Hello everyone and welcome to another chapter of IHIE.

First off, I'd like to thank all of you for reading my story, especially those of you who reviewed! You guys are my primary reason for using the time allocated for my recreation to work on this instead. Ofcourse, this is a form of recreation as well. I'm very happy to say that this story has already gathered 1320 views, 14 favourites, 32 alerts and a whopping 27 reviews! Wow, that's alot. Hopefully this will get as many views as my other two stories, Darkness Rising and The Shadow that watches [approx 30k views].

Also, to Leli; I didn't write the story in bold font and it doesn't show up as such in the web page. But I've noticed this error occuring when viewing the story in cell phones, for some reason. I dunno, it happens randomly.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the story!

In her Icy Embrace

Chapter 2: How he learned.

His eyes first landed on the now familiar couch in the living room which acted as a common space between his and Lissandra's room as they entered. As soon as the door behind them closed, Alan turned around to face Lissandra. "You're hurt. You need to take care of those injuries first."

Lissandra turned to look at him, her single visible eye focusing on him. He focused on her visible eye as well, noting how it looked distant and had the slightest tinge of sorrow within its azure depths. The color of the eye itself wasn't just blue either. Whereas Alan's eyes were icy blue, rimmed with silvery white so that it was a very bright color, her eyes were a darker and slightly duller shade of periwinkle, slightly sinister but mainly mysterious; like a door behind which untold secrets lay. A door which no one had reached towards before.

They hadn't realized they had been staring at each other until Lissandra blinked, turning her head away from him. Alan just noticed now that Lissandra was just an inch shorter than him. He didn't have to look down at her, but with her imposing aura always swirling around her, she had looked bigger than him at first. Now, as she was weary and worn after a battle, she looked like a regular woman, aside from her blue skin.

"Tch, It's nothing serious." She scoffed, trying to put off his worries with an air of arrogance and nonchalance, like she was gesturing that 'Yeah, I've had much worse than this!'

"Serious or not, You need to get that looked at." Alan said with a new firm tone in his voice that he hadn't known he had before. Lissandra seemed slightly surprised by it as well, looking up at him in a slightly surprised way before nodding. She retreated to her room without another word, as Alan took a few steps back and plopped down on the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted. He drew the small black broken sword from a belt hoop of his pants, which he had turned into a make-shift mount, and inspected it.

Like he had first laid eyes on it, it was both beautiful and tragic. Elegant yet flawed. Complete, yet broken.

Just like a certain woman you have come to know.

Alan shook his head to clear it of thoughts about Lissandra, focusing on the sword instead. He ran his hand down the side of the black sword, feeling the etching that was drawn into the side of the blade. It was in an ancient language that he did not recognize, probably the same language that most of the Iceborn knew. But he recalled what Reinhart had called the sword. It took him a few seconds to perfectly recall it, but when he did, he felt it on the tip of his tongue, waiting to spring out. But he felt like once he said its name, he'd cross a door he would not be able to go back through again. Hardening his resolve, as always, Alan took a step through the door and into the unknown.

"Frig Ascutis." He murmured. The sword seemed to pulse within his hands, like it was reacting to him saying it's name. It was slightly bemusing that the sword did not burn him…. Did that mean?

Gently, Alan lowered the sword onto the coffee table infront of him, standing up before walking over to one of the large pieces of dark ice which provided light. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand, reaching out for it, his pale hand shaking slightly with trepidation. If he turned out to be wrong in his guess, he'd receive a very painful burn, as both Lissandra and Reinhart had warned him about. Once again, Alan's explorer instincts gave him the shove that came from the push.

He thrust his hand forward the last few inches, so he palmed the ice, wincing instinctively. But it wasn't burning his hand. On the contrary, it felt like anything cold or freezing felt to him; just mildly cold. Pleasantly so. He began running his hand over it, like it was a living creature, petting it as a small smile of accomplishment broke into his face.

The door to Lissandra's room opened without a sound again, but he felt her presence when it did so he turned around to look at her then raised an eyebrow. She was wearing a loose blue dress, full sleeved and reaching down to the floor as usual, with light blue intricate designs on the hems. The V neck had crisscrossing string on it like a corset, pulling it closed down to her stomach, although it opened up high enough to reveal part of her collar bone. Above that, was a scarf. She had wrapped a scarf around her neck and head and face like a hooded mask, keeping her features hidden from him. Only her eyes, blue and slightly sparkly, was revealed to him as they glanced at him before she moved briskly to the mannequin. She placed her cracked and damaged armor on it and the mannequin suddenly glowed once. Infront of his eyes, the broken parts of the armor began to fix themselves. It was a very slow process, however, perhaps millimeter by millimeter. Afterwards, Lissandra walked over to one of the sofas and took a seat, gesturing for Alan to join her. He did, sitting down on the one opposite to her, taking the sword into his hands again.

"May I?" Lissandra asked, holding a hand out as Alan nodded, extending the sword, hilt first, to her. She took it, raising it up to inspect it.

"It's called Frig Ascutis, right?" He asked. Lissandra nodded. "It's written in the Ancient Language. It's translation would be Cold Edge, as in, the Cold Edge of Death or perhaps just because it is one of the coldest weapons in existence." She explained as Alan raised an eyebrow.
"Well, why hasn't anyone used it before?" He asked.

"Only a Cryomancer can wield it. You need to have the power to freeze the air around the sword to complete it's blade, like you did when Ashe fired arrows at you." She said, eyes narrowing at the name.

"Why don't you wield it?" He asked. Lissandra's eyes darkened as well as narrowed, then she averted his gaze, as if she was slightly ashamed and bitter. "The sword rejected me."

Alan didn't pry further, instead choosing to remain silent for a few moments before another question came into his mind.

"Wait… I thought the Winter's Claw and the Avarosans were also at war with each other?" He asked, frowning as he looked up at Lissandra. Her eyes darkened with distaste as she said, "Yes. That's what everyone thought as well. Guess they knew who the bigger threat was and joined together to try and take me out first." Alan could almost see her smile bitterly under the mask.

"So… What now?" He asked as Lissandra looked up at him, giving him a few moments of silence to elaborate. "Er… I mean, now that I've drawn this frozen Excalibur, what happens to me?" He said as Lissandra's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"As I first thought, you're smart enough to not let anything past you. Well, now that you've drawn a sword of legends, you are most likely the only one who could help us win this war. Help me take my rightful place as queen." Lissandra said.

"Well, that'll be a problem, seeing as how I have absolutely no combat training or experience. Nor can I conjure up ice like you do." Alan said, somewhat disappointed in his lack of ability. The way the corner of Lissandra's eyes moved, Alan knew with certainty that she was smiling. "Well, it's a good thing we have people who can help you get better."

Alan perked his head up. Ever since he was a young boy, he wanted to wield a sword. To be someone. To be a legend or a hero. Now, every dream he had about those was presented to him in an icy platter and it suddenly seemed like so much. It seemed overwhelming, like facing one of Piltover's freight carriers speeding at you on the flux lines. Yet again, Alan's instincts, the instinct that made him sign up to be an explorer, the instinct that led him through his life upto this point, won out again. The instinct of taking the jump and not looking back.

The resolve hardening within him was visible in his eyes as Alan stood up abrubtly, Lissandra herself taken aback momentarily.

"What do I have to do?" Alan asked. Lissandra smiled again, knowing that she had just successfully secured someone who could just help her win this war against those wretched Avarosans and the barbarians. Little did Alan know, he had just walked right into Lissandra's plans of using him.

…

"Again." Reinhart said as Alan panted, sweat running down his body. He was shirtless, his top thrown onto the floor outside the sparring square, already drenched with sweat. His body was what was expected of a 24 year old explorer; athletically fit, lean muscles making up most of his body, the slightest signs of a 4-pack peeking through his slim abdomen. He held a wooden sword out infront of him with both hands, his grip unsteady as his great heaving breaths wracked his body, making his hands sway up and down with each gasp. Reinhart was standing absolutely still, like he wasn't even breathing, a wooden sword held lazily up in one hand.

Too late; Reinhart darted forward, dashing past Alan and smacking the wooden sword on the back of Alan's right leg. Alan hissed in pain, being forced down to one knee as Reinhart spun around right behind Alan, bringing the sword around. He turned the sword at the last second, so the flat side of the sword smacked against Alan's already sore left side. It was still hard enough to throw Alan off of his unstable kneel, the explorer falling down onto the mat with a groan of pain, not knowing where to clutch as every part of his body hurt. He had probably been bruised everywhere as Reinhart turned and regarded him coolly. "You know that if you don't attack me, I'll come at you." The man said as Alan forced himself onto his front, bracing his hands on the padded floor.

"How long… are we gonna… keep this up…?" Alan said through gritted teeth, speaking inbetween pained hisses of breaths as he slowly forced himself up. Unsteadily, he got up, bringing the sword up and getting into the basic stance Reinhart had showed him. Both hands gripping the hilt, held out infront of him at waist level, the sword tilted forward just a bit, legs spaced out, right foot forward.

"We're gonna go at it until you learn or until you pass out." Reinhart stated simply as Alan focused on the man infront of him. Maybe this time, he would succeed. After all, every story he read in his days spent at the library, he found that the protagonist would always learn it after getting knocked down 20 times. Wasn't he the protagonist of his own story? He felt a rush of energy inside of him. Surely, he would do it this time.

He charged with a roar of triumph and a few seconds later, he dropped onto his back on the ground, his sword skittering away from him as he tried to inhale to replace the air that was knocked out of his lungs. Reinhart was still standing where he had stood, his left leg still raised with the knee bent slightly from having used it to counter Alan's charge.

"Reckless. You charge like that again, your opponent will simply let you run into his sword instead of his knee." Reinhart stated as Alan groaned, feeling like his stomach had liquefied from the kick. Again, Alan turned around to his front, flopping down like a fish before he began pushing himself up.

"Well, I'll give you this; You're stubborn." Reinhart said as he watched Alan stand up again, this time supporting himself with his hands on his knees to force himself to stand straight.

"Thanks…" Alan muttered as Reinhart raised an eyebrow.

"That wasn't a compliment." He replied as Alan snorted through his nose in slight amusement.

This time, Alan cautiously watched Reinhart, falling into his stance. Right foot forward, left foot back… Right foot tense, slightly bent, use it as a pivot. Left foot loose, use it to step.

Reinhart charged, Alan seeing it this time as he used his right foot to kick off, taking a hurried step backwards to make Reinhart's slash miss, the wooden sword slashing the air infront of Alan, who had now turned his left foot into the forward pivot, seeing his chance at retaliation. He pushed forward with this back right foot, taking a stutter-step with his forward left foot as he slashed down at the Reinhart's extended sword.

The tip of his blade smacked Reinhart's sword right where the blade met the guard, the force jerking it out of Reinhart's hands as the sword clattered to the ground. Alan grinned at his successful disarming, until he remembered what Reinhart had said about skilled disarmed opponents not hesitating after they were disarmed. Alan raised his head just in time to see the spinning kick fly at his face.

Fu-

..

He groaned, waking up slowly as he first registered the comfortable bed he was lying in. Opening his eyes to the dark room, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, the dark ice lights in the room automatically brightening to illuminate the room. It took his battered mind to realize that he was in his room. To his right, on the end table beside his bed, a small flask with red liquid sat next to a small saucer and a teaspoon. The flask was half empty, so someone must've spoon fed him when he was asleep. From the slightly tangy taste of cherry and the minty taste of some herbal concoction, he figured that this was one of those healing potions that a lot of military organizations used to heal minimal to moderate injuries. For some reason, thinking about Reinhart kneeling beside him and spoon feeding him with a caring, loving, non-Reinhart expression on his face made Alan want to throw up.

The doors to his room slid open as Lissandra walked, or rather, floated in, her graceful movements always seeming surreal to him. She was still wearing the scarf, though it looked like it had been put on hastily as opposed to before.

"You're awake. I believe you feel okay now after a good rest?" She asked, her blue eyes inspecting him for injuries, though they lingered on his bared torso for a moment too long. She blinked as Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, thanks for patching me up again." Alan said nervously, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his head.

"Who said I was the one who patched you up?" Lissandra asked in a tone which seemed like…. Embarrassment? Was she actually shy?

"You didn't?" Alan asked, the slight twinges of horror making it's way into his mind, the image of a creepy Reinhart with a nurse hat on swimming into his mind.

"Uh… Yes, I did." Lissandra said, averting her eyes and suddenly taking an interest on the empty desk on the other side of the room. "It's not like I wanted to patch you up… I'm simply responsible for your well-being since you were forced into this when you were under my shelter…"

Alan could swear he saw a slight pink tinge under Lissandra's eyes, the slightest part of her cheeks visible through the scarf as his eyes widened slightly. Lissandra glanced at him again and noticed him staring at him, getting even more worked up as her shoulders went rigid. "Stop staring at me like that, you idiot!" She cried out in indignation, turning around and storming out of the room in embarrassment, her long white hair, which was undone, trailing behind her. Alan was still shocked at her sudden change in behavior. She had seemed like such a cold, focused woman…. And now, here she was, acting like a shy young girl. He blinked a couple of times, still frozen even though the doors had long closed, before he realized what he was doing. A flush crept up his own face, thank god he was alone now, as he plopped back down onto his bed, groaning.

…

[A/N: Sorry about that tsundere moment guys, I just had to do it xD ]

…

Lissandra was wearing her usual blue robe and mask. Like a switch, she had suddenly become cold and indifferent again, watching Alan impassively as he entered the special room that had been cleared out for his practice.

"So, we'll just pretend like today morning never happened?" Alan asked as Lissandra's lips thinned in a silent, displeased affirmation. Alan took up a position infront of her. Today, he was wearing clothes provided to him by one of the iceborn servants. He didn't see who it was, but found the clothes lain out on his desk. It was a loose blue top, half-sleeved for ease-of-movement. Long dark blue trousers covered his lower half, with a belt tied around the waist, a custom mount on the side so he can carry his sword with him. Currently ,it was right there, mounted on his left side.

"Cryomancy is an ancient branch of magic. As all ancients, it gathers power from 3 different sources." Lissandra said, raising her right hand, forefinger up. "A pool of magical energy stored within all beings called Mana. Most creatures have negligible amounts while the ones who actually have a usable pool tend to become mages."
She raised a second finger.
"Your emotions. It provides much greater power than your mana pool can provide and it goes as long as your willpower can take you. But it is also very unpredictable, and therefore, dangerous and hard to master."

Finally, she raised a third finger.
"The last source of energy you can gather for ancient magic is from items from the ancient times. Objects borne of such magic usually provide a huge source of magic for use, but these objects also have a limit, similar to Mana. Unlike Mana, however, these objects cannot recharge the energy taken from them, so the user must pour his own mana into the object for storage and later usage. Think of it like a reserve."

Lissandra lowered her face so she seemed to be looking at his sword.

"Frig Ascutis is one such item. Unlike Mana or Emotions, the power you can use from an item is not limited to your physical or mental form. You can unleash all the energy stored within the object at once, usually creating devastating power. I suggest you do not do so with Frig Ascutis, as it has been given the power of Iceborn present and past for the last few millennia."

Alan suddenly felt uneasy about the black, broken but beautiful sword resting on his hip. "Er… So you mean, Frig Ascutis has a huge storage of power?"

Lissandra gave a cold smile, "I'm saying that if you try to release all the power stored within this sword, you could just obliterate the entire Freljord in one giant release of power. But, use it sparingly, and it can become your greatest ally. However, you need to pour some of your own mana into it at the end of everyday, to keep it charged." She explained.

"How will I know if I run out of charge?" Alan asked as Lissandra seemed to roll her eyes behind her mask.
"I'll teach you a basic trick. But first, you need to reach deep inside of yourself…"

A minute later, Alan was sitting on the floor, cross legged, both of his hands resting on his knees on their respective sides, his eyes closed, back straight as he sought the pool of energy lying within him.

"It's there… I know it is there… You know it is there… All you need to do is find it… And set it free." Lissandra whispered, Alan suppressing a shudder at her breathy voice. It seemed like she was right behind him, her lips inches away from his ear as she spoke, but he couldn't lose focus yet.

He searched inside of him, searching for what she had described. Imagining that his body was a warm furnace, a desert while he sought an oasis within it, an oasis of icy cold water that would be his salvation… Reaching in…

There.

He found a cold spot within himself. Like a sphere, at the very center of his body. His mind's hand reached out for it, gently touching it with the tip of his mental fingers… And it exploded outwards.

Alan took a long, deep inhale as he felt the power reach out throughout his entire body, filling all his veins with a cool hum. He felt like he was a handicapped man suddenly growing back a limb, like a blind person finally being able to open his eyes and see. It felt so new… Yet felt so familiar. His eyes had opened but he hadn't realized it. Lissandra was standing infront of him, not moving at all. Her aura seemed… Surprised.

"Well. You must've used your mana before, haven't you?" She asked as Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Well.. I guess. I wasn't conscious of its existence before, but I have done some minor things that I think were magic… Like directing the flow of snow falling from the sky, or perhaps lowering the temperature around myself." He muttered, staring at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, flexing them and feeling them.

"That explains it… Although training with your magic is the only way to increase the total amount of mana that resides within you, the first time you use it, the mana becomes reactive. Then, the longer you go without using it, the more potent and stronger it gets. Right now, you're glowing almost as bright as your sword, though it's much smaller and not as strong." She said, nodding in a way that said that she was impressed. She was smiling as well, but not at his achievement but at the prospect that Alan was now definitely the key to her victory.

"Now what?" He asked.
"Now the basic trick. Simply close your eyes and will the cool energy within to cover your eyes like another layer." Lissandra dictated as Alan did so. "Then open your eyes."

He opened his eyes and his mouth fell open in surprise and awe. His normal vision was no longer normal. Everything had turned sort of dark, with contrasting outlines. The darkice lights glowed white from within and as he turned his head to Lissandra, he found her entire form lit up like a glowing silhouette in the dark vision.

"Wow, What am I seeing!?" He asked, staring at her with wide eyes. Lissandra couldn't help but smile at his amazement. "You're seeing energy."

Alan looked down at his own hand, seeing it burning brightly as well. But then, he looked down at his sword, which wasn't glowing, but it was blindingly white. He couldn't even stare at it without his eyes watering. He closed his eyes, opening them again to find his vision back to normal.

"This… Is awesome! I never knew another world existed like this, never knew I could do all of this!" He said, overflowing with awe as he turned around to Lissandra with a grin.

…

He was sweating again. This was as hard as the physical exercise he had to do with Reinhart, perhaps even moreso. No longer was it as magical as it had seemed.

"Harness the power. Keep your emotions in check, do not let them surface over your mana flow." Lissandra said calmly as Alan worked hard on keeping his focus, trying not to think about anything as he kept conjuring a ball of ice inbetween his hands. It had started out as the size of a speck and after 2 hours, was the size of a football.

The door opened and Alan was distracted momentarily, but he didn't lose his focus on the iceball though. He didn't really hear what conversation was exchanged between Lissandra and Reinhart, who was the one to have entered the room, until the door closed and his eyes glanced over to see Lissandra's lips tight in a grimace.

"What's wrong?" He asked absently.
"Just… Reinhart…" She muttered sourly.
"Don't you like him?"

"I do. He's a loyal and skilled soldier, worthy of his title… But he also has an uncanny interest in me."

"Wha-" The bit of information hit Alan harder than it should have, for some reason as his focus was lost.

"CONCENTR-" Lissandra started speaking, but it was too late. The ice ball shattered with the force of a small bomb, throwing Alan and Lissandra across the room from each other. Alan slammed into the floor, rolling over and sliding across the smooth floor, groaning in pain. He remembered that the explosion was focused more to what was in front of him instead of what was behind the ice ball, so Lissandra took the brunt of the explosion.

"Oh shit." He muttered, quickly scrambling up to his feet as he saw Lissandra lying on the ground , her white braided hair lying on the ground like an unmoving snake. He stumbled on his feet as his new bruises cried out, but he managed to make it over to her. Absently, he registered the entire room was covered in a layer of frost and ice, but he was now more concerned about Lissandra, who was lying unconscious under him on the floor.

"Lissandra! Are you okay? Lissandra!" He shouted, trying to wake her as he gripped her shoulders and shook her.
After a few seconds of trying, which seemed like a long time, Lissandra stirred, groaning as relief flooded Alan. "Thank god... I was worried I hurt you." Alan said.

"You did…. You idiot…" Lissandra muttered as Alan noticed a bruise already forming on her left elbow. Without thinking about it, he grabbed her elbow and instantly froze up in shock, Lissandra going rigid under his grip as well.

Strangely, the painful burn they expected…. Didn't happen. All Alan felt was her cold skin, slightly warm underneath the blue skin, yet pleasantly cool to the touch. They were both shocked into silence for Maker knows how long, but then, Lissandra suddenly shot up, standing up and briskly walking out of the room, leaving Alan in the room, who was still trying the digest the fact that he had touched her without burning himself. How much was the extent of his powers?

Only time would tell.

Don't really know what to say except for you guys to leave a review behind. More reviews mean I get more pressured into writing the story, so think of me like your very own hamster that you can persuade to do radical tricks, albeit a very sexy, very intelligent, very awesome and very narcississtic hamster ;3

See you guys next time!