Cold eyes stared idly at the target; her arms pulled the arrow back until the bow was taut. Releasing the arrow, the arrow flew fast and true, striking the bullseye with such an impact, the snow fell from the target as it gave a small, violent shake. With her second arrow drawn, Ashe felt herself disturbed, heavy footsteps in the snow shuffled towards her. Before she could release her second arrow Ashe, found herself relaxing her grip, and when they neared, Ashe finally spoke, but her composure neither faltered, nor even moved at the slightest, aside from her form lowering the bow slightly. "Tryndamere," she greeted simply. Her husband, a gruff man, a barbarian king, had finally returned home. "You return victorious." Ashe observed softly, but her eyes never left the target.

"You know so much without even so much as a simple greeting from me." Tryndamere spoke quietly, his eyes trailed over his wife's form. She was always on point and always outside practicing with her bow and arrow. Sometimes Tryndamere wondered when the Frost Archer ever slept. His nights were often spent with his wife's side of the bed as cold as the outside land of Freljord.

"If it had ended in defeat – you wouldn't have returned so early, much less come out to greet me in person. You would much rather spend the rest of your night polishing your long sword. You're not one for talking when you're burdened with emotions, even emotions you're familiar with."

Laughter.

It was an odd way to respond to her quip, but Ashe would take that answer over the outcome she had mentally predicted. Tryndamere wasn't the jolliest of all men to say the least, but he was quite merry after their hard worked victory at the League. He had been married to Ashe for at the very least a year, and even though 'quality time' wasn't something they 'did', he would at least admit to knowing the woman he had married - and yet she never ceased to surprise Tryndamere. Though she was steadfast and confident in her abilities, she never revealed them until she needed them. She was a master at perception and observation both of her allies and her enemies.

"Yes, you are correct of that." A heavy hand fell upon Ashe's shoulder, causing her smaller body to tremble under the touch of a brute. "But today is a day to celebrate, not to be spent in the snow drawing bows in suspense of battle. We have won a battle, and it is time to feast and to drink."

"Then go inside, and proceed to do so." Ashe drew her arrow back once more, even with Tryndamere's heavy hand resting upon her shoulder; the Frost Archer released an accurate arrow.

Though the battle at the League had been won, the battle at home was still raging, and Tryndamere sensed that this was a good moment of retreat. There was no point in fighting a losing battle, even he knew that, Undying Rage had its limits. "So be it." He answered, pulling his hand away from the woman's shoulder before disappearing into the thick of the trees behind her.

With her third bow notched, Ashe's eyes narrowed at the target, she wouldn't return into the castle until her entire quiver of arrows had been emptied. Long after Tryndamere had disappeared into their home, Ashe remained outside, despite her frost bitten lips and her shivering appearance, Ashe continued to perfect her already accurate shot. Even the boisterous laughter of her husband could not – would not, deter the Frost Archer's shot.

A/N: It's very short, but it's an introduction and a starting place.

I hope to post Chatper II soon.

R&R