Warmother’s Judgment
Chapter 4: Warmother’s Judgment
The frigid winds of the Freljord bit at their faces, sharp as knives against exposed skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made Caitlyn’s fingers tighten around the stock of her rifle. It was the unmistakable sensation of being watched, a prickling at the back of her neck that no amount of training could dismiss. The snow-covered expanse stretched endlessly ahead, deceptively empty and cloaked in an eerie stillness, save for the mournful howl of the wind. Yet Caitlyn could feel it—unseen eyes tracking their every move, the weight of silent predators biding their time.
Her breath curled in the frozen air as she raised her rifle, the polished barrel gleaming faintly in the pale light. Her sapphire eyes narrowed, scanning the surrounding ridges with methodical precision, each shadow and snowdrift scrutinized for even the slightest movement. The mountains loomed like jagged sentinels, their peaks half-shrouded in icy mist, but Caitlyn’s focus was fixed lower, on the hidden places where danger might lurk. “We’re not alone,” she muttered, her voice low and sharp, carried away by the wind almost as soon as it left her lips.
Beside her, Jinx let out a soft, manic laugh, her grin splitting her face like a jagged wound. It was a wild, unrestrained thing that didn’t quite reach her eyes, which glowed with an unnatural light as she drew her pistol in a single fluid motion. The weapon gleamed coldly in her hand, a perfect match for the harsh landscape around them. “Oh, I love this part,” she said, her tone practically sing-song, as if the tension in the air was an invitation to chaos. “Mystery stalkers in the snow? Can’t wait to see what pops out. Maybe we’ll get wolves. Or raiders. Or something fun.”
Caitlyn didn’t respond, her focus unyielding as she kept her rifle trained on the ridges. Jinx’s recklessness grated at her, but she couldn’t deny the value of Jinx’s unpredictability in moments like these. Whatever—or whoever—was out there would be in for a fight.
Mel, however, was a portrait of composure. She stood perfectly still, her golden eyes scanning the ridges with a calm, calculating gaze. Even as the tension in the air crackled like static before a storm, her poise never wavered. The wind tugged at her fur-lined coat, and a faint shimmer of frost clung to her polished gauntlets, but she remained steady, unshaken. “If they’re watching,” she said quietly, her voice even and measured, “then they’re deciding whether we’re worth the effort. Let’s hope they choose wisely.”
The howl of the wind grew louder, as if mocking the fragile sense of calm, and Caitlyn tightened her grip on her rifle. The snow around them seemed impossibly still, the kind of silence that could be broken in an instant—by a shout, a shot, or the sudden rush of movement. Whatever lay in the shadows of the ridges, Caitlyn knew one thing for certain: they weren’t alone, and the Freljord’s deadly reputation wasn’t built on legends alone.
The moment shattered with a sudden swish of air, sharp and deliberate, followed by a streak of motion almost too quick to register. Three arrows of ice sliced through the sky with impossible precision, their crystalline tips catching the faint light before embedding into the snow just feet from the trio. The impact sent a spray of frost into the air, the sharp crack of ice reverberating through the ridges. For a moment, everything was still, the silence more oppressive than the howling wind.
Caitlyn froze, her breath hitching as her heart slammed against her ribcage. These weren’t Noxians. The craftsmanship of the arrows, their flawless accuracy—this was something far more dangerous. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her rifle just a fraction, though her grip remained steady, her finger still close to the trigger. Her eyes scanned the ridges, her sharp gaze flicking across every shadow and snowdrift.
“We’re not here to cause trouble,” Caitlyn called out, her voice steady despite the tension humming in the air. The chill bit at her words, but they carried nonetheless, clear and firm. She kept her posture controlled, unthreatening but prepared. “We seek something valuable that was taken from us.”
The silence stretched taut, and then, from the swirling white haze, a figure emerged. She moved with an unsettling grace, her footfalls barely disturbing the snow beneath her. As she stepped from behind a jagged ice formation, her presence was both commanding and ethereal. She was tall and striking, her pale hair a stark contrast to the rich, dark fur-lined cloak that swept around her shoulders. Strands of white escaped the edges of her hood, catching in the icy breeze like threads of silver. Her movements were deliberate, each step calculated, as though she were a predator closing in on prey.
In her gloved hands, she carried a bow of exquisite design—sleek and curved, its frame etched with frost-like patterns that shimmered faintly with latent power. The string glowed with an almost imperceptible blue light, humming softly as though alive. She held it loosely, but there was no mistaking the readiness in her posture. This was a weapon that had seen battle, wielded by someone who knew its deadly potential.
Her piercing gaze swept over the group, cold and unyielding, like a bitter wind that stripped away all pretense. Her ice-blue eyes lingered on each of them in turn—Caitlyn with her rifle, Jinx with her wild grin and pistol, and Mel with her calm, measured stance. It was an assessment, precise and dispassionate, weighing their intentions.
“And how do we know you speak the truth, outsider?” the woman asked, her voice even and controlled but laced with quiet authority. The faintest edge of suspicion underpinned her tone, a sharpness that warned of consequences should her trust be misplaced. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze flicking toward the airship behind them. “This craft of yours has landed dangerously close to a village under my protection.”
Jinx, ever irreverent, let out a low whistle, her glowing eyes glinting with admiration as she appraised the stranger. “Well, aren’t you a sight,” she muttered, her voice carrying just enough to be heard. The grin tugging at her lips was more curious than mocking, though Caitlyn bristled at the remark.
“Jinx,” Caitlyn snapped, her sharp glance cutting like a blade. Her tone was low but firm, a warning to keep things from escalating.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Jinx, her expression unreadable, though the bow in her hands tilted ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of her power. For a moment, the air seemed to still, the tension crackling like frost on a blade. Whatever happened next would depend entirely on Caitlyn’s ability to defuse the situation.
Mel’s expression shifted subtly, her usually stoic mask cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of recognition. It was fleeting but unmistakable, a glimpse of someone piecing together fragments of memory. With deliberate grace, she stepped forward, her fur-lined coat billowing slightly in the icy breeze. She raised her hands in a calm, measured gesture of peace. “We mean no harm, Warmother Ashe,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying the practiced weight of diplomacy. Every word was deliberate, each syllable carefully balanced to convey respect without submission. “We came only to recover what was stolen from us. If it will ease your concerns, we’re willing to explain ourselves in a place more suited to your liking.”
Ashe’s piercing gaze turned sharply to Mel, her eyes narrowing like a hawk studying Mel. The faint glow of her bow seemed to intensify as her gloved fingers tightened around it, a subtle reminder of the power she wielded. “You know me, how?” Ashe asked, her voice low and controlled, but there was no mistaking the tension laced beneath her words.
Caitlyn’s grip on her rifle tightened, though the barrel remained lowered. Her stance was rigid, her body tense as her eyes darted between Ashe and Mel. The air between them felt charged, each moment threatening to tip the balance. Caitlyn had heard the name Warmother Ashe before, spoken in hushed tones by travelers and soldiers alike. Even in Piltover, far removed from the frozen wilds, tales of Ashe carried weight—a warrior of unshakable resolve, a leader who united fractured tribes under her banner with equal measures of strength and compassion. Here in the Freljord, Ashe wasn’t just a legend; she was a force of nature.
Ashe’s expression remained unreadable, though her sharp eyes lingered on Mel as if trying to dissect her intentions. Caitlyn knew Mel’s composure well, but even now, she could see the slight shift in her posture—the careful positioning of someone navigating a minefield.
“I recognize strength when I see it,” Mel replied evenly, her tone steady but carrying a hint of something deeper, more personal. Her golden eyes held Ashe’s gaze without wavering. “I’ve studied the Freljord, its people, its leaders. Your name reaches far beyond these frozen lands, Warmother. You are a symbol of unity, of perseverance. I only hope we can appeal to the same wisdom and fairness that made you a legend.”
The words hung in the frigid air, their weight amplified by the tension of the moment. Ashe’s gaze flicked briefly to the airship in the distance, her grip on her bow relaxing just slightly. The faint hum of its string quieted, though her stance remained guarded. “Flattery won’t earn you my trust,” Ashe said coolly, though there was no hostility in her voice. Her eyes returned to Mel, sharp and assessing. “If what you say is true, then prove it. Speak your purpose clearly, or turn back now.”
Caitlyn let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing only slightly. Ashe’s presence was commanding, her every movement deliberate and unyielding, yet there was no denying the flicker of curiosity in her gaze. Mel, with her flawless poise, had managed to hold Ashe’s attention, but Caitlyn knew they were far from earning her trust. In the Freljord, trust was a currency earned through action, not words. And as the wind howled around them, Caitlyn couldn’t help but feel the weight of the unspoken warning Ashe carried: one wrong move, and this uneasy truce would shatter like ice beneath their feet.
Mel took a deliberate step forward, the crunch of her boots against the snow breaking the heavy silence like a ripple through still water. The biting wind tugged at the fur-lined edges of her tailored coat, the faint shimmer of frost gathering on its hem. Yet, despite the cold seeping into every crevice of the frozen landscape, Mel’s golden eyes remained steady, locked onto Ashe’s piercing gaze. Her poise was unshaken, every movement deliberate, exuding both respect and authority. Her gloved hands remained visible, open in a gesture of peace, though her tone carried the unmistakable edge of urgency.
“We’re here because a gemstone of unimaginable power was stolen,” Mel began, her voice smooth but firm, each word carefully chosen. “A tool of innovation—of progress—meant to better lives. In the wrong hands, it’s a weapon capable of destruction beyond measure.”
The weight of her words hung in the frigid air, carried by the howling wind and amplified by the solemnity of her delivery. Ashe’s expression remained unreadable, her icy blue eyes sharp and calculating as they bore into Mel’s. There was no hostility in her stance, but neither was there trust—only the quiet, assessing stillness.
Mel turned her head slightly, her voice remaining calm but now tinged with command as she addressed Caitlyn without breaking eye contact with Ashe. “Show her the device,” she said evenly, the subtle authority in her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Caitlyn shifted, her fingers instinctively brushing against the strap of her rifle before moving to the pocket of her coat. Her breath misted in the air as she reached inside, pulling out a small, intricately designed device. It fit snugly in her gloved hand, its polished casing catching the faint light that filtered through the icy haze. At its center, a gemstone glimmered faintly, its core radiating a soft, pulsing glow that illuminated the snowflakes swirling around it. It wasn’t the gemstone they were searching for, but its design mirrored what they sought—a shard of the same technology, imbued with the same haunting energy.
As Caitlyn extended the device toward Ashe, the glow seemed to intensify, casting ethereal blue light onto the snow between them. “This is what we’re tracking,” Caitlyn explained, her voice steady but guarded. “The gemstone at the center of this device is part of the same creation as the one we’re searching for. It allows us to locate its counterpart by detecting its unique energy signature.”
Ashe’s sharp gaze flicked to the device, her expression remaining impassive, though her eyes narrowed slightly. She stepped closer, her movements precise and controlled, as though every step was a calculated decision. The faint hum of her bow resonated in the stillness as she stopped just a few feet away. The cold air between them seemed to thrum with tension, the glow of the gemstone casting strange, shifting patterns across Ashe’s pale features.
“This technology…” Ashe murmured, her voice quieter now but no less commanding. She didn’t finish the thought, her fingers tightening on the grip of her bow as she studied the device. Her piercing gaze flicked back to Mel, a spark of something unreadable flashing in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or concern. “You claim it’s meant to better lives, but all I see is a weapon waiting to be unleashed. What makes you think I should allow such a thing to remain in my lands?”
Mel inclined her head slightly, her composure unwavering. “That’s exactly why we need to retrieve it,” she replied, her tone measured but firm. “Left unchecked, it will become a weapon. But if we find it—if we recover it—we can ensure it’s used for the purpose it was intended: to bridge divides, to create progress.”
Ashe’s gaze lingered on the gemstone for a moment longer before shifting back to Caitlyn. Her eyes bore into her as though searching for any sign of deceit, and Caitlyn resisted the urge to flinch under the intensity of her scrutiny. The air felt heavier, the stakes impossibly high, as Ashe finally stepped back, her cloak sweeping against the snow.
Ashe’s expression didn’t waver, her bow still gripped tightly in her hand, though the faint glow of its string flickered as she listened. She remained silent, her sharp, assessing gaze fixed on Mel. Meanwhile, Mel’s voice carried on, calm and measured. “We traced its energy signature here, to your lands. We don’t know who holds it now, but we fear it may already be in dangerous hands.“
While Mel spoke, Jinx stood off to the side, her glowing, eyes fixed on Ashe with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. Her head tilted slightly, the glint of mischief in her gaze unmistakable. She didn’t even pretend to hide her appraisal, her eyes roving over Ashe with open curiosity, lingering far too long on the curve of her bow, the intricate details of her fur-lined armor, and the way the frost clung to her white hair like an artist’s flourish. Everything about Ashe fascinated her, from the way she held herself like a queen carved from ice to the quiet strength radiating from her every movement.
“She’s so cool,” Jinx muttered, not bothering to lower her voice. Caitlyn shot her a sharp, warning glare, but Jinx ignored it entirely. Instead, her grin widened as she took a small step closer, her boots crunching audibly in the snow. “You’re like… a snow goddess or something,” she said, her tone dripping with unfiltered admiration. “How do you even stay that graceful in this weather? I’d be flat on my ass the moment I tried to look half as good as you.”
Caitlyn groaned, her hand flying to her face as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Jinx—” she began, her voice already strained, but Jinx was in full swing now.
“And that bow!” Jinx exclaimed, gesturing toward Ashe’s weapon with exaggerated enthusiasm. Her grin sharpened as she leaned forward, her eyes practically gleaming. “It’s not just for show, is it? Bet you could shoot a snowflake out of the air with that thing. Probably have, huh?” She let out a sharp laugh, her fingers twitching on the pistol in her hand. “Oh, wait—don’t tell me… Do you name your arrows? Because if you don’t, you reallyshould. Like, give them cute little nicknames or something. Frosty, Pointy, Stabby—I mean, you’ve got options.”
Caitlyn’s glare intensified, but Jinx was oblivious. She took another step closer, her hands now on her hips, her grin turning sly and just shy of inappropriate. “Also,” Jinx said, lowering her voice conspiratorially, though it was still loud enough for everyone to hear, “I gotta say, if I could rock hair like that and armor that tight, I’d be unstoppable. Seriously, you make the whole ‘terrifying warrior queen’ thing look hot.”
Ashe’s piercing gaze finally shifted to Jinx, her expression unreadable but colder than the snow surrounding them. She didn’t flinch, didn’t react—not outwardly, at least. Her bow remained steady in her grip, and for a moment, the faint hum of its string grew louder, almost like a warning.
Caitlyn hissed through gritted teeth, her patience now worn paper-thin. “Jinx, enough,” she snapped, stepping closer to the loose cannon beside her. Her voice was low and sharp, heavy with exasperation.
But Jinx only grinned wider, raising her hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. “You’ve gotta admit, Cait, she’s got the whole ‘untouchable badass’ thing down. If she wasn’t pointing that bow at us, I’d be asking for tips.”
Caitlyn closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she muttered, “I’m going to kill you before this is over.” She turned back to Ashe, her voice suddenly firm. “Warmother, I apologize for—”
Ashe raised a gloved hand, silencing Caitlyn without a word. Her gaze remained fixed on Jinx, sharp and calculating, before she turned her attention back to Mel as though nothing had happened. The silent dismissal was more damning than words, and even Jinx seemed momentarily impressed.
“Well,” Jinx murmured under her breath, her grin turning almost wistful. “Now that’s how you make an impression.”
Ashe didn’t respond verbally. She didn’t even spare Jinx a glance. Without a word or a single break in her composure, she raised her bow with the fluidity of a predator striking its prey and loosed an arrow. The crystalline projectile sliced through the frigid air, its icy tip grazing Jinx’s ear with surgical precision before embedding itself into the snowbank behind her. The sharp thwip of the arrow’s flight was followed by a soft hiss of displaced wind and the muted thud of snow cascading from the ridge where the arrow had struck.
Jinx froze for a split second, her glowing eyes wide in genuine surprise. Her hand shot up instinctively to touch her ear, which now stung faintly from the arrow’s graze. For a heartbeat, it seemed she might react with anger or even retaliation, but then her expression shifted. Slowly, her lips stretched into a manic grin—wider, sharper, and filled with unrestrained glee. Her fingers dropped from her ear as she broke into a low, delighted laugh.
“Oh, I like you even more now,” Jinx said, her voice practically dripping with excitement. Her eyes glinted with something between admiration and chaos as she looked at Ashe like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Can we please be besties? I’ll bring the explosives, you bring the arrows—it’ll be epic! We’ll be unstoppable. Just think of all the mayhem we could cause.”
Ashe, unbothered, simply lowered her bow with an ease that suggested she’d already dismissed Jinx entirely. Her posture remained unshaken, her movements precise, as though she’d swatted a particularly irritating insect. “Control your companion,” she said evenly, her voice calm but cutting like the edge of an icy blade.
Caitlyn groaned audibly, the weight of her frustration pressing visibly onto her shoulders. She pinched the bridge of her nose as if attempting to physically restrain her irritation from spilling over. “I’m trying,” she muttered, her words taut with exasperation. She then turned to Jinx, her blue eyes blazing with warning. “Stop. Helping.”
Jinx, entirely unaffected, raised her hands in mock surrender. “What? She started it,” she said with a grin that only grew bolder as she leaned toward Ashe, her tone taking on a teasing, almost flirtatious edge. “For the record, though, you’re really good at this whole intimidating warrior queen thing. Big fan.” Her gaze drifted lower, unabashedly appraising Ashe from head to toe, lingering just a beat too long on her hips and the sharp line of her stride as she shifted her weight. “And can I just say—your whole look? Ten out of ten. The bow, the hair, the ‘don’t mess with me’ energy… You’ve got the whole damn package.”
Caitlyn hissed through her teeth, her patience clearly at its breaking point. “Jinx,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous, “stop talking.”
But Jinx wasn’t finished. Her eyes flicked back to Ashe, her grin turning almost predatory. “I mean, seriously, even your ass is intimidating. Like, do you train for that kind of perfection, or does it just happen naturally when you’re a badass frost queen?”
Ashe shifted her weight slightly, the faintest tightening of her jaw the only indication she’d even registered Jinx’s words. Her gaze, however, remained fixed on Mel as though Jinx didn’t exist, her poise and calm demeanor unbroken despite the blatant provocation.
“Is this a normal part of your negotiations?” Ashe asked Mel coolly, the faintest edge of dry amusement lacing her words.
Mel, to her credit, didn’t miss a beat. “Now… Unfortunately, yes,” she replied smoothly, her tone unwavering as though she hadn’t just witnessed Jinx narrowly avoid an arrow to the skull. “But I assure you, her… enthusiasm is entirely harmless.”
“Mostly harmless,” Jinx chimed in with a wink. “Depends on your definition.”
Caitlyn groaned louder this time, glaring at Jinx with a look that promised a long and painful lecture later. Meanwhile, Ashe, still ignoring Jinx entirely.
“And you believe this gemstone of yours is here?” Ashe asked, her voice as steady as the frigid winds around them, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos beside her.
Mel inclined her head, her golden eyes meeting Ashe’s with unwavering confidence. “Yes,” she said firmly. “We tracked its energy signature to this region. If we fail to recover it, the consequences will reach far beyond these lands. We are asking for your aid—or at the very least, your neutrality. We cannot afford delay.”
Ashe studied Mel for a moment longer, her sharp gaze weighing the words and their speaker with the precision of a hunter considering its prey. Her posture remained rigid but controlled, the faint hum of her bow the only sound in the charged silence.
Jinx, ever the chaos magnet, slung her arm around Caitlyn’s shoulder with a casualness that bordered on infuriating. Leaning heavily against the Sheriff, she let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with unrestrained delight as she watched Ashe with unbridled glee. “This is great,” Jinx declared, her voice loud enough to carry over the howling wind. Her grin was so wide it threatened to split her face, as though the entire scenario had been scripted just for her entertainment. “Tension, drama, hot warrior queens threatening people—it’s like my birthday. All we need now is cake. Maybe some fireworks.”
Caitlyn stiffened under Jinx’s weight, her patience hanging by a thread. With a sharp inhale, she threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m surrounded by a lunatic,” she muttered, her tone low but heavy with frustration. Her icy glare turned on Jinx, who remained completely unfazed, her arm still draped over Caitlyn as though they were at a casual party instead of negotiating for their lives.
But Jinx wasn’t done. Her attention drifted back to Ashe, her grin somehow widening. The glint in her eyes was equal parts admiration and unrestrained chaos, as though she were weighing whether to challenge Ashe to a fight or crown her as her new favorite person. “You’ve gotta admit,” Jinx whispered conspiratorially to Caitlyn, as if Ashe couldn’t hear her, “she’s got the whole ‘I’ll kill you without breaking a sweat’ vibe down. I think I’m in love.”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp features betraying nothing as she weighed Mel’s words. The silence stretched, heavy and taut, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind and the faint, almost melodic hum of Ashe’s bow. Her piercing gaze swept over the group, sharp and calculating, as if she were stripping away every layer of pretense to reveal their intentions. When she finally spoke, her tone was measured, deliberate, each word cutting through the icy air. “You may pass, but first…” She trailed off, her words hanging like a blade over the group. Her gaze swept over them once more, lingering on Jinx.
Jinx, leaned forward slightly, her glowing eyes gleaming with mischief. She grinned broadly, a wild, toothy expression that practically dared Ashe to react. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful arrogance. To punctuate her words, she blew Ashe a kiss, the gesture exaggerated and deliberately mocking.
Caitlyn’s patience was visibly hanging by a thread, her jaw tight as her icy blue eyes locked onto Jinx with a glare so sharp it felt like a weapon. She moved quickly, placing both hands firmly on Jinx’s shoulders, forcing the younger woman to face her. “Jinx,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice low and cutting as she leaned in closer. Her grip was firm but not forceful, her fingers curling slightly as if trying to anchor Jinx in place. “Remember why we are here,” she said, her tone steady yet tinged with urgency. She dropped her voice further, so only Jinx could hear her next word. “Vi.”
The single name hit Jinx like a hammer, cracking through her playful bravado. Her grin faltered, and for a moment, her mismatched eyes widened, a flicker of raw emotion breaking through the chaos. The usual wild spark in her gaze dimmed as vulnerability slipped into its place, a shadow of the pain she carried buried deep within. The mention of Vi was like a wound reopening, the name sinking into her chest like a stone and dragging her bravado down with it.
Jinx’s breathing hitched slightly, and she stared at Caitlyn with an expression that was almost childlike—confused, uncertain, and painfully exposed. Her hands, which moments ago had been gesturing with reckless energy, now hung limp at her sides. For all her sharp words and unruly confidence, Jinx looked lost, her grin replaced by a trembling resolve to hold herself together.
Caitlyn’s hard expression softened, the tension in her grip easing as she shifted her tone. Her thumbs began to rub slow, calming circles into Jinx’s shoulders, an almost instinctive gesture of comfort. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice steady but carrying a warmth that cut through the icy winds around them. “I need you here. I need you focused. For her.”
Jinx blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake off the weight of Caitlyn’s words. A faint, shaky smile tugged at her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah… yeah, I know,” she muttered, her voice quieter than usual, though the chaotic energy still simmered beneath the surface. She glanced away for a moment, her gaze darting to the snow beneath her boots before returning to Caitlyn. “I just—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Caitlyn interrupted gently, giving Jinx’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Her own emotions were tightly controlled, but the faint shine in her eyes betrayed the weight she carried. “Just don’t lose sight of her. We’ll find her. Together.”
For a fleeting moment, the tension between them melted away, replaced by an unspoken understanding. Jinx nodded slowly, her fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to lash out in her usual way. Her vulnerability, raw and rare, was tucked away almost as quickly as it had surfaced, but the moment lingered between them like a fragile thread.
Ashe watched the exchange from a distance, her piercing gaze sharp and unyielding. Though she couldn’t hear the words being spoken, she could see the emotions etched into the faces of the two women. Caitlyn’s firm resolve and quiet compassion, Jinx’s chaotic facade briefly cracking to reveal something far more human. It was a dynamic Ashe recognized—strength tempered by pain, connection forged in the fire of shared loss.
Her expression remained unreadable, but a faint tilt of her head betrayed a flicker of understanding, or perhaps curiosity. Ashe’s gaze shifted away, the brief observation tucked away as she returned her focus to Mel, her calm, commanding demeanor unbroken.
Without a word, Ashe raised her bow with the grace of a seasoned predator, her every movement precise and deliberate. The crystalline weapon gleamed faintly in the pale light, the string humming softly as she pulled it taut. With a single, fluid motion, she loosed an arrow. The projectile sliced through the icy air with a faint, melodic hum, its trajectory deliberate and controlled. As it climbed higher, the sharp, faceted edges of the arrow began to shimmer, refracting the dim light into a cascade of icy hues. Mid-flight, its shape began to shift—transforming seamlessly into the delicate form of a bird.
The glowing construct soared above them, its icy wings spreading wide as it caught the wind, gliding effortlessly against the gray sky. Snowflakes seemed to swirl in its wake as it circled the ridges, the faint light of its form casting fleeting patterns across the ground below. For a moment, it hovered, a beacon against the bleak expanse, before finally disappearing into the horizon, its light fading into the storm.
The signal, though almost imperceptible, carried weight far beyond its subtlety. The ridges surrounding them stirred to life as if roused by Ashe’s command. Movement flickered at the edges of Caitlyn’s vision—shadowy figures emerging from their hidden perches among the snow-covered rocks and icy outcroppings. Their forms, cloaked in white and gray, blended seamlessly with the frozen terrain, their movements swift and silent like ghosts retreating into the mist.
Caitlyn watched in silent awe as the warriors began to vanish, one by one, melting back into the frozen landscape as if they had never been there. There was no sound, no lingering footprints in the snow, no disturbance to mark their passage. Only the faint ripple of unease remained, a whisper of their presence hanging in the cold air.
The realization that they had been surrounded the entire time sent a sharp chill down Caitlyn’s spine, colder and more biting than the wind cutting through her coat. Her hand instinctively tightened on her rifle, her fingers curling around the familiar grip as her sharp eyes scanned the retreating figures. She followed their movements until they disappeared entirely, her mind racing with questions. How many had been watching? How close had they been? And how much danger were they truly in?
As the last figure vanished into the snowy expanse, Caitlyn let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her hands, steady as ever, lowered the rifle slightly, though her posture remained tense and alert. She finally turned back toward Jinx, releasing her grip on the younger woman’s shoulder.
Jinx, however, seemed utterly unfazed. She leaned back slightly, her short hair with the single red streak swaying lightly. “Show-offs,” she muttered, though her tone carried a note of genuine admiration. She tilted her head toward Ashe. “So, does everyone here have the whole ‘melt-into-the-snow’ trick, or is that just for the cool kids?”
Caitlyn groaned audibly, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she muttered, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Ashe, unfazed by the entire exchange, lowered her bow with practiced ease, the faint hum of its string fading into the wind. She turned her gaze back to Mel, her sharp features unreadable but commanding. For Ashe, this had been a small demonstration, a quiet reminder of the power and vigilance that surrounded her. For Caitlyn and her companions, it was a stark warning: the Freljord was not a place to be underestimated.
“You know my name,” Ashe said at last, her tone even but edged with authority. Her piercing gaze locked onto Mel, sharp and unyielding, like an arrow drawn taut. “But you have yet to introduce yourself—or your companions.”
Mel inclined her head slightly, her golden eyes meeting Ashe’s without flinching. Her poise remained unshaken, her voice calm and deliberate. “I am Mel Medarda of Piltover,” she said with measured respect. “These are my companions: Caitlyn Kiramman, Sheriff of Piltover, and Jinx, a… specialist.”
Jinx, standing slightly to the side, twirled her pistol in one hand with practiced ease before giving a mock salute. “Specialist, huh? Fancy way to put it,” she said, her grin widening as her mismatched eyes flicked between Mel and Ashe. “You make me sound like I went to school or something.”
Ashe’s icy blue eyes lingered on Jinx for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. There was no humor in her gaze, no flicker of acknowledgment. Only a silent, calculating assessment—the kind of look a warrior gives before deciding whether to draw their blade. Caitlyn recognized it instantly and tensed, her hand brushing the strap of her rifle. But Jinx, didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, she stared back at Ashe with the unshaken confidence of someone who had no concept of caution.
Finally, Ashe turned her attention back to Mel. “Acceptable,” she murmured, her clipped tone carrying a quiet finality.
Without further preamble, Ashe turned sharply on her heel and began walking, her steps light yet deliberate. Her fur-lined cloak swept behind her, its edges dusted with frost. “Follow me,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for negotiation. “We go to Ghulfrost.”
The faint glow of her bow pulsed softly in the dim light as she moved, a constant reminder of her readiness to act. Ashe walked with the grace of someone who belonged to the wilds, her boots barely leaving a mark in the snow as she navigated the terrain with ease. Her every motion carried an effortless confidence, her head held high, shoulders squared, and posture taut with purpose. Even as she turned her back to them, there was an undeniable tension in her movements—a silent warning that she was ready to strike at the first sign of betrayal.
Caitlyn adjusted her grip on her rifle, her sharp eyes scanning the landscape as she fell in step behind Mel. She glanced at Jinx, who trailed slightly behind her, with an exasperated sigh. “Try to behave,” Caitlyn muttered under her breath, her voice low but heavy with warning.
Jinx shrugged, a picture of carefree defiance as she tucked her pistol back into its holster with an exaggerated flourish. “What? I’m on my best behavior,” she said innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes said otherwise.
But Jinx’s attention wasn’t on Caitlyn or even Mel anymore. Her gaze had locked onto Ashe’s retreating form, a predatory grin spreading across her face. It wasn’t admiration in the traditional sense; it was the unfiltered chaos that lived inside Jinx, drawn to strength and control like a moth to a flame. Her eyes roamed shamelessly, lingering far too long on Ashe’s ass as it swayed with each deliberate step.
“She’s got that whole ‘queen of the tundra’ thing going on,” Jinx mused aloud, her tone practically dripping with amusement. “And damn, look at her walk—like she’s about to conquer the next kingdom over.” Her grin widened as her eyes flicked lower, entirely unbothered by Caitlyn’s growing frustration. “You think she practices that strut? Because I’m telling you, that’s art.”
Caitlyn froze mid-step, spinning on her heel to glare at Jinx. “For the love of—Jinx, stop ogling her!” she hissed, her voice sharp and hushed, as though trying to contain her fury.
Jinx raised her hands in mock surrender, her grin as wide and unapologetic as ever. “What? I’m just appreciating the scenery,” she said with a wicked laugh, her mismatched eyes glinting with unrestrained mischief. “Come on, Cupcake, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice. The ice queen’s got a world-class ass. Like, seriously—warrior, leader, and built like that? It’s not fair.”
Caitlyn’s face flushed—not from the biting cold this time, but from a mix of frustration and something dangerously close to embarrassment. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to find the words, her rifle strap tightening under her grip. “I—this is not the time for this!” she snapped, her voice low but laced with warning. “Focus, Jinx. Focus.”
She forced herself to look anywhere but Ashe, her sharp blue eyes narrowing on the path ahead. The only ass Caitlyn cared about was Vi’s—and that was the problem. The thought hit her with an ache she didn’t have time to deal with, tightening her resolve. Shaking her head, she shot Jinx a glare so sharp it could have cut through ice. “We’re here for Vi, not your running commentary,” she added firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
But Jinx wasn’t done. She leaned closer to Caitlyn, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Bet she could kill a man just by walking away like that,” she murmured with a smirk. “Wouldn’t that be something to see?”
Caitlyn groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment before quickening her pace to put distance between herself and the grinning chaos beside her. Jinx, unfazed and clearly enjoying herself, continued to watch Ashe with unrepentant glee.
“Besides,” Jinx added with a wink in Caitlyn’s direction, “I think she likes me. I’ve got a way with queens, you know.”
The snow crunched beneath their boots, muffled by the relentless howl of the wind, and the biting cold pressed in from all sides like an invisible force. The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy weight that settled on their shoulders as they followed the Warmother deeper into the frozen wilderness. Every step felt like a gamble, the stakes impossibly high.
Caitlyn’s senses were on high alert, every shadow and distant noise drawing her attention. The Freljord was as much a threat as its inhabitants—its harsh terrain, unpredictable storms, and unseen predators could strike without warning. Ashe moved ahead of them with the confidence of someone who belonged in this hostile environment, her light steps barely disturbing the snow. In contrast, Caitlyn felt like an intruder in this vast, unforgiving landscape. Every crunch of her boots felt loud, every breath visible in the icy air a reminder of her vulnerability here.
As they trudged on, Caitlyn’s thoughts churned relentlessly. Ashe wasn’t an ally—at least, not yet—but she wasn’t an enemy either. Not yet. The stories Caitlyn had heard of the Warmother painted her as a formidable leader, a woman who could command armies and unite tribes with equal measures of strength and diplomacy. She was someone who valued loyalty and purpose, someone who could see through lies with the precision of an arrow. If they wanted her help—or even just her neutrality—they would need to tread carefully. Caitlyn tightened her grip on her rifle, the cold steel grounding her as she mentally prepared for the delicate balance they would need to maintain.
Jinx, by contrast, seemed utterly unaffected by the tension. She trudged through the snow with a kind of reckless energy, her eyes darting around as if searching for something to entertain her. Occasionally, she glanced at Ashe with a spark of curiosity, her grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as though she were daring the Warmother to acknowledge her. Caitlyn suppressed a sigh, her patience stretched thin by Jinx’s unpredictability. Every move Jinx made felt like another layer of risk—another opportunity for disaster.
And then there was Mel, walking with the same measured grace as Ashe, her golden eyes focused and unwavering. Caitlyn couldn’t help but admire Mel’s poise in the face of such uncertainty. She carried herself like someone who had navigated dangerous negotiations before, her presence calm but commanding. Caitlyn could only hope Mel’s diplomacy would be enough to keep them on Ashe’s good side.
Yet, beneath Caitlyn’s outward focus, a deeper, more personal thought gnawed at her. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a small, desperate hope flickered like a fragile ember. This mission wasn’t just about the gemstone, or stopping Ambessa. For Caitlyn, it was about Vi. Every step they took into the frozen wilderness felt like a step closer to answers—closer to Vi. Whether that meant finding her alive, broken, or something worse, Caitlyn couldn’t stop the hope from growing, even as it threatened to overwhelm her.
Her breath came in sharp bursts, visible in the frigid air as they pressed forward. Ashe moved ahead like a ghost, her pale hair and fur-lined cloak blending into the snowy expanse, while the trio struggled to match her pace. The wilderness stretched endlessly around them, a white void that seemed to swallow sound and motion alike. Yet, Caitlyn’s resolve didn’t waver. If answers lay somewhere ahead, she would find them—no matter the cost.