Sivir wasn't one for travel.
The last time she'd left Shurima, she had a run in with a strange spider lady. Left a bad taste in her mouth, made her skin crawl, and she was always paranoid of what might be watching her; she didn't want to be sacrificed to a weird god, of course.
It wasn't that she was afraid. Nothing made her afraid. The mercenary was fearless.
But travel didn't click with Sivir.
It was unavoidable, at times, though, and she was forced to Bilgewater, to the strange wooden planks and the unnatural sound of water all around her.
A feeling of unease washed over her as a fight began in the bar she was in. Her client had yet to show, and she was not about to stick around for drunk idiots to pull her into a fight.
Fuck it. The ship captain asking for her assistance could wait.
She left, feeling no better stepping out into the evening.
The stars were the same as always, which reassured her just a bit, and she walked over to hostel she was rooming at, only to stop at the sight beyond an empty dock looking out onto the ocean.
In the distance, large boulders jutted out of the waves, and a strange, feminine figure sat upon them.
Sivir cautiously walked forward, watching this odd being glisten under moonlight. The creature had no legs, but rather a... fish tail, instead. Bright green scales rippled as the tail swished back and forth, and a large gem was set into the being's chest.
Then the fish-like lady looked up, caught Sivir looking, and the mercenary blushed as their eyes met.
Such strange eyes, gold irises but black eyes...
Then the lady was diving into the water with a splash, and Sivir was left to her thoughts.
The captain who Sivir had been set to meet had sought her out personally the next day, and the mercenary was greeted with the woman's presence upon waking, red hair in a braid and a pompous feather in her tri-corner hat, but a formidable aura abound her.
"You weren't at the agreed meeting place," the client said from the doorway of Sivir's room.
The Shuriman grimaced at the sharp light coming in through the window as it hit her directly in the eyes.
"You were late," she retorted, "and I'm not about to stick around during a bar fight."
The red-haired woman nodded in understanding. "I got caught up in some, shall we say, business. It's been handled."
Sivir rose from her stiff bed with a grimace. "I haven't quite caught your name, lady."
"Sarah Fortune. Captain of the Syren."
"I'm well aware."
"Just reminding you."
Captain Fortune had hired Sivir for assistance on finding a strange relic. Apparently, it could grant one an aura of power, though at quite the mana cost.
Sivir wasn't one to ask as to why this relic was needed, but she was still curious. Captain Fortune was powerful. Anyone could see it. Why would she need something she already has?
Perhaps to keep it out of the hands of the enemy? But then, who is the enemy?
Why Sivir? She was a mercenary, not some treasure hunter like that blondie from Piltover. He would cream his pants for an expedition like this.
So many questions. Questions that would be answered in time, hopefully.
Regardless, Sivir followed Captain Fortune to the woman's (rather impressive) ship.
"A beauty, isn't she?" the woman said with a smirk as she spotted Sivir's raised eyebrows.
"Not bad," the Shuriman said in reply, and followed on board.
The ensuing ship ride was long and warm, and Sivir welcomed the heat. It was something familiar in a strange land, and the unease she felt at travel had not lightened much.
"I hope none of the men are bothering you. I know some of them take one look at a woman and think they can win her over."
Sivir met Sarah's eyes and smiled. "I think they can tell I'm not one to be fucked with."
"Glad to hear it, but you just seemed troubled, is all."
Silence passed between them for a short time before Sivir remembered that strange, hauntingly beautiful figure from the night before.
"Are there any... ladies, with, uh... fish tails?" she asked, slightly uncertain. It could have been a strange hallucination, after all.
"Ah. You saw the Tidecaller," Captain Fortune replied. "She's harmless, I assure you, unless you attack her. She means well, and is searching for something. What, I do not know, but she is a kind soul."
"She was..." Sivir paused. There were simply too many words to describe such a beauty.
"She has that effect. But she doesn't often meddle in the affairs of humans unless they pique her interest."
Sivir smirked. "I've been known to strike lucky."
Sarah had pinpointed the relic down to three close-knit islands a ways from Bilgewater, and set about figuring out the puzzle to the relic's location. Some arcane magic hid it, and Sivir, having no expertise with that, let Sarah handle it.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," the bounty hunter admitted four hours later. "This is gibberish to me."
"We can agree there, can't we?" Sivir said, taking a sip of water from her moleskin.
"Aye, we can." Captain Fortune sat down beside the mercenary, pulling a flask out from under her coat and taking a large swig.
"Would the Tidecaller know what to do?" Sivir asked.
"Most likely, as this relic originates from her people, from what I've heard."
"Do you think I can meet her this evening?"
"She doesn't like to come close to humans, Sivir."
"I'll try my luck."
Sarah took another swig of her flask.
"I'm gonna go for a walk," Sivir said, standing. "If you need me, I'll likely be on the eastern island."
And she left.
Sarah looked back to the collection of information she had on the relic, and downed the remainder of the bourbon in her flask in one gulp.
The sun was beginning to set as Sivir spotted a pair of glowing golden eyes peering at her from the water.
Sivir met the Tidecaller's eyes, felt her heart hammer in her chest, but beckoned the lady closer.
The being crawled onto the beach, and Sivir moved forward with caution but a deep curiosity.
"I've heard you don't bother yourself with humans, Tidecaller," she said, and the creature smiled with an eerie look in her eyes.
"None have ever been interesting enough, but you... yes, you seem worth my time."
"And why is that?" Sivir said, feeling oddly flattered.
"I've never seen anyone like you."
"Someone from Shurima? I'm sure you have."
"No, someone... with such an odd connection to water."
Sivir's breath caught in her throat. "You... you can see..."
"Yes... on the brink of death, water saved you, and it flows through your veins now."
The mercenary thought back to that betrayal, to those strange revelations, thought of Azir, the legacy she supposedly had...
"You're a strange one, Tidecaller," Sivir said, laughing to cover up her anxiety.
"As are you. Though I do not know your name."
"And I am Nami," she replied, and Sivir felt a chill go down her back, like she'd made an unbreakable deal.
"Tell me, Sivir, what do you know of your connection to the water?"
"Not much, I must admit."
The Tidecaller smiled a wide smile, plump lips and ever so sharpened teeth luring Sivir in even more. "Come into the water and I will show you."
Sarah began to worry when Sivir hadn't returned at nightfall, but a part of her hoped, dearly, that she had met the Tidecaller. Any assistance in getting this relic would be incredibly helpful. Having it would allow her to overpower Gangplank in a fight, and she needed to finish him off, for good.
And she needed Sivir for that. The woman knew how to organize raids, that much was known, and Sarah intended on gaining a powerful ally and good counsel at the same time.
To her surprise, when she finally arrived, Sivir had undressed, clothing flung onto a nearby rock and crossblade digging into the sand, and was frolicking, or, no, dancing, perhaps, with the Tidecaller in the deeper waters.
Sarah hung back, watching as the water moved around the two in a strange way, as the gem set into the Tidecaller's chest radiated with an arcane power and Sivir's skin began to glow in various places, particularly in the shapes of large gaping wounds.
They slowly became more entertwined as little waves washed between them, and soon their breasts were pushed together, Sivir's hands on the Tidecaller's hips while the marai's arms wrapped around her neck.
It was slow and deliberate, like they had synced with each other and knew they both wanted it, and they did not pull away for some time.
When they did, the glow faded, and they were left to whisper sweet nothings to each other.
Miss Fortune stepped away and the brilliant light faded away, ignoring the strange burn in her stomach.
Perhaps it was the alcohol.