The Lone Wolf of the Freljord by Mint Tinkerer

Lothar, husband of the Freljord war mother Ashe, Lord of the boundless snow, 【Wolf of the Freljord】.

Rorschach, the husband of Laxana, the daughter of the Crown Guard family, the leader of the Demacian revolution, the founder of the new code, the [Ring of Demacia].

Killed, heir to General Du Kakao, husband of his daughter Katarina, top assassin of Noxus, member of Trifali Council of Three, [Blood of Noxus].

Naked idiot, a lunatic who haunts Piltover and Zaun, known for abetting crime and serial killings, and the highest bounty for criminals, [The Calamity of Zaun].

Rakshasa, the lord of the large sect of Ionia, the husband of the rebel leader Irelia, [Ionia's Punishment].

Luosha, the orthodox Crown Prince of the Shurima Empire, the husband of Princess Sivir of Shurima, the Ascendant of Shurima, the Burial of Yellow Sand, [Shurima Violence].

Luo Sha, one of the horror legends of Bilgewater, the captain of the deep-sea undead fleet, the slayer of the alley, [The Terror of Bilgewater].

Losa, Ixtar's strongest Yuental, husband of the tenth princess Qiyana, weaver of axioms in the early Yuan Dynasty, [Ixtar's Principles]. …

Few people know that they are actually the same person.

Chapter 1 Ashe

"Ashe, pick it up."

Mother's words were neither warm nor cold to Ashe, more like a matter of course.

A dagger, a dagger made of ice, was quietly placed on the wooden table in front of Ashe. The surface of the dagger exudes a deep, dim light, and it is difficult to describe its color. It is as dark blue as a thousand-year-old ice, and as pale as a barren snowfield.

Even just standing next to it, Ashe felt the chill piercing her skin, colder than the coldest winter three years ago.

There was an urge to escape in Ashe's heart. She didn't want to get close to the dagger, she wanted to get close to the stove, preferably with a bowl of hot soup. If she went to her aunt's house now, she might also get a bowl of hot broth, which might also contain diced white venison and pyracantha root.

"Stop thinking about soup, you idiot." Ashe took a deep breath and stared at the dagger on the table, "You can do it, Ashe, you can pick it up."

Ashe stretched out her hands firmly, and before her ten slender fingers touched the dagger, she began to tremble faintly.

She gripped the grip of the dagger, and it felt like she was holding a hand full of sharp ice. The biting cold took away the sensation of her palm in an instant, and the pain began to spread along her arm.

"Hold on! You can do it!" Ash yelled inwardly.

Excuse me!

Ash couldn't hold on.

The dagger fell from her hands and fell on the wooden table.

Ashe's hands trembled uncontrollably, she bowed her head deeply, not daring to look into her mother's eyes.

She was afraid of seeing disappointment.

Glenna's big rough hands rested on the top of Ashe's head, and lightly combed her pale golden hair: "It's okay, Ashe."

"But, mother..."

"You are my daughter." Glenna interrupted Ashe with a loving tone, "You are the future mother-in-law, proud of the ice bloodline, it will be a matter of time to control the real ice weapon, you are still young, don't worry ."

"Yeah, I'm still young..." Ashe remembers her mother's first words to her when she first had her period at the age of ten, and four or five winters later, Glenna repeated the same words every year. .

"I'll have to wait a few more winters before I grow up?" Ashe thought in confusion.

Glenna picked up the real ice dagger in one hand and put it back on the weapon rack. The weapon that Ashe couldn't even hold seemed to have no effect on Glenna.

Glenna's generous and warm hands grabbed Ashe's frozen red hands and let them recover slowly: "Go to sleep, you have to get up early tomorrow to drive."

"Yes, Mom..." Ash was silent for a while, "Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I'll draw the map a little longer."

"It's drawing a map again..." Ashe didn't say what she wanted to say, she nodded silently, and walked back to her tent.

Ashe turned her head back before leaving, Glenna had already immersed herself in the desk and kept writing.

Ashe didn't go to bed, she couldn't sleep, she wanted to go for a walk and relax.

"Mother won't notice." Ashe put on her hood. "As soon as she draws the picture, she won't notice any movement."

Walking out of the big tent, it was pitch black outside, and the snow was blowing. Ashe exhaled a white breath and walked into the snowy night alone.

"Winter is coming soon." Ashe was wearing a thin shirt, feeling the temperature of the air. Every winter in Freljord is very cold, so cold that it can freeze living people to death, "This winter, the clan may be reborn again. Some people can't make it through."

Ashe hugged her bare arms. Ordinary people would have been frostbitten if they wore so little, but Ashe only got a little goosebumps.

"I don't know if my aunt's house is sleeping or not. I hope I can get a hot soup to drink." Ashe walked in the thick snow, and the footprints she left were soon filled with snow again.

There was no light in the tent of my aunt's house, only the flames on the torches at the door were still lingering in the snow.

"They may have fallen asleep." Ashe was a little disappointed, "I'd better not disturb them."

Ashe turned her head and walked back. She began to regret a little why she had come out. It would be much easier to curl up in the bed and think about it.

Ashe walked past the tents, no one was still lit by the fire, only the howling of the wind and snow could be heard.

"Is he still awake?" On the way back, Ashe saw a small tent with a dim yellow halo.

"Are you going to see him?" Ashe stopped and hesitated for a moment.

Finally, Ashe walked slowly to the small tent and stopped.

"Forget it..." Ashe planned to leave.

"Why are you standing at the door of my house, come in." A boy's voice came from the small tent.

"Damn, he's still so sharp." Ashe sighed, opened the thick tent curtain, and arched in.

The inside of the tent was smaller than it looked from the outside, but it was well-stocked—a sleeping bag made of boarskin that doubled as a rug; a pot for soup, and a brazier below for warmth; a The one-handed hammer with the dent behind the head, Ashe knew it was used to smash the skulls of prey, but it was now functioning as a spoon, stirring it around in the cooking pot.

"It smells so good." As soon as Ashe entered the tent, she smelled the rich aroma of hot soup. Just smelling the smell, the cold on her body was dispelled.

"Vison soup." It was a boy who was sitting in a tent making soup. He had messy black hair, and his black eyes reflected the throbbing flames. "With pyracantha root."

"My favorite." Ashe sat down opposite the boy.

The boy raised his eyes and looked at Ashe: "This venison is my prey today, there is no reason to give it to you, right?"

Ashe glared at the boy angrily: "I'll go back if I don't give it to me."

The boy thought for a moment: "I want to give you a bowl, and rub my chest for me."

Ash got up and left.

"Hey, hey, don't go! I'm joking!" The boy grabbed Ashe's wrist, "This soup is made just for you."

Ashe smiled with satisfaction and sat down again.

The boy took out a bowl of bear skulls, filled it with broth, and handed it to Ashe, along with a wooden spoon.

Ashe took the broth with both hands. Pyracantha roots cut into small pieces floated in the milky white soup. Ashe scooped the bottom of the bowl with a spoon, and the heavy pieces of venison were brought out of the soup noodles.

Ashe had a great appetite, and ate a piece of white venison in one bite. The venison was so badly cooked that it melted in your mouth.

"How's it going?" the boy asked as he poured soup for himself.

Ashe held the bowl and sipped the soup by the side of the bowl. His internal organs were moistened by the hot soup, as if a warm fire was ignited in his body.

"It's delicious." Ashe sighed.

The boy gave a happy smile, and he began to feast on himself.

Ashe felt the warmth of the soup bowl, and couldn't help looking at the boy beside her.

"Do you really want to be my blood alliance?" Ashe asked.

The boy raised his head with a natural look: "Of course, otherwise why would I be so nice to you? Do you think cooking soup in the middle of the night and waiting for you is a pastime?"

"But I can't necessarily be a war mother?"

"You can definitely become a war mother." The boy seemed to be convinced of this. "Glena said so, so you can definitely."

Ashe turned his gaze back to the hot soup, the steam kept rising, but erratic.

like her destiny.

————————————————————————

The vast majority of the Freljord clans are matriarchal, that is, women generally have a higher status than men. Among them, the woman with the highest status leading the entire clan is called the "Warmother".

—Excerpt from Ezreal's Travels of Valoran: The Freljord Chapter 1: The Making of Society

Chapter 2 Blood Alliance

Ashe took a sip of the hot soup and exhaled comfortably: "I think, the matter of being a blood alliance still has to be based on love."

"I love you." The boy stared at Ash.

"Lothar!" Ashe glared at the boy fiercely, "Don't talk about love casually! You don't even know what love is!"

"Then do you understand?" the boy called Lothar asked rhetorically.

"Of course I understand!"

"tell me the story?"

"Love is..." Ash paused, "two people want to be together."

"I do want to stay with you."

"This is not the same! You just want to be the blood alliance of the War Mother, so that you don't get kicked out by the clan."

Lothar tilted his head: "I love you and I don't want to be kicked out of the clan conflict?"

"It's not conflict, but that's not love!"

"That's love." Lothar was very determined.

"Then tell me, where do you love me?"

"Long pale blond hair, sky blue eyes, skin like suet, **** that grow bigger and bigger every year, buttocks that grow bigger every year..."

"Stop, stop!" Ashe hurriedly covered Lothar's mouth to stop him from saying any more, "You are so nasty!"

"Look, Ashe, you have a lot to love about you." Lothar said without blushing, "so it's not surprising that I fell in love with you."

"Hey, let's do it..." Ashe knew that she couldn't tell Lothar, "I won't let you be my husband anyway."

Lothar smiled and said nothing.

The two drank the soup silently.

Ashe looked at Lothar's profile and thought, "This kid won't really like me, will he?"

Ashe blushed a little, shook his head quickly to get the idea out of his mind, and thought of a topic to divert his attention: "Lothar, who are you and me who are older?"

Lothar put down the soup bowl: "I don't know, I was picked up by Warmother Glenna from the wolf's den. It may be bigger or smaller than you."

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm older than you."

"But you're not taller than me."

"It's normal for girls to grow faster. After two winters, you'll have to look up at me." Lothar said disdainfully.

"If you call me sister, I'll consider you my husband."

"Sister." Lothar immediately gave up her desire to compete for the elders.

Ashe burst out laughing, she patted Lothar's back hard: "Liar to you! I don't want you!"

"But I am the best hunter in the clan, and the soup is also the best." Lothar said in dissatisfaction.

"Then I can consider you as my valet or cook, but husband, don't even think about it!"

Lothar lowered his head in dissatisfaction and stopped looking at Ashe.

Ashe drank the soup quickly: "I'm leaving, the clan has to travel tomorrow, you should go to bed earlier too."

"Don't you stay and sleep together?"

"Okay, if I'm caught sleeping with you, you'll be torn to shreds by mom tomorrow morning." Ashe said with a smile.

Lothar rolled his eyes dejectedly and waved at Ashe: "Let's go."

Ashe's mood improved a lot, she put on her hood again, left the warm tent, and walked back into the cold snowy night.

Ashe's footsteps were much lighter than when she first came out of her house, and the wind was stronger, blowing out many torches in the clan, but Ashe didn't feel that cold, and the hot soup she had just eaten kept providing her with food. warm.

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