A/N: FINALLY! I have updated this fic! I deeply apologize for how long it took me to get this up, but I have had the biggest case of writer's block with this thing. However, I am starting to get back into the swing of this one amid my two Sailor Moon fics, my OC happy HP fic, and my childhood murdering HP fic. As I had noted when I started this, this one will likely not be too terribly long. In fact, I am a bit past one third finished with this, but at about chapter seven, I will be asking you all a poll question that will decide the ending of this fic. I am very happy with how this is going once more, but the writers block is still strong with this one. This chapter is a more Kristoff centered one.
WARNING: This chapter contains gore, graphic violence, and an ending sure to leave several enraged. Don't even complain about the contect level, as the previous chapter I gave you all porn. Fair exchange, eh?
With love,
Korrupted.
Shout outs:
Stalker69: The fact that you are stalking this paired with your username makes me smile. I am very sorry about how long you had to wait for this small of an update, but I have been trying so hard to write with nothing coming. Hopefully, I will be updating a lot more frequently soon.
VR Fighter 3000: I know it's a sad song. Whether it comes true as foreshadowing or remains just a song will be in the hands of the readers soon. And there will be no way of you knowing which answer will bring about which ending. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Cobalt Dusk: THANK YOU! I'm glad I am doing her series justice. She's actually a huge fan of this fic, and I ALWAYS note her the chapter links on DA. It was Hail the queen and I'm Sorry that sparked this fic into being. I named it after the comic depicting her ending. Like I mentioned above, there will be a choice issued to the readers later on that will decide what ending will happen. If she does not make it, there are a few options I have to pull from, one of which being the ending from the actual Frozen Heart comic by Atomicredboots herself. As for who is Valhalla? I think you should have asked what is Valhalla. It is the residence of Norse mythology where fallen warriors dwell. They feast and are forever at peace, lead to their eternal lodgings by Odin's Valkyrie. Of course, the dead are still called upon by the living to aid them in times of war, so it;s not all party-hardy there. But, that is Valhalla.
Also, a belated happy birthday to Atomicredboots! Without her art, this fic wouldn't exist!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FROZEN. Disney does. I just borrow them and bring them back hungover and uncomfortable. This fic was inspired by the AU series drawn by Atomicredboots on deviant art. CHECK IT OUT IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY, YOU SLACKERS! The art is amazing!
Kristoff stood before his people, his form towering over theirs as the trolls gathered around him, awaiting his instruction. Though they did not enjoy warfare, they knew that love and war went hand in hand at times, that you also had to defend that which you loved. "Brethren, today we march across the frozen waters of the fjord to aid the Ice Queen. Those who do not wish to fight are to take the children and remain here. Should I not return, Gispai is to be your new Chief. Give him the respect you have given me, and the time to learn all that I have." He commanded, taking a yellow and green shard of crystal from his cloak and placing it about the neck of the young male troll.
The young troll looked at the shard nervously, then to his mentor, asking in a soft voice, "But... I don't want to fail them! How do I lead the tribe?"
Kristoff smiled warmly in reply. "With your heart. Lead them with your heart, it will not betray you."
The young troll seemed to take solace in his words, looking back up at his chief with watery eyes before nodding. He would need all of the wisdom and strength of those before him during this uncertain time, Gispai straightening his squat frame and motioning for those he would be leading away to follow him, his mouth set in worry. Kristoff would surely return to them. He had to.
The blond chief closed his eyes grimly, letting out a breath through his nose as the heavy sound of crunching snow interrupted his thoughts, a snort coming from behind him.
"Kristoff, I am coming with you." A slightly gruff yet nasally voice stated from behind the former human, the sound like ice being crushed against glass, yet warm.
Brown eyes set in greyish skin turned to kindly gaze upon his dearest friend; Sven. The reindeer was, as he was, changed by the constant exposure to magic. His shaggy fur was replaced by moss and thick vines in many places, his face partially like stony tree bark along the left side, his antlers wooden instead of bone-like. The creature's gaze was golden instead of the rich earthy brown it had once been, the imploring stare betraying the fact that he would easily disobey any orders to stay behind. Yes, Sven was both endearing and unquestionably frustrating all at the exact same time. The troll man ran his hand through his twig-like hair with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes at his old friend. "Fine. We will be together on the battlefield."
The creature bounded around happily at having gotten his way right off the bat, Kristoff grinning before looking to see how many would join him in this fight. Much to his own surprise, only seven stayed with Gispai and the children, even his adoptive mother waiting for his instruction. Looking among his people, the former human couldn't help but feel a large weight on his shoulders, knowing that some of them would not return. With a deep inhale through his nose, Kristoff raised a wooden staff with several glowing crystals inset into the top, runes carved along the stave. "For the Ice Queen!" He called out in his deep, powerful voice, hearing cheers arise around him as the turned and marched.
They would give the Princes of the Southern Isles much reason to fear Arendelle.
Anna was furiously pacing her room like a wolf, her scarred face set in a scowl. She was getting so very tired of waiting, wanting to fight and kill the fools who thought to harm her queen. She had stopped her training a few days ago, finally relenting to do ask Kristoff had requested of her, but the lack of even combat training was driving her up the walls. The warrior princess finally fixed on her sword belt over her woolen pants, her thick tunic of blues and greys emblazoned with the crest of her kingdom on the front, her hair in her two braids as she left. Marshmallow stood guard in front of the meeting room, Olaf chuckling absently as he almost hopped through the halls, giddy with who knows what joyful thought. If it was one about summer again, she mentally pleaded to the Gods he would keep it to himself.
The woman nodded to a group of soldiers she passed as they saluted her, her left hand reaching down to touch the crystal tied to her scabbard. Only her fingers touched the lacquered surface of the blade sheath instead. Instantly, Anna looked down, her mouth hanging open slightly as she took note of the lack of the glowing blue stone, turning to dash back to her room. "No. No, no, no!" She hissed as she began to hunt for the object, feeling as if the gift from her friend was of a very great importance in a way she didn't understand.
All she knew was that she had to find it before it was too late.
The small army of trolls looked out over the icy surface of the frozen fjord, watching the advancing army slowly marching with terrible looking devices being dragged along behind them. "Kristoff, look." Sven urged, lifting his muzzle in the direction of the fluttering banners the men carried.
It was two of the princes on the march, not all of the brothers as he had hoped. But, if it had been all of them, then the army they currently faced would have been far larger. The chief turned to face his brethren, his features stern. "Now, we must fight to preserve our people. Love is a soft whisper in times of peace, but in times of war, you must be willing to fight to the death for what you love. I love our people, this land, and my friends. I am fighting for that I love. If you are not able to, please, turn back now." He urged.
Again, not a single one of them moved, and the male was unsure if he was relieved or saddened by that. His gaze became more like frozen mud as he glanced out at their foe, a terrible green magic forming in his left hand as he held it at waist height, palm towards the sky.
"Kill them. For they will not protect us as the Ice Queen does."
A mighty battle cry of fury broke out from the trolls, the sound like boulders crashing down from the very heavens onto the earth. The army on the ice below them stopped and looked around in terror at the unearthly sound, weapons drawn to fight something they could not see at the moment. The wintry sky lit up with various shades of every color imaginable, the flowing ribbons of power cutting through the grey clouds with graceful purpose. If not for how lethal each ounce of magic was, the spectacle could be a beautiful celebration of fabled talent only the trolls could master. The volley of spells came down upon the invaders, some bursting into flame, others simply screeching in agony before violently exploding to spray their neighbors with crimson gore and splattered organs, still others simply melted slowly to terrify all those who witnessed the horrific death.
Confused and terrified screams arose from the troops, Prince Ferland and Prince Olik both trying to calm their men and themselves. But composure was something hard to grasp when your finest captains were liquefied in some places, begging you in a voice wrought with pain to kill them. The elder brother, Olik, was wide-eyed in horror, his grey-green hues darting around madly as another volley of spell approached the panicking troops. He grasped one of his soldiers and used the boy no older than sixteen as a shield, listening to him shriek in agony, releasing him swiftly as bits of fetid, oozing flesh dripped onto his armor. This battle was insanity, pure evil. What sick battalion of Ragnarok had that Ice Demoness conjured to destroy them?! Olik watched as Ferland turned to flee the battle, the younger being struck by flames in his attempt, flailing wildly in an attempt to stop their hungry burning of his body.
Grey-green eyes spotted the source of the attacks; a now approaching troll mob being lead by what seemed to be a human-troll hybrid. 'She even turned a poor boy into one of her monsters!' He thought in disgust.
Pulling his sword free, he let out a dangerous roar of fury, determined to free this man from his cursed existence that the evil woman had forced upon him. His steel blade met a wooden staff, the opposing material shockingly resilient to his weapon as the two leaders swung at each other, the elder son of the Southern Isles striking hard and fast to prevent the troll man from using magic. "What kind of sad creature are you?!" Olik shouted, dodging aside a blast of magic.
"I am me. Kristoff, the chief of the Trolls. And you are not welcome upon this land!"
The voice was firm, wise, but rough from battle. The staff struck him in the side, feeling power spark from the impact on his armor, the metal cracking a little. "What kind of mad queen does this to her subjects?" The prince demanded, trying to find a spark of humanity in this abomination. He had to destroy this Kristoff, his terrible queen had created a monster. He could hear his forces being slaughtered, a few of his unholy foe falling to his own however brought a small victory.
"She did not do this. This is simply what I am now."
'She even warped his mind!' Olik was disgusted by the actions of the Mad Queen Elsa, his blade striking the thick, stony skull of his opponent to send him reeling. Another strike to the head forced the creature to his back, the leader of the combating humans raising his sword in both hands to leave a deep gash in the hardened form of Kristoff, blood sluggishly oozing from the slash on his chest. Olik took the blade in both hands once more, the tip pointed down at the male's heart, raising it high above his head to gain more force. "GO WITH GOD. I RELEASE YOU FROM YOUR SUFFERING!" He bellowed, and brought the blade down with every ounce of strength he had in his body.
A/N: Oh, would you look at that... I was browsing through my junk items and I came upon this CLIFF HANGER. So, feel free to rage, cry, desk/table-flip, froth at the mouth, or whatever. Also, please feel free to drop a review.