Author's Note: For those of you who are familiar with my Rise of Evil series, yes, I do use that world to tell this story; however, this is fanfiction, so it's not canon with my actual series.
Enjoy!
…...
A frozen heart is a dead heart.
—Proverb from the Archduchy of Weselton
Chapter 1: The True Cost of Power
"It is as we feared, Your Majesty. The Southern Isles have declared war on us and the Holy Sovereign Authority has labeled you in league with the Dark Gods due to your … powers," said the general who sported his medals of valor and duty to the kingdom of Arendelle. Unfortunately, those medals were mostly ceremonial as no one in chamber waged battle in their lifetime.
"Damn," muttered Her Majesty, the Austere Queen of Arendelle, Elsa, as she studied the map of her kingdom before her, many tokens of enemy placements as well as her own army positioned on it. She stood in the assembly hall now converted into the kingdom's war room as Arendelle hadn't executed war in over a century. The ornate drapes and paintings of the previous generations of peaceful rulers contrasted with the large cherry wood table where all of Arendelle's military leaders stood along with Princess Anna and her husband, Kristoff.
Elsa glanced up at the two largest portraits, her mother and father, staring down at her, their serene soft smiles granting her a sliver of peace in these troubled times. Louder, she asked, "Then what of the Duke of Covington?"
The general's face, despite his large gray beard, thick mustache and eyebrows, fell as he raised a rolled up a scroll. "I have his withdrawal of support right here. With the Secottian Elder's excommunication of all of Arendelle, the devout duke dares not go against the Secottian's edicts."
"Then what do we have then, gentlemen?" asked their queen, her hands planted on the table.
The older man pointed at a dozen ships on the map, not too far from the capital. "Weselton's entire navy sits outside our bay. Four heavy war galleons with eight cutters. They are using icebreakers and dragon's oil to chip away the ice you've conjured. It doesn't seem their efforts is paying off, but that will be a different story upon the arrival of the first spring thaw." He moved the pointing rod to the south and east borders of the map. "The Southern Isles has mobilized and sent a token force to the ground troops already at our eastern borders, but the Finjinward have recently taken Stallgaard Keep. It looks like they will use it as a provisional base and fortify it to keep their supply lines running. I think they will wait out the rest of the winter unless Covington sends troops and supplies."
"We lost Stallgaard Keep?" asked Elsa, her voice incredulous. She cast a concerned glance at her sister, Anna, who also looked on with a worried expression. The enemy was now within the borders of Arendelle, something that has never happened.
The general straightened. "We hadn't staffed the keep to full capacity in over five decades. It consisted of only a complement of a hundred soldiers who possessed no training. I can assure you, Your Majesty, that when the Finjinward marches to Jutengaard, they will have a harder fight ahead of them. I've already position heavy catapults on the battlements."
"What about our men?"
"They are untested, Your Majesty. We haven't fought a war in over a hundred and ten years, and the mountains haven't had any monsters since the founding of Arendelle by the Snow Queen herself."
"You're sure that Jutengaard is their next target?"
"It has to be. If the City of the Great Oak falls, then it's Valefrost Hold and then the capital. Finjinland is throwing everything they have to make the push. So far, Duke Covington has resisted the calls to open his borders for the Holy Sovereign's troops, but that will happen by the end of this winter. Our spies have indicated that the Covington parliament debated the measure and it was narrowly defeated with some hoping that the Secottian Elder will make an appearance to offer an impassioned plea. If he does that, the duke will be forced to declare war on us as well."
Elsa stared at the map, the silence around the table deafening. Six months have passed since she revoked the treaty with the Duchy of Weselton and exiled Prince Hans back to his homeland in the Southern Isles. Word spread of her sorcery, many of her own populace reacting with stoic reservation. Now this. Three formal declarations of war with the divine backing of the Holy Sovereign Authority. Luckily for Arendelle, her enemies mobilized quickly during the winter, granting Elsa the advantage, but she still struggled with her powers from time to time. Impassible blizzards, the ice-ladened Arendelle Bay, and the insurmountable Pass of the Northern Mountains proved too much of a strain on her at times.
Despite her efforts to protect her people, the accusations came: the Queen of Arendelle fornicated with the Dark Powers in her own bedchambers, allowing her body to defiled in foul ecstasy to sell her soul for magic. Such ridiculous nonsense! Her own church hierarchy within the kingdom tried to stir the populace against her crown, forcing her hand to arrest them on charges of treason. Currently, forty clergy, some of them who provided her spiritual advice ever since she was a little girl, now rotted in her dungeons until she decided what to finally do with them. Their execution warrants sat unsigned on her desk upstairs as she hoped in desperation she wouldn't affix her seal anytime soon.
Even now as she met the worried stares of her four generals, their chiefs of staff, and adjunct commanders, at least half of them betrayed their stance on their queen by their skittish looks, worried that their souls and the souls of their children would forever suffer the ravages of the Torment. Elsa possessed enemies within her kingdom too. She tread on thin ice.
"Very well, General Holdenbrook. The kingdom thanks you for your report. Please keep me apprised of any further developments. Consider yourselves dismissed for the evening, and no one is to disturb me unless bringing dire news."
The militiamen bowed, their boots clicking hard together. Some proffered their bow slower than others, their eyes hard and cold like an Arendelle winter.
Those men will have to be watched, possibly relieved of command, Elsa thought as they filed out of the room, leaving her alone with her sister and her husband.
"Why are you still here? This is no place for you and Kristoff. You should leave as well."
"My place is by your side, beloved sister," said Anna, her hand on her bulging stomach, the child growing within. It's been a season since they announced the coming of a royal heir; especially as Elsa hasn't taken a suitor of her own. No one in all the continent would dare consider themselves a potential suitor to Arendelle's queen these days.
Elsa should have acted upon the Duke of Covington's proposal almost a year ago as the union would have provided mutual benefits to both trade and security against Weselton, but that unraveled as the man thirty years her senior formally rescinded his offer, expelling her ambassador on the basis of her magical might. Her hand balled up, ice blossoming out from her fist onto the table.
"Your hand," said Anna, her tone soft as she gestured to the table.
"I know. I'm wrestling with my emotions at the moment!" Elsa turned her back, storming to the window, throwing open the drapes. Half-turning to the couple behind her, the queen commanded, "I wished to be alone now."
"Come wife, let's grant her peace," said Kristoff, his arm wrapped around Anna's shoulder, motioning toward the door.
She spared him a glance, almost ready to defy him, but she relented without a word. She offered a small bow to Elsa. "Your Majesty."
Elsa nodded in response.
Kristoff followed after saying the same. The door closed with a heavy click, silence reigning in the room, save the heavy crackling of wooden embers in the fireplace.
Elsa sighed at her curt dismissal of her sister and Kristoff. "Ah, how times were so much simpler when we were children playing in the gathering hall." She shook her head.
The queen returned to the table, glaring at the enemy positions.
"There is a way out," she said to herself, her tone delicate.
Abdication.
Elsa would announce she would abdicate the throne, bequeath her sister the title of Queen Regent until the birth of her child which then shall be the rightful ruler of all of Arendelle. It would be the only way to save Arendelle from occupation by Finjinland, the Southern Isles, and Weselton. Covington would be forced to demand the forces already in Arendelle's borders to withdraw; especially once word reaches the courts that the Queen Regent has exiled Elsa.
For her sister, she would do that, because she didn't see how General Holdenbrook could carry out his directives with men who could barely put the pointed end of a sword in another man's chest. Arendelle's soldiers were no cowards, but they were not battle-tested. Arendelle needed serious firepower in the form of heavy catapults, capable of decimating calvary and archer units in one fell swoop.
Elsa had none of that.
She turned away from the map, waving her hand in a fluid motion, a frosty air emanating from her fingers. In a breath, the temperature in the chamber dropped precipitously, snuffing out the flames in the lit lanterns, the chandeliers above, and killing the flames from the hearth. The rays from the waning sun filtering through frosted windows provided the sole source of light.
Elsa slumped in a plush wooden chair, kicking off her white silken slippers. She studied the chair, a gift provided by one of the most renowned artisans of all of Arendelle, his large manor not even a stone's throw from the royal castle. Her fingers traced the bas relief of dragons, cavorting elves, and twisting fey leaves, the detail of such work not seen in many years and unlikely to be replicated by any other of her country's woodworkers.
The man who spent months painstakingly crafting it had been dead for almost a week now, hung by order of the magistrate for taking part in a minor insurrection. Elsa still carried his death warrant in the folds of her regal gown, a reminder of the dark times she lived in and how things can turn so much worse in the future.
How many more must die by her hand to cement her rule? She didn't ask for these powers, this magic supposedly from the original Snow Queen who founded the land of Arendelle, its word in their ancient tongue meaning, "Land of Snow and Death."
Was that what she was to become? Another Snow Queen like her ancestor, commanding magic controlling the elements and wielding the power of death? Arendelle's history is well-documented of the founder's penchant for cruelty, carnal appetites, and atrocious evil.
The door burst open, disturbing the queen's thoughts. "I expected … Captain Jarlick, why are you—"
Elsa didn't have a chance to finish her statement as she faced off against one her captains who moments earlier stood in the war room. He had been as still as a gravestone throughout the entire proceeding.
In his hand was a long throwing knife, its blade possessing an oily sheen. The assassin wouldn't have to plunge the blade in her heart, a simple nick would carry out the desired result as the fast-acting cryoleth poison would kill her within minutes.
"For Arendelle!" cried the captain as he reared back and launched his blade with deadly precision.
"No!" screamed Elsa, her hands shooting a barrage of icy spears, slapping away her attacker's weapon in mid-air, while more continued their path.
The captain didn't utter a sound as the magical lances pierced him through his chest, groin, and head, knocking him off his feet, pinning him against the door with a heavy thud. His body spasm about a foot off the floor, the thick icicles holding him firm. Crimson gore stained the ice turning it to a pure scarlet as it soaked up the man's blood.
Elsa stood there panting, her hands outstretched, soreness creeping in every muscle. The sudden burst of her power exacted a heavy price, her heart ready to burst, a sense of lightheadedness forcing her legs to wobble. She couldn't afford to pass out now.
In a brief moment, the ice broke, the captain's body slumping to the floor as the double-doors to the chamber pushed open, knocking the body aside. Several guards stormed the chamber, silvery swords in hand. Elsa conjured her own ice-hardened weapon in case these men posed as loyal subjects but in actuality the captain's backup plan.
"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" asked the lead commander, a sergeant by his rank and decorative aiguillettes.
"Throw down your weapons and kneel!" Elsa commanded.
The men obeyed, the clank of metal striking hard on the floor. They knelt with heads bowed.
Calmer, she asked, "Where the two guards who were manning my door?"
"They are still here, Your Majesty," said the sergeant.
"Arrest them on the charge of treason. You shall have them questioned and if their guilt has been determined, hang them without delay at The Square."
The sergeant looked to meet her vicious glare, and he cast his gaze back down. "The Square, Your Maj—"
"Yes! In The Square, so all of Arendelle shall know that insurrection shall be met with no mercy, no forgiveness! I desire my enemies to know who they are dealing with." She pointed at the body next to them. "Take Captain Jarlick and strip him down to his small clothes. Then cut him up into pieces and send them to the Duke of Weselton who is no doubt stuck on one of those war galleons in the bay. Let that weaseling old bastard know whom he's dancing with once his ships pulled in my harbors!"
"It … it shall be done as you say, Your Majesty." The man's voice cracked.
"Find Princess Anna, ensure she and her husband are safe."
"Your Majesty, I had already personally ordered a squadron to check on her before I stormed these doors."
"Excellent. It shall be noted in your commendation then. Consider yourself promoted to the rank of commander sergeant."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I am honored and grateful."
"One other thing. Rise, commander sergeant," said Elsa, her voice calmer now, her breathing returning to normal. She still felt stiff in her arms, but the pain ebbed away.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Upon my desk is forty warrants for execution. Bring them and my seal. Justice shall be done this night."