#doomed to speak at the funerals of young soldiers gone too soon

[sednonamoris]

is john price doomed? yes. but personally i think he’s doomed to survive.

[multishep]

devil at my back, angel on my right (Katariven - 1800)

Part 6 of The Returned

It wasn’t raining like it did the day they’d put her in the ground. She’d been there, too far for funeral goers to notice her presence as they honoured her memory, but close enough to see a certain red haired woman grieve. She’d been curious to see if her young and beautiful widow would shed tears for her, but the skies, curse its ever dramatic timing, had cried enough for all of Noxus before she was even six feet under. She liked to think that it was there though, somewhere amongst the rivulets of rain on the assassin’s inscrutable face.

She hadn't been buried in a commoner’s graveyard, nor did they lay her with the rest of her fallen soldiers in a war grave. Her wife had made it clear that it would be over her dead body if she were to be buried anywhere other than amongst the most prominent elites of Noxus. So there her cenotaph now stood, sharing the soil that entombed emperors and bluebloods in the Du Couteau family's corner of the necropolis.

Riven hadn't meant to stay for as long as she did—she hadn't planned on ever coming back—but she'd been drawn to Katarina's weakness, her pain, like a moth to a flame. Such a sight was a murderer grieving her death, and such a comfort it was to know that killers like them could love and be loved.

For nearly three days and two nights her widow had been as unmoving as the stone engraved with her name, age, and rank until her siblings finally came to drag her home. But she was back the next morning, another fresh rose in hand, another day of silently cursing Riven’s name for breaking her promise to return from the Ionian front.

"If you die, Riven, I swear I'll bring you back to life just to kill you again."

"I love you too, Kat."

Soon after, Katarina's daily visits slowed to a weekly effort. Then she only came at the start of every month. Eventually the four seasons passed, returned, then passed again, and the wind blew her crumbling roses away like dust.

Katarina never came to see her again.

Today the skies were clear, not a droplet around for her to hide her own tears behind as the plot next to hers was being excavated. The sun beat down, a very warm welcome for the newest inhabitant in their city of bones. They buried Katarina, per regulation, four feet away. It was four feet too far. The casket they lowered made Riven’s heart sink so low it crushed the butterflies in her stomach. Unlike her own stunted coffin containing her runic blade buried in her place, this one was large enough to hold a body.

What did they bury her with? Katarina owned many knives but treasured few. Did they know her favourite belt? Were her daggers holstered on the left, her throwing knives on the right and a little bit to the rear just the way she liked them?

Riven knew. Riven would’ve gotten it right.

It’d been over five years since her feet last touched the Empire's soil and here she was in the very heart of it. She’d been docked in Bilgewater replenishing supplies when the news finally reached that particular corner of the empire. Lady Du Couteau has fallen! Her stolen horse had made it halfway to Noxus before Captain Fortune even noticed she was gone.

Traditional funeral rites were done with added pomp and splendour, the kind of grandiosity one could reasonably point the finger at Cassiopeia for. Riven suspected the heavens didn’t ruin the ceremony with its lamenting showers simply because Cassiopeia had forbade it so. Cassiopeia and Talon stayed the longest, but eventually they left too. The living had things to do, after all, and Katarina wasn’t going anywhere.

She gave it another hour before she left her twice-proven hiding spot. It was caution, she reasoned, and not a crippling heartache that kept her from throwing herself before Katarina’s tombstone sooner. For every rose that had ever been placed on her grave, Katarina had ten. The dozen bottles that were poured in libation far outnumbered the single glass that had been offered to Riven. Her cenotaph stood at five feet tall, basic in shape, so Katarina’s stood at six, fully sculpted, her inscription a little bigger and a little longer. The true-to-size statue of the mighty assassin immortalized everything she emanated in life: her cold expression, proud stance, sharp attire.

“You never did like to be outdone, Kat,” Riven mumbled, cupping a hand to the face of the statue. Time hadn't been unkind to her wife. Katarina looked right past her, frozen and unspeaking. Beautiful as ever, but Riven didn't remember her this way.

Katarina used to smile at her. A lot. She could be casual and put her guard down at times, trusting Riven to have her back. She wore nightgowns to bed and an apron when she cooked. She fell asleep with a towel around her wet hair once. That was the Katarina she remembered.

Riven was dying to see her again.

"You can come out now."

Footsteps from behind.

"Perceptive as always, my love."

Riven turned and watched Katarina stop just out of reach, looking a lot like the statue come to life. It takes a long time to get to know somebody, but not nearly as much time to become strangers again. And that was who was standing before her, a familiar stranger. One she longed to touch again had the space Katarina kept between them not forbade her from doing so.

"I would ask you how you knew, but I forget myself," said Katarina. "You invented this game, after all. I simply learned from the best."

Riven took the jab in stride. Katarina was entitled to her anger.

"How–"

"I went to Coeur, you know," Katarina interjected. "They made me bury you without a body. How detestable. An arm, a leg, or even a finger. I would've been happy to take any piece of you home with me."

"You had a hunch because you couldn't find my body?" Riven asked, impressed.

Katarina laughed. "No. I had a letter."

Riven raised a brow questioningly.

"You know what they say." Katarina smiled. "Fortune favours the bold. Misfortune favours those I ask her to."

Misfortune... Miss Fortune? Riven's jaw dropped as the pieces fell into place. "Sarah?" Her captain... her only friend?

She'd known. Sarah Fortune had known and she'd sold her out. The hand extended in friendship had been just another transaction. Riven's place in her crew was safekeeping for the day Noxus would decide to collect.

"What can I say, I have old friends in high places." Katarina swept her arm to the side, as if Riven's troubles were palpable and not worthy of their time. "Worry not, Fortune's lips are even tighter than her pants."

"If you knew then why didn't you just come to me, Kat? It's not like you to play the long game," Riven growled.

Katarina hardened equally. "You have no right to accuse me of playing any kind of game with you. I would've tailed you around this continent like a cheated wife and you know it. But I tire of chasing those who don't want to be found. On the other hand, the role of grieving widow ill befits me and patience is a virtue I do not care for. I knew you'd return eventually. It was only a question of what it would take."

Riven moved aside when Katarina walked a straight path to her statue. She brushed some nonexistent dust off her marble shoulders and spoke with her back to Riven.

"It must've been hard for you to leave our life behind, I understand that now. Whatever your reasons for staying away, I knew you were in danger. I couldn't look for you," she finished sadly.

Riven broke their distance and wrapped her arms tightly around Katarina for the first time, regretting the years wedged between them. Katarina could never return to Noxus. Never speak to her siblings again. They were ghosts without a home and Riven wasn't sure they still had each other.

Katarina eased her doubts when she relaxed ever so slightly into her embrace. "It didn't take long for me to see that Noxus isn't what it used to be, but I still couldn't bring myself to forgive you." A pause. "It's a good thing people change."

"I'm sorry our first words were in anger," Riven whispered to the woman who'd given up just as much to be with her.

"Hm." Katarina patted her cheek. "As long as they're not our last."

They rode until the sun was lower on the horizon than the distant spires of Noxus. Eventually the mountains greeted them with uninviting shadows. For all of Riven's experience and Katarina's planning they were underprepared for the penetrating cold the night would bring.

They made camp under the stars. Katarina laughed indulgently at Riven's anecdotes of her days as a green deckhand on the high seas and Riven listened raptly as Katarina painted her a picture of the political web she'd been caught in. With Cassiopeia's guidance she'd puppeted most of High Command expertly. Yes, her sister, the new head of House Du Couteau, will do just fine without her.

The fire died quickly, destroying the last of the meager shrubbery they'd managed to gather before settling down. But Riven wasn't cold, not even close. After so many years apart Katarina's easy words throughout the night were like oil on her skin. Her touch, igniting. What time had ruined between them, it would also heal.

When dawn broke over the pass, mountain birds heralded the new day, their songs carried in harmony by brisk winds. Riven woke and wanted to sing with them.

Katarina greeted her from the saddlebags of their black geldings where she'd already packed her bedroll. "Good morning."

Riven smiled, watching Katarina take a swig from her canteen before wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. It was a strange thing to get aroused over, but the simple movement was so carefree and uninhibited.

"So it is."

They were to begin their new life together as ghosts, doomed to the shadows under the light of Noxus' reach. But she woke that morning with a new lens on life and she was able to see for the first time the brilliance of the world around her.

"Where to?" Katarina asked.

Riven stood from the dewy ground, arched her back in a stretch, and released a big yawn. "I'll let you take the reins on this one, Mrs. Friends-In-High-Places."

Katarina chuckled. "All right then." After a moment's thought, "Follow me."

And Riven did until the war drums of Valoran faded to memory.