#ashe stuff

From her vantage point, Ashe could see the people of her small tribe were busy at work preparing for her mother's triumphant arrival from the raid. Down there, they'd be skinning and gutting rabbits for the feast and preparing the flagons for the copious amounts of mead that would be consumed in the celebration. In her heart, she knew she should be happy to see her mother return and to celebrate the warriors who fought daily to keep the tribe safe. Instead, she was consumed by the shame of perpetually being not-good-enough in her mother's eyes. Week after week she was left home instead of honing her skills during raids. Month after month she could feel herself falling into one of the lesser roles of the tribe, namely the gatherers. It stung her more than the ice shards in a blizzard.

Above the bustling nestle of cabins, Ashe was perched on a large boulder that was jutting out of the side of the small mountain that overlooked her home. The mountain was overgrown with snow-topped evergreens and was quiet. This place was her escape and she took solace in the fact that she could comfortably stay here and watch and know that even if a villager happened to glance up, she wouldn't be seen. There was only one person who knew of her 'happy place', as he called it. His name was Cyril Buchlisen and he was perhaps her closest, if not only, friend. Often enough if she was missing he'd climb a couple minutes up the mountainside to find her. They wouldn't speak, just sit and watch the town below. She felt guilty for it, but he was really the only person she was looking forward to coming home. From her perch, she kept an eye out for his abnormally colored auburn hair.

For most of her teen years, she'd hated Cyril. In the archery training classes, he'd been the prodigy. She too was a prodigy of the art, but she hated him because he'd risen quickly through the ranks in her mother's favor as she'd stayed behind. Cyril had always been the quiet type, and when Ashe was young she saw his silence as arrogance.Her skin crawled in his presence, and he quickly became the benchmarker of her sucess. 'Shoot quicker than Cyril', 'Be more accurate than Cyril', 'Become better than Cyril'. Eventually she'd become more on point in her shooting, and she and Cyril were labelled "too advanced" for the teen's archery classes. Cyril was promoted hunter by ceremony, and Ashe looked forward to going through the same ceremony.

The harsh reality was that in Aithne's eyes, Ashe was still unworthy of the hunter title. Instead for the past year, Ashe had been recieving "private lessons" from her mother...in plain view of the entire homestead. It was after these lessons that Cyril the Hunter had come back into the picture. There were nights where Aithne had given up on Ashe's perfection and left her in the snow, and on those nights Cyril came to bandage her wounds. She felt this was some sort of punishment from her Mother, a handful of salt in the wounds that he was wrapping. One night, instead of waiting for him to come out of the woodwork, she walked up the mountain. She held her bow and arrow and bloodied fingers in her lap and peered over the rock. She watched the archers get on their horses and prepare for that night's boar hunt. She watched and she hated them. That was where Cyril found her.

Something broke inside of Ashe, and she leapt to her feet, arrow strung and pointing at his forehead. She was far from firm, shaking from more from anger and hurt than from the cold. "Why do you always come? Is it because my Mother tells you? Because no one else will? Or is it because you love to see my suffering?" She expected him to attack her, but he only led up his bowstring-calloused hands and looked her in the eyes. "You mother's never sent me. I send myself because I want to help you." Ashe had thrown her weapons into the snow and jumped down from the outcropped rock. He'd caught up to her and forcibly bandaged her hand, but she had barely struggled. From then on, he followed her up the mountain.

On several occasions she'd threatened to shoot him or push him down the moutntain, but he always stayed. Over time, they became very close. Ashe was fourteen, three years away from being of marriageable age. Cyril was a year older than her, but more and more she began hoping she'd be promised to him. Her feelings didn't go unnoticed by him, and she was overjoyed to find he cared for her just as much. Hidden from the watchful eye of her mother, she'd already had her first kiss and many more. Their occasional nights on the mountain and the even rarer scout duties that they were put on were the only times Ashe was truly happy. Two nights before, Ashe had been with Cyril on the mountain. He informed her that the warriors were leaving in the morning for a raid, and told Ashe that he planned to talk to Aithne about betrothing them on the way home because she'd be in a better mood after their victory. Even if Aithne wouldn't ever decide to name her the real successor to the tribe, at least Ashe knew she'd be happy and well taken care of by the best warrior of the town. With a handful of goodbye kisses and his embrace, Cyril was gone when the sun rose.

Ashe snapped out of her reverie and noticed that the warriors had returned. she could see them slowly approaching the village in the distance, but they were too far to distinguish any faces. Gracefully she hopped down from the boulder and began slowly descending the snowy bank. Ashe would try and sneak into the crowd from behind as she often did, to avoid being spotted. When she approached the closes cabin to the end of the village, she quickly realized something was amiss. The village was silent. there was no sound of cheering, no laughing, no sounds of work. Ashe's slow pace quickly turned into a sprint as she dashed between the cabins. At the mouth of the homestead, the entire villages was standing. The elderly, the children, the warriors, and their familes all silent with head bowed. Like curtains, they parted as she approached.

Ashe's throat tightened and her breath caught in her lungs when she reached the tribe's field general. Elvwar was a man who was build like an oak, and he towered over everyone in the village, but here in bowed in front of her, the tree had been cut in half. "Ashe. I have some news." That tone of voice twisted a knife in her gut. She realized all of the tribe's warriors were kneeling in the snow behind him, all of them surrounding four lumps of fur on top of shields. No. "There was an accident....the enemy has grown in number and we didn't forsee that. Our warriors fought bravely...but there were some casualties." Ashe was deafened by his words, her ears not registering the sobs of the people behind her or the whines of the horses.

Ashe's legs felt like lead as she carried herself towards the lumps covered in furs and blankets. She was paralyzed, she couldn't kneel of move. "Take the covers off." Ashe's voice was thick, and tears were already rolling down her face. Elvwar walked next to one of the heaps in the middle and sunk into the snow. The weight of all the Ironspike Mountains was on his shoulders as he removed the bloodied fur that Ashe knew so well. There on the shield was the bloodied face of Aithne, her face peaceful in death. "I'm so sorry, Ashe." Elvwar placed a hand on her shoulder, and it was all the more heavy with the realization that she was now the leader of her tribe at fifteen years old.

With tears starting to freeze on her face, she searched the crowd of archers kneeling in the snow and found the face that she so desperately needed to see was missing. Ashe herself pulled back the remaining furs. One was the female archer from next door. Another was a grizzled old man with a yellow beard. Her ice cold fingers faltered over the coonskin blanket that covered the last corpse. She pulled back the corner and found auburn hair caked in thick dark blood. Elvwar stopped her from pulling it back any more. "It's best that you don't reveal that one in front of the children. He died well. Cyril threw himself in front of your Mother to try to save her...but..." He didn't need to finish.

// Honestly what we know canon-speaking is that Avarosa was murdered. We know she was likely murdered because she was the one who started the rebellion against the Frozen Watchers. I myself believe that it’s possible that Lissandra came to Avarosa and told her that she’d changed her mind and wanted to come back, and because Avarosa was the most forgiving of the sisters, she believed Lissandra when Serylda would not have….and that’s when Lissandra killed her. It’s a well-educated guess considering that in her hidden Howling Abyss speech, she says the words “I never forgave her, I had my revenge…but that is another story.”

Now, considering that Serylda most likely joined Avarosa in the rebellion, this leaves Lissandra siding with the Watchers. After they fell, it would only make sense for her to go into hiding or fake her death to survive the purge of her own remaining iceborn followers. Once all of Lissandra’s followers were killed and she was safe in some secret black ice cave somewhere, we can assume that Avarosa had already appointed a new leader in case she died in the Battle of the Murder Bridge. This new leader took the reigns of the True Ice Archers. So we’ve got this new leader and Serylda. If Sejuani was any indication of what Serylda was like, we can assume that the truce Avarosa and her had was quickly worn thin with the new leader, and in her desire to rule Freljord now that Avarosa and Lissandra were gone, she most likely started another (shorter) war with the True Ice Archers. It’s entirely possible that Serylda herself could have died in her own war.

The air was still. Some may have called it calm, but to Ashe it was suffocating. A soft whirr whistled through the air as she let loose another arrow. It made a loud thumping noise as it hit the cloth and straw target that her tribe used for practice. It hit the burgundy circle in the center, but she didn't release the stinging breath in her lungs. She refused to take her eyes from the wooden arrow embedded in the target. She silently willed it to be the one. The snow crunched under slow steps that started from behind her and made their way to the target. Her arrow was inspected only for a second, and by the time the older woman rose from her kneel Ashe knew she'd failed again. Aithne turned to her daughter with a familiar scowl upon her fine features. Her greying blonde hair whipped around in the wind like a storm, making her seem even more intimidating.

"Tell me, Ashe..." Aithne's accusatory voice cut through her like a knife, and stung Ashe worse than her bleeding bowstring fingers. "Do you think this arrow is in the center of the target? Because it's not. You missed it. Again." As much as she wanted to, she did not look away from her Mother's face. She knew that if she displayed her shame, the castigation would only get worse. "With a shot like that, you'll never be worthy to take my place as leader." Ashe yanked the arrow out of the target and threw it into the snow harshly. Aithne then walked towards her daughter and grasped her arms roughly, again forcing her into the "proper position" to shoot a bow. "Do it again, and this time, don't miss." Her mother again stood behind her and watched her like a hawk. Again, she strung an arrow and the bowstring cut into the same area of her fingers, her blood coating the string. The crimson liquid was beginning the stain the feathers of her arrow, marking them with her struggle. Aithne had forbidden her to use gloves.

She pulled back the string and the muscles of her shoulder screamed in protest. She'd been doing this for hours, and not once had she gotten it right. Ashe knew her mother was only trying to groom her into being the perfect leader, but at times like this Ashe feared that if her mother was still able to beget children she would have been replaced by now. Ashe bit back the tears that had formed from the pain of her fingers, the biting cold, and her own horrible thoughts. She let go of the string and watch the arrow hit the burgundy target circle. She closed her eyes and listened, waiting for her mother's crunching footsteps to walk across the range and assess that she had failed again. Instead, she heard nothing.

Ashe turned and found her mother several feet away, talking to some of her scouts. Tomorrow was the day her mother had chosen to raid an enemy tribe. It was to be a routine operation, and Ashe longed to join her mother and prove her worth, but if was obvious in Aithne's eyes when she glanced at her daughter that should wouldn't be accompanying them. Aithne looked away, then followed the three scouts back to the village. Ashe's tired feet plodded through the snow towards the target. Occasionally some of the blood from her fingers would drip into the snow. After what seemed like an eternity, Ashe sank to her knees, the ice biting into her legs through her pants. She pressed her unbloodied hand to the target and trailed upwards until the tip of her pointer finger found the flint of her arrow. She pulled it gently out of the target, then rose her eyes to the hole resulting. From far away where she was shooting her arrows she couldn't see it, but she knew it had been there. In the very center of the dark red circle, there had been a black dot that marked the exact center of the target. The dot was now a hole in the cloth.

1st of August, 20 CLE: Princess Lissandra is crowned the new Ice Dervish, and immediately swears fealty to Princess Ashe, Frost Archer and Champion of the League. For her first speech, she pleads with her subjects to help put an end to the infighting that has plagued the region, swaying public opinion in her favor. 

15th of August, 20 CLE: Barbarian King and Champion of the League Tryndamere arrives in Rakelstake, Freljord at Princess Ashe’s invitation to pay his respects to the late Princess Mauvole of the Ice Dervish tribe, along with a procession of hundreds of barbarians.

30th of August, 20 CLE: Princess Ashe, the Frost Archer, announces she has accepted an offer of an alliance from the Barbarian King, Tryndamere. The terms of the alliance delineate that the united tribes of the Frost Archer and the Ice Dervish will grant the barbarians sancutary from Noxus’ Northern Barbarian-Pacification Campaign, and in return the barbarians will assist in defending the two tribes both from Noxian forces and from a possible attack from the third tribe, the Winter’s Claw, in retaliation for the other tribes’ unification.

Tryndamere: Ashe and Tryndamere met after the funeral of the late Princess Mauvole. Tryndamere and his large horde of barbarians had come to pay their respects and to honor her death. (Many thought that Ashe had invited the barbarians to the funeral to scare Sejuani from appearing there, but this is only a rumor). After the funeral, the two tribe leaders decided to become allies, and their forces merged into one. Their alliance lasted many years. During that course their numbers grew so much that Freljord was finally appointed its own city state, and therefore a chair for a Freljordian Emissary. Immediately after this news, Ashe became the appointed Queen of the Freljord by an overwhelming vote by the majority of the tribes. At this time, Ashe that she decided it was time to further cement her alliance with the Barbarians. She named Tryndamere her King. They were married on the 13th of September. Over the course of their marriage, she has gone from only seeing Tryndamere as a political ally to developing actual feelings for him. [ Related Blog ]

Anivia: Anivia was around during the War of the Three Sisters and had tried to stop it so corruption would not taint the land. She knew that brokering peace between the tribes would put an end to corruption. She came close, but then Avarosa was murdered. Anivia lost hope for many years and the war raged on until she met Ashe, the young leader of the Avarosan Tribe's descendants. Sharing the same hopes for the future, the two quickly became allies, and then good friends. Ashe will always first go to Anivia when she needs advice or someone to talk to. [ Related Blog ]

Gragas: Gragas came to Freljord seeking the Avarosa Iceflow, a glacier that produced the purest water in all of Runeterra. He told Ashe and Tryndamere his plans to brew alcohol with it, and they agreed to allow him to do it, so they too could capitalized on the unclaimed territory. This business venture eventually became one of Gragas' finest achievements: Graggy Ice. Gragas henceforth became business partners with the Avarosans and has since taught some of the craftsmen the art of brewery. Tryndamere and Gragas have since become good friends, and he is always welcome in the Stronghold. [ Related Blog ]

Nunu: Ashe and Tryndamere have had no success in producing an heir to this date. When Nunu and Willump came into their lands while exploring after leaving his home with the Frostguard, Ashe took to him immediately. She gave the Boy and his Yeti food and shelter before they set out again. A few months later the boy returned from another adventure and was thrilled to find that Ashe remembered him and even missed him. Ashe was fianlly giving him the affection he'd never received from his parents and caretakers when he lived in the Citadel. In a way, Nunu became Ashe and Tryndamere's foster child. As he grew older, and Ashe became Queen, he was the obvious choice to be the Freljordian Emissary for the League. Nunu was wise beyond his years, and she knew no one would mess with a child with a Yeti for a familiar. Nunu used his training as a Frostguard Beastmaster in order to train Ashe's Snowy Hawk to carry messages. [ Related Blog ]

Sejuani:  [ Related Blog ]

Olaf: She has seen Olaf a handful of times, mainly while traveling through Sejuani's lands. He is constantly at her side, and is an incredidly fierce warrior. For a time, it was speculated amongst the Avarosans that he ran his own barbarian tribe and he'd joined Sejuani to strengthen her numbers. This was found to be false, as Olaf had joined Sejuani on his own. Ashe is currently deciding whether she should become allies with those of Lokfar before Sejuani sets her eyes on them. On a more personal note, Ashe suspects that Olaf may have developed feelings for Sejuani during the course of their acquaintance. Ashe has no real beef with Olaf. She finds his company amusing, and moreso wishes she had claimed him as an ally before Sejuani.  [ Related Blog ]

Volibear: Volibear had once been a peaceful member of the Ursine tribe and a good friend of Ashe's up until he traveled to the Ursine's holy mountain in the Gelid Vortex. He came down a changed person, and instead of wanting peace, he wanted only to prepare the Ursine for some oncoming threat. He had a great falling out with Ashe, who only wanted peace. Because He thought she didn't take his warning seriously enough, he went and joined someone who would - Sejuani. [ Related Blog ]

Udyr: [ Related Blog ]

Lissandra: Lissandra was the oldest of the Three Sisters, and therefore is Ashe's great aunt by 14 generations. Like most people, she believed that Princess Mauvole had really died of natural causes and the new Princess braided leader was actually the Leader of the Ice Dervishes that she knew. It wasn't until the "Ice Dervishes" moved into the ancient ruins of the oldest's sister's castle and renamed themselves the Frostguard that Ashe began to have doubts. She realized the stories that she had been told as a child were drastically different than those being told to the Frostguards, He suspicions paired with mysterious sightings of the Ice Witch further proved her suspicions. After the newly renamed Frostguard established themselves in their new Citadel, strange deaths and disappearances began occuring all along the eastern border of Ashe's lands. Whispers of an ancient evil known as the Ice Witch rippled through all of Ashe's domain, and she threw herself into investigating the rumors. She scoured all of the history books she owned, but most seemed to be missing years of information. She found it strange, considering she'd grown up being told these stories and now seeing that they weren't written down. The deeper she dug, the more she suspected that the leader of the Frostguard wasn't who she seemed. She's drawing close to an answer, and she truly fears what she may find out. [ Related Blog ]

Trundle:  [ Related Blog ]

Aatrox: [ Related Blog ]

Ashe is 37. Her birthday is January 17th.

She is of the INTJ Personality Type.

Ashe's last name is Nottirys, which literally translates into "Daughter of Winter". 

Ashe has been married to Tryndamere for seven years.

She has been superstitious ever since the Gelid Vortex incident. As a result, she absolutely refuses to wear white.

During the Gelid Vortex incident, where she was spared by what some say was divine providence, All of her her hair turned from blonde to white, her skin became slightly paler, and her body temperature is lower than other humans (she's cold to the touch, but her skin in a little warmer in summer and spring).

She has a Snowy Hawk that she uses to send messages. The hawk often likes to bite Tryndamere when he tries to pet it. It is the same hawk that led her to Avarosa's gravesite, but it wasn't Ashe's offical hawk until Nunu trained it for her. The hawk's name is Aidri.

On the subject of Nunu, he is much like an adopted son for Ashe.

In the past five years that Ashe and Tryndamere have tried to produce an heir, they've had no luck. Ashe fears that whatever happened to her in the Gelid may have stopped her ability to have children, but she has no proof and hasn't spoken to anyone of her fears.

Ashe is ambidextrous, but she prefers to use her right hand to write.

The clothing that she wears to the institute isn't normally what she would wear in Freljord. It's similar to the summer clothing that Freljordians where in Southern Freljord. Her actual winter attire looks like this.

Ever since her tribe tried to rebel  against her and kill her, she's had a very hard time trusting people. This is part of the reason she's anxious about becoming close with her husband. She was incredibly cold to him in the beginning of their marriage.

Despite the fact that she married Tryndamere for only political reasons, she has started to fall for him slowly over the past few years. She has yet to admit this to anyone, maybe not even herself.

Ashe is very good at fitting in to new surroundings. She's quick to pick up new information and use it to further blend in to new places.

When using her enchanted bow, she's learned that the ice arrows form automatically by themselves. She prefers using a quiver, however, and usually keeps pre-made arrows on hand. The trick is useful when she runs out of those premade true ice arrows, though.

Ashe has picked up all the responsibilities of being Queen very well, but deep down inside, she often misses being "just a tribesperson". 

Even though she's Queen, she doesn't always act like one. She prefers normal clothing over gowns and finery, she still likes to sneak out of the castle to go scouting without escorts, and she still enjoys visiting all of her old friends in the log cabin village down the mountain from her castle.

Ashe has had to teach Tryndamere step-by-step on how to act like a royal, and she's had very limited success. She's the one who taught him how to read and write.

She still has the bow and quiver of arrows that she used before finding Avarosa's True Ice Bow. She has them as a sort of keepsake from her past life.

Because Avarosa, Serylda, and Lissandra were all sisters, it makes Sejuani her cousin. (going by Lissandra's current lore, this makes her Ashe and Sejuani's Aunt over many generations)

Ashe is very close to figuring out the truth about Lissandra, but is having a really hard time proving it to others and making them believe her. To this date, only a small handful of friends and her closest followers believe what she does. Most still believe Lissandra to be the normal human leader of the Frostguard. It took Ashe a handful of years to come up with and confirm her suspicions...she did not know overnight. She knows something terrible is brewing in the east, she just doesn't know what. All she knows is that her guts are telling her that Lissandra's behind all of it.

Ashe is very competitive, and yearly holds an archery contest open to all the inhabitants of Valoran. She's won it more than half of the time, and she's been the reining champion for the past three years.

Ashe joined the League before she became Queen.

She was never really that close with her mother because they had differing views, but she did love her. Sometimes, when she is questioning her ability to rule, she thinks about what her mother would do and it helps her come to a decision. 

With each arrow she fires from her ancient ice-enchanted bow, Ashe proves she is a master archer. She chooses each target carefully, waits for the right moment, and then strikes with power and precision. It is with this same vision and focus that she pursues her goal of uniting the tribes of the Freljord and forging them into a mighty nation.

As a child, Ashe was always a dreamer. She marveled at the colossal, abandoned fortresses of her ancestors, and spent hours by the fire listening to tales of the Freljord's fabled champions. Most of all she loved the legend of Avarosa, the renowned Queen of the once magnificent and united Freljord. Though her mother chided her foolishness, Ashe swore one day she would join the scattered and warlike tribes of the tundra. She knew in her heart that if her people would stand together once more, they would reach greatness again.

When Ashe was only fifteen, her mother was killed while commanding the tribe on a brash raid. Suddenly thrust into the role of leader, Ashe made the difficult decision to follow her childhood vision instead of seeking the revenge she craved. She spoke passionately against her tribe's demand for retribution, declaring the time had come to put blood feuds aside and broker a lasting peace. Some of her warriors questioned her fitness to rule and soon hatched a treasonous plot to kill the young leader.

The assassins struck while Ashe was on a routine hunt, but their plan was interrupted by the warning cry of a great hawk. Ashe looked back to see her tribesmen approaching with swords drawn. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, Ashe ran for hours. She found herself deep in uncharted territory, her weapon lost in the chase. When she heard another cry from the hawk, Ashe put her faith in the strange creature and followed it to a clearing. There she found the bird perched on a pile of stones - an ancient Freljord burial cairn. With a last glance at her, the hawk screeched and flew away. Approaching the mound, Ashe felt her breath turn to frost and an unnatural cold chill her to the bone. The stone at the top of the cairn was marked with a single rune: Avarosa.

The assassins burst into the clearing. Ashe lifted the runestone from the cairn to defend herself, revealing something hidden underneath: an ornate bow carved from ice. She grasped it, crying out in pain as frost formed on her fingers, and tore the bow from its resting place. Cold flowed from the enchanted weapon into Ashe, awakening a tremendous power that had always lived within her.

Ashe turned to face the assassins. She drew the bow, and by sheer instinct, willed arrows of pure ice to form from the cold, crisp air. With a single frozen volley, she ended the insurrection. Carefully replacing the cairn stone, she gave thanks to Avarosa for her gift, and returned home. Ashe's tribe immediately recognized the legendary weapon in the archer's hand as a blessing from the ancient Freljord queen herself.

With Avarosa's bow and her vision of peaceful unification, Ashe's tribe soon swelled, becoming the largest in the Freljord. Now known as the Avarosan, they stand together with the belief that a united Freljord will once again become a great nation.

"One tribe, one people, one Freljord."

― Ashe

"It is our duty to speak of unity, here among the ruins of our past. Now our people stand divided, torn apart by ancient hatreds. Brothers and sisters, our enemy is not our neighbor. Our enemy is a land without law and a long winter's night. It is hunger, poverty, desperation and chaos. Look around you, these monuments from a bygone age, each older and grander than anything wrought by our hands. These are the works of a united Freljord, a fractured land that we can repair. From these ruins, we can raise a great nation. We are the people of the Freljord, and this land belongs to us all."