Chapter 550: Riven's Big Image Change
Steam billowed across the bathroom mirror, obscuring the reflection of the silver-haired exile. Riven stood beneath the cascading spray, letting out a long, shuddering breath. The scalding water drummed against her scarred shoulders, melting away layers of grime and tension she hadn't realized she was carrying.
How long had it been since she stood under a proper hot shower? Months? Years? Her routine usually consisted of breaking the ice over a shallow creek and scrubbing the dirt away with freezing, biting water. She had long stopped viewing herself as a woman. She was a weapon. A wandering blade forged for war, not a delicate maiden meant for luxury.
Running a wet hand through her silver-white hair, she murmured, "I'll have to tie it back." Her gaze dropped to the array of bottles lined up on the marble shelf. "I suppose this one is the shampoo... smells sweet."
Following Lucifer's earlier, dizzying instructions, Riven carefully applied every product. Shower gel, exfoliating bath salts, and a rich body lotion. Stepping out of the stall, she tentatively sniffed her own forearm. The harsh scent of sweat and iron had been entirely replaced by a soft, milky floral fragrance, laced with a subtle hint of expensive perfume.
"I never knew getting clean could be such a chore," she muttered to the empty room. She traced a thumb over her forearm. "But... my skin. It looks so much lighter."
The layers of battlefield ash were gone, revealing a pale, healthy complexion beneath.
She didn't reach for her old, tattered armor. Obeying her host's strict orders, she tossed the filthy garments into a woven hamper. Toweling off, she carefully pulled on the fresh clothes laid out for her. When she finally wiped the condensation from the mirror, she froze. Riven stared at the stranger staring back at her. She slowly raised a hand, wiggling her fingers, watching the reflection mimic the motion. She simply couldn't believe that the woman in the glass was her.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, Lucifer paused, a look of genuine surprise flashing across her crimson eyes before melting into a pleased smile. "My, my. Aren't you a vision?"
Riven shifted uncomfortably. She wore a pair of slim-fit denim jeans and a soft, greyish long-sleeved jacket. The sleeves were intentionally tailored a bit long, draping over the backs of her hands and giving her an unexpectedly elegant, relaxed silhouette.
"These clothes..." Riven tugged at the hem, her voice laced with awkward hesitation. "They don't really suit me, do they?"
Lucifer stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on the warrior's shoulder. "Nonsense. They suit you perfectly. Now, hold off on the slippers. Put on these ankle socks and try those white sneakers."
Riven eyed the pristine footwear with suspicion. "White shoes? I'll ruin them. White doesn't suit me."
"Your hair is white, darling. What are you so afraid of? Come on, try them."
Reluctantly, Riven slipped her feet into the sneakers. She immediately blinked in surprise, shifting her weight. The plush insoles yielded softly beneath her heels. It was entirely alien to her; she was used to rigid leather boots and heavy steel plates. These were dangerously comfortable.
"A perfect fit," Lucifer noted with a satisfied nod. "You and Justice are the exact same size. Quite impressive. Though, I must admit, your complexion is much fairer than hers. You have a much softer, more feminine aura."
Riven pointed a finger at her own chest, her brow furrowing. "Me? Feminine?"
"Trust me. If you doubt my eye for aesthetics, just wait until you see the others' reactions. Especially Ren's." Lucifer's gaze drifted upward. "Ah. Your hair is still damp."
The concept of a hairdryer was entirely foreign to the Noxian exile. Realizing she had forgotten to explain the appliance, Lucifer gently guided the tense warrior to a vanity chair. When the Queen of Hell produced the sleek, metallic device, Riven flinched, her muscles coiling tight.
"What is that?" she demanded.
"Relax, it's just a hairdryer. Not a weapon," Lucifer said smoothly, plugging it in. "Besides, if I wanted to eliminate you, I hardly would have waited for you to bathe and dress. I could snap my fingers and you'd be dead on the floor."
Riven stiffened. "Uh..."
Before she could process the morbid reassurance, a sudden blast of warm air hit her scalp. Riven froze, her eyes widening as the soothing heat rushed through her damp locks. Lucifer chuckled, running her fingers expertly through the silver strands. "You're so jumpy. But that's to be expected. You're only human, after all."
"And you aren't?" Riven asked, glancing up through the mirror.
"I am a demon," she declared, a hint of pride in her sultry voice. "Lucifer, the Queen of Hell."
Riven absorbed the title, the warm air lulling her combat instincts to sleep. "It seems demons aren't quite as wicked as the legends claim," she murmured.
"Oh, I'm certainly no saint," Lucifer mused, her red eyes gleaming. "But how should I put this... I have a family now. My disposition had to adapt., I happen to like you." She angled the dryer, catching the lower layers of Riven's hair. "You saw the girl with the sunglasses earlier, yes? She's a demon as well. The High Prosecutor. Aside from her, there are three other demons living here, all sporting white hair. When I first laid eyes on you, I felt a rather strange sense of kinship."
"That is quite a coincidence," Riven whispered, the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. "But... a demon of justice? Isn't that a contradiction?"
"You're hardly the first to ask that. Demons reside in Hell, tasked with judging and punishing the wicked. In a functional sense, we aren't the villains mortals make us out to be. Just victims of terrible rumors across different realms."
"Hmm..." Riven opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden gust of hot air blasted her bangs, forcing her to squint shut.
Lucifer switched off the machine with a melodic laugh. "And we're done! Honestly, looking at you now, if I glued a pair of horns to your head, you'd fit right in with my court."
"I think I'll stick to being human," Riven replied dryly.
"Just a joke, darling. Now, do you want to tie that up?"
"I can manage it myself."
Riven took a hair tie, deftly gathering her dry, voluminous silver locks into a practical style. Lowering her arms, she stared at the pristine, polished woman in the mirror, still struggling to reconcile this image with her own identity.
"I genuinely didn't expect your complexion to brighten up so drastically," Lucifer noted, leaning against the vanity. "You've been through a lot of hardship, haven't you?"
Riven's gaze darkened, the phantom weight of a shattered blade resting in her hands. "It doesn't matter anymore. My country betrayed me. I bled for them, earned them countless victories, and in return, they..." She trailed off, the old wounds still too raw to voice.
"I get the picture," Lucifer said softly, cutting off the dark spiral. "We can discuss the heavy politics later when we head downstairs. On a lighter note, I'm actually surprised you know how to style your hair."
Riven shot the demon queen a flat, questioning look.
Lucifer chuckled. "Well, from the moment you walked in, it was obvious you were a hardened warrior. You carry yourself like a soldier, completely detached from your own femininity. So, seeing you fuss with a hair tie is a pleasant surprise."
"Where I'm from, soldiers of both genders tie their hair back for combat," Riven defended, though her voice lacked its usual edge. "Even if most of the men keep it cropped short."
"Ah, but you chose to grow yours out," Lucifer pointed out with a knowing smirk. "Deep down, you still possess a side that wants to feel like a woman. And isn't that a wonderful thing?"
Riven blinked, the words striking deeper than any blade. She was right. When her hair had grown out during her exile, she hadn't taken a knife to it. She had chosen to tie it back. Did she, subconsciously, still cling to that fragile piece of her humanity?
Her introspection was shattered by heavy, confident footsteps. Justice strolled into the room, her trademark sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The demon paused, letting out an impressed whistle at Riven's transformation.
"Whoa! Look at you! Now that's a seriously pretty girl!"
Riven flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of her own skin. She was used to being commended for her lethal swordsmanship, her unyielding perseverance, or her tactical brilliance. Being praised for her beauty was entirely foreign territory. Yet, a warm flutter in her chest told her she didn't entirely hate it.
Lucifer crossed her arms, raising a delicate eyebrow. "What are you doing up here? Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on that murder mystery broadcast?"
"Hey, this just proves that even in retirement, my instincts as the High Prosecutor are razor-sharp!" Justice grinned, flashing a row of sharp teeth. "I called it! The killer was the old man!"
Lucifer sighed, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Which means I just won three slices of cake and two glasses of juice from our bet. Excellent."
"You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?" Justice laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "Whatever, I'm done talking to you. I'm heading downstairs to keep an eye on the restaurant."
"My, aren't you acting the virtuous guardian today," Lucifer teased.
"What? Is my awesome dedication not good enough for you?" Justice shot back playfully.
"It's fine, it's fine. Never mind, I'll brief you on the details later," Lucifer said, waving her off.
Justice turned to leave, but paused at the door, shooting Riven a brilliant grin. "Catch you later! Oh, and when you've got some free time, we absolutely need to swap fitness tips!"
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