Countenance

20 September, 20 CLE

Tryndamere wasn't wearing his crown... his long hair was unbound and draped over his royal robes. It had almost been a week since he married Ashe and became king of Freljord, but he still didn't feel like a king. As he sat on his marble throne residing in the great hall of the castle, Tryndamere couldn't help but feel even less of a king than he was before. The lord of the barbarians brought low not by honorable combat or assassins in the night, but by a political marriage to a foreign land. Ashe sat next to him in the hall and spoke with peasants as they came one by one before the crown to ask for assistance. Issues like crops being frozen, requests for new land, and additional funds to supply schools were not important by barbarian standards. By his tribe's code, if someone wanted land they staked a claim to it... not grovel before royalty. The man or woman would plant their banner in the area of question for all eyes of the tribe to see, and designate how far it stretched. Anyone could contest the claim by right of honorable combat, battling until an agreement was met. That was the nomad's way, the way of learning by experience and by action. Tryndamere mused to himself of all the times he claimed land and had remained uncontested, while Ashe continued to manage the rabble. This was a different land, different rules and yet... he was king? He became a paragon of hope to his tribe, giving them a political voice, for the union of Freljord and the barbarians was a force that not even Noxus would trifle with. To live freely, that was all he ever wanted for his people... even if he was now a slave to the price of that freedom. Rage built itself inside of him as he continued to reflect on how his life had suddenly reached the end of its glory. Another peasant came before them.

"I beseech you, your majesties, my home is constantly being ransacked by bandits. I thought they would tire of it after pillaging what little I have, but they keep threatening that I should supply them or they'll kill me!"

"We will send soldiers with you to your home and station them there until-" Tryndamere stood up from his throne, suddenly interrupting Ashe, and approached the man.

"Show me where they are." The peasant quivered in both fear and respect for his king before leading the barbarian outside. Ashe calmly stood up as well to dismiss the rest of her citizens and followed after Tryndamere.

The king ordered his guards to fetch his sword as well as some horses and waited impatiently until they returned. One of the guards asked if the queen would be accompanying him as well and Tryndamere just ignored the question. They mounted up and took off down through the glacial city surrounding the castle. He was eager to alleviate his fury. They passed through the gates of the city and strode across the frozen wastes until they reached an outpost, one that the peasant said the bandits used. The king dismounted and took his sword in hand before approaching the outpost's gates.

...

Ashe and the royal guard arrived at the wooden structure only minutes after Tryndamere, and it appeared that the king was already finished. He stood facing at the gate he had cut down, blood covered his robes. The bodies of the bandits lied strewn about the outpost, all sorts of vital organs and limbs were severed from their owners and now rotted away on the cold earth. Tryndamere was breathing heavily, his rage had not been quenched. He turned around and looked at Ashe, she was staring at him frigidly while the royal guard dismounted to search for any survivors. She knew that he had left none alive. It sickened her to be married to the brutish man, but she also knew what he had given up to be king. Her face did not betray how her heart wept for such selflessness. Even though he could commit such atrocities as butchering bandits to quench his blood lust, he was still very much a man for his people. The peasant was found near his horse, petting its mane over and over. All attempts to speak to the man proved futile as all he could do was repeatedly say, "make the screaming stop." Tryndamere broke his gaze from Ashe, mounted his horse, and left.

She had not given up much with their political marriage. They were unionized in title only. Ashe was already accustomed to handling the disputes of her people long before she became their queen. It was like her life had not changed at all. She thought herself cold indeed, to be unwelcoming to him... to take only and not to give. She never once contemplated how he felt about it all until now.

"Tryndamere..."

...

He sat straight up in his bed, it was during the coldest part of the night that Tryndamere stayed awake. The only defense he wore against the air was sack-cloth pants and bandaging that was wrapped around his torso. He hoped that the bitter chill would claim his life one evening, then he could finally be at peace. He wasn't a king, he thought again. Him and his "wife" even slept in separate rooms, his existence had now become a perversion of the life he once had. He got up from the bed and walked over to his weapon rack to retrieve his sword. He took the blade into his hand and let his eyes wander over the intricacy of tool. It was given to him by Freljord as a symbol of his title and office, but the only symbolic value he held for it was that it was heavy... just like the burden of being king. He charged at a nearby wooden dummy in the corner of his room and began attacking. He kept hacking at it, chopping gash after gash into the wood... obliterating the dummy with each zealous strike. His muscles rippled, only illuminated by a dim light in the other corner of the room. He raised his sword up once more and then felt a hand on his back. He turned around quickly, preparing to strike the person down. It was Ashe. His body locked itself mid-strike and he dropped his sword to the floor, the metal clanged loudly against the ground. Was he really just about to cut her down? She stood in front of him in an elegant nightgown, staring up into his eyes. His mind could not battle the rage he was feeling and he hung his head in shame while using his right hand... to dig his fingers into his left shoulder. He pressed until he felt the warmth of blood begin to pool around his finger tips, his eyes closed shut... he would not look at her after such dishonor. He felt her hand once again as it lightly reached up to touch his bloodying fingers. She softly lifted his hand up to release himself, but he still kept his head down.

That's when he felt her lift up his chin before pressing her lips to his own. His eyes opened and he felt paralyzed again. This was not a mechanical kiss like the one they exchanged during their wedding, this was born of desire. All he wanted for himself was to be needed again. Her mouth was warm and the sensation felt truly genuine; it wasn't long before he closed his eyes again and began returning it. His anger now subsided, but his heart was still beating madly. She put her hands around his neck while he reached around her with his arms. He held her small frame close so that she could feel his heart pounding through his chest against her. He creaked his eyes open and caught her blushing, the sight alone would have been enough to tempt him. She moved her arms behind her back and grabbed onto his wrists. Now that he had her so close he didn't want to ever let her go, she wasn't trying to remove his hold but instead... guide it down her back. His embrace trailed down her until he could feel her lifting up her gown, letting his touch meet the soft skin of her rear. He squeezed his hands longingly and felt her hot breath exhale on his lips, it was too much for him to handle. He kept squeezing her ass with one hand and cupped the other on one of her breasts, beginning to fondle it through the fabric. She eagerly locked her lips to Tryndamere's mouth and felt his tongue invade her. He hungrily tasted his wife's saliva and swallowed her breath before reaching down to her nightgown with both hands to lift it off of her. They broke their mouths from each other just long enough for the fabric to leave her, and continued to feverishly exhibit their affection. As soon as he felt the bare skin of her breasts press against his chest, he trailed his mouth down from her own. Sucking and appreciating her neck as she tilted her head back, he only made himself desire her more and more until he finally wrapped his lips around one of her aroused nipples. Ashe's body shuddered and quaked, blushing madly as her husband sucked instinctively on one of her most sensitive spots. He enjoyed every second of suckling on her breast, swirling and flicking the tip of his tongue around her nipple. She ran her hands through his hair, cooing when she felt his fingers twisting her other nipple lightly. He would spend equal amounts of time tending to both breasts before kissing down her body again. She knew where he was going next and her cheeks blushed madly with anticipation.

He ran his hands along her toned legs while he knelt down, and she was too aroused to be conscious of her legs spreading apart on their own. Tryndamere leaned in close to her sweet sex and drank in the scent of her moist pussy. She had a small triangular patch of white hair above it. He placed his hands on her ass and pulled her close, wrapping his mouth around her clit... sucking on it profusely. She was at a loss for words as he now took her entire pussy past his lips, moaning warmly while slipping his tongue inside of her. She grasped tightly at his hair while he unrelentingly sucked and tasted her cunt like it was the only source of liquid in a barren desert. He swallowed every delicious drop of cream she shuddered out, his greed only calling him to have more of her. Without a word she backed up out of his grasp, quickly taking his hand and leading him to the bed. At no other point in Tryndamere's life has he shown more restraint. He watched her hips sway seductively back and forth before they reached the bed, he was instructed to sit down. Ashe teased him painfully, grabbing at his crotch through his pants while grinning smugly. She may have been his wife, but she was first and foremost his queen. Bit by bit she slid his pants off, noticing his prominent bulge being restricted by a tightly bound loincloth. She unwrapped the cloth, almost like a present, and ran her hands across the bulge one last time before revealing it. There was no way she could contain her reaction when she beheld his nine-inch shaft just inches from her mouth. Tryndamere patiently reclined back on his elbows while she took his length into her hand... stroking it up and down. She could feel its burning heat emanating against her hand as well as him flexing in approval of her touch. All she wanted was to please him, who had given up everything for his people and for her people. She ran her tongue up the length of his cock, savoring the sweaty taste of her husband. He leaned forward slightly to comb her hair out of her face as she began taking inch after inch into her mouth. It was so big, was all she could think as her mind completely lost all sense of logic and reasoning. All there was now was giving her king the same pleasure he gave to her. She stayed on her knees but spread her legs now to rub her pussy while she took his rod down her throat... suppressing gags just to take all of him. One thought made her more aroused than anything else, and that was of how good it was going to feel inside of her pussy. This made Ashe bob her head up and down on Tryndamere until he started moaning deeply. She pushed two fingers in and out of her cunt and stroked her tongue across his cock until they both couldn't take it anymore. He sat up and lifted her off the ground with his hands, lying her back down on the bed. Before she could beckon him over, he was already on top of her and positioned in between her legs. The tip of his rod rubbed her outer lips up and down while he stared into his queen's eyes.

"Take me Tryndamere!" That was all that needed to be said, and he plunged his cock deep into her hot, tight, wet, pussy. The pleasure was too much to bear for either of them, she felt like she was being impaled and filled to her limits, and he felt like he was being pulled in and suffocated. They were made for each other. He stayed inside long enough for him to kiss her lips once more before easing his shaft out slowly. Just as it was about to leave completely, he crashed back inside using all of his weight... the overwhelming force made her gasp in ecstasy. She reached behind him and grabbed onto his muscled rear as he steadily pushed in and out. He kept fucking her until she took in his entire length... his balls squeezed tightly against her cunt. His heart was beating faster than it had in any battle he ever fought and the feeling building inside of him he mistook for rage was absolute lust. The bed shifted back and forth steadily as he quickened his pace, moaning from feeling her inner walls clenching around his rock hard cock.

"I need you Ashe."

"Lie down."

He pulled her on top of him as he fell backwards onto the bed. She kept her legs to the side of his while she rode him, undulating her entire body while keeping his rod deep inside her. He placed his hands on her breasts and she put her own hands over them as well, making sure that he doesn't stop squeezing and pulling on them. They both moaned for each other, the pleasure didn't stop building and he could feel her cream begin to churn and leak around his shaft. He pulled her close to his chest, feeling her breasts squeeze against him, and started thrusting up into her as hard as he could. Their moans became screams of pleasure as his massive cock ravaged her tight pussy without rest, agonizingly splitting her open and milking her juice out onto his rod. He needed to release inside her. He put all of his might into his thrusts, throwing his hands onto her ass and digging his nails into her soft skin.

"Ashe!"

"Tryndamere!"

The fiery hot liquid burst from his cock into her womb, coating every inch inside of her pussy with his cum. Her own cum sprayed onto his shaft and dripped down onto his balls, their sex mixed as he kept thrusting into her out of reflex. Eventually he slowed down, but both of their breathing still remained heavy and labored. He stayed inside of her, holding her close to him, while she wrapped her arms around his chest. Tryndamere pulled the bedsheets over the both of them... tomorrow he would start wearing his crown again.