Chapter Text
Half a celebration, half pure humiliation, Ashe never ended up breaking on that windy day - she maintained a certain silence, never uttering the words desired, but their people heard Sejuani’s truth regardless. Her moans, her physical surrender, said it all. Sejuani laid claim to her utterly. Again and again, she ravaged her Avarosan queen, to the extent that Ashe stopped being able to speak coherently, her mouth locked shut, and eyes squeezed tight as she came all over the stiff cock that ruthlessly plunged into her dripping depths. Eventually, she just caressed her conqueror’s hands, eased her body against Sejuani’s and silently gave in, but she never uttered a word of true submission. Ashe would never say that her way had been the wrong one. That was one thing she would never lie about. It didn’t matter how they perceived her - she stood by her dream of the Freljord, her dream of peace.
That was the kind of prideful woman Ashe was. She thought such things mattered, despite the bigger picture. She was a truly self-righteous queen. Sejuani had always loved and respected that part of her, and loathed it. It was part of what made their bond so ideal.
Growing up, they rarely saw each other, but when the Winter’s Claw and the Avarosans happened upon each other, young Sejuani always found herself unable to look away. It also happened that when Sejuani gazed upon her, Ashe liked it. And she liked it when Sejuani grabbed her by the arm, rough, always rough even back then, and dragged her off to go hunting, or to kiss in the darkness of the forest where no one would find them. What started out as something thrilling and exciting for Ashe, had always been pure love for Sejuani. She’d pressed her mouth onto Ashe’s because she couldn’t stand to do anything else in those moments - the perfect girl for her had always been the kind that, even in a place where no one would find them, put her hands over her mouth to hold back moans as her dripping sex was lovingly kissed and caressed.
A guilt-ridden, prideful, foolish Avarosan queen.
Sejuani was sure of it… that there was no woman more fit to stand by her side. Once, Ashe might’ve agreed, but what was supposed to unify them created a rift that Sejuani wasn’t sure she’d be able to close. She’d made a display of Ashe because she had no choice. It had been the obvious thing to do, a traditional show of power - she’d been gentle, for a Winter’s Claw warrior. She’d been loving , even, and yet Ashe refused to see it that way, or perhaps she just couldn’t. Since that event, Ashe had refused to touch her, or look at her with gentle eyes. She behaved, kept her mouth shut, never made sharp retorts anymore, and she stood at Sejuani’s side like a proper companion, but what had once been love transformed into something frigid, a cracked shell of its former self.
After the “celebration” no further performance was expected from Ashe, she was utterly claimed, or so the Winter’s Claw tribesmen said, and they said it often, too, everytime a former Avarosan dared to show their claws… less and less these days. For her part, Ashe was too exhausted, body seized by the toil of a growing child to offer any further resistance. She became a phantom wife, most of her heart in hibernation. Like Sejuani had claimed, the conquest of the gentle Avarosans was inevitable, there was naught to be said for it. So, the former queen of that defeated people had no other choice but to get used to it. Day after day passed, and in many ways, without question or complaint, her mind surrendered. For the child inside her, she would learn how to thrive in this unfamiliar world, with this woman who- sometimes, was entirely unthawed, the ultimate source of safety, but also her total destruction. That, at this point, was undeniable. Sejuani had won the Freljordian Queen, spilled blood across the entire frozen land, for her.
She’d won; on that stage she’d won, against Tryndamere she’d won, and in that tent – when they’d cast the herb aside, the muscular barbarian, with her winter eyes, and mess of shaggy, pale hair, so perfect and chiseled, so pretty , won the war . In the end how many people died was just a meaningless number.
With a distant heart, Ashe got used to the brutality, the way The Claw spread like a plague, consuming all that it touched; she couldn’t pretend the way boys and girls alike were raised with various weapons in hand, with bloodlust on their mind, didn’t tear her apart, but there was nothing she could do about it except beg Sejuani for something different, for their own spawn’s sake. But she was too prideful to beg anymore, because some nights, by force, when Sejuani put her on her knees she always begged anyways, a repetition of the first violation. She would never let her body’s weakness rule her, she would never be entirely soft except when she chose to be.
But “in all the ways that matter” Ashe learned to eat with her hands.
Despite everything, Sejuani proved to be an exceptional ruler, turning her ear to her aunt’s council over her lover, the forged bond between humanity and troll growing ever stronger by the month. Upon her return from her travels, which were not frequent, but long journeys when they came, Sejuani would lavish her with extravagant trinkets and treasures to adorn her body and their bedroom. The warmonger insisted that the most exquisite jewelry be worn by her queen, enjoying how the jewels and precious metals sparkled against Ashe's full, heavy bust, giving her a special glow.
It caused a ripple amongst the men when, breaking the tradition of her predecessors and ignoring the suggestions of her people, Sejuani did not take on any other bed partners or wives. There were only two things the immense, pale-haired brute cared about: Ashe and her chosen future for the Freljord, those were the only things Sejuani valued – she was the same way she always was, always had been, while Ashe became a ceaseless vessel of change. Arrogant, loud, and domineering, no turmoil regarding her ruling came; perhaps because she was just so strong, her reputation of being unstoppable almost godlike, but she also had a natural charisma, a way of caring for her people, that stopped all idle gossip about any “weakness” Sej might be displaying.
A sense of normalcy came as the months trickled by, as the rebellions ceased, alliances becoming permanent, written down in word and tongue, binding all, and the boundaries of the new future kingdom were fortified, many small towns arising to accommodate the selling of goods and slave-stock to Noxus. Kingdom, because despite what Sejuani claimed about the Freljord being “One Clan, a bastion of tradition, stuck in violent tradition, Ashe’s influence slowly started trickling in.
Despite claiming she would never be molded into Ashe’s image, a shift began to take place. The Winter’s Claw Warmother started to become smart, more ruthless , about how she wanted to organize in preparation for a Demacian invasion that inevitably would come one day. She’d learned to let her tongue flow with silver, learned to silence nuisances… even with gold. Weak, Avarosan ways, were buried in the shadows of her reign. Sej would never admit it was Ashe’s suggestions that brought her even more power, but she was, despite everything, in some of the most meaningful ways, yielding – it was thrilling, in a way, seeing what she could convince Sejuani to do if she pushed gently, hungrily, if she tried to earn it with her body as the prize.
Ashe would at least try to make her lover into a legend that was not utterly despised, so that their child’s safety would never be in question. Let them not say in history Sejuani was a brute, a monster, so that their legacy was secure. That was what normalcy could be expected, considering everything.
It was, disturbingly , a nice life. A privileged one; Ashe wanted for nothing of the material nature. Noxus, outside their frozen land, was as inevitable as the Claw it seemed. The alliance was a terrible one, no doubt one that would end in utter treachery, a power-struggle. And Sejuani had been the one to beckon them inside the boundaries, Sejuani and Lissandra. It was enough to make Ashe burn with envy, to be left out of such a profound part of history, one that she could no longer change.
To be the loser of a war came with a disgraceful peace . She could just grow fat and comfortable, the time of their child fast approaching, and never think of anything important again if she wished, but the slave trade was constantly on her mind. Lissandra’s insistence on preserving it was an obstacle Ashe could not surpass, Sejuani was comfortable with it, her purses growing fat off the blood gold.
The Freljord changed, and so did Ashe, not just her mind, her body….
Then He was born. And everything changed.
Ashe lost herself in his littleness, this weak thing that she would protect, and Sejuani stared at them from a thousand miles away, trembling; she couldn’t bear to behold them. The midwife offered them both some well-intentioned, and rather meaningful advice, and she tried to reach for the baby to wash it clean, but Ashe refused to let go, and despite her attempts to get her Warlord’s attention, Sejuani just stared from the edge of the crimson-soaked bed, shaking her head slowly. After surrendering the towel to the Warmother’s wife, the wizened midwife waddled off. As she was leaving, a familiar man walked into the room.
“Good work,” the massive, bearded shaman said to his elderly, stooped clanmate.
“Mmm, could hardly do my work at all,” The old woman, skin cracked and leathery, slipped a dry tongue across her lips. “Best you take care of them from this point. Get me if you need me, Udyr, Warmother. You know where I sleep.”
“Of course. Hello, daughter. I see the birth went well. My grandchild is beautiful.”
Sejuani flinched when her father’s voice trickled in through the odd blurry emptiness that had taken hold of her as she watched the infant male, her child, their child, being lovingly embraced: Ashe looked so right with their kid in her arms, the sight tattooed into her mind until the end of time. She thought she was ready to face that screaming, writhing battle into existence, but the sound of Ashe’s wails, her son's wails, had done something unexplainable to her. It was because he was so damn small, a little runt.
She imagined her son, fighting for his life against whatever enemy she might earn for him with her atrocities. Imagined him squealing, a useless piglet, stuck through because of some treachery. Worse things had happened to other leader’s kin. A thousand different ideas of how her seemingly infinite conquest could go wrong rampaged through her usually walled-off mind.
Her father’s strong, hot hand did little to banish the marathon of terror, his presence, despite everything, never had been a real comfort, and it was worse now. He’d left. Was this why? Could Udyr not bear to see her hardened by the Freljord?
That soft, pathetic, blood-soaked bundle of flesh. That little pipsqueak. Barely a baby at all, so tiny, crying its little round head off. She had no idea how much time passed, but as Ashe gently toweled off her prize, cooing, soaked in sweat, pale hair streaming down her trembling shoulders. Sejuani felt an urge to stride closer, sit beside her, kiss the little infant on the head, kiss her wife on the head. She’d done such a good job, carried herself through this with such an odd grace.
Then, his eyes opened, and Ashe gasped. They had the most beautiful baby in the world, with eyes a fierce sapphire-blue. Just like his mothers. Nothing else could be expected. He blinked and took in the world for the first time, instinctually wailing when he saw Sejuani, so far away.
“Come here, Sejuani,” Ashe whispered, a little breathless, her chest rapidly rising and falling. “Come, there’s no need to be so frightened. He’s just a little baby. Our precious, perfect son, look at him – so small.”
“He’s a runt,” Sejuani grunted, “Half the size he should be.”
“So he won’t be a warrior then. He’ll be a scholar. He’ll chronicle the remarkable conquests of his warrior mother… and stay safe, with us by his side, until he’s ready to lead.”
Sejuani smiled slowly, eyes gleaming, fists clenched. She couldn’t break the tension in her body. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? If I were to let him become a weak little Avarosan lamb, just like his mother… but no. No, it just means he has to work twice as hard as the others.”
“No,” Ashe’s lips curled too. “It means he, and whoever else doesn’t excel with their martial talents, will - instead of being cast away and abandoned - be raised to do something else, something meaningful. For the Claw of course.”
“Perhaps you were right about that mouth of hers, daughter,” Udyr commented, and Sejuani’s frown broke into a smile. “She’s a smart one. I like her.”
“Come now, Sejuani. To my side… perhaps we’ll just let him be whatever he wants to be.”
“Tch. You’re an insistent bitch. But fine. Since you need me.”
“Since you want to be near your family.”
Sej didn’t bother to correct Ashe, she would be lying if she did. The second the scarred woman sank down on the bed – gathering Ashe in her arms, the rest of the world receded. That was exactly what she was afraid of. This melting softness, this heat in her mind and belly. And yet she was grateful for it.
So perhaps Ashe won the war after all.
The celebration of their first child was far more remarkable, meaningful, an event than Ashe’s absurd “entrance” into the Claw at the start of this. They were allowed two weeks of privacy, where no one dared disturb the twin queens. Udyr and Olaf took charge, and as the two hands of the Winter’s Claw, they worked efficiently to make sure everything ran smoothly. They were smitten with their son, as was the rest of the tribe. Baby Avana offered hope to all, even the forgotten Avarosans.
After Ava was born, the months trickled steadily by, until a year and a half passed, the average amount of time to pass before another pregnancy became safe. The wise mothers became rambunctious around this time, and whispers scattered across their lofty village, which would one day become a grand city.
“Will they have another?”
That was the question on everyone’s mind. After confirmation from Sejuani’s favorite shaman, there was no more to question. Ashe nearly laughed at how girlish Sejuani was as she dragged her beloved wife into their tent, and threw her down on the bed. She was all too eager to pump Ashe full of child again, emotions bleeding out her arctic eyes: latent, animal hunger.
Sejuani licked her scarred lip, ran a hand through her main of pale-white hair, frozen eyes flashing.
She hastily pulled off her furs, and glanced expectantly at Ashe. Ashe merely smiled, and in response, Sejuani scowled. This was their forever game. Ashe would not take her clothes off willingly, unless she wanted something specific. She gave her larger lover an enticing smile, resting back on the bed and shifting so her knees were bent.
“So you really want to do it.”
“Yes. Need it, actually. Been waiting. I want another one, three, I-I want a bigger family.”
Their first child had created so much weakness in Sejuani, Ashe couldn’t quite hide her surprise that Sej so boldly admitted it. It was genuine. Avana was always on Sej’s huge shoulder, her constant companion, fragile and emotional, clinging to the crook of the big brute’s arms, who slowly became far less brutish. She’d even dispelled slavery in local territories, not wanting her child to grow up seeing it. Under Ashe’s guidance, Avana would dispel it from everywhere one day.
Sejuani of the Winter’s Claw was a selfish monster of a woman, but not entirely heartless. She sighed with feigned disdain as Sejuani came down to lay across her, and the wood creaked beneath their combined weight. Ashe let Sejuani kiss her, allowing their lips to entangle. Sejuani stuck a cool, thick thigh between Ashe’s, caressing the former Avarosan’s sex with her knee.
Playing at resistance, she snapped her legs shut, and Sej grunted hungrily.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want it.”
Ashe was about to say of course she didn’t, but then Sej started rocking her knee more steadily into that damnable, sensitive spot, her weakness. The force of the motion shut her up - her sapphire gaze snapped shut as she whimpered and humped feverishly into Sejuani’s knee. Felt so good, and the idea of another pregnancy made her heart thud, and her womb felt painfully empty.
Sejuani removed the rest of the wooly garment covering her queen’s body, and she kissed every spot she could, sucking hungrily on her sensitive nipples. Ashe groaned softly, shaking her white-haired head.
“S-Sejuani… s-shouldn’t we think about it a little first? Just because the wise mother said I’m ready doesn’t mean we should jump right into it. Making me feel good doesn’t make another child right now any more p-practical m-mmm , s-stop, stop being so-”
“I don’t care about what’s practical. Never have. I just do what I want. What I want to do is you.”
‘It’s too soon. It’s far too soon!’ Her body was only just fertile again, and they were already rolling around in their bed together, ready to tread that path again. How treacherous, this body of hers, and yet it wasn’t such a bad decision when she was wrapped up in those big, wondrous arms, staring into storm-blue orbs.
Sejuani smiled, and grasped Ashe’s chin. “I want it so bad I’ll even name this one,” the Winter’s Claw leader whispered, and the former Avarosan threw her hands over her face, shaking her head. “Something pretty- like Allesana.”
After that, Ashe didn’t protest much.
Sejuani lasted a long time as always. She could never get enough of the Avarosan’s reactions, and so worshiped her from top to bottom. She squeezed her hips and slammed into her with slow precision as they kissed desperately, trying to get as much of each other’s skin as possible.
Felt so good~ Ashe didn’t care how she got Sej’s cock; she’d become accustomed to getting it whenever Sej wanted, being taken was her favorite pastime, a wonderful distraction from what her life had become, all the people and places she’d lost.
As her orgasm neared, Ashe let her eyes roll back, her body go slack. She embraced the heat spike in her body, shook her hips as fast, as hungrily as she could manage. She loved the sound of their crotches clapping together, she loved Sejuani. Seizing her warlord’s hips she shifted so that Sej could fuck her more easily– as the immense slab of dick stretched her in it’s usual fashion, she whimpered as she remembered what was coming. Sejuani was going to do it again. Was going to conquer her pussy, stuff it full of Winter’s Claw cum. Breathing heavily, her instincts made her thighs spread wider, made her even wetter. She took Sejuani inside more easily this way.
“Sejuani! S-Sejuani! I love you, d-don’t you dare stop!”
“Oh? I thought another kid was a bad idea.”
“Mmmh! Forget what I said, just g-give it to me, a-all of it… I’ll take every last drop.”
“Really letting go of your reluctance, huh? Well, can’t say I’m not glad you’re finally admitting you want it.” The Warmother grinned, scarred face annoyingly handsome in that moment, pale-blue eyes flashing. “Mmm. Tempting me with this body of yours, slut.”
She was. She wrapped her arms around Sejuani’s neck, kissed the scarred flesh there, and after a few minutes of the constant in-and-out, hot lips pressed across her cheeks and pale hair, she came, shuddering, all over her conqueror, the way she always did. Shaking, gasping and moaning, whispering Sejuani’s name, she soaked the big, thick dick again and again, until Sej couldn’t hold back either.
The big warrior groaned, wrapped her muscular, heavily-scarred arms around Ashe’s waist, Ashe’s belly nestled against her well-toned abdomen. Staring at Ashe, with her heavy breasts coated in Sejuani’s saliva and marks and the state of her body, Sejuani came undone. The pair of iceborn women held each other as Sej’s release painted her insides, the hot flood making her whimper. Spurt after thick spurt, so much of it that it started to erupt down Sejuani’s shaft, overflowing….
Unlike the first time, there was no misery. Her mind, her body, had truly settled in. It felt safe in Sejuani’s arms. She nuzzled up to the big woman, enjoying the feeling of Sej’s calloused fingers cupping her ass.
She sat on top of Sejuani for a long time, kissed her sweaty, broad neck, breathing heavily. Sejuani’s leaking dick stayed stuffed in her pussy, and she couldn’t want it any other way. Sejuani traced her fingers through her other half’s long, pale hair, grunting with satisfaction when Ashe squeezed and fluttered her inner muscles, enjoying her reward of a weak spurt of more sperm. She cock-warmed her warlord for a longtime – at some point, they fell asleep together.
Months rolled into each other, forming a tapestry of seasons and emotions, culminating in the birth of a second son. Then, nearly two years later, life repeated its cycle, bestowing them with another child… and so the rest is history.
End