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Noxian culture practically revolved around respect and honor for those who could call themselves warriors. And, in Noxian culture, menstruation was revered as a personal war faced by those burdened by it. In other words, it was a respected time, in which the one afflicted would be treated with utmost care.
Only sacred blood could spill from peace.
Unfortunately, your condition meant your personal war was often worse than others’.
You curled up in a tight ball on the bed, tears pricking your eyes as you clutched your sides in pain. Invisible daggers stabbed your midsection with a violent sharpness. Heavy bootsteps sounded down the hall, stopping at your bedroom door, which was promptly pushed open.
“You were to be at the throne room half an hour ago,” Ambessa’s firm voice had an indescribable presence. “I should hope you have a good reason for your neglect to-”
Before she could berate you, she saw you curled up and shaking in your bed, and immediately pieced together what was going on. The tear tracks on your face gave her pause.
“…disregard,” she mumbled, before sighing heavily. It was her special way of nonapology.
As her secretary, you were expected to be at her side at all times, unless otherwise negotiated. Due to the nature of your condition, this was a time wherein you were exempt. She just hadn’t kept track of the days of the month.
You felt as though you’d vomit if you spoke. All you could muster was a pained whimper as you kept your eyes shut tight, your knees brought up to your chest.
She pitied you. You felt the mattress dip as she sat beside you with a warm presence.
Ambessa had a fondness for you. You’d certainly entertained her on a few occasions. But past that, you were also just damn good at your job. You were quiet, witty, resourceful. You had all the makings of a fox, and yet… you were always so eager to serve her, selflessly, even to your detriment.
To her, you were a wise hare. She reasoned with herself that your loyalty deserved some return.
“I’ll send servants to draw you a hot bath in my quarters,” she began. “When you’re well enough, I’ll have you draft a letter of… acknowledgement, to the Logian’s king. I won’t be showing at the consultancy this afternoon”.
You managed to open your eyes just enough to give her a questioning look.
“What, like I’d have a valued member of my court suffer through such an ailment unaided? We send medics to battlefields all the same, and this is yours,” you whimpered as she placed her warm hand on your lower stomach. It still hurt like hell, but the warmth was soothing.
Her gaze softened. She was gonna take care of you.
Her hand kept you warm until you were well enough to stand. Despite that, she still insisted she carry you down the hall, to her bedroom. You couldn’t complain. It meant more time in her strong, war-scarred arms. It meant more time to study every line and wrinkle on her face.
She was ethereal, to you.
Once you were finally escorted to her personal bathroom, she helped you undress. You felt no shame or embarrassment. Nudity in a situation such as this was nowhere near frowned upon in Noxus.
Her servants helped you into the hot bath, the scent of lavender flooding your senses. Ambessa undressed herself, climbing into the large tub next to you. She took you gently by the shoulders and leaned you down with your back pressed against her chest.
You sighed with relief as the tension left your face, the pain seeping away in the hot water. You weren’t out of the woods, but you felt at peace. You nearly fell asleep as her servants washed your hair.
Ambessa allowed you to relax your body for a while, until the water cooled to lukewarm. Then, she helped you out of the bath, and into a crimson pair of silk night clothes she had the servants pick up for you during your pampering.
Finally, she helped you into bed.
Her bed.
It wasn’t your first stay in her sleeping quarters, but those stays typically ended in a panting haze, and a pleasant ache. This was different.
For once, you were in Ambessa’s bed to sleep, and only to sleep. It was midday, but you were so relaxed you could drift off right then and there.
The older woman climbed into bed next to you, still unapologetically naked. Strong arms pulled you close, and you didn’t hesitate to nuzzle into her warm, scarred skin.
While you knew the relief was temporary, you felt reassured by her presence. No matter if you were winning the war with your body, you had her right there to pick you up and dust you off. You were safe.
“Let me know should you need anything, alright?” she spoke against the top of your head, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You hummed in response, placing your hands along her collarbones and tracing gentle lines across her skin. “Your perseverance is… commendable,” she continued.
A compliment… a nonphysical, nonsexual, entirely genuine compliment from Ambessa.
It was almost worth the cramps. Almost.
Until your period became manageable, she took care of you. She held you, fed you, and made sure you were pampered. She nursed you back to health. More than a warrior, you found her to be quite the natural protector, and you were her prized treasure.
She would hold your hand through hell itself.