she internally snarled, trying to shake that thought away as soon as it came; she had been around that particular tree hundreds of times over the last few years, the self-defeatism, the pointless anguish. It wouldn't help her. It was the weakness, clinging to her limbs and weighing her down. But it persisted. As Ahri's smile turned a bit hungry, as her eyes began to gleam, they told Riven she didn't deserve to enjoy this. But Ahri deserved to torture her.
Suddenly, Riven felt a cold sweat breaking, and her heartrate surged not with excitement but anxiety. She wanted to squirm and thrash away - not to escape, but just to take control - but as she started to flex her shoulders the branches around her shook threateningly, and she nearly lost balance, panicking and freezing up. Ahri giggled above her, a leery, domineering edge in her voice. "You can't escape me like this," she hissed. "Exciting, isn't it?"
Riven wanted to speak - more like scream - but her throat closed when she tried. Ahri leaned into her neck again, oblivious, resting her teeth there; the instincts to both stay still and to desperately escape pulled at her mind, strained further by the spike of pleasure Ahri's little love-bites brought her (that was still a very sensitive area!). She couldn't move, she couldn't move, the panic was building - "Ahri, stop," she gasped, sharply.
All at once, Ahri pulled up, entirely untroubled by the problem of balance, and again the tree seemed not to care for her weight. Her perplexed expression quickly grew to one of total horror. "What's wrong?!" she cried. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Riven sighed, closing her eyes and trying to sigh out with relief, to relax herself, but her breath shook and her heart pounded. She was still very trapped, and she still didn't deserve Ahri. "W-We need to get down from here." She gulped, recoiling at the break in her own voice. Weak, Riven. Weak. Weak...
"Okay," Ahri murmured, the crushing disappointment in her voice entirely too clear. Maybe she had been really excited about the tree play, or maybe she just felt like she'd hurt Riven's feelings somehow, or maybe she was upset to be turned down at all, or maybe it was just all of those things. Either way, Riven crumpled at the sound of it. Weak. Weak. You're a weak girlfriend. You're a weak lover. You can't even handle a little loss of control. (It wasn't a little, Riven tried to say to herself, but it didn't really help.) The fox helped Riven sit upright again, and in a solemn silence, they climbed back down.
When they reached the roots, Ahri was hugging herself and looking away, and Riven was shivering - without direct contact to Ahri, the winter chill could reach her again, its gnawing grabby little claws nipping at her exposed skin, even through her ki. It was only a mild inconvenience; even though the winter storms had let up after the March, they were kicking up again now, and the Institute's barrier could only hold back so much. But more pressing to her than the cold was the sight of Ahri, who didn't meet her gaze, her tails downcast and ears flattened. Weak, she sighed to herself. But she couldn't let the weakness linger. She had to do something, any small thing, to fix it.
This had happened once before. And then, Ahri had... gone off. So certain that she had wronged Riven, she apologized and worked herself up to tears, while Riven helplessly tried to calm her down. She'd done her best, but she couldn't solve the problems her damaged soul caused. She feared that maybe this was just going to be a constant for her, an unescapable fate for their relationship, that she would... ruin things. Vainly, she tried to promise herself that it would be okay, that Ahri accepted imperfection, but all she could hear in her heart was weak. She didn't want to be like this, whether Ahri accepted it or not. Ahri deserved better. Much better. Ahri deserved that sweet fairy-tale love you hear about in childhood stories, of heroes that conquer side-by-side with their love, that requite with a kiss over a battlefield, that survive mortal wounds to return to their lover's side. Damaged, weak Riven wasn't going to give that to her.
She steeled herself, gritting her teeth and balling her fists. But damned if I won't try!
"Ahri," she said, firmly. Ahri's ears perked up faintly, and she turned around, looking sullenly at Riven, as if fearful of reprimand, but Riven was already walking towards her in cold, stomping steps; the fox gasped and jumped, startled, but not far enough away. She grabbed Ahri's shoulders, and as Ahri opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, she lunged and kissed her, backing them into the massive trunk of the tree they'd just dropped from; Ahri squeaked, then groaned, wrapping herself tightly around Riven, and they were wrapped in her ethereal warmth again; the inadequacy was far away, repelled by Ahri's aura, and Riven felt safe again. She never wanted to leave.
"Hi," Ahri said softly, as they broke apart. She hazarded a soft smile, cocking her head slightly, and Riven smiled back, relieved to have mended the mood a little. "Feeling a little better?"
"Just... up there wasn't... good for me," Riven murmured, guiltily. She didn't want to explain why, and thankfully, Ahri didn't ask; she just nodded.
"You should have said something," she sighed.
"I didn't know. I wanted - I wanted to try."
Ahri nodded slowly, closing her eyes, and resting her forehead on Riven's. "I'm sorry."
No, you idiot, Riven wanted to shout. "You didn't do anything wrong," she mumbled instead. "I should be apologizing to you."
But Ahri shook her head. "Let's... go inside, if you'd rather. I'm okay with that. Do you just want to sleep?"
"We can play when we get back to my room," Riven promised, trying to sound cheerful; Ahri seemed to gravitate to positive emotions more easily than negative ones, so all she had to do was act happy, and Ahri would build on that. "Okay? I'll tell you another story. Maybe one of my favorite ones."
Ahri smiled a little bitterly. "Yeah, alright," she sighed. Riven withered a little, but still dutifully took Ahri's hand and began to walk back with her. She glanced over, and saw Ahri's ears still half at attention, but her eyes downcast. She squeezed Ahri's hand, and the girl looked up, blinking curiously, and Riven smiled. Ahri smiled back, but looked down again. So, Riven started to swing their arms gently. She saw Ahri's smile returning, faint on her face. She started to stutter her steps - almost... ALMOST... gods, if Darius caught her she would die of shame, but she was trying to skip. Ahri looked down at her feet with a bemused expression, then up at Riven, who stopped and looked away, blushing furiously, muttering savagely to herself. But she heard Ahri laugh, and Ahri pranced ahead, skipping sweetly in place in front of her. "Skip with me?" she offered, hopefully, grinning. Riven couldn't resist her smile; she rolled her eyes, and followed her lead. Within moments, they were sprinting, lost in their own little competition once more.
"Tell me about this one."
Riven had almost forgotten her promise. Not that she minded telling Ahri stories - her wide-eyed fascination with Noxian heroes was adorable, and even though it hadn't been the same since the war, Riven still loved the history of her old home. She craned her head to watch Ahri crawl across the bed, only barely pulling herself from their naked tangle on Riven's bed, grasping an unfinished wooden figure that rested on Riven's nightstand. She hadn't worked on it since the March, but as Ahri handed it to her, she also handed Riven her knife, and smiled expectantly as Riven propped herself up on the headboard with a groan. She held the figure upside down, and delicately flicked the blade upwards across what would be its legs, and the handle of its axe.
"Sion, the Kingslayer," Riven whispered, reverently. Ahri cuddled closer, and Riven smiled. She couldn't imagine going to sleep alone anymore, not since Ahri's insistence to stay the first night. Her days and nights were both so full, now, devoid of the long silences that made Riven's past feel so near. She felt so full of... right now.
"He slayed a king, huh," Ahri breathed. "A Demacian king?"
"Yes," Riven confirmed. "Centuries ago, he was a General of High Command, under the last Grand General, Boram Darkwill." Ahri nodded fervently at his name. She knew of him, his unnaturally long reign, the way it declined into political paranoia and martial complacency. "He was a glorious man, and in his time, Demacian soldiers pushed to the capital city, with an army that they say outnumbered ours ten to one." Ahri silently mouthed her awe, and Riven smiled down at her, turning the little figure in her hands to better sculpt what would become his axe. Her shapings were still crude, but they were enough that Riven recognized them, and that was good enough for her. "The Noxian army was set to force a siege, to force the Demacians to fight for every inch of Noxian soil. But Sion refused to languish behind the capital walls. He led those loyal to him through a massacre in the field, charging straight for their king, who waited behind his vanguard to watch Noxus' defeat. He slew every one of his guard, then with all of his wounds he still battled King Jarvan to a stalemate, and with the very last of his strength he crushed the conceited king's throat."
"He died there?" Ahri gasped. "The last of his strength?"
"Yes," Riven agreed, her eyes dimming a little, as her focus wavered and she imagined what it must have been like to witness his final triumph. "To a Noxian, such a death is the highest glory possible. He is a hero, and we don't remember him because he won a battle - we remember him because he died so gloriously that the world shook at his passing."
There was a thoughtful pause. "Do you not value his life?" Ahri asked, carefully. Riven couldn't help but smile. What a fascinatingly Ionian question. And yet, one that she understood completely. She knew now the value of life... better maybe than any Noxian did.
"Noxus remembers his life by its finest hour," Riven said calmly. "Against impossible odds, he demonstrated that Noxus will not cow, and we will not be disrespected. He knew his own strength exactly - with every ounce of it, he could march out there and destroy Demacia's King. He could turn the tide of the war that might have ended our history, and he did so. To someone like you, it cost him everything, but to him, it was the only thing worth living his life for."
"Is that what you want?" Riven could hear Ahri trying not to sound agitated. "To die gloriously?"
"It would certainly be better than dying pathetically," Riven observed mildly, lowering her hands to focus on Ahri; the girl's tails swished nervously. "But to me, I think Sion didn't just go out there because he thought dying was all he was good for. He went out there because he wanted to fight, and he wanted to fight on his terms, in a way that he could be proud of." Ahri's eyes narrowed, and her tails swished again. Riven considered new wording: "I think he would have been too ashamed to accept defeat, or even victory, by hiding."
"That sounds overwhelmingly stupid," Ahri snapped. "To be frank," she added hurriedly. "I-I - I know it's a different culture, but - "
But Riven was laughing. "Yes, we are very stupid at times," she agreed, leaning back and shaking her head. "I can't explain it, Ahri. I've seen a different world now, and nothing is the same for me. But for him, I just... I don't think he saw it as a sacrifice, I think he saw it as a way out. Think of it like this - suppose you had to die tomorrow, but you could live a full life if you returned to being a fox."
"Never!" Ahri cried, pushing herself upright. "I would die!"
"Yes, you would," Riven agreed, satisfied. "To him, it was the same choice. Live through cowardice, or die, and live his life the way he wanted until the very last moment. And in so doing, he changed the world, and inspired generations of Noxians to be so bold and so powerful. I think that's really what makes it so powerful to me... the way he lived his life to inspire others, even if it meant the end of him."
There was another long, thoughtful pause, as Ahri bit her lip, watching Riven's eyes closely. Riven fidgeted with her whittling knife, out of view. Gods, her golden eyes were so beautiful, like the most haunting of harvest moons, beaming down on a windswept field. Never would Riven forget the sight. She loved the way they illuminated the darkness, gleaming. It made Ahri seem powerful and primal, and that made Riven feel... safe.
"Would you make the same choice?" Ahri asked softly, after a few moments. "What if... you could reclaim your glory, and atone for all that Noxus had done in Ionia, but to do so, you had to die?"
And, all at once, the feeling was gone - the room's darkness collapsed and Riven closed her eyes to avoid it. "You know the answer to that," she hissed, heat building in her chest, tensing her shoulders. "You're the only reason I didn't."
There was a tense pause; Riven breathed more deeply, scolding herself for snapping. "It was a very stupid question," Ahri murmured, at length. "I... I should not have asked. Of course you would."
Riven didn't know what to say to that. She opened her eyes again, apprehensive, but Ahri had also cast her gaze away, and was again chewing her lip, her ears flattened.
"But, Riven, the thing is," she said, very slowly and carefully; she looked back up, those beautiful golden eyes now soft and deep with concern, with an intense emotional humanity Riven had barely begun to know. "I don't believe in that... that choice. I believe there is always another way."
Riven's brow furrowed. "If your human body was dying, and you could only save yourself by --"
"Maybe there is a cure I could find," Ahri said, firmly. "And if not, then maybe I will only bide my time until I may return to my human form. I will not give up. I will not accept an ultimatum, and surrender control of my fate. Only animals do that. Humans - humans forge on, humans bend the world to their will, and that is why they are so great and powerful, and the ones that give up do nothing, and mean nothing, and I will not lower myself to that."
Riven stared at her, in shock. On one hand, what she was saying, implying, about Sion and his legend was... that he had given up, and Riven supposed that she had framed it that way. But on the other, Ahri was not talking about Sion, she was talking about... herself, but surely, she meant to be talking about Riven. And for just a moment, she might have mistaken Ahri's words for those of a commander she would long to follow.
We bend the world to our will. We will not give up. We will not accept an ultimatum.
"Please believe in yourself, Riven," Ahri whispered. "I know there is another path for you. For all of us. We need only find it."
Riven smiled. Only one response came to her mind, but she decided it was not a good idea to say it. So she pulled Ahri forward into her embrace; Ahri settled into it, holding Riven tightly, resting on her shoulder and closing her eyes. "Please sleep soundly," the girl murmured. Within moments, she was asleep.
But Riven didn't sleep so easily, even with Ahri around. She worked briefly, and very slowly, on her figure of Sion, but soon set it and her knife back on the nightstand Ahri had retrieved them from, and closed her eyes - but laid awake, full of thought and memory and wonder. What a strange world this would be, she kept thinking, had Ahri been given a Noxian's body, instead of an Ionian's. If she had allied herself with the Noxians, proven herself in battle, and been swept to the capital in the interest of honing her strength and learning the secrets of her origin and her power. What a different creature she would have been. And yet... still, like this, she sounded Noxian in some pure way that Riven... preferred.
This was not the first time Riven had thought that, of course, but it was perhaps one of the more striking examples. The philosophical resemblence was something that Riven came back to again and again, not just because of her own personal philosophy... troubles, but also because spending time with Ahri was a decidedly un-Noxian activity. What would Darius, or Katarina, or Leblanc, have thought of what they'd done today? They ran around, playing tag, and Ahri taught Riven how to run between branches in the trees. They climbed a grand cedar, played in its boughs, then skipped and sprinted home. What were they, children!? Yet Ahri's simple, joyous laughter lifted Riven's spirits like nothing ever had, the way she smiled, the way she taunted and played and bantered... she was rapidly growing addicted to the simple pleasure of prancing and playing like a woodland spirit. A part of her feared for her soul. Not that Ahri would consume it, but more that it would just... lose its focus, and she would become nothing.
Would that be so bad? She shifted uncomfortably. To forget everything, and accept Ahri's love, to accept... mediocrity, normalcy, to fade into nothing... She shuddered. The only thing more abhorrent than that idea was the fact that she was seriously considering it. The alternative was... so much more daunting, to face herself and her failure, forever. But...
But her choice seemed to be... to give up her spirit, her ideals, and live carefree in Ahri's embrace - for the Noxian in her to 'die'... or to charge into the terror, and overcome herself. The choice should be clear. It should be simple! And yet, she had failed, again and again. Every day that she had risen, alone, and done nothing, brooding and wishing for an end to her suffering, limply wandering from place to place in search of meaning that she knew was dead and rotted away... the choice seemed to be between giving up now, or allowing her hope to bleed away entirely first. Die now, or die later. Either way, she failed. She was weak.
I will not give up. I will not accept an ultimatum.
Ahri's words brought her a smile. How fortunate was Riven, to have such a beautiful, wise, wonderful creature so close. She looked down at Ahri, whose eyes were closed - but a bit tightly, clenched. Her ear twitched, and as Riven shifted, she clutched at the exile more tightly, with a faint whimper. Even you have nightmares, she thought with wonder. What was Ahri dreaming about? She hoped that it wasn't about her... but at the same time, she relished the idea that someone so powerful cared about her so much as to fear. Ahri had few things in life to be truly afraid of, after all...
She laid herself down, and Ahri's tails curled protectively around them both, as they always did - and as she had learned to do, Riven cautiously pulled the covers up to Ahri's waist. The fox let out a soft coo of gratitude and shifted, her sleep deepening, and her eyes relaxing. "Good night, divine beauty," Riven murmured, kissing the top of her head.
"Nini," Ahri mumbled.