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Riven was weary to the bone by the time she had unloaded the last of the crates from the new shipping vessel and into the storage warehouse on the docks of Bilgewater. Still, she knew to keep her wits about her as she weaved through the twilight streets of the of the pirate port. The city—if it could be called that—came to life truly only once the sun began to set, including cutpurses as much anyone else, and Riven was hardly about to let her hard earned silvers from the week’s work get half-inched from under her nose.
Thankfully, if any thieves had eyed her, they must have thought better of having a go. Riven didn’t look for fights, but she supposed her myriad of visible scars, from the melters and countless other battles, actually meant something on the streets. She could handle herself, and anyone looking to take her coin from her could learn that firsthand.
So her walk back to The Greedy Gullet was relatively uneventful.
One of the taverns of better repute at the port—if such a thing could even be said in Bilgewater—The Greedy Gullet, like its neighbors, was just coming to life, serving staff already busied with handing out pitchers of ale and glasses of rum to thirsty and impatient customers. Most of the interior was already a-buzz with conversation, and the tables and stools filled.
All but one, and Riven smiled despite the weariness of a long day spent doing hard labor in the sun.
Katarina waited at one of the back tables, chin resting on her knuckles, looking eternally bored even as she casually played with a small dagger in her spare hand. Even so bored, the proverbial lightning that lingered in her eyes was enough to keep anyone from daring to join her table, and the servers certainly knew well enough by now to give her space unless specifically summoned.
Riven was the one person in the whole of Bilgewater—hell, in nearly the whole of Valoran—who need not worry about intruding on such space.
She slid into a chair, smile already growing, though she couldn’t even get a word in before Katarina did.
“Eat,” she commanded, pushing the basket of small bread loaves across the table. “Now that you’re here, they should be bringing the stew out any minute.”
Riven didn’t bother with pleasantries. Katarina at least had quickly come to appreciate the appetite Riven would work up after a full day at the docks, so quickly polished three yeast rolls down before finally pausing just take breath and wash the crumbs from her throat with ale.
The stew was set down moments later, by a serving girl who quickly bowed and took her leave. Riven was too hungry to notice how unusually quiet Kat was, how she merely picked at her own food, until Kat finally broke the silence.
“I had to dispose of some...unwanted followers today.”
Riven set her spoon down immediately. Her stew was only half-finished, but her appetite abruptly fled her, and a chill settled in her stomach. This was Bilgewater. The entire port was roughly one giant and never ending bar brawl, and Katarina was long-time assassin. She didn’t bring killing unless there was a reason to.
“What happened?”
Kat looked up unflinching, detailing off no different than a report to be delivered to old High Command.
“Five thugs for hire, looking for a Noxian fugitive of great value. Red-haired, nobility, one bad eye. Possibly with a second woman with white-hair and multiple scars.”
Shit.
They’d only been in Bilgewater for a scant month, and considering the embarrassment to High Command if they publicly admitted someone as high ranking as Katarina Du Couteau had defected and escaped unharmed...well, Riven had been hoping they’d have more time before having to deal with Swain.
Particularly considering all work Riven had put in toward trying to hide their tracks. From dying Kat’s hair, to taking a menial labor jobs on the dock, her idea had been for them to blend in.
Of course, even without her distinctive red hair, Katarina was still very much Kat.
“How did they know it was you?”
Kat bristled, jaw clenching at the memory. “The idiot leader of them said something like ‘a Du Couteau is as easy to spot as gold on a tavern floor’. What is that supposed to mean?”
Riven put her face into her hand. Dammit. The subtleties of living a life underground were unsurprisingly lost on Katarina.
“Kat…”
Katarina’s eyes narrowed into green slits, and Riven sighed, bracing herself. She knew that look, and what it meant. If there was one thing Katarina was terrible at, besides maintaining a low profile, it was taking criticism, even if Riven had yet to say anything.
“What? I’ve been doing everything you asked! I even” —she paused to grab a lock of her hair, holding it out in a near fist. “—dyed my hair and started wearing this dumb eye-patch, even though my eye is perfectly capable of vision!”
Her voice was raising in volume, and even in the busy tavern, it was beginning to draw looks. Riven reached out placatingly, reassured when Kat allowed her hand to be engulfed in both of Riven’s. She ran circles with her thumbs over the creases of Kat’s palm. They had known this wasn’t going to be easy. The very fact that they had both publicly defected from Swain, not to mention that they had then escaped retribution...well, Riven had not put any inquiries in, but she had little doubt that whatever price had been put on their heads was substantial.
Bilgewater had proven the easiest place to flee to. Once they’d arrived, Riven had immediately picked up a few odd jobs, basic menial work on the docks. She’s assumed they would lay low in the governmentless free port for the better portion of a year, keep a low profile before daring to risk sailing free of Noxus once and for all, maybe even going to Shurima where Cass was. Like most things in her life, though, it seemed that luck wasn’t in Riven’s dice.
She hardly blamed Kat, though.
Riven had spent years after Couer wandering, learning how to blend into the masses, the background, how to not be seen. Katarina, by contrast, had spent a life in high profile, as nobility, as an assassin recognized across most of Valoran.
Bilgewater might be the spot for most people who needed a quick place to become lost, but clearly there had been some oversights in their planning.
Riven looked away, teeth worrying at her lip as she thought. “Maybe Bilgewater wasn’t the best idea. Too many people here have connections to Noxus…”
Her thoughts were interrupted when Katarina’s other hand grabbed hers, grip firm and warm, as unwavering as her gaze even as she shrugged. “It made the most sense. We can’t...can’t go back to Noxus.”
They had both left it behind. Forever.
But as their fingers intertwined, Riven remembered the reason why. It was sitting across from her, staring back.
And Kat was worth it.
Despite everything, despite the dust and exhaustion and worry and a hundred other little things, Riven felt a smile tug at her lips, felt it grow when she saw the same hesitant smile—a sight that she knew only she was ever privileged with—mirrored on Kat’s face.
“Then we’ll just have to head somewhere better.”
Up with the sun, or so soldiers were taught. Even after all of the years, it was a habit Riven had never shaken. Only a few stray rays of sunlight managed to peak through heavy wood slates of the blinds, but it was enough for Riven. Past time that she was up.
Not that the same could be said for her bedmate.
Katarina slept easily, breath coming slow and shallow, faux-black hair spilled out in tendrils across the pillows and her naked back.
Riven did miss her fiery, distinctive red locks. Perhaps Kat would have the chance to let them grow back sooner rather than later. Of course, no opportunities would present themselves unless Riven went out looking for them. Which she unfortunately could not do from the comfort of bed.
She let herself enjoy the latent warmth beneath the sheets for another selfish minute, and then finally pushed herself up with a quiet sigh.
Katarina murmured lightly in her sleep as Riven pulled away, leaving the mattress behind. Riven smiled, and then chuckled softly as she donned tunic and pants over bare skin, cloth now covering the various bruises and nail marks Katarina had favored her with the night before. She always was about leaving behind marks, physical claims of what she believed was hers, and Riven hardly complained.
What was she, if not Katarina’s?
Only once the drawstrings to her breeches were tightened and her belt was buckled did Riven approach the bed again.
She pushed back the hair from Kat’s face, dipping down to place a kiss to her temple. Katarina’s eyes cracked open at this, still foggy from dreams.
“Mm?”
Riven hushed her, urging her back to sleep with a whisper. “I’m going out to see about getting us a ticket out of this port. I’ll be back by early supper, alright?”
Katarina made a small noise of assent, and then tilted her head around more.
Riven obliged the unspoken request, kissing the warm taste of sleep from her lips, slow and gentle. When she finally straightened, Katarina’s eyes had already drooped closed, cheek planted against the pillow again.
Boots donned, Riven left the bedroom quickly and quietly, making her way from The Greedy Gullet back down to the markets at the docks, smile on her face and task in mind and hand.
“I think I’ve got someone.”
Riven slid into her chair across from Katarina, well-pleased, and took a heavy swig of ale from the waiting tankard, wiping the foam from her lip afterward. Kat straightened, looking surprised by the declaration.
“You made quick work of that.”
Riven grinned. “I think I got lucky, for once.”
Kat raised on eyebrow, beckoning for more. “Well…?”
“I know, I know. You’re curious. But she’ll be here soon herself. Then you can give the final say.”
As she knew Kat would want to. In the meantime, Riven waved at one of the serving girls, signaling for a new pitcher and tankard for when their guest arrived. If there was one thing Riven had quickly learned about Bilgewater, it was that deals could only be struck over booze. That or freshly spilled blood, and she preferred the former in this case.
For her part, Katarina raised her eyebrow—the one not covered by the patch. “A woman, you say? Intriguing.”
Riven nodded. “Don’t worry, she’s not affiliated with Gangplank at all. And she seems good. Professional.”
She watched as Katarina nodded, silent gears turning behind her sharp mind. “If she’s not with Gangplank, she’d better be good. The reaver holds most of this...cesspit in his clutches.”
Riven shrugged. She knew Kat well enough that no amount of talking would fully convince her. Kat would have to meet and judge for herself. She could only hope it would go smoothly; her gut told her this was their best chance. Who knew how much longer they might have to wait...and who might come after them in the meantime.
“So what’s her name? I’ve been through Bilgewater before on past...assignments. I might know this pirate turned captain.
“Not a pirate, actually,” corrected Riven. That had been a large reason why she’d picked this woman. “Pirate hunter, apparently. Didn’t even know they existed here. She goes by Captain Fo--”
Just at that moment, as if summoned, Captain Fortune appeared. Knee high and gleaming black leather boots, a long and spotless overcoat, and ruby red lips and hair that made just about everyone in the room—man and woman alike—sigh. She was quite the interesting presentation, Fortune, but Riven felt certain she had picked the right person for the job.
She waved, and the Captain practically glided across the busy tavern, all eyes on her.
“Good to see you have ale already, Riven. For an outsider, you and your partner learn…”
Her voice trailed off as she focused on Katarina. Fortune’s eyebrows rose and rose, threatening to disappear beneath the brim of her feathered hat for a long moment, but then just as quickly the surprise vanished, replaced by the usual knowing swagger that Riven had already come to associate with her.
“Well, well, well…” Fortune slid into her chair, attention firmly fixed across the table on Katarina, even as she re-poured full drinks for all three of them.
“I have to say, Kitty Kat, you don’t look half-bad in black.” She touched her own ginger hair to emphasize the point. “Though I’ve always been fond of red myself.”
Riven watched, curious, as rather than drawing a knife for blood—as Katarina would have doubtlessly done to about anyone addressing her in such a manner—Katarina’s mouth instead moved wordlessly and her cheeks turned a steady shade of red.
“Sarah Fortune,” she finally managed, but her voice was weak, grasping at its usual force even to Riven’s ears. “I should have guessed as much from Riven’s description. Who else would have even considered the offer?”
“Who else indeed?”
Fortune leaned back easily in her chair, legs crossed and rather considerable bosom pushed out. Riven, however, did not miss how her fine, white and gold coat draped back to show the two peculiar pistols holstered at her waist.
Her gut had told her the moment she’d first met with the pirate hunter hours earlier that this was a woman not to be trifled with, no matter how she might present her body. Riven had long since learned to trust her gut instinct.
Granted, her gut had not told her that Katarina might already know their potential ticket out of here.
“I admit, I had no clue until now that this was your Riven.” Fortune tilted her head and tankard alike to Riven at the odd concession, and suddenly it all clicked together in Riven’s mind.
Ah, so that was what was at play.
Her eyes flickered from Fortune’s knowing gaze to Katarina’s still red face, and she chose to wet her throat with more ale before choosing her words.
“Is this going to be a problem for what we discussed?”
“Certainly not.”
“No!”
Fortune and Kat spoke simultaneously, Kat’s lips clamping shut in a thin line afterward, and Fortune’s tilting upward in a smile.
The smile just as quickly smoothed away as Fortune turned back to Riven, though, her voice firm and professional.
“I’m not in the business of passenger ferrying, but I can make exceptions for good coin and word. As we discussed before, I was planning to leave port in two days time and head along the coast toward Piltover. If you can pay what you said before, then I’ll be willing to take you. Just bear in mind that each body on my ship has to work their salt just as much as the next. No free-loaders.”
Riven nodded. “Fine. And you can get us there?”
Fortune’s eyes grew hard.
“I keep my end of the bargain. Half payment now, half when we get there.” She tilted her chin toward Kat. “We’re acquainted. Katarina can vouch for me and my work.”
For the first time, Katarina spoke more than a single word, though her voice came slowly. “Yes...she keeps her word.”
Satisfied, Fortune nodded. “I’m the best for a reason. But that’s why you found me, didn’t you? So do we have a deal?”
Riven glanced at Kat, who shrugged. Then she turned back to Fortune, and clinked tankards together.
“We have a deal.”
In the blackness of their room, the sounds of the usual raucous and drunken clamour muffled from outside, Katarina stared at where she knew the ceiling was.
Sleep evaded her, and the reasons why soured her mood only further.
She twisted to and fro, restless, until Riven at last rolled over from her pillow to face her, though the scant pale beams of moonlight that leaked through slats across the window were hardly enough to illuminate her face.
“What is it, Kat?”
She huffed. Of course Riven was still awake, was still just as finely tuned to Kat’s own moods as ever. If only Kat could read Riven so well.
Without knowing, how did she go about asking the questions, the doubts that now weighed on her mind?
“Fortune...what do you think of her?”
No response was forthcoming. The silence weighed down on Kat, heavier than any wait, until she fidgeted and nearly twitched and then finally opened her mouth to break it...only for Riven to speak first.
“You slept with her before.”
It wasn’t a question, nor was it said in a remotely accusatory way, and yet even in the darkness Katarina felt her cheeks burn, as if admonished.
“I-I..well yes...” Damn her dumbed tongue, her mind’s inability to summon the right words, her throat’s inability to muster them without such weakness. Her hand clenched into the sheets, and she tried again, feeling a hot, sickening shudder settle into her gut. How was she supposed to explain? “I, well what happened was...you see…”
Then before she could even think to finish. Riven was pressed up against her, stupidly strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her flush and close and tight. Pulling her safe.
“Shhh. Kat. It’s okay. Calm down. We can find someone else to give us passage. I want you to be okay. That’s what matters.”
Katarina pulled back, or as well as she could manage, to stare at the dark outline of Riven’s face. “Wait. Wait. What? Why are you worried about me being upset?”
She could just barely see Riven’s lips turn downward in a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Why aren’t you the one who’s upset?” She hissed, biting back the urge to raise her voice.
“Over what?”
Unbelievable.
“Because that’s one of my old—” fuck buddies “—flings parading right in front of you!”
And while Katarina had slept with a whole host of different people in all those years since Riven ‘died’, she never once thought about if Riven had done the same, or who those people would have been, let alone what it would be like to meet one of them. Even now, she didn’t like to think of the ‘what if’ scenario, feeling only certain that her reaction would be far less forgiving than Riven’s was now.
Riven laughed, and there wasn’t even the faintest hint of bitterness in it, only warm amusement. “Kat, I hardly care that you slept with her. I...” She paused to draw breath, tone growing more sober. “I was gone a long time. ‘Dead’ for all you knew. I never expected anything from you.”
Her hand came up to cup Kat’s face, her thumb running gently over a cheekbone. Katarina closed her eyes and leaned into it, trying to ignore the memories that flashed behind her eyelids. Riven was here now, alive and whole, and with her, and that was all that mattered.
They were here. Together.
What was there to say to that?
So instead to leaned forward, capturing Riven’s lips with her own and kissing her long and hard. They parted, and she began to feel something of her usual self.
“Besides,” murmured Riven, and Kat could practically feel the smile. “She is quite a woman. I can hardly fault your tastes, Kat.”
Kat rolled her eyes, but rather than responding immediately, she pushed, rolling Riven onto her back. In a moment she was straddling her, hands planted on either side of Riven’s head to hold her weight.
“Of course I have good tastes!” She scoffed, then she leaned down to kiss Riven again and again and again.
I have you.
Riven watched the clear horizons, finally able to enjoy both the breeze and the bird’s eye view from the crow’s nest now that they had cleared the bay and Bilgewater was but a speck behind them.
It had been barely organized chaos leaving such a busy port, but Riven had done her part, especially once Fortune had realized she was a capable enough sailor. Or at least hard enough working.
Kat, meanwhile, had instead been relegated beneath the deck about as soon as she had stepped foot on board, told to put her knives to use with the cook, since she offered little else in way of skill. It was not an untrue statement, though Fortune had been both blunt and unrelenting upon relaying it to Katarina.
Riven had a sneaking suspicion that if Kat had indeed been on Fortune’s ship before, she had not exactly been required to do any hard work.
Not that Riven minded this particular end of their ticket deal. She’d spent most of her life doing hard labor of some sort; it was a small price to pay for safe and trustworthy passage.
The skies were clear, the wind was at their back, and hopefully they would reach the City of Progress by the end of the week.
“So you’re Riven.”
Even with the rush of salty air breezing past her, it was rare for anyone these days to manage to sneak up on Riven quite so easily. Still, she tried not to let her surprise show.
“I’m Riven, yes.”
What exactly that entailed remained unclear, though as Fortune gave her a very, very detailed look over, Riven began to hazard a guess. She waited, however, until Fortune had finished her survey.
“Do I pass the test?”
That earned her a laugh. “Oh, sweeting, you more than pass my test, but I could have told you that when I first laid eyes on you.”
Riven shrugged, unperturbed by the implications.
“No, no, I was more curious about how you had managed to pass her test.”
Ah. So that was it. “You mean Kat.”
Fortune shrugged, somehow making even so simple a gesture seem like a seductive invitation. “Who else? Even you have to admit, she plays her cards surprisingly close.”
An understatement. The only time Kat was typically open was in the heat of bloodlust. But feelings, emotions...yet somehow, somehow Kat was still here. With Riven. And with no sign of leaving her side, no matter the difficulties they faced.
Riven was not oblivious to just how out of character that must seem to most people who knew of Katarina. Yet Fortune did not seem surprised, but intrigued. Curious.
“She never did enjoy bringing you up much, and I know better than to pry where unwanted and unneeded, but...I don’t think she ever stopped loving you, even when you were nothing more but a ghost. I had never thought to meet you, but I am glad I have. You fit one another, in your own peculiar ways.”
Fortune offered a hand, well-manicured and cared for, though still with its fair share of callouses and tiny scars, evidence of their own untold stories.
Riven thought for a long moment about what Fortune had said, everything that was implied and yet left unsaid, of the too many years Riven had spent wandering, and Kat had spent trapped in Noxus, believing her lover dead.
When she looked up at Fortune, her blue eyes were sharp and terribly knowing.
“I’m Riven,” she repeated out loud, abruptly appreciating just what that meant far more. She finally clasped the outstretched hand, shaking firmly.
Fortune’s smile, though, was not judging but pleased. “Indeed you are. Now, if you will, I have a proposition of sorts that I believe you might be interested in…”
Riven folded her arms, and heard Fortune out.
The only outlet for Katarina’s chagrined frustration was on the helpless fish and sea critters that she had been ordered to cut and slice up. She’d never handled a fish a day in her life beyond the perfectly cooked meals that had been served to her my servant staff, though she found there was no more difficulty in filleting the creature freshly caught from the nets than in doing the same to a grown man. Easier really. The fish didn’t struggle back.
She’d actually just managed to fall into something of a routine when she and the behemoth of a man just called ‘Chef’ were interrupted by another sailor dropping of a bag full of fresh clams, a wink and a smile on his face.
“Looks like the captain’s takin’ a liking to that new white-hair we picked up at port!” The scurvy-laden scummer favored Kat with a grin that showed more missing teeth than whole ones. “She’s even up in the crow’s nest with ‘er now!”
He left his shellfish by Chef with a chuckle as Katarina stared after him, knives and half-filleted fish now forgotten.
It was then, with some measure of what was certainly not panic that Katarina bolted from the the galley to the deck above, hands still covered in fish goop as she looked frantically above toward the lofty crow’s nest for sign of two women, ignoring Chef’s angry yells for her to get back.
She recognized the small, heavily muscled body beginning to scale down the ropes, but where was Miss Fortune then? Unless she’d been misinformed? Or was the captain still up there?
“Did Chef already give you break? You have to earn you place on this boat, you know.”
Katarina nearly jumped, finding Fortune right behind her.
“I can step away from the kitchens for a moment and your damn ship won’t fall apart!” she retorted. She wasn’t a prisoner to be kept under lock and key, dammit. “I’ve been working!”
“Don’t lie to me.” Fortune uttered the words in a tone that was all smoke and low, dusky command...definitely not the way she commanded the usual sailors on the ship, and very much reminiscent of rather different past scenarios of orders and punishments being meted out.
The sudden confusion between mind and body robbed Katarina of usual ascerbic comebacks, and she frowned. Just what…?
Then Fortune reached out, suddenly gripping Katarina’s chin in hand and keeping her from looking anywhere else.
Fortune’s fingers dragged across Kat’s jaw, just the slightest pressure of her nails against skin, all understated and commanding suggestion. Kat froze, all thought immediately fleeing her mind in a panicked chitter as goosebumps broke out across her neck and arms. Her tongue was dry and her muscles were stone, and she couldn’t seem to look away from Fortune’s sea-blue and hypnotic gaze.
“Join me for dinner in my chambers tonight, darling. And don’t worry, Riven will be there. Consider it captain’s orders.”
Then the fleeting touch was gone, and with it Fortune as she disappeared toward her captain’s quarters.
Katarina blinked, sucking in a breath and belatedly shooting glares around the deck at anyone who might have been watching. There was only one, though.
Riven clung easily to the ropes that led down from the crow’s nest, her unblinking red gaze fixed on Katarina, and a low, secretive smile playing at her lips.
It called to life something sharp, hot, and oddly disorienting beneath her breast. A flush rose in her cheeks at the entirely all too knowing look Riven’s still favored her with, and rather than stay above deck any longer, Katarina exited back down to the kitchen, stomach fluttering as she tried not to dwell too much on just exactly what had exchanged lips in the privacy of the crow’s nest, and what might await her in the privacy of the captain’s chambers tonight.
Dinner was no small feast, and though Katarina felt some measure of pride in having helped cooked the dishes, it was dwarfed by her irritation at the sheer amount of work that went into it.
Nonetheless, she held her chin high when Fortune and Riven both gave their regards over the quality of the food.
“I know,” Katarina responded rather tartly into her own wine goblet. “I helped make them all.”
The suggestion that she had perhaps missed a calling in the kitchen was met with a scoff of derision. Her knives and skills alike were better meant for being buried in bodies, not in fish carcasses.
The rest of the meal was surprisingly cordial, though...perhaps because their mouths were too well occupied with eating to speak. Katarina was surprised by how hungry she was, and she had spent barely any time on deck and in the harsh sun.
“Well now,” began Fortune, sighing happily as she deposited her fork for the last time onto her empty pewter plate.
Her gaze moved first to Riven before choosing to linger on Katarina.
“Dinner is finished.” She stood, taking one step, then another, closing the distance. “Good food. Good wine. Good company, dare I say. Thought I must remind Chef to make desserts next time we have guests. How else to end the night, after all?”
For the second time that day, Fortune reached out to grip her chin with one hand, and Kat startled, looking sideways toward Riven.
With the way both Riven and Fortune were eyeing her, she had the sudden and disconcerting sensation that she was the next course.
“So I’m thinking now, Kat, why don’t we have a bit of fun instead? You’ve always like having fun, now haven’t you, Kat?”
Her heart was in her ear, hot and hammering, and when she dared a glance sideways at Riven, she was greeted with a casual stare back. No expectations, nothing, ready to go along with whatever Katarina chose.
Whatever she chose.
She swallowed heavily, looking back up at Miss Fortune. She licked her lips once before finding her words. “Yes.”
A hum was the only immediate answer.
Fortune’s fingers tightened their grip, tilting Kat’s face up before leaning in to kiss her. It was just as Katarina remembered, bold but unhurried, as if taking all the time in the world to explore and be certain. Damn, but she had forgotten what a good kisser Fortune was. A tongue swiped languidly against her lower lip, askance for more, and Katarina eagerly obliged.
As soon as her hands reached out for more, though, Fortune immediately pulled back, shaking her head for all that her smile grew even wider.
“Ah ah...now when did I give you permission to touch?”
Katarina glared. Damn Fortune and her strict ‘policy’ of being captain while on the boat...in all manners. As if Katarina hadn’t been the one to call shots before.
Fortune, however, seemed to see straight through Kat’s thoughts. Without looking away, she called out.
“Riven, if you would be dear...since Katarina seems to have trouble keeping her hands to herself…”
Katarina jerked her head sideways as Riven rose with an easy grace, wood creaking beneath her step.
“But of course, Captain.”
Then Riven was behind her, one tanned and muscled arm wrapping around each side of the chair, pinning Katarina’s wrists back down to the armrests. Out of instinct, she pressed back, but it was a futile attempt. Even from such an angle, Riven was hopelessly stronger than her, and merely gave a dark and quiet chuckle from behind her ear that shivers running down her spine.
Fortune smirked over her. “Much improved.”
Then Fortune’s lips were on hers again, and the prior resentment that had darkened Kat’s brow was immediately forgotten. Lips, tongue, teeth, hands...for Fortune, they were a kind of weapon wielded unlike any other.
Wielded with enough skill and finesse that she could almost forgive being at the disadvantage.
Almost.
Until Fortune dragged her teeth down and across Katarina’s lip hard enough to draw blood.
Kat yelped, lurching backwards but still wrested in place by Riven’s unrelenting grasp.
She was already in a state of disarray, she realized; her pants and corset alike untied and have pushed down, and Fortune without a single hair out of place. Now that was not fair.
As if reading her thoughts, Fortune laughed, then reached into the folds of her ridiculous captain’s coat. A flash of white flew from her hands and onto the bed: a bundle of rope.
Oh. No.
One hand patted her cheek reassuringly.
“Time to have some fun, Kat.” Without pausing, Fortune looked behind Katarina. “Riven. You’ve become quite the skilled sailor for picking up the trade late and life.”
Fortune stopped only to take a deep gulp from her wine goblet.
“Show me what kind of knots you can tie.”
Katarina struggled back--it simply wasn’t in her nature to quietly submit--but she was far from her sharpest, and Riven was always too strong. All too quickly she was pinned down onto the mattress, lengths of white, silken rope looped her wrists and then her ankles, pulling her spread-eagle across the sheets.
Riven loomed in close, her voice hot and dark. “This is fun.”
“Don’t make a habit of it,” retorted Kat.
“Don’t think you get to make demands this time.” Which was true, but hardly something Katarina was about to concede.
Fortune chose the moment to interrupt, her voice rich with something like mirth. “I do so love that position for riding.”
Riven straightened, surveying Katarina anew. “Oh?”
“By all means…” Fortune waved with one hand, sitting down in a throne-like chair with legs crossed, clearly content to watch for the time being.
Riven grinned over her, and Kat felt her stomach drop.
Riven fumbled at her own belt, and her breeches soon followed, quickly discarded to the side of the bed along with any pretenses.
She settled down over Katarina’s face, the ample, wet heat that Kat now licked at the only evidence of her desire. Soon enough Riven was bucking her hips into it, riding hard into Kat’s mouth as she worked. Riven was getting close, she knew, and with just a little more—
“That’s enough.”
At the command, Riven pulled back immediately, and despite her best efforts, Katarina whined for the sudden lack of contact, mind and senses alike reeling.
Fortune was still perched on one of her ornate chairs, still watching, but at some point in between Riven pushing Kat to the bed and Kat losing her coherent thought, she’d divested herself of her fine captain’s garb, and now sat quite comfortably in only her skins.
She crooked one finger.
“Come here, Riven.”
Riven strode over easily, no hint of how Katarina had worked so hard to bring her just almost to the edge of pleasure. Kat’s hands tightened into fists as Fortune stared directly back at her, smirking even though she spoke to Riven.
“I think you deserve a reward for your hard work.”
‘Hard work’?! Katarina gaped at the insinuation, furious and yet helpless against the rope bonds that held her in place. No amount of straining or twisting would free her.
Rather, she was forced to watch. To watch as, with Fortune’s urging, Riven straddled her over the chair. She watched, licking her dry lips, as Fortune kissed Riven deeply. She watched as Fortune then guided Riven’s hand between her own legs, moaning at the contact there, and then returned the favor herself.
She watched as they touched each other, no teasing or pretenses, goading one another’s pleasure on as Kat could only hiss through her teeth. She had done all the work, had gotten Riven to this point, had by default done the same for Miss Fortune. And yet she was denied the very favors she had given, forced merely to look on even as her own desire thrummed through her blood all the more heavily.
Riven came first, shuddering and shaking with low groan that made Kat ache with jealous want.
“That’s good,” said Fortune, urging Riven off of her. Though her voice was as commanding as ever, it was unusually unsteady. She blinked several times, and then her gaze slid back to Kat.
In the long seconds as she was studied, Kat felt her heart begin to hammer in her ears.
“I do believe you’ve given me some...inspiration.”
Whether the compliment was intended for Kat or for Riven, Katarina was uncertain. But she knew at this point it hardly mattered.
Katarina jerked and twisted as Fortune led Riven just beyond her vision, toward the sizeable driftwood dresser Fortune kept. She heard a draw being opened, and then Riven making a noise of pleased surprise.
“...this particular one is Piltovian in design, and I have to say I’m most fond of it. It has such lovely ridges along it, you know?”
There was a low sound of affirmation from Riven, and then the sound of objects being moved, of something like a belt buckle. As much as she craned her head, though, Kat couldn’t make out what was going on, only just barely see Riven’s backside in her peripheral.
Her apprehension only grew.
Riven finally turned toward her, face marked with a wide and white grin, and Katarina got a full view of just what gift Fortune had bestowed her with. An aide-de-amour, strapped tightly in place against her pubis by a well-oiled leather harness. She let Katarina have the view for only a moment before she was working loose the cursed knots of ropes at her ankles and wrists.
Fuck.
“Now, now, Katarina...if I wanted your eyes to stay closed I’d have used a blindfold.”
“Fuck off,” she grunted, almost praying for a slap, a strike, for anything.
But Fortune just laughed, and Kat could hear her take her seat back on the wooden chair. “Oh, don’t you worry...I intend to.”
Then, without even the faintest pause, Riven yanked her by the hair, dragging her off the bed before shoving her onto the wooden floor. Kat landed with a grunt on all fours, palms stinging from the impact. She had landed squarely in front of Miss Fortune.
Still, Riven didn’t release her. She pulled harder, until pain shocked through Kat’s neck and her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. She was forced to look upward, as Fortune spread her legs lazily. There was no need for words.
“Earn your keep, Katarina.”
She started a steady pace against Fortune, just as she knew was expected, jaw beginning to ache all over again at being used a second time so quickly.
Yet it was hard to concentrate on Fortune, not when she knew Riven lured just behind her. It was only a matter of time. A matter of time until Riven pressed up against her, until she pressed that toy between Kat’s legs and…
Katarina shuddered at the thought, and then sucked in a gasp of breath when Fortune abruptly pulled Kat back from the junction of her thighs.
Just what…?
“Stop focusing on her,” Fortune punctuated her words by yanking Katarina’s head further back, forcing her chin up at a painful angle in order to meet Fortune’s gaze. “And focus on what I want, or you’re never going to get what you want, dear.”
“And just what is it that I want?” The pert, rebellious answer bubbled up past her lips before she could even think, and she flinched instinctively when Fortune brought a hand to her face.
Rather than the expected slap, though, instead two fingers wiped the wetness from her lips and chin. Fortune then reached beyond her vision them, and Katarina heard movement from behind as Riven obediently took them into her mouth, sucking. Fortune took a moment to sigh, pleased, her other hand still firmly keeping Kat’s head in place between her thighs. Then she retracted her hand, favoring Katarina with a knowing smile.
“Why, darling, to get thoroughly fucked.”
Then she shoved Katarina’s face back before anything else could be said.
The first touch of touch of the toy against her clit made her jerk. Fortune’s nails raked her scalp like claws in retribution.
“Focus, Kat.”
Every time she paused or dropped pace even the slightest bit—hell, every time she practically thought about anything Riven was doing with that damned toy—Fortune seemed to know. And every time she paid back the favors on Kat’s skin, even as Riven continued her slow, tortuous teasing.
Beginning, stopping, beginning again. Just a tiny bit more every time, the beginning hints of a rhythmic pace until Katarina was moaning and quivering alike, undone.
She could feel it, hovering just by her entrance, Riven hands like a vice grip on her hips to prevent even the attempt at the movement she so dearly craved.
“Captain?” Riven asked from behind her, looking for permission.
Please, already…
But Kat daren’t slow to look up, even when she felt the pensive hum thrum through Fortune.
The grip on her hair lessened, becoming a dangerous caress.
“Well, Katarina, what do you think?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, working all the harder, refusing to look up. Fortune was close, so close. Legs tightening around Katarina, muscles beginning quiver, hips urging more, ever more. And Kat gave. Anything to get some relief, any relief, if it would make Riven actually fucking...
“That’s a good girl,” came the somewhat breathy praise from above her.
Then Riven was finally, finally pushing inside her, moving in steady, well-paced thrusts to bring Katarina quickly to climax even as she did the same for Fortune.
The weather was clear and sunny when they pulled into port at Piltover, and the vast docks were already busied with huge freighters unloading their trade hauls.
Riven sighed, glad at the prospect of having the firm and unmoving earth beneath her feet again. Not that the last leg of the trip had been unpleasant by any measure...but still.
Fortune, who had been barking out orders to her crew, caught Riven’s glance and paused to grin, richly amused. She strutted over, even as Katarina took her place by Riven’s side, their bags unloaded and waiting.
“City of Progress, as I promised you both.”
Kat nodded, as though she had expected nothing less, and passed over the small bag of gold coins, the final payment as originally promised back in Bilgewater.
“Thank you,” offered Riven. “For everything.”
“My dear,” began Fortune, her toothy smile only growing against her red lips. “I feel as though I should be thanking both of you. I won’t lie--I am sad to see you both go, though I wish you best. And should you find yourself in need another ticket out of this port...well.” She pressed her two forefingers to her lips in a kiss, then mimicked firing a gun. It was flashy, ridiculous, and—Riven had learned—entirely Miss Fortune, and hopefully not the last she would see of the strange pirate hunter. “You know to look me up.”