John was worried for Elsa.

The girl had returned, weary and bloodstained, well past midnight. She hadn't said a word, simply tossed a packet of green leaves onto the ground in front of him, tossed his bloodstained cloak to the ground, then climbed into her sleeping roll and fallen asleep.

He had reason to believe the sleep was not a very long one.

It had been three days since she had returned on the mission, and Bran was healthy as an ox. Well, an ox with two legs. They were to begin traveling tomorrow, so they were getting a good nights sleep right now.

Two of them were. One of them was having a nightmare.

Elsa shivered in the cold, alone in the forest. She had no idea where she was.

"Bran? John?" She could see her breath on the air, but that wasn't was concerned her. The problem was that she was cold.

She was cold.

Elsa was never cold. Not ever. In the middle of a blizzard, under a freezing waterfall, buried in a snowbank. She didn't get cold. It didn't happen.

So why was she now?

Off in the distance, a twig snapped, and she hurriedly reached for her swords. When she pulled them out, however, it was not Frost and Bite that greeted her. Instead, it was the sword she had taken from that icy ground where she had left Han's body. It was held together with red ice - frozen blood, she realized, as a drop of it fell from the tip and hit the floor.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the forest. She was in the tavern again, holding the sword, surrounded by dead men. She turned, looking around, seeing blood everywhere. On the walls, on the ground, on herself.

She was splattered with it. She wore a dress much like the one she had created in her ice castle, but this one was red, forged with frozen crimson. She dropped her sword, aghast, but a hand picked it up and raised it to her. Shocked, she saw Kori standing there, blood dribbling from his mouth as he held her blade up to her. He was covered with a layer of ice, grinning as he held the sword by the blade. She backed up, but bumped into a cold figure. It was the boy she had killed first, standing there with a grin on his face and ice coating his body.

Slowly, all the men stood, all bearing frosty grins. One of them began to laugh, and they all picked up on it, giggling hysterically as she whirled in a circle, terrified. She stopped, facing Kori, and he fell to the ground, kneeling.

"We serve you, Ice Queen." He said, looking up at her, still grinning. "We are your army. Let us fight for you! Let us shed blood in your name! Let us kill as you killed us!" Elsa stared, terrified, as all the dead men nodded.

"For the ice queen!" They said, raising swords to the air. Kori smiled. "We just need one thing." He stood, towering above her, then reached a hand towards her.

"Your heart."

Elsa woke up screaming, hugging her knees to her chest as tears streamed down her face. John was sitting on the ground in front of her, holding his hand on her shoulder. She sat up, still crying, and he pulled her into him.

They sat that way for a moment, Elsa crying, tears freezing as they fell off her face; John not saying a word, holding the young woman to him. After a moment, he sighed.

"I remember when I first killed a man." He said, brushing Elsa's hair with his hand. "I hated myself for weeks. How could I have done that? Granted, he was trying to kill me at the time, but I still hated myself for it." Elsa sat up, looking at him.

"I eventually came to the realization that he was dead, and I was grieving over him as if he were a loved one and not someone who deserved his fate. I realized that I killed him because I had to. Because something had to be done." John sighed again. "I seen some people die who I wish could have lived." He gained a faraway look in his eyes, then shook his head. "But never have I killed someone without an honest reason. The same goes for you."

Elsa looked at him for a moment, then looked down. "No."

"I killed my sister. And today, I caused the death of a good man and his daughter. The men I killed may have been monsters, but I killed them with hatred in my heart, not any sense of justice. And you expect me to be the cause of many, many more deaths in the future. How am I supposed to live with that if I cannot live with the deaths of forty-seven already?"

John gasped, but from behind her, Bran whistled. "Fourty one of them, eh? All for little ol' me." She turned, glaring at him. "Elsa, you have never killed a single person who did not deserve death. Those men must have truly been monsters for someone as kind as you to turn to bloodshed in order to stop them."

Elsa scoffed. "I'm not kind."

Bran shook his head, as did John.

"You exiled yourself from your own homeland to protect them from your actions. Once you found that wasn't enough, your first thought was to give yourself up to atone for that. And when that was said to be futile, you agreed without a second thought to risk your life to trek across an entire continent, gain control of an army of ice demons, then walk all the way back across the continent to save the homeland who you think calls you a monster. If that is not someone who cares about her people, please tell me what is." John said from behind her, and Elsa sighed.

The next words shocked her to her core.

Bran looked at her and smiled. Casually, as if it were like discussing the weather, he said "Oh. And your sister is alive and well, by the way."

No one saw the slap coming, not even Elsa. Bran clutched his cheek, shocked, as Elsa reared her hand back for another one. John grabbed her wrist, turning her around. "He probably deserved that. But would you have come with us if we told you? She awoke not even a week after you exiled yourself. She is fine and well, married to that boy with the reindeer you sent off with her."

Elsa just stared at him, so many emotions running through her head at one time. Relief, Anger, Sorrow, Longing - she was just so confused. John hugged her, patting her head as she began crying with joy. Anna was alive! She hadn't murdered her sister, she wasn't a monster.

After a few moments, Elsa fell onto her bedroll, the past few sleepless nights as well as the exaughstion that came from being so happy taking its tole. She slept happily, dreaming about her sister.

John looked over to Bran, after making sure the sleeping girl was was okay. "Think we should tell her about her parents?"

Bran thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. She'll have to figure that out on her own. And if we did tell her, there's no way in hell we could keep her with us. Besides." He said, rubbing his face. "I really don't want to get slapped again."

The table was massive, made with granite and embedded with precious stones. The rock was smooth to the touch, worn down by human means. The king sat in a massive, high-backed chair at the end of the table, watching as his many children entered. Twenty-two children he had sired. Twenty now, seeing as one had died in an... unfortunate boating accident some four years ago. And another had died recently. That was why he had gathered the Princes and Princesses of the Southern Isles to Synholme; he needed to make an announcement and a promotion.

He ran a hand through his grey hair, watching as the last of his children walked through the door. They sat themselves from oldest to youngest, going clockwise from his right to his left. There would have been two empty seats, but he had had his servants remove them already. So the purpose of the meeting had already been detirmined by a few of the brighter ones, noting Hans's absense.

Erak was not one of these. He was a feirce warrior, but not exactly a genius. He was, however, the oldest, and most likely to inherit the throne when he died. Most likely, unless one of the others made a more compelling case, beat him in a trial of combat or killed him.

The first and last were the most likely options.

His sons, from oldest to youngest, were seated on his left side. Erak, the eldest, was entering his fourtieth year. Then was Uld, who was more of a scholar than a leader - if the throne was handed to him, he would most likely pass it off. He even had a book in front of him at this very moment, for gods sakes. Then there was Sean, Alex and Torin - they'd probably make good kings, but they were in their early thirties and had just started families. They were too busy for ambition. Then there was the twins - Derek and Jared. They were quiet, and spent most of their time together, plotting whatever it was they were currently doing. They were scientists, always up in their laboratoy. Rumor had it that they were no longer testing on rats, and had moved to more... intelligent test subjects.

No matter. They could do as they pleased with their land, as long as they still got him the taxes they required. Their technological discoveries had advanced the country ahead by miles, while the rest of the world crawled at their snail-pace. They had also done a few... improvements on one of his daughters.

Then there was Connor. A curious sort of man, Connor locked himself in the top tower of his castle for months on end, emerging only when absolutely needed. Rumors were that he fancied himself a sorceror of some sort.

Then there were the two male triplets - Ra and Set. They bickered constantly, but in a menial way. There was never really a true fight between the three triplets. The youngest three were all born of the same mother - Stabb, Inton and Hans. They were a trio of monsters when put together. But, the elder two had been locked up in jail for stealing a crown or some such nonsense. Hans had tried to steal a crown of his own.

Look where that had gotten him.

Then was the seven daughters. None of them were every likely to gain control of the throne, unless there was a massive coup. And if any of them were going to stage one, it would be the eldest, Cyrin. She was in her mid-thirties, and commanded the second largest set of her own islands, the only one larger owned by Erak. She was cold, cruel and calculating, one of the smartest - and cruellest - of the clan. Next in line of the females was Roa, who was honestly not interested in the throne. She preferred to swordfight and joust as if she were a man, not a woman. Rumor had it that she had killed men for asking for her hand without asking for a trial in combat first.

The third triplet, Ibis, spent her time with her brothers. Not much to say about her - she was pretty, and had married a minor lord from some country in the east. The fourth daughter was not present, however - she was the first of the siblings to die. No big loss. The fifth daughter, Crysti, was the smartest person in the room, without a doubt. She was not cruel nor ambitious, however. She spent all of her time with Uld and the twins, developing theories in the field of mathematics, of all things. Next was Seraph - she was pretty, but empty headed. He reminded himself to marry her off to some lord, seeing as she had no province of her own to control.

The final daughter was not at her seat, and he sighed, turning to look behind him.

"Come out, Daenerys. Now is not the time for play." The empty wall he was talking to didn't reply. "I mean it."

Slowly, a figured stepped out from the shadow at the base of the wall. He hair was pure black, and she seemed to rise out of the ground, forming herself out of the very shadow. Her eyes were pure red, and she grinned - a feral sort of grin, telling of bloodlust and a love for violence.

She was his favorite daughter.

Born with the power of Darkness, she was able to manipulate shadows to form at her will. He used her as his greatest assassin, capable of killing men simply by touching their shadows. No one really knew the depth of her abilities, and no one really wanted to find out. Even the twins, who had spent years... improving her, had no knowledge of how strong she was.

"How could you tell, Father?" She asked, walking slowly to her seat. She kicked her feet up on the table, laughing as Seraph scooter her chair away from her.

"Thats where you always hide if you aren't sitting in your chair. Now is not the time for idle questions, people. Hans is dead." The gathered crowd was not really surprised. Someone had to die in order to call a meeting of this sort, and Hans was the only one not present. "I have given control of his territories to Daenerys, and set a reasonable price on the head of his killer. However, I do not expect any bounty hunters to capture the murderer." He sighed. "It seems she has powers equal to, if not greater than Daenerys." The group was all shocked at this - save the Shadow Princess herself, who merely grinned.

After a moment, Uld spoke up. Always the first to question. "So... who killed him, father?" The assembled royals nodded, looking for an answer.

The king smiled. "Queen Elsa of Arendelle." The shock was plain, for a moment. Some of them were concerned. Others just grinned, knowing what would happen next.

"The combined fleets of whoever wishes to go will wage war on Arendelle. We leave next month." He turned to Daenrys, nodding his head. "Your fleet will lead the charge. Who wishes to assist her?"

Erak stood up immediately, as did Roa and the Twins. The three triplets all stood up as well.

King Galbet smiled. The combined fleets were already larger than the population of Arendelle.

"Once you have secured the country as our own, send word back to us. I will send out my fleet -" There was a gasp from all the listeners present "- and we will wage war upon the entire continent. The death of our brother has won us much more today. Praise Hans!" He shouted, and the rest of the group echoed his call.

"Praise Hans!"

He smiled.

Now was the time to go to war.

IT LIVES!

Yo, Im here with chapter 7 of this one. Sorry if you wanted to read this and instead got Fractals - I had an idea, so i went with it. I am Sowwwwy .

No violence in this one D: But plenty of crucial plot development. Like, a ton.

"Should we tell her about her parents?"

So, yeah. Thanks for reading, drop a review, a PM, a fave/follow, your pants, whatever.

Love Y'all!

-Arac