Sejuani of the Winter's Claw was stretched out leisurely in a tall-backed stone chair; furs of a pale-furred beast from a previous hunt strewn across it for comfortable sitting. Even tall and broad as she was, the chair was immense, two heads taller than herself. The clinging cold of winter was barricaded away by the dense, wooden walls of the Feasting Hall, the air alive with excitement, lust, drunken joy - the warmth of celebration bathed everyone, coating them in a thin sheen of sweat. Many guzzled down ale by the barrel with ease; Sejuani had helped herself to three horns of their hardest stuff already. Her body tingled with liquor heat and the lingering of her brutal victories, the raiding she'd partaken in earlier still playing out in her mind with vivid beauty, a part of her craving more. Never before had she felt so elated. She was the true ruler of the Freljord now, and already she'd taken the neccesary steps to carry her frozen land to the precipice of power. It might take an entire lifetime, but her vision for the future would become reality.

The Warmother had been immersed in celebration since she'd returned home hours ago. Ale and wenches were abundant, and she'd gathered her strongest warriors and most loyal clansmen for a moderately private celebration, including Olaf, now relieved from duty protecting Sejuani's most precious burden: lovely Ashe of the Avarosans. Some of her greatest men and women were present, either sitting at the ceremonial feasting table or dancing on the large expanse of open floor available, hundreds of drinking warriors and shamans singing battle songs and drumming the tables in rhythm to the music with either hand or weapons, a steady thrum ringing out all around them like war cries.

Great plumes of fire were erected in three different hollows on the long, massive feast table, casting light across the hardened faces of all who leaned over it. Upon each of these burning pits a beautiful, naked figure writhed and glowed - dancing. Sejuani was enchanted by one of the three fire-dancers performing for her benefit, a woman so formidable in the work of ice magic that she could dance directly on hot coals without a wince, stumble, or burn; the enchanting, muscular female directly across from the Warmother was sashaying her tan-skinned, shapely body in a slow, primal way, her wide, alluring hips moving this way and that, her chest thrust out, naked, better to draw the attention of all who looked upon her. The troublesome dancer made eyes at her whenever their gazes met: it was obvious to anyone that she wanted to do far more than dance for her glorious leader, the big, scarred woman's feral grin encouraging her hungry, graceful motions and interest.

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh with your Queen?"

Sejuani, mid-way through shoveling juicy, bleeding meat down her gullet with her bare fingers, turned ice-storm eyes to the speaker, the man sitting directly to her left. He was one of her shamans, in fact, the most superior when it came to willpower and cunning, speed and veracity. A massive, burly man with rough skin and deep brown hair falling in dreads across his tattooed shoulders, Udyr was a truly formidable ally.

"Ashe is not my Queen yet, she's my prisoner," Sejuani replied, mildly amused. "Besides, she's not in the slave tents anymore, is she? And she's got a meal - I'm not going to reward her for mouthing off to me. I'd say I've been fairly nice to the bitch."

That should've been the end of it.

Udyr lowered his voice, speaking softly: "This is shameful, Sejuani. You love her, don't you? Don't answer. I know. When you stare at this beautiful dancer," he beckoned with one huge hand toward the naked, sashaying figure, brilliant in the fire she had learned not to fear. "- you do not feel it, do you? The thrill, the satisfaction."

The square-jawed woman sighed slowly, but said nothing. She didn't want to give him the truth, but she wasn't a liar, either. Of course she loved Ashe. She'd slaughtered many for the rights to her, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about Ashe's soft, silken laughter, the way she pressed close for a bit of warmth, the way she bit her lip and sighed when she wanted a kiss. Undeniably, they completed each other, but there comes a time when softness must be put aside - and she would not be soft in front of any of her men. Even Udyr.

"Then, listen to my advice, daughter… at least hear me out?"

The pair met eyes, and Sejuani tensed. Family was not a word she used lightly, or anyone in the Claw. After a moment of blazing eye contact, Udyr submissively bowed his head, smiling as if to say 'I lower my eyes in respect, loyalty, not fear'. This smiling man disappeared at a time she could barely remember. If she'd felt love, fatherly bonds with this man, she couldn't remember that time. His features, however, even after all this time… were unforgettable; they shared many traits: ice blue eyes, tall, broad bodies, unbreakable wills. It was with the very same blood in his massive form that she had conquered the land she'd desired since youth. Udyr was a true ally of the Claw: suddenly returning during her campaign against the Avarosans and their allies, he'd been by her side through most of it. Sejuani couldn't truly call him weak, he'd been pivotal in far too many battles, always roaring for her cause, rallying their people with as much vigor and passion as she did. He was a true, Freljordian-blooded Shaman, and he only ever offered advice when it was warranted.

Brooding, Sejuani sighed and shrugged one heavily-scarred shoulder. "Speak, old man."

Udyr seemed pleased at her restraint, eyes flashing with joy. The big, bearded shaman began to speak, "No hanging flank of steak on a hook could ever satisfy a true warrior, a hunter." He imposed upon her as they both gazed unseeingly at the dancer. "You thirst for worthy prey that will dance out of your reach, test your mettle - a hard-won prize. And even then… unless your conquest continues to challenge you, you will be left unsatisfied yet again."

"What is your point?" she grunted - even though she could see where this was going with clarity. That didn't mean she had to like it.

"My point? Believe me, my daughter, I know what it is to deny yourself what your heart desires. Part of that you get from me… and part of it you get from your mother." He rarely spoke of her. Sejuani listened more keenly, fists clenched. "I bet it feels like no haze of battle-lust, or number of willing, pathetic recipients of your purging of need, will ever take the place of the one who holds your heart… you can subjugate your future queen, spurn her affections, posture in front of our men… but you have to consider what kind of woman you want by your side in your future. A proud, strong woman who challenges you when you should be challenged? A woman with a back-bone and hope for our children who allows a gentle touch to occasionally soften and shape your steely will… or one you have broken so badly she is no longer the one you cared for?"

The white-haired barbarian stared, aching, across the feasting hall. He was right that compared to Ashe in her worst state, this beautiful fire dancer had all the appeal of a rotten carcass. Separated from everyone, the former queen sat alone, chained and proud, in a dark corner of the hall. She was under careful observation, from all but Sejuani, who had done her best all night to not look that way.

Ashe had been allowed to eat a proper meal as requested, but unlike the Winter's Claw, Avarosans found it terribly offensive to eat with your hands: so she'd been provided with nothing but them. Hunger will weaken the morals of anyone; the proud Avarosan woman hadn't been too proud to turn down a meal, she'd willingly devoured the sweet meats and crisp vegetables with her soft, pale hands. Seeing the loss of restraint made Sejuani ache at the same time it made a primal, hungry part of herself satisfied - the Claw in her fighting with the exact weakness Udyr was speaking of.

"My advice, Sejuani? Go to her. Take her away from here."

"The others would wonder where I went."

"Only you know you're soft on the woman. To the rest of us… you're just our Warmother, having a night with her beautiful, hardwon slave…"

Sejuani closed her pale blues. Perhaps his words were sensible. The heat of the fire lapped against her skin, the darkness of her eyelids shutting away all sight. The sound of revelry around her suddenly seemed to ring hollow. The harsh singing made her shiver as she pictured a different figure dancing on the fire before her.

Beloved Ashe, the incarnation of true, Freljordian beauty: soft skin untouched by the sun, kept buried under regal furs, pale white hair, so remarkable, so similar to Sejuani's. The eyes warm, ocean blue, the body shapely where it needed to be for harsh winter births. Sejuani craved her, wanted the woman by her side right now, but there was an order to these things…

Standing, she drained her horn, and tossed it down on the table with a loud crash. "I've had my share of spirits, but that doesn't mean the celebration should end." The white-haired warrior woman was tall, staring boldly out at her dancing, drinking, singing comrades. "Whoever drinks Olaf under the table gets an extra share of the next loot!"

At that, there was a great roar, even though it was likely impossible. Olaf managed to force a smile as great, brutish men began to assemble around him, some slapping their fists on their biceps, ready to meet the challenge. Satisfied, Sejuani nodded a polite thanks at her father, gave the disappointed fire dancer a wink, and walked over to the true target of her affections.

She glanced up at Sejuani as she approached, didn't say anything, merely waited and continued eating. Sejuani hadn't thought up what she wanted to say. Head hot with ale, her words slurred, her thoughts dripping and melting together to make a mess out of what she wanted to say. "You'll sleep with me tonight," Sejuani said abruptly, "you've been in the tents long enough."

Ashe continued to put scraps of food in her mouth, not saying a word, but her eyes said it all.

Sejuani knelt down, furs bundling up around her. She pushed Ashe's food aside and grabbed her by one arm, leaning close. "Ugh, your breath stinks, Sejuani," the former queen hissed, as Sejuani undid the chain tying her to a nearby post. She swept the Avarosan up into her arms bridal style, the protests blindly hitting her ears. "You're drunk. Put me down. I'd rather the "tents" then have to deal with you when you're like this."

So many words, yet her body seemed to relax into the strong, broad arms that held her. Few looked their way as Sejuani carried her out, toward the dense, well-crafted stone structure she and her top advisors called their living quarters at the other side of their temporary war camp.

Sejuani's quarters were more decorated than she liked at the moment, all the spoils of war she'd chosen for herself splayed out here and there. It was a temporary living space, she preferred to wander, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. Pillaged avarosan rugs were splayed out on the floor, the heads of various animals mounted on the walls. A massive, locked chest sat squat near the bed, covered in heaps of rich, dark furs.

"You pig , you barbarian, you coward!" The moment they were alone, Ashe's quiet untouchable act melted away. Like a thunderstorm, she went on the attack. Sejuani's rugged body easily soaked all the slaps and punches, she didn't even flinch when Ashe's pale hand flashed through the air, pain blossoming in her cheek. When none of that got a proper reaction, the former queen began to sob and scream in frustration, shoving at the tall woman's battle-scarred shoulders with all the effect of a wooden sword against an iron shield.

"I waited, I waited… and you took so long." Ashe hissed, her hands like unrelenting battering rams, but Sejuani's body was truly unyielding; as she felt the cool hands attempting to hurt her, the deepest, hungriest parts of herself cried out to put Ashe in her place. That was a part of who she was, it always had been: this hunger to claim, and nothing was more exciting to her than being denied something she'd already won. If the Avarosan truly wanted to hurt her, she'd go for Sejuani's eyes, her vitals… but she wouldn't do that. Couldn't. She was too weak, too gentle, too perfect.

The smoldering blue of Ashe's frightened, proud gaze made Sejuani feel alive. Her heart raced. This was the woman she'd fought for. Despite how it would be spoken of in legends, how it looked, every fight had been desperately fought. Many times they'd won against their enemies because of sheer luck, coming close to the brink of oblivion; they'd fought on though, surviving through battle after battle, cutting down hundreds, and then thousands. She'd only lived, fought, so that Ashe and her could be together like this. Every lonesome moment, every flicker of doubt, it was with this beautiful, angular face, proud-featured and chin angled up in defense, that had protected her from her at times childish, frightened thoughts.

Sejuani leaned down and put her hands on Ashe's hips. She forced her pregnant lifemate across the room, pushing her down on the bed and climbing on top of her so that her porcelain, muscular abdomen was pressed against the proud, roundness of Ashe's full belly. They looked so good, pressed together like this, and the throb steadily building between her legs spiked when Ashe gave her an angry look.

She inhaled deeply, running her mouth along Ashe's neck, feeling the weight of her round, soft breasts. They were bigger already, more evidence of the way she'd claimed this body as her own. Sejuani reached down, began to take off her lower furs and garments.

"Don't you even have the patience to wait a night to hurt me?" Feverish blue eyes locked together, the barbarian could merely shake her pale, shaggy-haired head. The teary, desperate expression on her face merely made the fire in her stomach burn brighter. Sejuani needed to be inside her other half, needed to feel their bodies melt together like ice gone tepid, feel Ashe flutter and squeeze, desperate words whispered against her ear.

"No, I can't wait," Sejuani admitted. "Again, I won't ever deny being an animal - I need you… I just need you, Ashe. More than anything in the world. I want to taste you, feel you, I want to stare into your eyes and fill you, want to make you drown in me."

Startled, Ashe fell into silence. Then, the pale-haired woman shook her head, laughing. "You- you're… you're unbelievable. You haven't even asked what name I've thought up for our child, haven't asked me if your people were kind while I was in their care, haven't-"

Sejuani reached out, placing a hand on Ashe's cheek. Her expression was very cold, very serious. "Ashe. I've been waiting so long for this… and so have you. I have no doubt you'll fight every step of the way, until the very end. But tonight… be an animal. Let yourself heal. Let me paint your insides with my love so that when I brutalize you tomorrow you'll know that I'm doing it for you. That I've done it all for you, and for the future of the Freljord…"

Ashe trembled. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, for it was impossible to withstand her hardened lover's piercing gaze. Those words, so many hidden meanings, so many lies, so much gentleness. It was all so confusing. Ashe felt like she might melt away if they met eyes for too long. "It would be so easy to give into your drunken demands, but I won't, Sejuani. I can't ." Staring at her other half, she prayed to her ancestors for a miracle, hoping a bolt of clarity and sensitivity might come down and strike some sense into the brute.

"What I need is for you to let me be. To let me have a night of peace and rest without wondering if I'll wake up in the morning. I want to sleep in a comfortable spot without waking up to aches and pains… please, Sejuani… its been so long since I've slept in a proper bed"

The ice-blonde raised her hands and combed her fingers into Sejuani's ragged, choppy locks, before drifting them down to cup the chiseled face she adored more than anything. For a moment, the two women merely regarded each other quietly. Then the proud warrior leaned into her touch like a wolf allowing itself to be pet, her hot, stiff member grazing the apex of Ashe's thighs. Tenderly, she stroked Sejuani's scarred cheek and lips. Her voice came out soft and pleading. "Just tonight. Hold me, hold your child for the first time. A night of peace…"

Despite what anyone might think, even herself, Sejuani was no less mortal than Ashe herself was. She thought she was made of true-ice, a warrior goddess in the flesh: she could bed as many women as she desired, each would throw themself at her and spread themself, but she melted for only one human being. Holding Ashe in her arms, she felt a taste of true sobriety, the battle leaving her. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she truly surrendered her urges. Udyr's words rang in her mind: her actions now would pave her path into the future more than anything else. So, exhaling a heavy breath, the Freljordian warlord laid down the mantle of power, just this once - for Ashe's sake.

Then a strange thing happened. As she nodded, relenting, shifting so she might lay beside the Avarosan… Ashe relented too; she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the back of Sejuani's neck, pressing her lips close.

"I don't understand," Sejuani whispered softly, and Ashe, still trembling, gave her a teary-eyed smile. Their foreheads pressed together.

"You do understand… I saw it in your eyes just now. The Sejuani I love… I love you…I love your sweetness; I love it when you hold back the worst parts of your nature... So... don't fuck me... Please. Make love to me, Sejuani. Just for now, show me the real you…" Her voice grew softer at the end, silken, beckoning. Sejuani couldn't hold back anymore. It had taken everything in her to show restraint, her control had been cracking since she'd picked the woman up from the slave tents, and now she'd fallen apart. Reaching down, she hastily ripped Ashe's smallclothes off, revealing her pretty, glistening parts. Grunting, she squeezed the base, and, shifting closer, pressed her cock against the beautiful entrance she'd submerged her dick in countless times. Glancing up, their eyes met once more.

Ashe's flushed face was full of shame and doubt, and she winced when Sejuani began to push inside. "W-Wait-" She cried, and Sejuani's hips locked in place. She panted.

"What is it - please, I can't wait long…" The barbarian groaned, trying not to start thrusting then and there.

"Sejuani… it's been so long." Ashe gently pressed her mouth to her rival's. "Be gentle… please."

Gentle she was. Gentler than she ever had been. Slowly, steadily, Sejuani pushed into the sweet woman that had laid claim to her heart. The slick folds parted with ease, and with a sharp inhale, she was rewarded with a few inches in. There she stopped, breathing heavily. She'd fought hard against it, but Ashe was dripping wet, so ready for this. Anyone else and she might've called them a whore. Tomorrow she might. As it was, Sejuani could not find those words within herself as she stared down at the woman she would make a new world with: Ashe had such a beautiful spirit, she naively believed in a tranquility that could not, would not, last. She'd saved herself for Sejuani like a good girl, she'd stayed loyal throughout it all…

"I love you… but I can't…" Sejuani whispered, as she began to thrust harder, faster, "can't be gentle." The deeper she sunk, it felt so deliciously hot and wet, Ashe was squeezing onto her so tightly. Sejuani couldn't hold back her pants.

"... You're being such a good girl," Ashe whispered against her ear, "so gentle with me…"

That sweet, shuddery, moaning voice…Sejuani's head swam.

She placed Sejuani's hands on her breasts. "Keep going. Keep being good. Slowly, Sejuani, please…"

The warlord groaned, her cock throbbing, but her body obeyed Ashe's demands. Her hips eased their rapid tempo, body trembling, she resisted the urge to slam in and out. Instead, Ashe wrapped her legs around Sejuani's ass.

Gently whispering in Sejuani's ear, she began to guide each thrust, their hips meeting together in sticky unison, Ashe's moans like music. "Just like that, Sejuani, nice and easy... it feels so good."

The slow, steady clap of their hips was unbearable. And yet knowing she could ruin this pussy, fuck it as hard as she possibly wanted to, and that instead she was taking her partner like this, it made her dizzy. At every moment, she fought the urge to brutalize, and at every moment, Ashe whispered gently praise, guided her in and out, ran her soft fingernails the back of Sejuani's neck.

"Making me rut like a damn Avarosan," Sejuani snarled under her breath, even as the most supreme bliss filled her when she pulled all the way out to the head, then slowly sunk back in, Ashe's inner walls tightened, squeezing around her, as Ashe began to slowly push her hips up and down. She dipped her mouth down to suck at Ashe's full breast, palming the other harshly. Ashe's pleased sounds, the 'good girl' praise was still echoing in her mind, making her cock throb like it had its own heartbeat.

When Ashe whispered. "You're ready, Sejuani," the words rang true. With a loud, almost howl-like yell, Sejuani seized Ashe's hips and came inside, the hot moisture spreading deep. When all was said and done, they lay panting beside each other. Sejuani threw the furs over them both and crawled behind her. Soon, Ashe had both arms tucked around her. It was strange, having to lay on her side because of her swollen body. Sejuani smiled gently, tracing her fingers along the pregnant belly she loved and adored. She'd been so tender as she sucked and teased Ashe's breasts and the sensitive skin of her chest and throat and stomach. Never before had Sejuani touched her like that, and somehow, she knew the woman never would - or rarely would. Her insides were flooded with a wash of hot, sticky release, Sejuani's mark.

The anger had dissipated from both of them. Worn out by war, they missed each other too much to focus on anything but pressing close to each other until their skin felt just right pressed tightly together, slick with sweat.

"Her name will be Aviana," Ashe suddenly announced, breaking their gentle silence.

"Hmph. Figures you'd pick a weak name like that. What if it's a boy?"

Ashe smiled sleepily. "Aviana still…" Then, turning, she looked right into Sejuani's eyes. "Sejuani. You can still turn back… tomorrow, you don't have to…"

But the Warmother merely smiled. "Some things are not negotiable…"

When Ashe, angry, tried to scoot away, Sejuani slid an arm around her and tugged her back. Securely, carefully held around the tummy, Sejuani pressed her face against the back of Ashe's neck. "Don't run away, Ashe. Accept it. Like eating food with your hands… New ideas. A new world. It… doesn't have to be the thing you're making of it. Stand with me, not against me…"

That was the last thing Sejuani said. Ashe couldn't make sense of it… but she relented. For now, more than she wanted to fight, she wanted a peaceful night in Sejuani's arms. It was truly all she ever wanted. It almost felt too good to be true when Sejuani's strong limbs tucked into all the different places Ashe loved best. Their bodies fit together so perfectly. They fell asleep in each other's arms, the way they'd craved.