Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Frozen or One Piece, and both works belong to their respective creators. All original characters and concepts are of my own and do not represent the actual work of either previously mentioned titles.

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"Mine own mother's love wast unshakable, coequal unconditional,"

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PRELUDE

The great forests of the North Woods were alluring stark sights during the winter seasons. Laid with grey crags and pallid moonpines, white as the snow blanketing the ground, scattered in thickets across the wildwood. Patches of shrubs, winter flowers, and twigs ruptured the pristine layers of snow - rows of prolonged, piercing, spikes of jagged ice rose from around the trees; sectioning off the fringe of the forests. The moonpines were covered in clear, pink, frost that glistened when the light of a lantern shone on it.

From the top of his horse, he could reach the sleek, coal-black, leaves that hung from sickly branches; their veins seeped out a dark miasmatic haze that descended to the ground, layering the snow with black spots. A continuous stream fell all around his horse, leaving behind pillars of the black mist - the range of his sight being limited to a couple of meters on all sides.

Benny rode in silence, being left companionless towards the back of the train. Though he figured he was not completely alone; accompanied by his thoughts and musings, he let the continuous plodding of his horse (through snow) soothe him as he retreated further back into his conscious to avoid the dark forest surrounding him. He stared blankly ahead, making sure that the line of six bobbing lanterns stayed before him.

A winter gale rushed through the glade; battering against the trees and pushing the miasma, and flurries of ice, into Benny's frostbitten face. He had become numb to the cold of the far north since they crossed into the northern tundra.

Their journey north was arduous and fraught with the horrors of the most northern realm. Winter had landed two months early and had hit the kingdom hard with its unceasing bombardment. What should have taken only a fortnight took them a month to cross into the blanketed tundras of Orion's March, and another two weeks to reach Venison Dream. By then their party of fifteen had been reduced to 5 able men by the cruel and unforgiving storms.

It was there where they had split the party too head into the "land of lost outlaws". Inquiring as to why the forest was named as such, Benny was informed that criminals who managed to escape from imprisonment fled into the forest, never to be found. The soldiers that patrolled the area took to calling it the Dead Forest - an appropriate name, Benny mused.

As Benny ushered Yndis - a thin chestnut-brown mare with a white braided mane and similarly braided tail - to follow behind the train, he listened to the heavy crunch of snow below his horse and the howling winds. Asides from the noise from their horses and the wind, the forest was silent and the soft falling miasma made it oddly tranquil; if the growing silence, lack of animals, and petrifying cold hadn't kept him uneasy, the forest would have lulled him to sleep.

He questioned (for the umpteenth time that month) why he was there alongside all the men. Benny had only seen twenty winters in his short life and was still a boy, young and green behind the ears. It had only been weeks ago that he was back home tending to his mother's garden, and learning how to run the house. Now he was in a forest so far north that it was disputed that it was not even within the kingdom's borders.

"Oi, hússveinn?" Benny looked to his side; in his musings, he had not noticed that one of the riders ahead had pulled back to ride beside him. He could hardly see the man asides from the lantern that he held in his gloved hand, but his grating voice and northern dialect suggested that it was one of the hunters they picked up in Venison Dream.

The Huntsman reached for something on his saddle before moving a small hemp sack into the light of Benny's lantern. "It's chewing tobacco," he spoke with a slur.

Benny shook his head not interested in taking part in that pastime. When the man didn't retract the bag, Benny realized that the Huntsman probably couldn't see the movement.

"N...No, no thank you," Benny managed to say through the cold.

The Huntsman mumbled something as he pulled the bag away. Benny could hear the slap of the man's lips as the huntsman chewed on a fresh pinch of tobacco. The sound made his stomach queasy.

"Has that hestkuk mentioned to you what we are hunting?" Benny tensed up at the insult.

"Who?"

"The fjallsveinn...Rufus, I think his name was," the Huntsman said. "I chatted with the others, but none could either tell me nor speak a word of what it is we're hunting."

Rufus was the one that had gathered the party together. Benny didn't know him personally but had spoken with him a few times during their month-long journey. From what he knew, Rufus and the majority of their party had come from a town in the Cloudberry Basin: Multerdale. A hamlet filled with herders, harvesters, and hunters.

"I wouldn't know, sorry." Benny found the man's presence intimidating, and silently pleaded for him to move back up in the train.

The Huntsman seemed to settle back into his saddle, and the two hunters fell into what Benny thought was a restless silence. A lump formed in the back of his throat as the miasma seemed to grow thicker around him, crushing his neck and pushing against his ribs. As minutes passed the pressure around him began to grow thicker, and Benny found it harder to control his breathing. Every second felt like the black mist was stealing the air straight from his lungs.

"There were more to your group, right?" The Huntsman asked.

Like waves crashing, Benny's breath returned to him. Swallowing the lump in his throat he answered, "Y-Yes, there were."

"They were the ones you left behind in Venison?"

"Yes."

"You don't talk much do you?" When the Huntsman didn't get a response he continued, "What's your name, kid?"

"Benny…" he hesitated, "Heimsdatter."

"A Heimsdatter? This far north?" The Huntsman guffawed at the notion, of which Benny could not understand. "To think, I thought you might be some shit hússveinn looking to meet an early death, but to hear that a Heimsdatter is up in these neck of the woods, is too much."

"What's wrong with me being here?"

"Nothing," he mocked, "just thought that all you smith's like to be held up in that forge home of yours."

Benny glared down at his saddle, hating the mocking tone the Huntsman was directing towards him. He never understood the Northmen - savages the lot of them. His brother would often tell him a story of a pair of Northmen brothers, and how the one murdered the other out of greed.

"So what brings someone like you up here, anyway?"

"It isn't obvious?" Benny asked. "I'm here to hunt."

"Obvious? If it ain't obvious to you, there ain't anything up here to hunt."

That was true, as far as Benny could tell the Dead Forest lived up to its name. Since entering the North Woods Benny had not seen a single bird or mammal that would normally inhabit the forests of northern Norway. He also took note of the reluctance from the other hunters back in town to join them and to head into the woods for their hunt.

Of course, Benny knew of the stories surrounding the forests in the northern realm - way back when Arendelle was beginning to gain recognition from other kingdoms, men would head to the North Woods to partake in the Wild Hunt. They'd bring back fine golden pelts from elk, and enough meat to feed the kingdom through two winters. It was only till after the old hunters stopped returning from the hunt that the forest first became forbidden - some would even say cursed.

His brother would say that they were only old fables and that the army had made it restricted due to reavers that hid at the centre of the forest. But his brother was not here. He was. And first-hand accounts never lie; what he was seeing could only be caused by a curse.

"Our gods, yours too if you're not fool enough to worship one nailed to a plank, they...well one of um...is said to hunt in these here woods. His name is Dýhaldr in some older tongues, but here in the north we call him-"

"Dagvaldyr," Benny wished he could see the look on the man's face.

"That's it! Seems some southerners still worship the true gods!"

Benny didn't correct him and was thankful that the wooden cross around his neck was covered by a thick blue scarf.

"If you knew that there were no animals out here, then why did you come?" Benny asked.

The Huntsman took a moment to answer, long enough so that Benny thought he may have not heard the question. Before Benny could ask again, the huntsman spat out the clump of chewing tobacco and swapped it in favour of a fresh pinch.

"Hell, I dunno. Probably just to get out and see what that hestkuk thinks he's hunting. There ain't nothing out here, so maybe I'm just here for a stroll," the Huntsman said.

Benny looked over at the man's silhouette - hunched over with an arm dangling in the strong wind. "I'm sorry, but I never got your name."

"Garmann," he grumbled.

"It's a pleasure, Garmann," Benny said, making sure not to forget his manners once again.

"Yeah whatever, Heimsdatter," Garmann grumbled out again. "About those southerners you left back there, I saw the women and kids, but why did that one feller stay behind?"

"Frostbite, he got it about a week before we arrived in town." He quickly added as an afterthought, "Though I'm sure he would have stayed behind nevertheless. Cassander was never the hunting type."

"And you are?" Garmann quipped. "Don't take this the wrong way, kid, but I've seen children with more hunting experience. But you...drifting off while on the hunt, not paying attention to your surroundings, and incompetence that I've never seen the likes of."

"How?" He could tell that Benny had been away in his own mind? "I-I can hunt."

"You missing some confidence there?" Garmann scoffed. "That's why you're riding here in the back, though I think that hestkuk should be joining you. What the hell was Achim thinking, letting him lead us?"

"Achim?"

"That other hunter from Venison. He's made a name for himself by exploring these woods - never this far though," he explained. "Came to town two...three years ago from Arendelle; Achim of Arendelle, they call him, the greatest tracker in all the realms. Loads'a horseshit if you ask me. I've seen far better hunters in my time than that southern pretty boy. But if there were anyone who knows these forests better than Achim, I haven't met um.

"Eh, enough about them. You said you could hunt? Ever kill anything larger than a rype?" The huntsman asked, somewhat forced.

"Of course." It was a lie.

Benny had only ever killed hares and squirrels, but never directly, only through traps and snares that his elder brothers had taught him. As much as he tried to fool himself into believing that he was a hunter, Benny had always gone to Felicia's Garden, never straying far from the familiar place. The lingering smell of the pines and oaks and the morning dew had been replaced with frigid air and a dead forest. Warm and welcoming colours of browns and greens, and lively sounds from the animals were gone; white and black, and howling winds was all he could see and hear.

Benny missed the old oak that sat near the centre of the garden, and the large moss-covered branches that made for a comfortable place to rest in the spring. He longed to see the light green leaves that swayed in a gentle breeze and the red squirrels that would scamper across the offshoots. For hours, he'd sit there in the shade of the old oak's canopy, and read his favorite saga - The Viking King - and imagine himself as a brave man who could lead other brave men.

"Have you ever killed anything larger than a rype?" Benny asked.

"Who do you think you're asking? Of course, I have!" Garmann said, seemingly offended by the question. "I've killed many large beasts; this one time me and my hunting partner, Kiran - now when I tell you this guy can shoot, I mean he can shoot. Can hit a deer clean between its eyes from the next valley over! Ha, that old feller really does know how to handle a rifle!"

"Kiran sounds like an amazing marksman."

"That he is. Anyway, what was I saying? Ah, right the hunt. So, Kiran and I are asked by this highborn pikk - can't remember his name...Salmon or something like that - so, he says to us, 'there's a brown bear up by the King's Pass; killed a number of escorts and traders travelling through. I kneed you, hunters, to kill it and bring it back here.' So I ask, 'what's the pay?' And you know what he says, '62 speciedaler upfront, and 62 more on delivery!'"

"For one bear?" Benny asked.

"At the time that's what I was thinking. But we get to King's Pass and, sure enough, we find the beast, all twelve hundred pounds of him. Kiran recommended a plan that would catch the beast off guard-"

Benny let out a chilled breath as Garmann continued on with his story. Again the darkness around him seemed to become his world; it tried desperately to become everything to him, whispering to him that a deep sleep would keep him safe. He knew that it was just a trick of his senses, and tried to listen to Garmann's tale, but the details eluded him. A soft ringing began to resonate in his head, growing in intensity in an inconsistent frequency.

The forest ahead of him was an empty void of swirling miasma and the ever glistening falling snow. The crunching of iron soles on snow began to slowly become like clicking on glass. The sound echoed in the empty forest, silenced by the vacuum of nothing around him. It was then that he noticed the absence of light before him.

Where was the rest of their party?

"Garmann?"

"And after I received our pay," the Huntsman chuckled, "I found Kiran...getting a special reward from the pikk's wife! Ha!"

"Garmann, the lanterns!" Benny said in a nervous whisper. "They're gone! They were there minutes ago, now they're gone. Did you see where they went? Did they snuff out their flames?"

"I don't know," he said.

"What do we do?"

"Oi! Ferry! Sigvid! What's going on up there?!" Garmann called to the two riders ahead of them.

They waited for the two hunters' response. When none was given Garmann tried again, calling for Scott, Rufus and Achim, but again they were met with the same silence.

The ringing in Benny's ears exploded in intensity as if he had been inside a church's bell the moment it rang. Trying to keep his vision steady, Benny held a tighter grip on the reins and lantern. It seemed like minutes since the ringing began, and it grew in strength the further he moved into the void.

"You feeling alright, kid?" Garmann asked.

Benny replied with a weak, "Yes."

"They couldn't have gotten that far. C'mon, let's keep our course and see if we can find them up ahead." Benny Heimsdatter silently agreed but wanted to turn around and head back to Venison Dream. At least back in town, he was guaranteed safety and warmth.

Yndis shook her head and whinnied at having to move further into the forest. Patting her neck, Benny urged her to follow Garmann, who had moved ahead to form their own train; Garmann leading them at the front, and Benny being at the rear.

"Do you think that it was the forest's curse?" Benny suggested the seemingly probable idea.

"Let me nip that in the bud for you, Benny," Garmann said. "There is no curse. Never was. Only a bunch of superstitious fools that don't know how ta keep their goddamn mouths shut. We only fell behind and can't see their lanterns, that's all there is. No curse, only fools. Now, just follow behind and stay close, we'll see if we can find them in the next-fy faen!"

"Garmann!?" The huntsman's candle vanished from view.

"Faen! Fine, I'm alright!" Garmann said, sounding just as close as before. "Just...make sure to cover your eyes."

Benny did what he was told; slipping his arm under the reins and shielding the front of his eyes. Squinting in anticipation, Benny didn't know what to expect. The sun was at its highest when they left Venison Dream, and they had been travelling long enough for it to have set and for the moon to take its place.

From behind his hand, he could see the miasma getting thinner and thinner. The ringing in his head washed away like water leaving his ears, and finally the last of the black mist was gone and a sharp white light shone in its absence. He felt alleviated by the radiance that warded off the vileness of the forest; like being pulled from perdition into the light.

When his eyes adjusted, he let down his hand to glimpse at the surrounding area. They were on the edge of a glade, with the cloudless night sky high above them and the waning moon hanging directly overhead. Across from them, in the centre of the glade, sat a colossal moonpine four-times the size of a regular red pine. The ground was covered in a thin layer of red ice, and grey ash-like flakes that seemed to suspend in the air for moments at a time before swaying to the ground.

The black mist from the forest lingered at the fringe of the glade, never passing further than where the longest branch extended.

"Finally outta that forest," Benny got a good look at the man he had been conversing with through most of the night. He was somewhere in his late forties, with pale freckled skin and bright unkempt red hair. His teeth were an expected yellow from years of chewing tobacco, and his face was covered in a thick red beard. "How are you keeping up there, Heimsdatter?"

"W-Well," Benny's teeth chattered.

"Got colder. Come on, we'll see if the others are around," Garmann said.

Benny looked around the barren glade, not seeing the party they had been travelling with or any sign that they had come through. The two hunters, their horses, and the giant moonpine were the only things in the open area. The longer he looked at the massive tree the more he felt like returning to the embrace of the dark forest.

The moonpine's bark was as pale as a blood-drained corpse, bordering on grey. Up high, sickly branches with no leaves stretched across the glade; flecks of its grey bark peeled off to reveal a blood-red sap that formed icicles along the underside of the limbs. At the centre of the moonpine, multiple sharp diagonal gashes spread across the entirety of the tree.

"Up ahead, there's something at the tree's base!" Garmann yelled over the wind. He and Benny ushered their steads to hurry over to the tree; Garmann knew what was there before Benny - being at the front had its benefits.

As they approached the old moonpine, Garmann dismounted from his grey fjord horse; removing a common hunting rifle from his saddle and slinging it onto his shoulder. Mirroring the Huntsman, Benny dismounted from Yndis, reins in hand, and followed after Garmann and his steed.

The closer they got to the tree, the easier it was to make out what laid between the large roots. A mangled corpse of a horse laid in a frozen puddle of its own blood, black as the night sky. The saddle, as well as the back of the horse, were gone, exposing the muscle, fat, and inner workings of the horse. Any sign of a rider was missing along with their gear.

"What…" Benny held his stomach with one hand, keeping the other shaking limb on Yndis' reins. "What the hell could have done...that!?"

"Bear, maybe?" Garmann replied, not sounding so sure.

"What kind of bear could do this?"

"I don't know."

"Where are the others? Did they get attacked?"

"I don't know."

"We need to find them! Which way could they have gone?"

"I don't know." Garmann stepped away from the horse's carcass. "But, we can't stay out here."

"Back to the forest?" Benny dreaded having to step back into the haze.

"No, whatever did this could likely see us in all that."

"It's...been following us…" Benny began to wonder. "It's been hunting us! It'd take us a half a day to make it back to town, what should we do?"

"I don't know!" Garmann shouted, turning his back to Benny and the tree. "Whatever it is probably followed the others, so if we take this chance we can leave with our wits still about us."

"What about Rufus, and Achim; what about the hunt?" Benny asked.

"Fuck this hunt and fuck Rufus, the faen hestkuk! He brought all of us out here, and deserves whatever he gets!" Garmann said, raising his voice to a near roar. "Achim thinks he knows these woods, then he should be alright. And if you plan on returning to your home alive, Heimsdatter, then you'll keep your fucking mouth shut and listen to me! Now get on your goddamn horse!"

Benny obeyed the enraged huntsman, quickly placing his foot into his stirrup and climbed up onto the seat. He stumbled a bit when the ringing returned once more, gradually getting louder and louder, threatening to make his ears explode.

A loud bray drew Benny's attention to Garmann's horse. The huntsman was attempting to calm his mount, struggling to hold onto the reins as the horse reared back. "What the hell has gotten into you!?"

"Do you need any help?" Benny frantically got back down off his horse.

"No!" Garmann looked over at him. "And get back on your horse!"

Benny didn't listen and grabbed the reins, helping Garmann attempt to pull the horse down. The two hunters struggled to keep their hold on the horse while standing on the red-stained ice. More braying drew Benny's attention back to Yndis who had begun to rear and shift around in fear.

The ringing erupted into a thundering roar; Yndis became startled and kicked off, galloping past the hunters and back towards the forest. Benny tried reaching out for Yndis' reins as she passed but slipped when the horse he was holding onto pulled back. He hit the ice hard but managed to still keep his hands on the reins.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?! Get up and get to your horse!"

Not wanting to make the Huntsman angrier than he already was, Benny scrambled up off the ground and chased after Yndis. The biting cold washed over his face as he followed his horse to the edge of the glade; Yndis hesitated before the black mist, but hastily dove into the darkness.

Benny cursed himself for getting off Yndis and leaving her unattended.

He followed the horse into the forest, detesting having to step back into the curse. All Benny could follow was the feeble light of the lantern strapped to the side of his saddle, and the heavy sounds of hoofs crunching through the snow. It became tedious following after his horse, who was much faster in the deep snow.

Benny went further and further into the black forest. He followed Yndis past large moonpines and massive boulders, over a hill and across a frozen stream. He struggled to pull his legs through the snow; his breath ran ragged and his chest burned, blood rushed to his head and hammered in his ears. The light grew distant as Yndis continued at a constant gallop - it seemed that any chance of catching his horse had disappeared in the abyss.

BANG! Benny came to a stop in a small gully, surrounded on all sides by grey and white crags. BANG! BANG! BANG!

Four successive rifle shots echoed off the stone walls around him. Benny's thoughts immediately went to Garmann, who he had left back in the glade. Worry began to consume him as he listened to the huntsman fire at an unseen target. The shots were quick almost hurried like Garmann was firing in panic. Slowly the resonating echoes went quiet and all he could hear was the wind on the crags' sides.

Minutes passed with Benny waiting, listening. His heart pounding against his chest as he waited for another shot to be fired, and despite the cold, sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Once again the silence threatened to suffocate him. The roaring wind drowned out all other noise except for the pounding of his heart in his ears and the ringing in his head.

Suddenly, as if by someone's command, the winds halted and the ringing faded. Benny was left with only the sound of his own heartbeat and a strange echo of silence. The chill in the air impelled him to shiver; he moved over toward the base of a small frail moonpine, and sat with his back against its frozen bark. He drew his knees to his chest, trying to stay warm - starting a fire was a problem as any kindling he would find would be soaked in the snow or just a block of ice. And it slowly became clear that without his horse and a fire to keep warm, Benny would end up like anyone who entered the North Woods. Dead.

I'm going to die, he thought as tears welled in his eyes. Maybe it was what he deserved; he went north against his brother's wishes to follow a man he wanted to impress. He'd never see his brother again, or his family; he'd never get to return to Felicia's Garden to sit in the branches of the old oak, and read about the Viking, Nickolas Fjordborn.

The tears that ran down his cheeks were warm and melted any flakes of snow that touched his face. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stared into the dark forest. Benny tensed at the sight of an unnatural light that pierced through the mist; two white lights, directly next to one another and as round as a platter, hovered in the mist, completely still.

Benny couldn't be sure but felt as if the lights were watching him, like a set of disembodied eyes. He didn't dare move; if he was right and the lights (whatever they were) actually were watching him, then it would be safer to not make any quick and sudden movements. So, he slowly got to his feet and stepped around the tree he had been resting on, and backed away into the forest.

Once he was sure that there was a fair distance between the lights and himself, Benny dared to turn away. He trudged through the snow, hoping that by some miracle of God that he would find Garmann, or stumbled across Rufus or Achim. Or maybe, he would even find an end to the accursed forest, and make his way back to Venison Dream.

How did Achim ever find his way back out of these forests? Every step he took seemed to put him back in a place he had already been before, but it's not like he could actually tell. Benny just walked in as straight a direction as he could, often having to adjust due to a steep hill or trees blocking his way.

After sometime Benny took a chance look over his shoulder. His heart stopped when the wide set lights seemed closer to him than they were the last he saw them. Benny wanted to deny it but found that the truth was staring him in the face as a pair of unblinking eyes. This creature was watching him, following him even! Garmann had told him that there were no animals in the North Woods, and ironically might have been attacked by a forest dweller. Now the hunters were being hunted, or they were prey the moment they crossed into the miasmatic woods.

Benny tried to calm his pounding heart by taking deep breaths. He stared back at the curious eyes, his features showed no fear but was threatened every second as his sudden face of bravery cracked from the intense fear and adrenaline that pumped through him. The eyes seemed to notice the fear in him, and whatever they were attached to could possibly smell it as well.

"Hmmm...hubris hunters, desecrating these fine hunting grounds." Benny's heart froze at the sound of a man's voice - maybe he was not going to die. "Well, an odd semblance of humility."

Benny turned to see a man standing within the dark mist; he was tall, abnormally so, coming to around seven feet in height and wore only pants made of crow feathers stitched together using eyelashes and teeth. His bare torso was whiter than the snow, and his stomach was unnaturally sucked in to show rows upon rows of ribs; fifteen on each side. Around his neck, held together by a thin string were a myriad of pale tongues, some of which looked to have been recently harvested - if they were animal or human Benny was not willing to find out.

"A frolicking child is a great pleasure." The stranger directed a set of black eyes towards Benny and spoke as if he was chewing, "I do prefer them younger, and with more meat on their chests. But a feminine boy might be even better. Tight and unexplored. Run along beast, this one here is mine."

The eyes lingered on Benny before backing away silently into the woods. Benny was grateful that the creature had left, but feared that he was placed in an even worse situation. The stranger made a slow trek towards him, dragging something behind him in one of his hands. When he was closer, Benny had to cover his mouth and refrain from emptying his stomach right there; clutched between long bony fingers was a severed arm, the bone from where it seemed to have been torn directly off was jagged and dented with bite marks marring the flesh. Held in the limb's hand was a hunting rifle, holding the stock in a death grip and the trigger finger missing.

It was Rufus' rifle in its hand, and he could now see the blood smeared smile on the stranger's face.

"Hubris, witless hunters. Traipsing around with rifles loaded, searching for their trophies," the stranger said.

Benny went to take a step away from the monster but stumbled onto his back. The stranger was now towering over him with the same sick smile on his face; he leaned down completely over him, his face mere inches away from Benny's, close enough for the stench of blood to be clear. The stranger's free hand shot up and wrapped around Benny's neck, almost crushing it and snapping his spine from the sheer force of its grip. He pulled down Benny's scarf to reveal the pale skin beneath; his smile grew wider, and Benny could now see sets of red stained serrated teeth.

"Hunters, oh hunters. I have found my trophy," the stranger said. "Should I now, or should I take later my reward from you, dear prey?"

The hand around his throat prevented Benny from calling for help; only scared whimpers and grunts managed to make it out as his response.

"Later. When you're cold, and you'd give no resistance, shall my reward be claimed. Take comfort knowing that hell will arrive later for you rather than sooner," the stranger said. His jaw unhinged, and his jagged teeth protruded from dark red gums. Benny had no way to scream as the maw sunk deep into his neck, and suddenly, all Benny could feel was the darkness that had been around him that night. It sang to him a lullaby that lulled him into a deep eternal sleep.

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Dance of Seasons

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