Disclaimer: See Summary.
A/N: So, this is a little pet project I've had cooked up. Yes, I know, I've said that before. But I'm bored, my creative juices for my other stories are running on fumes, so I figured mixing it up might inspire me to resume those stories.
Now, as a twenty-something straight dude, I'm not ashamed to say that I enjoyed Frozen. Now, hear me out. I appreciate the movie on the grounds of its story. It has well-written characters, gorgeous scenery, and a top notch soundtrack (Even if hearing kids sing the songs over and over gets repetitive to the point of being annoying). My only complaint is that it hopped on the "surprise villain" train. Other than that, I think Frozen deserves its place as one of the most famous movies in Disney's repertoire, up there with The Lion King and the other films of the Disney Renaissance.
I'll be honest, I feel like outside of Marvel, which shows promise with Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: Far From Home, and Pixar, with Toy Story 4, Frozen II seems to be the most promising thing on the horizon from Disney's empire (we're just going to ignore the abomination whose backlash motivated Disney to reveal the trailer for Frozen II, okay?)
Anyway, with all the talk about there being other magic wielders in the Frozen canon in the second movie, I thought I'd give a story of that caliber a go. Hopefully Article 13 will be little more than a sad memory in the minds of internet goers, so I'll be able to get that far in production.
As for what this story is, it's going to serve as the introduction to one of the characters who will play a prominent role in the main story. Think of this as something akin to the RWBY Character trailers, where the main takeaway from this miniseries is that each story will focus on an individual character, and will show off their magical talent.
Also, since Frozen II doesn't come out until November, I can't say for certain that my take on the magic in Frozen will follow the rules established in canon. So don't come back to me in a few months reminding me how wrong I was when the movie comes out.
As I've said, there are mentions of alcohol and some violence in this story
With that out of the way, let's get started.
She made her way to the bar, ignoring the looks some people, namely the drunk men, were sending her. She smiled as she stepped up to the bar. "Hey, bartender, get me my usual." She said, pulling a small handful of gold coins out of her pocket and slapping them onto the bar.
"Coming right up, lass." The bartender said cheerfully, taking the money and stashing it away. The young woman smiled as she drummed her fingers against the polished wooden countertop. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Good evening, miss." A young man who'd watched her walk in had put his hand on her shoulder. "What's a fine darling like yourself doing in a place like this?"
"Gettin' a drink." She replied bluntly, not even bothering to look at him. "I always come here on weekends to have a beer."
"Oh, you're Irish." He noted.
"What gave it away?" She asked, observing the shelves of alcohol in front of her. "My smooth accent, or the fact that I'm spending my Saturday getting booze?"
"Your accent." The man replied. "I've always had a thing for pretty dames with exotic accents."
"Well you're out of luck, man." She said, finally turning to face him. "I barely have an accent. I could show you where you could find someone with a thicker Irish accent."
"Nah, I'll just stay here and admire the view." He said, making a move to sit in the chair next to her. He was stopped by her arm.
"'Fraid I can't let you do that, sir." She said, fixing him with a warning look. "It's pay per view, and it's pretty expensive."
He reeled back, scowling. "What are you, a lesbian or something?" He asked.
She just smiled at him. "As a matter of fact, I am." She said proudly.
The man scoffed, before slicking his hair back. "Well, you ain't the first lady to use that excuse." He said. "But they always confess once they've spent a night with me."
"I was being serious." She replied firmly. "I'm not interested in you. So you best put that ego away before you end up hurting someone, namely yourself." She chuckled. "That is, if it'll even fit in that tiny head of yours."
The man's confident smile wavered. "You're making a mistake, turning me down." He warned her. "There'll be consequences."
"Eh," She shrugged, turning back to the bar. "I'll take my chances." With a huff, he seemed to give up and leave. The bartender came back with her drink in a brown bottle.
"Some guys just don't get the message, lass." He said. "Don't take it too personally."
"Yeah." She replied, popping the cap off the bottle with her thumb. She took a swig of the liquid inside, sighing in satisfaction. "Thanks again, man."
"Don't mention it." The bartender replied, before heading off to aid the other patrons.
The woman sighed as she took another drink. She'd had a long week of dealing with other people's bull, so a day to herself where she could have a good beer and make merry was more than welcome. Just because the fate of the world was in the hands of people like her, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself. Unfortunately, the man who'd confronted her a minute ago was just another in a long line of losers who wanted to muscle in on her personal space. Though he was one of the few to do so while completely sober.
Which sadly meant that he had the conscious thought power to come back after being told no.
"Hey lass," The bartender said, washing a glass as he glanced at the door. "Your boy brought his pals."
"How many this time?" She asked, not bothering to look.
"I'd say at least seven, plus your admirer." The bartender replied. She smirked. Let the party begin.
"Hey, miss!" The man from earlier shouted. She casually spun the barstool around to face him, quirking an eyebrow at the gang of thugs with him. "I warned you what would happen if you said no to me."
She took a swig of her drink, before rolling her eyes. "Hey, now," She said. "You're making a scene." She cast a knowing look at the patrons, who were already grabbing their food and drinks and heading for the door, many bearing excited grins. "Now look what you did, you're making them leave."
The man just scoffed as he stepped forward, his boys following behind. "They just know that they don't wanna see what happens next."
At this, the woman chuckled. "I dunno." She said, stirring the drink in her hand. "They usually finish their meals before they need to leave."
"What's that?" The man asked.
The woman just flashed a knowing smile, before surveying the thugs. "You know, you brought an awful lot of guys with you." She observed. "Were they waiting outside or something?"
"That's none of your business." The man countered.
"Maybe," She shrugged. "Maybe not." Then she turned to address the thugs. "I'm guessing you guys haven't heard of me." She got no response. "Can't I at least finish my beer before you boys decide to put your hands on me?"
"Fine." The man said, frustration oozing from his voice.
"Thanks, lads." She said, spinning around to face the bar counter again. The goons all approached, until the man was standing directly behind her.
"You might want to take cover, man." She said, addressing the bartender, who ducked under the counter with a grin.
As she chugged down the rest of her beer, she let out a long sigh. "Ahhh, that hit the spot." She mused.
"Alright, doll." The man said. "You've had your drink. Now can we get down to business?"
"Yes, we can." She replied, readjusting her grip on the empty bottle.
She spun around and smacked the man over the head with the empty bottle. With little more than a grunt, he dropped like a sack of Irish Golds, and his boys all lurched back in shock.
Dropping the shattered remains of the bottle to the floor, she bent down and effortlessly hoisted the unconscious scoundrel into the air, tossing him to the other side of the bar. The goons all watched as their boss sailed through the air, landing near the door in a heap. They turned to stare at the woman, who was looking back at them with a smug grin. She held up her hands in a universal gesture: Come get some.
The first goon was dispatched quickly; a swift kick to his vulnerable nether regions and he fell to his knees, squealing in a soprano voice, before an elbow to the jaw left him sprawling.
Two more thugs charged, and the first of the two rushed in with a wild punch aimed at her face. His fist made contact with the side of her head, but the scream that followed was not hers. The man reeled back, clutching his now broken hand, before an uppercut to the chin launched him into one of the booths, where he lay out cold.
The second thug seemed unfazed by what had just happened, and simply tried to attack her with a concealed knife. A wrist mounted blade, she mused. How original. The blade snapped clean off the hilt as it hit her skin, flying off and smashing a wine glass behind her. She hooked her arm under the thug's own and twisted. A snapping sound and a pained scream met her ears before she spun around and tossed the man over the edge of the counter.
She charged forward, slamming into the biggest of the group. Once she was sure she was far enough away, she threw herself backwards, suplexing the man to the ground. She could hear her adoring fans cheering her on from outside the building. She briefly paused in the action to blow kisses to her captive audience.
In her moment of distraction, one of the three remaining thugs had grabbed a chair and charged at her, smashing the wooden chair over her head. She didn't even flinch, instead turning to the now not-so-confident assailant. "Really?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I'm sorry." He replied hastily. "Ya can't blame me for trying." She responded by knocking him on the forehead, and he crumpled to the ground. One of the two remaining goons charged at her wildly, shouting a battle cry. She responded by holding her arm out to the side, clotheslining him. He dropped to the floor, unconscious.
Satisfied, she brushed her hands off. Then she looked at the last remaining thug. "You want some?" She asked.
He held his arms up nervously. "I-I don't even like these losers, ma'am." Then he hastily dashed out of the bar. The crowds outside broke into cheers, and with a smile on her face, she took a bow.
"I gotta say, these idiots seem to just be getting more and more pathetic." She said, as she dragged one of the unconscious goons to a corner of the room, where the bodies were being lined up.
"I'm impressed." The bartender added. "You only broke one chair this time. It's a new record."
"Awesome." She replied, hoisting one of the creeps over her shoulder. She inspects his wrist. "I'm impressed. This one had a wrist blade hidden in his sleeve."
"Oh really?" The bartender replies. "I hear those are in style these days."
"Eh." She shrugs. "I prefer just raw muscle to a metal blade."
The bartender chuckles. "Typical Mallory."
Mallory raises an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Bryce?"
"Nothing." Bryce replied. "It's just that you seem to have that bull-headed response, just because you're unbreakable. That just seems so typical of you, Mallory O'Dain."
Mallory rolled her eyes. "Whatever, loser." Bryce smirked. Mallory's face grew serious. "So, any news on You-know-who's movements?"
Bryce sighed. "Not much." He replied, shaking her head. "One of the patrons earlier did report that he saw Baldur's dreadnought heading south."
"That's it?" Mallory asked. "Just the dreadnought?"
"Yeah." Bryce replied. "Not sure what he's after, but it can't be good."
"Nothing is good as far as that psycho is conerned." Mallory frowned. "Any other news you'd like to share?"
Bryce hummed. "Well, there is something going on up in Norway that I thought you'd be interested in."
"Yeah?" Mallory asked, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a small sack and dumped the contents out onto the counter. "There you go, man. Fifty gold pieces. That should cover the chair and the glasses I broke."
Bryce chuckled and took five coins from the pile, pushing the rest back towards her. "Thanks, kid, but I think this will be enough." He said.
"Okay, suit yourself." Mallory shrugged, pocketing the money. "So, this thing, up in Norway. Tell me about it."
Bryce took a breath. "Well, you heard about that freak storm that took place there a few months ago, right?"
"Yeah," Mallory replied. "And in the middle of the Summer, too. What about it?"
"Well, there's rumors floating around that the queen of Arendelle was responsible for it." Bryce answered.
Mallory's eyes widened. "What?"
"I can't make this up." Bryce said, shaking his head again. "A merchant from Spain who'd been in Arendelle at the time told me all about it."
"What happened?" Mallory asked.
"See, according to this merchant, it happened during the queen's coronation. He doesn't know the details of what happened, but the young queen rushed out of the ball in a panic. Froze the entire town in ice. Apparently she did it with out even trying."
"Sweet buttery potatoes..." Mallory gaped. Then she furrowed her brow. "This is bad."
"I know that look." Bryce said. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that I need a fast ship to Arendelle, and soon." Mallory replied. "If Baldur gets to her first..."
"Oh, shit, you're right." Bryce said, eyes widening in realization. "He'll raze Arendelle to the ground."
"And that's just if she refuses to kneel." Mallory added. "We can't afford to let him get his hands on that much untapped power." She placed another gold coin on the counter. "I'll take one to go, please."
Bryce nodded, reaching below the counter and pulling out a bottle, tossing it to her. "Hey, think of it like this," He mused. "If you make it to Arendelle first, you might actually score yourself a girlfriend. Oh, the others will be thrilled."
"What?" Mallory asked. "Me, with the queen of a freaking country?" She burst out laughing. "Ahahahahaha, oh, gods, that's a good one." She popped the cap off the bottle and took a long swig. "The day I marry a queen is the day pigs fly."
"Hey, you never know." Bryce shrugged. "Now go on, go save the world."
"You got it, man." Mallory said, nodding as she turned to leave.
"And for the love of the gods, bring the whole crew with you next time!" Bryce shouted.
"Okay, man. Will do. See ya later!" Mallory replied as she ran out the door.
A/N: So, that's that. I feel like I did pretty well. I didn't explicitly lay out what's going on. That part comes later. Also, I picked a random name for Mallory that I figured sounded Irish in my head. Her last name is pronounced "Oh-Dine," by the way. And yes, she will be important.
So, can anyone guess what her magic talent is? I can't call them quirks or semblances, so Talent is going to have to do. I've decided I'll let the readers have a chance to guess what the character's talent is in each story. Again, I can't guarantee that the nature of magic in this AU will have any similarity to how the sequel is going to establish it. So bear that in mind.
Also, the wrist blade was a reference to Assassin's Creed. It does not, however, mean that this is a crossover. It's just a reference. A GAME REFERENCE!
Anyway, yeah. I think I'll give this a few days to sit, then start working on the next one.
Until then, please read, review, favorite, and follow, and I'll see you all next time. Peace out, and may the Force be with you. Always.