The Heart is the Strongest Muscle

Hey guys, I wrote this last year for a creative contest. Didn't win, but it's pretty awesome. I thought I'd share. Braum did indeed deserve more poetic narrative.

The biting cold refused to yield as Braum strolled ever on He shrugged it off and raised his shield, what more could one man want? He smiled and laughed a jolly laugh, for life was good and friends were true His dear friend Ashe had sent him here, and he was Braum, he would not lose. The Winter’s Wrath, Sejuani marched through Freljord toward his home Were she not stopped, then hope would break beneath the warboar that she rode. He’d never met her, but she seemed a fearsome queen indeed They said her flail was truest ice, just like her heart - which did not bleed. He shook his head in disbelief, it would not, could not be the truth. The heart is strongest muscle, yes, and hers would melt before he’s through. From atop the highest peak he gazed upon her clan below A fearsome sight, he thought, and bravely set his shield down in the snow. With another laugh, he leaped and landed, kneeling on his shield Used as a sled, it gathered speed - he fairly flew down toward the field. As a whole, the army paused and watched the laughing streak descend Until it ‘Phoomphed” into the ground, its journey coming to an end. As flurries cleared, a laughing man rose up with arms spread wide “Hello my friends!” He said at last and smiled with a touch of pride. “This is the Frost Queen’s land,” He said. “I’m glad you’re here, we need more friends!” “Come join us at our humble fire and feast with us ‘till winter ends!” Then with a crash, there came a sight that Braum swore he would not forget. A giant bore charged toward him with a spinning flail aimed at his head! He raised the door and braced himself against the blow he knew would come And when it came, to his surprise it knocked him smack dab on his bum! His eyes were wide as he looked up, and saw a large and flailing form O’er the top of his shield, she fell, and landed, struggling, in his arms. She was a large as he! He saw, with strength and beauty in her form So strong was she, she nearly broke his grip, but he held on. “My dear,” he said with tenderness, “’The Winter’s Wrath’ is not a name that you should bear!” “I’ve never seen more beauty here – And I’ve been almost everywhere!” “Let go you oaf!” She thrashed and roared, “I’m here for war, not pleasantries!” “I’ll crush the weak beneath my flail and scatter them upon the breeze!” “The weak you say?” Braum chuckled back. “I keep them safe behind my shield.” “You break my grip and I’ll concede – our tribe will be the first to yield.” The Winter’s Wrath let loose a storm of rage and fury then. She bit and kicked and thrashed and roared, and called out to her men. “Don’t help me! I will beat this fool, and we will win the war!” “We’ll march over his corpse and then the rest of the Freljord!” For days, then weeks she struggled on against her jolly foe. His grip would not relent at all, he was as merciless as the snow. Succumbing to fatigue, at last, she fell asleep against Braum’s chest. He savored it for some time more, reluctant for this war to end. “My dear,” he whispered down at her, “Think of the children we would bear!” He held her close and stroked her head, feeling the smoothness of her hair. “If beauty comes from harshest climbs, you must have come from frozen hell.” “But I am Braum, I’ll make you mine, I’ll cause your frozen heart to melt.” The army shuffled awkwardly, watching the scene unfold. Finally, Braum stood and said, “Come, let’s get out of the cold!” Sejuani cradled in his arms, he strolled off into the snow. After some time, they followed him, not sure where else to go. And so the war was ended, with no blood spilled at all. Sejuani learned a lesson from the man that they called Braum. The winter purges weakness, yes, but with it comes the cold And frozen hearts were weaker than the feeble or the old.