"I delight in this silence. The quiet before the hunt."~ Nidalee, Furry
Big conversation chapter also me making up some head cannon. Let me know if you guys find it interesting or at least believable.
Also I understand the plot is going really fast. I mean yeah.... but would you really have me stretch out a plotline that would be short to 20-30 chapters? I'm also not really good with longer drawn out plotlines. I like stuff being resolved quickly. Real life is often like that. Its also why I have time skips in the story. That means I am skimping out on character development. I'll try to have more slice of life chapters in between.
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"What is he looking like Greta?" Ashe asked the old woman.
Greta looked at the vials in her hand, swishing around the colored liquids and answered, "He is doing surprisingly well."
Ashe hesitated, "He is safe?"
"More than." Greta turned to the unconscious man on the bedding. "The injuries are closed. Not naturally. His magic is somehow closing his wounds shut. Look at the red areas." She pointed at his body, "Look at the red lines and spots on his body... these places were wounds. The red under the skin is some blood that has managed to seep through." Greta turned to Ashe with a finger out. "What does his magic do Warmother? Why can he do this? The spirits are very interested in this man."
Her eyes widening, Ashe asked, "The spirits are interested?"
"Taking on an army alone, killing more than half of them while staying alive.... tends to get the attention of the spirits of battle and war. Even if you ignore that, the first time I met him the spirits were already interested in him... some even choosing to follow him around." Greta looked around, her eyes stopping at random points in the room. Points were nothing existed.
Ashe understood what she was doing, "The spirits are within this room at the moment?"
"They have been around the man since the very first day my eyes landed on him." Greta replied with a shrug. "His life seems fascinating to the spirits." Before raising her cane at Ashe and waving it with a squint, "You have also not answered my question Ashe. My stick does not see hierarchy."
Raising her hands in defense, Ashe answered with a smile, "Apologies Greta. His magic is to pull. He can pull things around him in any direction he wants."
Greta turned around and with a very impressed look on her face, she observed Gregori's body. "That.... that is.... that is very impressive." Her bony fingers ran across his wounds. "Very impressive." Waving Ashe closer she pointed at the large wound on his side. "The magic holding this together.... its him doing it. Unconsciously. He is pulling the wounds shut. Such control is unheard of. Shamans or mages.... they aren't this good at their own magic. Not only is his control unbelievable.... his thinking is above and beyond anyone else." She chuckled as her eyes flitted to his face. "Who thinks of pulling their wounds closed? I didn't even need to do anything other than give his body a little push to gain back the blood he has lost. He is naturally healing himself, there will be scars but they won't be as pronounced."
"You can do that?" Ashe asked surprised. Gregori had been adamant to naturally heal all his blood back and hadn't even tried to consult Greta.... for fear of owing the tribe or for fear of over reliance on magical methods like this... she did not know.
Greta spun her stick around, hitting Ashe under the knees. She answered as Ashe jumped. "I cannot... girl don't be stupid. The spirits do it. It is why if you survive a battle us Spirit Walkers can heal you. The spirits like a good battle. The like seeing the victors survive. We see how many of them surround you and then predict how much faster you would heal. But for some the spirits do something more. Your Bloodsworn. Gregori. That boy Olaf. They all have spirits on their side. Going as far as to yell in our minds when we come close to them. Why do you think that boy Olaf cannot die in battle? The spirits adore him. They won't let him. His desire TO die in battle fuels their desire to keep him alive."
Ashe winced at the hit. Not because she felt pain but because she wanted to entertain Greta. "So the spirits are talking to you right now?" She finally understood why Olaf survived every battle. He was famed in the Freljord and she had feared the possibility of him coming to the battle. To think that both her Bloodsworn and Gregori had both garnered the attention of various spirits was a shock to her. The backing of spirits was what made the Spirit Walkers feared. The Winter's Claw had a man who was beloved by the spirits. A true monster in every sense of the word. But he wasn't in the Freljord at the moment.
Greta huffed, "Talking?" She waved her cane around at the spirits only she could see. "They are screaming. Yelling. Like a bunch of drunk fools." She stilled for a moment before barking out, "Yeah I calling you drunks! Stop yelling! My ears are not as good as they used to be and this hurts!"
"That's better. Thank you." She spoke curtly after a few seconds. Turning back to Ashe, she spoke, "You should leave. He will wake when he chooses to wake. Its only been a night since the battle.... he needs the rest and his mind needs time to heal. You on the other hand have a tribe to take care of. Those idiots will now send messengers for alliances after everything they have done. Don't bend Ashe. Don't do something your mother would do."
Ashe nodded solemnly. Before asking, "Can I send Gregori's children to come visit? They have been waiting for their father for a day."
"This is not a children's playhouse Ashe."
"But they want to see their father." Ashe pushed. "It is all they want."
Greta looked at Ashe and then to Gregori's bed. "Fine. They can visit."
Ashe smiled and walked outside. "I will bring them sometime in the evening." She spoke as she left.
She walked to her quarters, taking her time to think. Her home. Her home that currently held all of Gregori's children. That was one of Gregori's conditions as he had walked into battle.
And she couldn't believe what the man had done. She had expected him to only fight and stall until reinforcement. But the scene that awaited them was shocking to say the least.
Piles of bodies.
The white surroundings in sharp contrast with the battlefield. Blood covered the land. Black soot dotting the battlefield as a result of something Gregori managed to do.
They watched as the group retreated and Gregori collapse.
Immediately they were on him, checking if he was alive. And he was. Ashe didn't know which was scarier..... the result of the battle or him surviving.
Braum had personally carried the man back, not letting them use any of their mounts.
The ones that remained to go over the bodies were the ones who brought the biggest news. The battlefield had Rimefangs and runestones scattered about. No doubt the runestones causing the explosions. But what pushed the story above everything else was two heads. Two heads from two Iceborn.
Two famous Iceborn.
Gregori had managed to kill both One-legged Halgar and Brokvar Ironfist.
Scarmother Vrynna would be both enraged and mourning for her two allies. One of whom was someone akin to an Oathsworn and the other a loyal member who had stuck with her through thick and thin.
It was a disaster.
A disaster for their enemies.
The tribes that had attacked from the sides were eradicated without mercy. Those who had managed to escape would be coming back begging for peace now. But the total amount of people Gregori had killed was close to how many she had killed. And she was not alone. She had support from Braum and Gragas while the other tribesmen and women fought.
And he had done it all without the support from Caalyx. There was no support from the spear that would make him near immortal. Nothing. Alone. In truth, he had taken the stronger group. It was why they had expected stalling tactics.
Stall till the rest finished their battles before moving to assist him but reality was stranger. His weapons and clothes completely drenched in blood. He looked like someone legends were told about.
And having seen the faces of those who had come to assist him..... Ashe was sure Gregori's actions would be praised. He would be a genuine Freljordian legend. Not only because of his prowess but also due to the fear he had caused among the enemies.
Her thoughts shifted to the their own casualties.
The whole battle had taken fifteen lives from their tribe.
Only fifteen.
Fifteen who were brought back to their families. Fifteen who were honored.
But only fifteen.
A complete and utter victory.
Her home appeared in her vision as she sighed. The upcoming conversation would not be fun.
Not the ones with the council regarding the incoming messengers nor the one with Gregori's children. The children who had been growing restless every moment their father wasn't with them.
But they were told about their father's survival and his actions the previous night by various tribesmen. That did nothing to dampen their need to see their father, in fact it increased it.
But after a few hours of convincing from her and Tryndamere, they had managed to calm down.
She smiled as she remembered Tryndamere interact with the children. The man was good with children despite his stoic outward actions and appearance.
The night they had spent together after the ordeal was different. There was a hunger in both of them. A desire that had sprouted and would not go away.
They wanted children of their own. It was only a matter of time before they would be having them.