"And through this union," Ashe announced, beaming at the clamoring masses surrounding her. "We will rely upon the strength of the barbarians, and they in turn upon our promise of a home to return to, a stalwart pillar to lean against. We are their stability, just as they lend us fortitude! Today, Freljord becomes something much bigger than it once was!"

The rowdy bellows of both barbarians and Avarosans alike echoed throughout the frosty expanse as Ashe gazed fondly upon her subjects.

"I am your singular monarch no longer. As of now, our leaderships intertwine just as our people do! I present to you your new king!"

With a calloused hand clasped tightly in her own, she raised both their arms in a gesture of triumph as she beamed at the assembly of roaring citizens. At her side, Tryndamere bellowed just as raucously as the loudest among them.

"Great, isn't it?" she whispered to him.

"Ha!" he guffawed, still seized by the adrenaline of the situation.

"This is nothing. Just wait 'til you break out the booze."

"So," Ashe glanced around at their new shared home. "We've done it. Freljord has finally been granted sovereignty. Thank you, Tryndamere. You have no idea how grateful I am for all you've done for me and my people."

"Ah, think nothing of it," he laughed. "All we've done is come rudely marching, strutting our muscles and adding a bunch o' sweaty, smelly men to your ranks. If anything, we owe you a debt for providing us a sanctuary. At long last, we have a place to call home."

Ashe smiled, though the king noticed it did not reach her eyes.

"I'm glad we could help each other. Always remember, your people are my people now. I won't allow anyone to treat them any differently."

Tryndamere nodded slowly, unable to ignore how sharply Ashe's weariness lined her expression.

"Ashe..." he sighed quietly. "I'm sorry."

She blinked in surprise.

"What? Whatever for?"

"I…Forgive me if this isn't my place to say, but…you're not happy with this, are you?"

"H-Huh?! Why would you ever think that? Freljord's the closest to being united than it's been in ages, and-"

"No," Tryndamere cut her off. "I'm sorry, what I meant to say is that you may be content with the result, and you are truly happy with the security this arrangement's afforded our citizens, but you aren't happy for yourself, right?"

"Wh-" Ashe averted her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"'S no use lying to me," he chuckled. "I'm pretty much an expert in all things angry, and yeah, it's not like you're mad, but I know resentment when I see it. I've seen how it's been for you. How hard you work, how pristine you have to keep yourself, how your refuse to let there be a chink in that frozen, queenly armor of yours. You've had to take so much on your shoulders, suffer through a whole helluva lot, and you of all people deserve at least some kind of happiness in return, but what do you have to show for it?"

He gave a weak grin, pointing to himself.

"An uncouth barbarian for a husband. Some refined prince I turned out to be, eh?"

"No!" Ashe growled, startling him. "That's not it; don't ever think like that. Like – like I married beneath me. What nonsense. Tryndamere, you're one of the strongest people I know, and every bit as worthy of the crown as I am. And I'm not some girl with her ditzy head stuck in the clouds. I've never needed a prince. It's just…"

"Just…?" Tryndamere coaxed, nodding for her to continue.

"It's just that it would have been nice. Nice if I could for once…perhaps choose for myself. I've always been bound by duty and obligation, to do what's expected of me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm proud to have been able to accomplish this much. But at least for this sort of thing…I wanted be able to choose someone I loved. N-Nothing against you, though. I don't mean to imply-"

"No, I understand. It's true that our marriage was purely political. I only…"

He paused as he glanced at her.

"I only wish we could have went about this another way. I didn't want to do this at your expense, Ashe. I...want you to be happy."

Ashe's eyes widened, before she clenched her teeth. Seeming to steel herself, she curled her hands into fists, paying no heed to the nails biting at her palm.

"Well…well, it doesn't have to be. Purely political, that is."

Tryndamere folded his arms in confusion.

"What are you trying to say?"

Ashe took a deep breath, coaxing herself to continue.

"What I mean to say is that…it's stupid. This whole business. It's stupid that everyone is scrutinizing us behind our backs as if they know this is a farce. I'm not oblivious to the skeptics muttering amongst themselves, doubting if this union will work because they doubt our devotion to the cause. They expect this to be fake, they expect our marriage to be faulty, to be a sham, and when it all breaks down because of our supposed flimsy commitment to each other, then they sigh and smirk to themselves, telling anyone who would listen that they knew all along that we were playing pretend. I say…I say we show them, Tryndamere. Why does this have to be forced? Why do we have to shoulder all of what everyone is prepared for? Whatever's between us doesn't have to be a falsehood.

She bit her lip as Tryndamere gazed at her and said nothing.

"It's true," she muttered, lowering her head, bangs obscuring her eyes. "We don't love each other now, but…don't you think we could eventually? We could…you know. Try. I'm willing to try if you are, Tryndamere. I don't know about you, but I'd be driven out of my mind by this…this…artificial marriage in a heartbeat. Things would be so much easier if things were warmer between us, wouldn't you agree?

She gave him a tremulous smile.

"All talk of love aside, the whole reason I chose you to be my king in the first place is not only because you're a great leader, but because you're a good man as well. This much I know with certainty."

She fell silent, fidgeting as she awaited his response.

"Are…" Tryndamere licked his lips, his expression impassive, schooled. "Are you sure you would honestly be satisfied with…with someone like me? In case you haven't noticed, I'm nothing more than a brute with a penchant for killing. All I've got is my bloodlust, all I know is slaughter. Y-You deserve better. You are our Queen."

She rolled her eyes.

"And you are our King. You give yourself far too little credit. The very fact that you can rein in your anger and channel it towards the prosperity of your people shows exactly what caliber of man you are. And besides," she blushed, twirling a lock of silver hair along her finger.

"I wasn't asking you if this is what I deserved. I'm asking you if this is what you…want."

She waited.

Tryndamere's stoic visage did not falter, but his eyes concealed unbridled emotion as they examined her.

And quite suddenly, a huge grin adorned his face. It was a hearty, genuine sort of thing, one that stretched from cheek to cheek, and Ashe found herself speechless as she bore witness.

"You really are a remarkable woman."

His booming laughter echoed across the expanse of the room's broad ceiling.

"Very well. If you are honest-to-god okay with me, then I won't say that I didn't warn you when you grow sick of me in the future. I would be honored to truly be your King, Ashe."

Ashe let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as her body slumped in blatant relief.

"I'm glad," she murmured.

Abruptly, she sprung up from her perch on the mattress and clapped her hands together.

"Well! Now that that business is behind us, what do you say we head down to the cafeteria? I. Am. Starving."

Tryndamere chortled as she looped her arm through his.

"Now you're speakin' my language!"

"Calm down, Tryndamere."

"Calm down? That bastard treats my men like they're dirt, and you want me to calm down?"

"I don't see what the big deal is. They were all at a tavern, they were drunk-"

"You weren't there, Ashe!" he growled. "You didn't hear the things he said! As if we were lower than bugs, as if we were second class citizens! I thought this was supposed to be an equal union!"

"It is!" she replied, exasperated. "But I don't see why a bit of rowdy language warrants your men beating my officer black and blue! Look, Tryndamere, you have to rein in your men in the future, we can't have them going around physically assaulting-"

"Oh, so 'a bit of rowdy language' is all well and good for your Avarosans but roughhousing isn't when it comes to my men? So much for equality!" he sneered.

"We are all Avarosan!" Ashe shouted, losing her patience.

"Sure as hell doesn't seem like it!" Tryndamere roared back. "When I brought my people here and swore fealty to you, I didn't do it just for your civilians to spit on our pride behind our backs! We're called barbarians, Ashe, but we're not animals! We're not beasts to be prodded at for your viewing pleasure, and then disposed of when you no longer have need of us!"

Ashe gritted her teeth as Tryndamere's anger in turn waxed her own ire greater and greater until something black and foul, something she could not recognize nor fathom, welled up from within her.

"Well you could've fooled me!" she snarled. "What else should we expect from you uncultured-"

Suddenly, she froze, realizing exactly what had come from her own mouth.

Tryndamere had stiffened, his expression betraying only mild surprise for a moment.

His countenance turned to stone. His voice came out gravelly and solemn.

"I see. So that's how this was after all."

He brusquely brushed past her and headed towards the entryway, crossing the threshold just as Ashe came to her senses.

"Wait! Trydamere! No, no no no, oh god, I didn't mean- Please, Tryndamere, come back! Please, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

Met with swirling frost as he lumbered out into the night, he felt a desperate grip – frigid, cold, but frantic with emotion– encase his wrist.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered. "There's been so much stress lately, and I-I just…"

Tryndamere sighed, swiveling to meet her gaze, noting the tears freely dripping down her cheeks, cutting swaths through the gathering frost accumulated from the night's tundra.

"That's no excuse," she trembled. "But I swear, I swear, I didn't mean one terrible word of what I said, you know you and your people mean the world to me, we owe everything to you-"

She choked back a sob, bringing up her other hand to cling to his fur pelt.

"I'm sorry, too," he muttered quietly, his rage simmering at her cool touch. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. You're right; for better or worse, we've joined in a community now, and we can't carry our violent habits with us into this deal unfiltered without expecting trouble. I guess me and my boys'll just have to learn to compromise-"

"No," Ashe vigorously shook her head, her tears glinting like frozen crystal as they were flung aside. "You're right to be indignant. I'm – we're – the ones at fault. After all you've done for us, we have no right to act in such a…such an ungrateful manner. The last thing you and your men deserve is to be treated like you don't belong, when it should be – and is – anything but. I promise that I'll have a talk with my officer. His kind of behavior cannot be tolerated and must be stamped out if this union is to work."

Tryndamere offered a weary smile.

"I suppose we both have a lot to learn about runnin' this new society. We have to take responsibility for what we've created with our own hands."

He gestured towards their home as he gently grabbed her hand and began walking.

They treaded slowly, carefully, their footfalls muffled by the snow.

"Tryndamere?" Ashe timidly uttered.

"Yeah?"

"You are very important to me. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. Same here."

They were nowhere near cleansed of the tension that so abruptly hung between them, but as the door closed behind them, they each silently resolved that whatever the strife, whatever future tidings their arrangement wrought, they would approach it together.

"You're being ridiculous," she laughed, looking up from her book.

"'Bout what?" he grunted.

"This is your home, for heaven's sake. You don't have to keep sleeping on the couch."

Ashe had to stifle a giggle at the blush that spread across Tryndamere's face.

"Wouldn't be proper," he mumbled, looking anywhere but at her.

"Oh please," she fondly rolled her eyes. "We've been married for over a month now. What's so scandalous about sharing a bed?"

"But-"

"Come on," she insisted, patting the space beside her. "It's not like we're going to do anything. I just feel bad that you've never had a comfortable place to sleep all this time."

"I'm used to it. I was always on the move before I came here. Never needed much more than the ground under my feet."

"'Yes, but you're not out there anymore, clawing and fighting your way to survival each and every night. You're here now. I've promised since the beginning of all this that you and your subjects will always have a place to return to. My home is your home, and I mean that," she looked around, grinning at the walls of their abode. "Quite literally."

She couldn't help but laugh at how apprehensive he was of the situation.

"C'mon, indulge yourself! What's the point of being a king if you can't at least have a bed? Do it for me?" she playfully batted her eyelashes.

"Are you sure?" came his muted response.

"Get in here, you big baby!"

He sighed in acquiescence (internally, he growled and swore that she was the only one who would ever away with calling him that), before climbing up next to her, drawing the comforter over so that it enveloped both of them.

"See? Not so bad, right?" she smiled, before returning merrily to her book.

"I swear on my blade, you're going to be the death of my pride. If any shreds of it are left."

"Is that Barbarian tongue for 'thank you'?" she replied, without looking up or missing a beat.

Chuckling, Tryndamere allowed himself relax his muscles and sink limply into the mattress.

"Something like that," he agreed.

The harsh staccato of hooves pounding the earth reverberated throughout the mountainous expanse.

"Quickly!" she urged from her perch on the worn saddle. "There isn't any time to lose! If Tryndamere were to have encountered the Noxians-"

The icy clamp of fear seized her heart, causing her to falter.

The battalion of soldiers riding behind her noticed their queen's anxiety.

"Fear not, your majesty," the captain reassured her. "Our king is not a man to be trifled with. They would have a hard time toppling a man of his caliber, even if he were to run into them."

Ashe swiped some lingering frost from her lips, her determined posture betraying none of her growing trepidation.

"Please be alright."

Her whisper was swallowed by the howling winds as she thought back to the morning three days prior.

"Is it okay?"

"Um, o-of course it is, but…can I ask what the occasion is?"

"Things have been a little too quiet lately. I guess that'd usually be good, but we've got to stay realistic 'bout things. I can't imagine Sejuani would remain complacent for so long, so my bet is she's brewing up a storm. Taking some of my men and scouting out some of the mountain ranges would put my mind at ease."

"Well, I suppose there isn't any problem. How long will you be gone?"

"Week at most. Don't worry, we won't be venturing too far. Just leave all the grunt work to us, 's what we're here for, after all."

He smiled.

"Are you sure you don't need me to come with you? At the very least, I could send a few of my contingent to help."

"We'll be fine," he waved her off. "One of us has gotta stay here and run the place. Things are tenuous enough around here as it is. And between you and me, this is as much for me and my boys as it is security detail."

"What do you mean?" Ashe placed her pen down and turned to give him her full attention.

"Ah, well, it's just…" Tryndamere nervously scratched the back of his head. "Now, don't take this the wrong way, but some of us have been a little restless staying here in the city. As content as we are to have a home that stays in one place, we weren't meant to sit still or be complacent. We've been nomads for so long, it's hard to get used to tranquility. It's easy to feel suffocated and uselessly stagnant if we can't have the wind whipping across our faces once in a while or feel our blood pumping with the adrenaline of travel."

"So scouting for Sejuani's forces is an excuse?" she questioned with a wry grin.

"Not so much an excuse," he mumbled. "Call it the perfect opportunity."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she warmly replied. "I have no intention of shackling you or your people to our way of life. Just…make sure you come back, alright?"

"I promise that that's something you'll never have to worry about."

"Good. Have a safe trip."

"Send word to me the instant you need me, okay? No matter how trivial it seems, I'll be back before you can-"

"Alright, alright," she laughed. "I promise. Now get going, already."

And it was only this morning, three days later, that Ashe received word from the Institute of War of the stubborn remnants of Noxus' supposedly dissolved Barbarian Pacification Campaign being spotted among the outskirts of the mountains near the city.

"Faster!" she roared over the din of the bellowing gales.

And then she heard it. Her ears picked up the shift in winds, and as they drew nearer and nearer, she distinguished the unmistakable clamor of warfare sifting through the trees ahead of them.

And as her squadron broke into the clearing, she saw her barbarian brethren, Tryndamere at the fore, clashing with the Noxians in the distance.

With growing dread, she discerned that the warriors were severely, hopelessly outnumbered.

"Archers, ready!" she screamed, increasing her speed. "Unleash a volley and thin out the Noxians! We must clear a path of escape for our comrades!"

She herself whipped out Avarosa's keepsake, willed a frozen arrow into existence, and began firing.

Enemy troops dropped like flies as Ashe's intervention turned the tides of the conflict. Finally reaching the edge of the fray, she leapt off of her horse and coldly impaled a Noxian point-blank with an arrow.

Her blood froze over, the chill of calculated fury coursing through her veins. Her blue gaze narrowed, her glare jagged, as ice lined her ruthless expression. Volley after volley erupted mercilessly from her fingertips, and the white of the snow speckled with crimson.

As her men rallied behind her, they paved a way along the outskirts of the battle for Tryndamere's injured group to retreat towards.

However, Ashe witnessed Tryndamere himself fighting in the center of the swarm of Noxians, presumably to ensure the safety of the rest of his men. She saw that the few barbarians who chose to dive into the thick of battle alongside him already lay slain at his feet.

She urged her body into a sprint, calling for her soldiers to aid her. The feeling of dread waxed greater. Her heart lurched in her chest. He was much too far away, she was running as fast as she could, the Noxians surrounding him were far too numerous-

Tryndamere fought blood and nail and tooth and bone, with the fervor and valiance of twenty men. His blade was a blur of steel as he cut through swaths of men like butter. Again and again it sank into flesh, and again and again Noxians slumped lifelessly to the sleet below.

But the dread cascaded over Ashe like frozen fire, encasing her heart, robbing her of warmth, of sensitivity.

A pause, momentary but all too poignant, rippled forth and undulated across the entire field. It was as if, for a brief instant, the air itself was siphoned of its Time, perceptions halted en masse.

And it passed.

And her breath hitched, her knuckles grew numb, as a scimitar punctured Tryndamere's torso from behind. His attacker shoved the weapon to its hilt; Ashe, in a moment of delirium, imagined the glint of the curved blade, marred with her husband's blood, winking at her, mocking her.

As red seeped through the corner of his mouth, Tryndamere blinked and stared dumbly at the metal protruding from his chest.

In the same moment he fell, Ashe charged, blinded by both tears and wrath, her cry of despair lost amidst the din of slaughter.

In a matter of minutes – or perhaps weeks, or perhaps years, Ashe couldn't tell – they dispatched the Noxians. Their corpses littered the red-tinged ice.

"Tryndamere, Tryndamere," she sobbed, his head cradled in her lap. "Say something. Anything. You have to-"

She gulped through her tears.

Under her fingertips, she felt the warmth rapidly seeping out from his body. She tightly, desperately gripped his shoulders.

"I forbid it. You can't abandon your duty to our statehood, to me."

When he did not answer, her anger swelled alongside her anguish.

"Do you hear me?" she shouted. "If you die here, all of what we worked for, our commitments, our promises – they go up in dust! Are you going to leave things as they are?"

She clenched her teeth.

"I refuse to allow it! I will never allow it! I didn't take you for a king who would leave things halfway finished! Our nation needs you, our people need you!"

She closed her eyes.

"I need you."

And quite suddenly, the warmth surged back, coating his body once more, brimming the synapses that once rang cold and hollow. His wound glowed red and began stitching itself back together, seams of flesh twining until no gap remained. Tryndamere's chest exuded heat; for a moment, Ashe reeled back as invisible flames scorched the air around him and washed over her frame.

He rose slowly to his feet, seemingly oblivious to Ashe's dumbfounded expression or the tears that had dripped onto his visage.

"Wh…Wha…"

She was rendered speechless, remaining stock still as Tryndamere swiveled to face her.

"What," he flashed a rueful smile. "Did you forget who I was?"

She punched him.

"OUCH! What the hell was that for, woman?!"

He faltered, however, when he witnessed her furious gaze, fists curled at her sides.

"You, you, you, YOU," Ashe trembled.

But she then launched herself at him, winding her slender arms tightly around his neck.

Tryndamere nearly tripped, attempting to support her as she embraced him with all her might.

"Don't you ever. Do that to me again."

Her threat was muffled against his chest.

"Takes a lot more 'n that to get rid of me. Especially when I promised someone I'd come back."

"Trust me," her growl seemed nearly feral, even as she held him to her as tightly as humanly possible. "You are not going anywhere. Not as long as I still draw breath."

Tryndamere grumbled.

Ashe raised a brow as she sipped her tea.

"Is something the matter?"

"No," he ground out.

She paused, placing her cup down.

"Something's obviously bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me."

She blinked at his harsh tone.

"Is this about last night's banquet?"

"And what would give you that idea?"

Ashe frowned, rotating her chair so that she could face him fully.

"Tryndamere, tell me."

"What's there to tell? Look, I was just out of my element, okay? I'm not one for highbrow social gatherings, in case you haven't picked up on that. Being forced into a suit and having to behave like a pompous fool isn't exactly my idea of a fun night."

Ashe peered into his disgruntled eyes.

"I know that's not really what's eating at you, Tryndamere. I'm not married to you for nothing."

"Really, now?" he stabbed his fork into his yolk, tearing the egg in two. "Sure didn't seem like it when you were getting all chummy with those Piltoverian dullards."

"You know as well as I do that it was important for us to improve relations with Piltover's emissaries. That was the whole point of inviting them to the feast in the first place."

"Yeah, you sure improved relations with them, alright. Was that what you were doing with that moron who kept flirting with you under your nose? Or maybe you did notice. You sure egged him on plenty. What, you realize you'd rather have married some stupid noble after all?"

She gaped at him, as if making sure they were having the same conversation.

"You were jealous!" she giggled, walking over to sit next to him.

"I'm not."

He turned so he wouldn't meet her gaze.

She sighed, placing a placating hand on his arm.

"Is that what this was about? Tryndamere, don't be absurd."

"I'm absurd now, am I?"

"Yes, you are. I told you before and I'll say it now. I'm not some insipid little girl fantasizing about some guy on a stallion. You don't have anything to worry about."

When he still appeared unconvinced, Ashe sighed once more.

"Do you really think I'd be taken with some shameless flirt? You're my husband, Tryndamere, and I intend to keep it that way. There's no one else I'd rather have."

He glanced at her hesitantly from the corner of his eye.

"You mean it?"

She nodded, taking his hand.

"Why would I need a prince when I have you as my King?"

He exhaled, ashamed.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm being ridiculous. I only-"

"Don't apologize," she grinned. "I think it's adorable when you're like this. So at odds with the strong, manly image you keep up around everyone else."

"I am NOT adorable."

"Oh?" she teased. "Is my big bad barbarian blushing?"

He shook his head, exasperated.

"Like I said. Around you, all notion of pride is thrown out the window."

"Is it worth it?" she asked absentmindedly, playing with a strand of Tryndamere's hair.

"Every shred."

"Hey, Tryndamere?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you know."

"Oh."

"…"

"…"

"…Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Ugh. You are so infuriating."

"Have you checked recently who you're married to? Infuriating is sort of what I do."

"Do you love me or not?"

"Y' really have to ask?"

And, amused, Ashe found that she really didn't.

After all, it was more a formality than anything else.

Author's Note:

PHEW. Finished at last.

Well. As you can tell, I've been bitten by the Tryndamere/Ashe bug. There are certain dynamics with their relationship that everyone seems to take for granted and are predisposed towards understanding. Namely, that the basis of their marriage is political, and as a result, they are aloof towards each other from the onset; that the only reason they are together - at least at first - at all is for the commitment to the union of their people.

Using that as a starting point, there are a number of wonderful fics on this site that work to illustrate their struggle to eventually become fond of each other, and, only through excruciating circumstances do they finally overcome their stiff regard for each other and begin to genuinely like one another. As I had Ashe state, it's what's expected of them by this point.

And it all makes perfect sense, of course. I am the last person who would oppose such a progression, and indeed, have already read several fics detailing exactly that sort situation between the two, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. That said, I attempted a different approach in writing this fic, as you can tell. I wanted to have them throw off the shackles of these expectations, and be warm and friendly to each other from the very get-go. Why can't they attempt to truly be husband and wife? And from that question, this fic was born. Of course, they are clearly not without their fair share of strife in this story, but I'd like to think my overall portrayal held its ground.

Er, I hope I didn't come across as pompous or condescending in this author's note, I just wanted to explain my thought process behind the fic. AND OKAY, THIS RANT HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH. I'M DONE, I SWEAR.

Drop a review and let me know what you thought!

EDIT: Should probably have done this earlier, but just letting people know I've decided to continue this fic. Click onwards to chapter 2!