Winwolfa (A Roan x Female OC Fanfic)

Chapter 12

The storm finally cleared the next morning. Astrid woke to find Roan still absent, but his clothes now missing from beside the fire. Quickly, she slid her body into her clothes, smelling briefly of smoke and pine, and walked out of the room to find Roan. Part of her felt guilty for the words she spat at him in anger, but another part felt justified in knowing they were finally on the same page. A mutual disdain for one another.

Sitting at the kitchen table by his lonesome, Astrid's eyes landed on Roan. As soon as he noticed her presence, he pushed up from the chair and walked out of the house. She followed him, always five steps back until they reached the front gates of the Azgeda threshold. Neither one of them bothered to say a word to one another. To speak would be to admit defeat. So, silence was the only thing that occupied them.

Roan and Astrid trained like that for a week. Not speaking a word to each other, even as they dueled. On the rare occasion, he would offer her instruction or she would mutter some bitter insult. Neither one refused to back down to each other's temper. In fact, it only grew worse. The tension grew heavy in the air and nearly everybody noticed.

"Your aim with a spear is awful." He chided with a shake of his head. With arms crossed, he paced back and forth behind her.

"Maybe if my teacher could actually teach." Astrid unleashed the spear in her hand. Dead miss.

Before he could offer a snarky reply, the Queen galloped towards them on her white steed. "Roan!" She called out from atop her saddle. She spoke Trigedasleng in urgency. With her broken understanding of the language, Astrid could make out a few words: warriors, training, go. He didn't offer a rebuttal, just a low grumble as he stalked off.

Queen Nia turned to Astrid finally. "We must do something about that hair." Indeed, whips of hair were flying in front of her eyes and face. A mere braid or ponytail did nothing against the extreme training she endured daily. At the end of her days, when she soaked in the bath, she would spend an ungodly amount of time just to brush the mats out.

"Come, child." Nia dismounted her horse and handed the reins to a nearby guard. "Follow me." She marched into the compound, leaving Astrid to stumble after her. Instead of turning towards Astrid's chambers, she followed the Queen down a different labyrinth. With two hands, she pushed against double doors leading into a decorated bedroom. Sharpened swords of every size,  multi colors furs, a small desk with maps and papers cluttered on them, and other various pieces of furniture all positioned around the large bed in the middle.

"Not many have the opportunity to see my personal chambers." Nia said nonchalantly as she sat along a loveseat. She patted the empty seat beside her. "Sit."

Astrid followed her command, taking a cautious seat beside her. Immediately, her fingers played with the ends of her long hair. It had grown to grow to her waist by now.

"It will be easy for enemies to use your hair as a target. An easy way to smash your face into the ground." She chuckled in some sadistic manner, as if she had done the same thing. She grabbed a comb made of bone from the table in front of them and began combing Astrid's hair in slow strokes.

"Roan says you're making improvements, despite your petty arguments." She said as she finished brushing. "Much faster than many other warriors. You are swift, but still too weak to fight for your hands." From Astrid's temple, she began twisting her hair into a small braid. "I've noticed you've grown akin to the sword. Just as I had hoped. Although, your skill with a bow may be enough to compete."

She turned her head to the other side, repeating the same process of the braid. "When one of our warriors is defeated in battle, we take a piece of them with us. A braid."

"And what happens when you defeat a warrior?" A cold chuckle came from the Queen. Suddenly her hands stopped moving and Astrid shifted in her seat to look at the Queen.

"We brand ourselves." She lowered the cloth around her shoulder to reveal dozens of small scarred dots branching down her chest and arm, then fading behind the shirt . "Each one presents a kill on the battlefield."

"And how many do you have?" Astrid asked warily as she began working on another braid by her ear.

"Too many to count." She said humbly, as if her kills were too insignificant to measure. "Perhaps one day, you will have just as many as I do."

"Somehow I doubt it."

"Killing is a natural part of life. Especially as Azgeda." Her voice was cold, " I do not not know what they teach you in the Sky, but I know you frown upon death. There will be a day your blade will end a life. Your life will depend upon it."

Astrid gulped, a desperate attempt to smooth the panic rising in her as the Queen worked on the last braid on the other side of her head. She didn't stop there. In silence, she added two simple braids behind her ears. No complex lattices like the others.

Death was something she was familiar with. Only on the opposite side. For years, she was the one who begged and pleaded to die. Never did she think she would be the one to do the killing. To end a life... by her hands. Bile tickled her throat at the image. She didn't want to be a killer. Winwolfa could go to hell if it meant that she had to kill for it. How the hell did they survive on Earth if all they ever do is kill each other?  Astrid knew Azgeda despised Lexa for forcing them to join the Coalition, but in all honesty, it didn't seem like an awful idea. Especially if it ceased the endless violence Azgeda cherished so much.

"One day, when I am gone, you must unite with Roan on the throne." Astrid's body couldn't decide to shudder or vomit at the idea. "He will need you. He can be brash and naive. He will need you to guide him."

"Get married? To Roan? No offense, My Queen, but that will not end well." Her hand stopped midway through the braid, waiting for Astrid's explanation, "Your son is arrogant and cocky. Not to mention, a total prick. I am not sure how I would feel having a husband leaving me to die."

"It is why he will need you. Think of it not as a union for love, but as a union for our people. Purely political. Without you, he will lead Azgeda into ruin. They will need Winwolfa at his side to steer our people."

It was a heavy burden to face. Hopefully, one Astrid won't be facing anytime soon. The thought of Roan and her together... repulsed every fiber in her body. Even if it were only a political move, Astrid would spend every day loathing herself for it. If not... then the death of the entire Coalition from an Azgeda rebellion would be on her hands.

When the Queen was finished she guided Astrid's shoulders to the standing mirror in the corner. "Now, you look like a warrior." She was right. Four braids met along the base of her neck, merging into one. Half of her hair was still left out with those two small braids running down her shoulders. Astrid fiddled with one of the ends of the braids as she awed at it. It definitely contained the pesky flyaways. 

"When you start winning battles for Azgeda, we will add more braids. This will do for now." She patted Astrid once along her shoulders, causing her to straighten her spine. Together, they walked down to the dining hall. Azgeda people were already digging into the meal. Astrid took her seat between the Queen and Roan, refusing to acknowledge him.

He cocked his head at her hair, arching an eyebrow intriguingly, "Who did that?"

"Your mother." She said shortly before she began her meal. He kept staring at the hair, at her, even as Astrid shoveled the food into her mouth. "What."

"Nothing." He snickered with a downward smile. She slid a warning gaze towards him.

"Spit it out."

Roan just shrugged his shoulders and said, "You just finally look like Azgeda."