Oh look, I'm in so deep that I felt the need to actually update within the century.
Also dang it, all you guys guessed what I was planning for this second part.
Quick thing to mention, if it wasn't obvious already, this uses perhaps 70% old lore. Pre-2013-changes Ashe is always queen in my heart. The remaining 30% is a combination of new lore and stuff I pulled out of my ass.
Mosikiældavín: Chapter 2
Ashe's eyes snapped open, a profound feeling of dread accompanying her sudden awareness. The sun's warming rays harshly pushed away the fading nightmare with a dull throbbing headache, made no better by her parched throat. The conjured dreamscape of inky blackened ice made way for memories of recent transpired events involving much alcohol consumed in the presence of a certain assassin. There was a soft breathing from next to her, and that was enough for her to fill in the gaps in her mental recollection.
Ashe closed her eyes again, face screwed up in a grimace, and took deep measured breaths. As much as she knew it was futile, she hoped that her assumptions were wrong, and that it was merely Tryndamere lying in bed beside her, but she knew it could not be true. The man snored like an ox, and he almost never spent the night in their quarters. Additionally, all the sheets were stolen to the other side of the bed, which neither Ashe nor Tryndamere ever did to one another, as they both tended to get too warm as opposed to too cold.
She cracked an eye open again, and with much effort lifted her head to take a peek over her shoulder. A bundle of blankets greeted her with a shock of red hair tumbling from between the folds. Ashe exhaled sharply through her nose, holding back a groan, and gently slid off her bed to find her garments.
How ironic that one could spend years cultivating a public image to appease fickle and traditional people only to have it all threaten to collapse in a momentary lapse of judgement and sobriety. Her body stiffly ran through motions on autopilot as her brain ran wild, calculating the next best possible approach to the situation.
Amongst her people, it was forbidden for a woman, let alone a warmother, to be intimate with anyone outside their oathbound, least of all one from another neighbouring nation they had tense relations with. She absentmindedly sipped at her tea that she had made without realising, allowing its taste to soothe her thoughts. She glowered at her bedroom door from the seat she was now perched at in the attached living space of her quarters, as if her stare would make all her problems go away.
She wished.
She had to tackle this logically. It would be like one of the countless games of hnefatafl that she used to play with her mother. 'It would do you good in teaching you strategy', her mother always said. She had to play smart and tactically, and not let her pieces get cornered. It would be no different than trying to read Katarina's next moves on the fields, and that, she had plenty of experience with.
Ashe had once thought the assassin brash and hot headed, though she really was, countless battles to the death against her proved there was still much more to her than that.
Katarina was a skilled high ranking Noxian assassin, no one in Noxus rose to power without being careful enough to watch their back, not much unlike Freljord. In battle, she always only struck whenever most opportune, performing dances with her victims, luring them out of comfort to reveal their weaknesses before preying on them. The key would be not to show weakness.
Ashe steeled her nerves, and waited, watching her door, her mind running through every possible route of conversation and how she could expertly twist the verbal battlefield to her advantage. She was suddenly shaken from her reverie by a muffled crash coming from the other side of the door, the sounds of steel impacting what was likely the hardwood floor. Ashe furrowed her brow, making her way to the door to get a better listen, hand poised on the molded handle. She caught a whisper of what sounded like an expletive before silence descended once more. She waited a few moments with baited breath, but she couldn't seem to hear anything else.
Ashe tentatively turned the handle, opening the door to reveal her empty room, the sheets awry on the floor, and a chair toppled over, Tryndamere's helmet had joined the haphazard floor decor, explaining the mysterious crashing sounds. Across the room, the curtains fluttered gently from the breeze coming through the open window. Ashe strode across, leaning out over the sill, catching the slightest glimpse of red and black, nearly invisible to anything but her sharp eyes, flashing through the trees below. She sighed and closed the window.
For some reason, Katarina making a quick escape didn't occur to her, but no matter, good tafl players knew to have a contingency plan for anything unexpected. The avoidance of any sort of conversation may have put Ashe in a better position after all. If Katarina spread word about their evening tryst, it was her word against Ashe's. No one would believe her, Ashe would make sure of it.
A soft rap on the door to her quarters interrupted her thoughts.
"Lady Ashe?" A voice floated through the door, likely belonging to one of the many attendants the Institute had to offer in keeping the establishment running. Ashe cracked the door open, knowing that she hardly looked the part of a royal, in the previous day's combat attire and eye bags to match, thankfully the woman on the other side was polite enough to pretend to not notice.
"Yes?"
"Your advisor requested that I summon you."
Ashe nodded, thanking the woman before sending her on her way, and closing the door. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.
Hamund, the advisor in question, was an old crone of a man, and perhaps one of her greatest adversaries off the fields. He was stuck in old traditional ways and fiercely loyal to her mother when she led the frørbogmóðir clan. Unsurprisingly, he was the most vocal in calling for Ashe's head before she was granted Avarosa's bow, and even then did he only begrudgingly accept her leadership. Their agreements since were tense; He called Ashe's choice, to form a council with him on it, one that only a fool would make. Regardless, he took the seat and continued to be a constant thorn in her side, disagreeing with all her choices on anything that steered Freljord down a course that veered away from the ways of old.
Recently he had accompanied her to the Institute to monitor that she was, in his words, properly representing his people. Surely the summons meant nothing good. A part of her panicked that perhaps he had already gotten wind of what had transpired last night, but she knew better than to jump to conclusions.
Ashe trudged to the closet in her bedroom to clean herself up. Political warfare meant that even one's personal presentation played a major factor in gaining the upper hand. She had selected a set of her finer robes, when she caught a sight of her reflection in the mirror and froze. Though her bunched up cowl obscured most of it, a line of reddish purple bruises marched a trail up the pale skin on her neck. She felt her face redden as the vivid memories of rough bites painting her skin with the unmistakable blemishes ran through her mind. She hurriedly made sure to select one of her higher necked tunics to go with the outfit, making a grand show of it to an audience of zero, trying to act as if she wasn't flustered in the least.
The hearth in the room crackled almost as if in greeting upon Ashe's arrival, more enthusiastic than the half-stand the stooping old man in the seat offered for her. She took the seat across him, knowing full well that Hamund, skin leathered by harsh arctic winds, hardly needed the warmth in the barely cooling late autumn weather. He regarded her for a moment with his one good eye, looking for cracks in her facade, as if trying to see if she would show the physical discomfort the warmth caused her.
"I was not aware we were in the business of dealing with Noxians." He began at last after a moment's silence.
"I was not aware the council was in the business of prying into personal lives." Ashe internally thanked her years of intensive training on controlling her breathing, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.
"Child, you are naive to think that this does not reflect upon Freljord's good name. I can not allow your champion to continue on as he is any longer." Hamund practically spat the title out in disdain. "Losing matches on loan to other nations? Fraternising with another? You let him do whatever he wishes, soon you will find that no one will take you seriously if you can not keep him under control."
Certainly not the tirade she was expecting to hear, but definitely not the one she wanted either. Still, she said nothing, training her face and posture to remain ever like true ice, even as he continued on about how she was clearly unworthy as Freljord's leader. She felt a heaviness in her heart as she watched his face, contorted with rage, spittle practically flying, a far cry from the once kind man who stood at her mother's back. She quickly buried the memory, there was no point mourning once was when he had quickly changed his tune after he realised Ashe was not going to follow the same raiding traditions.
The bittersweet feelings melted away to a simmering anger that that prickled under her skin. She felt it boil with every admonishing word that Hamund unleashed. The sweltering heat of the room only added to its blaze.
"Where does all that aggression usually hide?" Katarina's amused voice rang in her mind. The memory surfaced as a ludicrous comparison to the matter at hand: The irony of Katarina having asked that in a post coital haze, to Ashe now controlling her anger while being lectured about barbarian savages not being able to help flirting with the enemy.
"I loath to think what your mother would think of all this were she still alive."
SLAM.
Hamund stared in stunned silence at the hand Ashe slammed on the tabletop, his face a portrait of shock.
"That is enough." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Although she spoke quietly, it seemed almost as if her words carried the force of the Gelid Vortex behind them. A chill permeated the room with its reaching tendrils.
"You… how dare you. You are but an insolent child disrespecting her mother's legac—"
Ashe pressed her fingers against the table, trying to keep her hand from shaking. Hamund halted mid sentence, flabbergasted as lines fine frost crystals spidered their way across the table from under Ashe's hand with audible snaps.
"My mother died for a cause that never should have been in the first place." Ashe wrestled to keep her voice steady. Over a decade felt like hardly enough time for her to forget the painful memories of holding her mother's lifeless body. The sting of a cold she no longer felt, her tears frozen on her cheeks, and same pain in her chest, all of it as vivid as it had ever been. Yes, she had become a leader that day, she assumed her mother's mantle, and issued orders resulting in their tribe's survival, there was no doubt that day that she would succeed her mother. It was also that day that she vowed to change Freljord's ways.
"Whilst the rest of the continent is at peace, we still find quarrel amongst our own. What good will traditions do us when we are dead? We can no longer continue to fall behind." Ashe released her hand from the table, leaving behind a complex lattice of ice across its surface. "Furthermore, Tryndamere is your King, he has done far more for Freljord on the fields than you have with your attempts to rift us back into raiding tribes. You are to respect him as such. What he may do in his personal time is of his own interest, and not any of your concern.
"As for my insolence, as you say, I will do well to remind you that things are different now, and we no longer stand on the same grounds we once did. Freljord is well on her way to change, and perhaps now people will not be so eager for my head should you call for it."
Ashe stood up to leave, schooling her face back into its usual impassiveness, a contrast to the racing she felt in her heart. She wasn't really sure where that all came from, not sure if she was really defending Tryndamere, or herself.
Hamund offered her no response, nor did he try to stop her as she left the room, his gaze trained on the extinguished hearth, the logs slick with ice.
"Copper for your thoughts?"
Over her shoulder, Ashe nearly chortled at how proportionally small Tryndamere managed to make the large bison beneath him look. The creature snorted and shook fresh snowflakes from its shaggy gray fur. She turned her attention back to the icy expanse before her, mentally chiding herself for spacing out. She may be a champion protected by the Institute, but only from other champions. The teleportation point she had agreed to set up with the institute was established as in the middle of nowhere as she possibly could put it, nearly dead centre between where the three major tribes' territories met. While that did cut transportation time from the institute by weeks, their caravan had been on the road for two days and was still another day's travel off from Rakelstake.
"Hm, just watching for storm signs."
"Is this the calm before the storm, then?" Tryndamere brought his mount up to speed alongside hers.
"No, it only looks like a light snowfall."
"That's not what I meant." Tryndamere nodded his head back towards the covered sleigh hitched to another pair of frost bison behind them. "He's a lot quieter this time than he was on his way out."
The unspoken question didn't go unnoticed to Ashe whom, having spent enough time with Tryndamere, had come to appreciate that he respected her tendencies of keeping to herself. He asked questions without actually voicing them, leaving them on her terms to answer if she wanted to.
"I perhaps... may have given him a piece of my mind."
Tryndamere guffawed, "I don't believe it. You? Queen he-arranged-an-act-of-treason-but-I'll-make-him-a-council-member Ashe? That certainly sounds out of character."
"Well he should do better than insult one of my Oathbound." Ashe replied indignantly, knowing how childish their banter sounded. She enjoyed having someone around that she could relax a little with. It was unfortunate that they were not romantically compatible, life would be too convenient that way.
"I should be flattered her majesty thinks so highly of me." Tryndamere replied, easily tossing the proverbial conversational ball back. "Though I'm sure she's well aware that I couldn't care any less as to what a bunch of stuck up old folk think of me or my people. Frankly, I'm surprised you even bothered. What was the straw that broke the frost boar's back?"
"Fraternising with Noxians was the charge. That and your so-called embarrassing performance on the fields."
"Bah, my sword saw more blood than the rest of the Demacians combined."
"And the Noxians? You surprise me with your willingness to associate with them despite past transgressions."
"The drink brings people together indiscriminately. It doesn't mean the past is forgiven, nor forgotten. We were merely at a moment of peace. We will continue to be at odds on the fields." If only things were as simple as Tryndamere was making it out to be. "Though I have to say, they are quite good drinkers. I almost lost to the Sinister Blade."
"From the looks of it, she did not seem like she was much better off than you."
"She definitely was acting strange the next day. She said something about me committing treason? And she couldn't seem to remember that she had seen you the previous night. Babbling incoherencies, really. Maybe Freljordian spirits are better suited for stronger stomachs."
"That still doesn't explain as to why I found you practically strangling her."
"I assumed the worst, since the last I saw you was in the presence of a drunk Noxian."
Ashe mulled the new information over, trying to ignore the rolling she felt in her gut. It would seem that Katarina remembered that night differently up until confronted about it by Tryndamere. It didn't really change anything in the end, or the fact that Ashe had spent the previous days stressing about whether pretending nothing was amiss and leaving Katarina to her own devices back at the institute was the best choice. Who knew what would happen while she was away? Worst case scenario would be Swain would be told, and that information was in far more dangerous in his hands. However, she did take a minute about of amusement from imagining what it would have felt like for Katarina to think she had slept with Tryndamere.
"And you are not worried for your reputation?"
"I am not the one with a nation on my shoulders. We may share the burden but we both know that all eyes are not on me. Whatever I do, no matter what the crockety old rat says, doesn't mean a thing." Tryndamere shot her a sympathetic look. "When do you ever get to do something for yourself instead of pleasing others?"
'You would be surprised.' Ashe pressed her lips together, feeling a frown forming as the thought passed. Since when did she consider sex with Katarina a self indulgence? Indeed, the event was a form of stress relief that caused an unduly amount of stress in itself, but self indulgence was surely a stretch. Still, there was no denying that the Sinister Blade was indeed attractive, no one would disagree with that. Even Ashe, with all her devotion to her cause, had to admit that the redhead infuriatingly caught her eye on more than one occasion.
Tryndamere took the silence as a cue to end the conversation, knowing not to push the subject, and trained his vision back to the landscape ahead. The rest of their journey was made in a comfortably familiar silence.
Arrival at Rakelstake was an opposite story, as the pair was immediately caught up in a flurry of commotion. Reports flooded in with updates that Ashe hadn't yet received on the road, many requiring her immediate attention. She was allowed a brief moment of reprieve from the bombardment when she was greeted by Braum in his usual fashion of reception by sweeping her up in his massive arms in a tight hug. The news he brought, however, was far more somber.
There were more attacks on the north-east border of villages, the Winter's Claw was ruthless this season. They pillaged supplies, destroyed homes; Many felt as if they had no choice but to join Sejuani to survive. Ashe gnawed gently on a callous on her thumb, considering her options. She fought the frustration that rose to her heart. If only Sejuani didn't insist on remaining so stubborn. They could share supplies, establish trade routes to the eastern portion of the territories and no one would have the need to fight for survival.
Ashe called for a meeting, damage control needed to be done. The lack of supplies in the raided villages were a serious concern, especially with winter looming on the horizon. At the very least, when the season hit in full force, the Winter's Claw would not attack in the foul weather that kicked up, as it made most the mountainous passes between the regions near impossible to pass through safely. Part of the council argued to leave the villages to their own devices. "They're doomed." They would say, as the agricultural reports were compared. There wasn't much to spare for aid, and they wanted to cut their losses in the form of human lives.
It was late in the evening before Ashe was able to reach an agreement: They would send the necessary supplies, shorting from Rakelstake's stores. Tryndamere and a some supplementary forces would accompany the goods, both to provide protection until winter arrived, and as a symbol of good grace for the ransacked villages in sending the King to oversee in their restructuring. There was still the matter of filling the deficit incurred in the sending of the goods. It was inevitable that they would need outside help: Ashe would thereby return to the Institute in a week's time with Braum to participate in prize matches. With everyone at least somewhat satisfied, the meeting was brought to an end, and Ashe was finally allowed to retire for the evening.
Ashe roused with a start, sleep evading her once again. Her heart racing as she caught her breath, sweat glazing her brow. She kicked off the thin sheets, drawing herself to the edge of the bed as the lingering feelings of the hands in her dream ghosted across her skin, causing her to shudder. She must have been a sight to see, she thought, thanking the fact that Tryndamere didn't share quarters with her here back home; It was easier to play the part of a loving royal couple to outsiders, rather than explain the complex culture of oathbound and how it differed from their concept of marriage.
It wasn't out of place for her to be having dreams, nightmares were quite frequent actually, but the ones she had been plagued with as of late were of the strangest sort. She had dreams of her night with Katarina, some of it lifted from the actual events, and some seemed to be mere constructs of things that never transpired. Stranger still were that sometimes they would combine with her usual nightmares of black corrupted ice to create some sort of weird perverse horror for her to experience. Either way, however her dreams presented themselves, they more frustratingly had one thing in common. She couldn't seem to get that redhead with her infuriatingly cocky grin out of her mind.
Ashe let out a small groan of annoyance, and got up to change into something more outdoor appropriate. If she wasn't going to be able to sleep, perhaps a short excursion would do her well in clearing her head. She knew she had been attracted to Katarina a long time ago, a detail she kept locked away on the account that nothing would ever happen of it. They met with one another mostly as opponents on the fields, killing each other over and over again for glory. Occasionally though, they did fight on the same side when on loan for gold to other regions, usually Bilgewater, not caring for who they could get. She discovered that Katarina was as witty as they come, and that there was far more lurking behind the facade of that of a cold-hearted killer. She had come to respect that, and in time, had almost come to fear it, knowing that her curiosity in wanted to know more about Katarina wanted to be sated and how dangerous that would be for her. It was far easier to keep people at arm's length, that way there was no risk of subterfuge. Attraction was the fast route to being stabbed in the back. In this case, it could mean literally.
An archer who had obviously been laid back in his post immediately snapped to attention when he noticed Ashe approach.
"Drengmóðir." His young freckled face coloured as he shifted nervously under her gaze.
"I am going for a morning walk."
The young guard looked to his companions standing stiffly nearby, they all matched his confused look. The sun hadn't even begun to crest over the horizon, this late into the year it wouldn't even show for at least several more hours.
"W-well of course Dróttning. It's just, it's not safe for anyone to traverse alone, let alone... well…" the guard trailed off, clearly unsure if he was overstepping boundaries. "Well, we just want to make sure you'll be safe."
Ashe offered him a brief smile. "Very well. You will do." She made to continue out the gates.
The guards all looked hurriedly at one another. There were some hushed whispers, followed by less than subtle nudges before the same freckled one that spoke scurried after her.
They walked for a while in the dark, the snow crunching beneath their boots the only thing breaking the silence. The youth walked several paces behind her, looking every bit like a nervous pup. Hours passed before the first rays of light slowly began to paint the landscape. Ashe led the way up craggy slopes, making winding turns all the while. Finally she stopped at one of the many forks in the road.
"You will wait here for me."
The warrior looked at her with the same expression he gave her earlier. "But-"
"That is an order."
His shoulders dropped, defeated. "Yes Drengmóðir."
Ashe softened her features. The boy could not have been any less than a decade her junior. "What is your name?"
"My name? Um…" he stumbled over his words at the turn of conversation. "It's Alfrothul."
"I will only be just a moment, Dreng Alfrothul. I promise to return, I just need you to stand guard here. Will you be able to do that for me?"
The boy nodded fervently. Ashe offered up a quiet thanks and continued on her way alone, taking a sharp turn off the path as soon as she was out of sight.
Though the way was along an unbeaten path, and she hadn't traversed it in many years, she still knew exactly where to go. Soon enough she found the entrance she was seeking, a cave hidden on the rough element hewn rock face. A solid wall of true ice sealed the entrance a few metres within its mouth. Ashe reached out, the ice crumbled away beneath her hand, and reformed itself once more the moment she was safely beyond its threshold.
Avarosa's cairn stood the same as she had last seen it; The stacked boulders of true ice adorned with runic inscriptions proudly centred in the middle of the chamber. Ashe approached, leaving footsteps behind in the frost dusting the glacier-like floors, providing little glimpses into the depths below. She knew that somewhere under the layers of ice, Avarosa's body slept. This was her final resting place.
As Ashe stepped closer, she summoned Avarosa's bow, it appeared in a burst of cold wind and frost, crystallizing from her palms outward towards the ends of its limbs. She placed the bow on the top most stone, where she had originally found it years ago. There was no glow or crackling force of magic, unceremoniously unlike when she had first picked up the artefact. Just silence.
Feeling a little silly, Ashe lowered herself to sit in front of the makeshift altar. She didn't even know why she came here in the first place. It wasn't as if a several century old grave of a leader long gone could tell her how to solve all her problems and be a better queen.
She didn't know how long she sat there with her heart in turmoil, time made no sense without the sky or a Piltovan timepiece.
"You chose wrong." Her voice echoed in the chamber, bouncing around in ice coated walls.
No response. Of course there wouldn't be. It was just her. It had always been.
She picked up the bow again, leaving the chamber feeling no more enlightened than she did entering it.
She found Alfrothul exactly where she left him, standing look out with a diligence that had been lacking when she had first met him. A nod in greeting and they were off again, the young archer leading their way back home.
It was coming into mid afternoon when Rakelstake's crystal spires twinkled into view. Ashe placed a gentle hand on Alfrothul's shoulder, halting his step. She pointed ahead, slightly off the path, to a small herd of mountain goats foraging moss nearby. It seemed their fortune was not so bad after all. Ashe quickly pulled her wooden bow off her shoulders and deftly strung it. True ice arrows would only ruin the flesh. She motioned for Alfrothul to flank the herd, he nodded and darted around, using the landscape as cover.
She took a short moment to line a shot up and let her arrow fly, it whistled through the air and landed cleanly in the neck of a large ram. The beast bucked, its bleat strangled by the blood pouring out of its wound. The herd immediately scattered, taking for the woods. Ashe let loose another arrow, the shaft embedded deeply into the poor creature's eye, putting it out of its misery. She watched as another arrow came from opposite her, downing a smaller goat. She had to give the youth credit, he was a good shot.
Ashe examined the kills as they trussed them up. This would temporarily help the food shortage at Rakelstake, the meat would last a while if salted and preserved, and their coats looked healthy, good for winter furs. She watched in amusement as the boy attempted to tug the larger ram by the ropes. The boy was small, built of wiry muscle. Still, it was a rather large ram and it would be hard to move for someone of his stature, especially without a sled. Ashe bent down, bracing herself as she lifted the weight of the corpse across her shoulders.
"Distribute the weight evenly, it will be more manageable that way."
Ashe felt her heart break a little when Alfrothul look at her with an expression of abject admiration. He followed her instructions with the smaller goat.
"Come. We are nearly home."
Ashe ran hard, her heart pounding in her chest. The rapid footsteps behind her an indicator of how close her pursuers were behind her. She vaulted over a log, the familiar sound of blades landing solidly into wood followed suit just moments after. She didn't spare a backwards glance, the crystalline hawk circling above provided her with enough of a view as she would need. Ashe banked left, and grabbed a low hanging branch. She used her momentum to swing herself up into the branch, turning just in time to release an ice arrow. The arrow impacted with the spinning axe a mere metre away, redirecting its trajectory. The enchanted executioner's axe spun backwards directly into Draven's hand. He whirled the weapon around showily, stroking his greasy goatee with his other hand. The scaly silhouette of Renekton joined his side.
"Come on down Princess, it's only a matter of time."
Ashe didn't respond to the taunt, only leaping up to a higher branch. Draven lazily tossed an axe in her direction, not looking the least bit surprised when she deflected with another arrow. He made a motion at her perch with his head, looking at Renekton pointedly. The Shuriman charged forward, growing in bulk as sand seemed to gather and swirl around him when there wasn't any just moments before. He hit the trunk with a resounded thunk, his curved blade carving a neat cleft in the bark. Ashe hopped to the next tree branch, barely managing to dodge another spinning axe.
She was going to run out of places to jump to soon. She was cornered. This match wasn't going very well, the opposing team had pushed them to defend in their own territories, their portions of the jungle were no longer safe.
The tree shook heavily as Renekton snarled, and splintered the wood with his shoulder. The impact loosened the archer's footing, and she slipped off the branch. Ashe hissed as she felt her skin scrape across the bark when she grabbed at the branch again, barely managing to hang on. She kicked out blindly, feeling Renekton's jaws snapping at her ankles.
Draven cackled wickedly and prepared to throw another axe, only to be interrupted by a loud resonating roar. They all knew the roar of the elder drake, but they would not normally hear it this far out from its lair. A large shadow passed overhead and another deep roar shook them to their cores, moments before a swath of fire erupted at Draven's feet. Ashe glanced up to see the elder drake hovering overhead, with Braum astride its back, blood pouring from his temple.
"Have no fear! Braum is here!"
She allowed herself a quick moment to be impressed in his taming of the beast, before letting go. Her boot struck Renekton directly in the nose, and she used the impact to vault backwards out of the way. She had cleared a short distance, narrowly getting out of the way for Braum to come cometting from the skies, his large shield slamming into the ground. Ice erupted from the impact, lacerating everything in its path. Renekton now a decoration piece for the ice wall that formed. Ashe shot an arrow through his forehead for good measure.
With the ice wall separating them from Draven, the two turned towards their base. Ashe spared a glance backwards, to see the moment the light left Braum's eyes when Katarina slit his throat. Ashe's arrow whipped through the purple smoke left behind as Katarina disappeared from atop Braum's shoulders. His body collapsed lifeless to the ground, but Ashe paid it no notice, her eyes scanning he foliage for a sign of his slayer. She pressed her back to the rock face behind her, the tension in her bow pulled tight. At the sound of rustling to her right, she snapped into motion, a volley of arrows scattered outwards. Katarina spat out a curse when arrow pierced her shoulder, effectively pinning her to the tree behind her. Ashe raised her bow, another arrow trained directly at the redhead.
"Welcome back, princess." Katarina snarked.
Ashe released the arrow. Katarina squeezed her eyes closed, preparing for a death blow that never came. The frosted arrow passed by Katarina's ear, drawing blood at her cheek, and continued on, straight into Draven's open mouth, clearly preparing for another smart quip as he approached. Ashe almost felt sorry for him as he choked on his own blood, his flesh singed by fire and rended by dragon talons.
Katarina took the opening granted to her, and grabbed the arrow in her shoulder, snapping it in half. Wielding the splintered ice like a blade, she slashed viciously. Ashe dodged and weaved desperately, avoiding each attack. Katarina vaulted upwards, jumping impossibly high, throwing the broken arrow like a dart at the peak of her arc. Landing on her feet, she didn't allow the defending archer any time to recover, as she drew her blades, diving forward again in a frenzy of strikes.
Ashe countered the attacks blow for blow with her bow, cold shards showering everywhere as steel ground against ice, but she knew she had to switch tactics soon, she couldn't hope to match Katarina in close quarters combat for long. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Katarina caught her off balance, a poorly timed block left her open for a follow up. The upwards slice sent her bow spinning out of her grip. A kick followed suit, and Ashe found herself on her back, the press of a knife against her throat. Was that blood on her neck? Or the melting ice dribbling water down the length of the blade?
"Should have shot me first."
Ashe felt her traitorous heart flutter at their proximity. She pushed the feelings down, gritted her teeth, and grabbed at Katarina's dagger hand. Katarina let out a sharp yell as Ashe willed the temperature to drop beneath her grip. She shoved the surprised assassin off, and scrambled to her feet.
The pair faced off, neither breaking eye contact. Ashe briefly noted that Katarina had switched her knife to the other hand. Not that it really mattered, she fought Katarina enough times to know that she wielded her blades in both hands with equal skill.
Katarina made to close the distance, vanishing from before Ashe's sight. She ran through hasty calculations, she knew Katarina's patterns from thousands of fights. She took into consideration the density of the nearby trees and her own blind spots. An attack from behind, it was the most logical choice. She whirled around, drawing the knife at her belt to parry. Both combatants eyes widened in surprise to see the Freljordian knife's blade extended wickedly by a layer of ice. Ashe's mastery of ice magic was still rudimentary at best, but in moments of strife, she managed to surprise even herself.
Ashe swept a low kick, taking Katarina's feet from under herself. The assassin recovered quickly with a back flip. This time, Ashe was ready to strike, plunging her dagger back into the wound her arrow had originally tore into Katarina's shoulder.
Katarina yelled, stumbling backwards on her feet. Ashe took the momentary opening to re-summon her bow in a flurry of ice crystals. A single frozen arrow trained directly at Katarina's heart.
Ashe wasn't quite sure if she imagined the impressed look on the other woman's face before she took the shot.
If there was one luxury Ashe's enjoyed in the Institute, it would be the fancy bathrooms. A private bathing space with peace, quiet, and a massive tub. If anything, she needed it more here than back home. Ashe leaned back, letting the water take away the soreness of the day's battles. She had participated in no less than a dozen prize matches, fighting battle after battle until her body finally could take no more of the fatigue. She hated how much of a spectacle the league's matches had become. The whole world watched these matches, even the prize matches, while champions fought. Betting was rampant, sides were taken, illusion magic used to change their appearance was commonplace, it was no more than a mere sport to some. And to others like herself, they fought for the livelihood of their nations. She had no choice than to have more eyes on her than ever before for the survival of her people.
Today's matches were a mixed bag, some great victories, some crushing losses. It helped that Braum participated in his fair share, their pooled winnings were then immediately negotiated with the Institute of War for food stores and winter supplies. Still, it was a good start.
Ashe blinked her eyes open, feeling something amiss. There was a sound coming from the other side of the closed door. Ashe quietly pulled herself up from the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, her other hand gripping the dagger she left nearby. Whomever the other person was, they weren't going though the trouble of trying to make themselves quiet. Ashe swung the door open, knife at the ready.
The figure on the opposite side of the room paused their rummaging through her hextech ice box, and straightened, bottle in hand.
"Katarina."
The redhead smiled, and took a swig of the bottle. Tryndamere's Mosikiældavín.
"What are you doing here?"
Without offering a response, Katarina vanished, reappearing once more in Ashe's face. She expertly twisted the knife out of her grip, and once again, Ashe found herself with a blade to her throat, at Katarina's mercy.
"How much would it cost to keep your mouth shut about our last meeting?"
Ashe stared calmly back at the green eyes that regarded her, only vaguely aware that she was garbed in nothing but a towel.
"What makes you think I have not already sold your reputation to Demacian intelligence?"
The blade at her throat was pressed slightly harder. Katarina's eyes roamed her face, as if looking for something. She let out a harsh monosyllabic laugh.
"You're good. I can't tell if you're joking or not."
Ashe considered this. It was clear that Katarina didn't want this information known as much as Ashe did. And from the sounds of it, she hadn't told anyone else either. The threatening manner was also a bluff, there was far more to lose in murdering another champion than just her reputation. It was also good that Katarina had no idea what Ashe's own reputation meant for her.
"That depends how much you want me to be joking." She couldn't make it seem like it would be too easy to shut her up.
"Two thousand gold." Ashe fought to keep a straight face. Two thousand gold was not anything to sneeze at. "A little birdy mentioned you've been participating in a lot of prize matches since you've come back. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."
Katarina tucked Ashe's wet hair off the side of her face with the blade in her hand. Ashe held her breath a moment and slowly released it.
"You have yourself a deal Sinister Blade."
Katarina smiled a wicked smile, and released Ashe. "Very good. I'll have the funds prepared." She stalked around to Ashe's other side, still not breaking eye contact.
"Is there still something you need?"
"I don't know. Is there?" Ashe didn't miss the lilt in her tone. "You know, despite all the mess it's made for me, I think we can both agree it was still pretty… fun." The last word trailed from Katarina's mouth right by Ashe's ear. She could smell the familiar heady scent of the Mosikiældavín on her breath.
Ashe felt her face flush. Was Katarina propositioning her? Just after buying her silence?
"Surely you are joking."
"I don't joke. Like I said, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours." Katarina dead panned. Then she let her trademarked grin crack her facade. "Still as ice cold as ever. What happened to the woman under me just a few weeks ago?"
"I have not the slightest clue what you mean." Contrasting her words, Ashe felt a familiar warmth begin to settle in the pit of her belly.
"Oh come now, stop pretending. Nobody's watching." Katarina brought her face closer, light green eyes flashing through a curtain of lashes, looking almost as if they were glowing in the low light. "I just want to peel back the layers and see what makes you tick."
Ashe felt warm fingers gently trace the side of her jaw. She swallowed hard as the heat in her belly sunk lower, now very aware that she was completely naked. Katarina too seemed notice this same fact, and purposefully pressed her body closer to Ashe's, her face mere centimetres away.
"And I just can't tell what exactly it is about you that interests me. Now that I have a taste of the fact that there's a wilder side, I just have to see more." Katarina's tongue darted out, just a moment, and licked Ashe's lower lip lightly. Ashe's breath hitched in her chest, her heart pounding a rapid rhythm alongside it.
Katarina chuckled and pulled back, that oh-so cocky grin still alight in her features.
"It can be our secret. Why don't you just let go?" With that last remark, Katarina finally brought her lips against Ashe's. The temperature difference was stark. Even though she felt like she was burning up inside, it was nothing compared to the sensation against her lips.
It was slow at first, but she found herself ravenous for more. She began to kiss back with a ferocity that surprised even her, her hands roaming to find purchase in Katarina's red mane. She partially registered the towel dropping to the floor at some point, but the thought departed her when Katarina's nails clawed at her back.
Ashe's voice left herself in a gasp when Katarina stopped to refocus her attention to suckling her neck. In turn, Ashe's nimble fingers helped relieve the assassin of her jacket. Ashe maneuvered her foot behind Katarina's knee, Katarina's eyes widened in surprise when she found the tables turned between them once again, now she was the one pinned to a wall.
"That's what I'm talking about."
Ashe smirked, and returned the favour, biting roughly at Katarina's unprotected neck, taking satisfaction in every gasp and grunt. She was no longer Ashe, Queen of Freljord, Frost Archer, Champion of the League. She left it all behind in this moment, away from the eyes of everyone. Here she was just Ashe, as affirmed by the name gasping from that ever so frustrating mouth.
She let everything go, and felt everything else but the moment melt away.
Oh yay I finished a thing. This will probably end and stay as-is. If I wanna pursue more of these two, I'll do a new thing. For now, this is considered done. Yay!