AN:*hangs head in shame*

I'm late. I know. *sniffles* But I will continue on. No more surrendering to sickness.

*rips up white surrender flag into tiny pieces*

How are all of you during this Friday? I hope for the best for all of you. But I have news: Final Exams Are Over!

*Angels singing in choir*

Happy days! Callooh! Callay! And I hope my story brightens up some of your days. So, without further ado, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to respective owners, and all that boring junk.


Chapter 11: Arrivals

Oh, Gods above…

The agonized thought trailed off into nothingness as hacking coughs split through the open night air. Each tremor shook his body with the strength akin to an earthquake. No part of him was still as each wave racked his frame; his muscles curling, his heart throbbing, and his skin flinching at every blow. But he refused to fall. Instead he bent over on the saddle of his trust steed and clung to her warm frame to outwait the tremors.

It felt as though the coughing would never end, but it did.

Gasping for air, his exhausted muscles slumped uselessly, but gratefully onto the strong body underneath him. Bleary grey eyes fluttered open to reveal such a lifeless tint to the vibrant world that surrounded him. The babble of a nearby creak interwove with the sighing of the wind-blown branches high above his head. The hidden crickets chirped merrily in the moonlight in sync with the distant croak of frogs. Everything expressed life and warmth, except for those two grey windows embedded into the old man's eyes.

Even with the moon's pale light bleaching and reflecting off the landscape, the eyes of King Magnus were void of any light. However, stubborn determination did spark in the grey depths.

Come now, I'm almost there.

"Ha!" And with a nudging kick to the horse's flank, he continued onward. His moon-washed path was traveled many a time by himself, but few by others. And who could blame them, no one knew of the place except for his sons. And of course, his trustee mare, Plomme. However, many of them had grown too old for such a place. In its own way, Time was a heartless bastard, stealing away precious moments before they could be truly savored.

Childish things get packed away and forgotten. Only remembered by some decrepit old man.

King Magnus would have sighed at that if not for the knowledge that if he did, then another coughing bout would unfailingly erupt. And he was already late.

A glance forward revealed an opening in the distance. The familiarity lifted his heart and his withered face broke slightly to allow a wistful smile. In his enthusiasm to arrive, he gave another gentle nudge to quicken the steady trot. Old shadows dance across the small meadow next to the deep pond. An oddly shaped willow tree at the water's edge echoes with laughter as the shadows form into small boys playing among the ancient roots to phantom rocks skipping across the water's surface.

Agars… Stefan… Viktor… Torgeir… Gunnar… Ragnar… Frode… Folke… Harald… Carolus… Von… Erik… Hans…

A blink of an eye and the wavering phantoms flickers out of sight. Just shadows and dust.

But he refuses to go through the imminent sadness and focuses on the steadiness that had carried him so far and so faithfully. Unseating himself with the ease of unending practice, he gently guided the mare to a birch tree near the edge of the water. After the knot was tied, he patted the muscular neck of the dark-furred equine. He unbuckled and reached into the saddlebag, withdrawing a velvet plum and a small knife. A soft breath of air came from the mare as she easily recognized her favorite treat. Magnus skillfully excavated the pit of the fruit before giving the juicy prize to the patient mare.

"There you go," he whispers, "Thank you for the ride, Plomme." Another pat on the soft neck is reciprocated with the mare nudging her head affectionately against the aged man. Another twitch of a smile appears and disappears as he reaches for a walking cane secured onto the saddle.

Leaving the trustee mare to graze at the lush grasses, he limps off to the willow tree. Parting the hanging curtain of swaying leaves, he enters into a small sense of peace. The moonlight from the near full moon filtered gently into the hidden haven. Roots so old and so gnarled gave no hint as to how long the ancient tree has stood for, yet the lush curtains of flora give a youthfulness into the willow. One peculiar place in the tangle of roots was flat as if another tree had grown there and had died, leaving the flat circle among the roots.

And that was where he sat himself. Getting a good grip, he began to climb up to the higher platform, but he took it slowly as to not aggravate his breathing. He took no fright of the sudden appearance of a skittish mouse or the curious pheasant peaking its head out of its nook in the tree. He knew that he wasn't alone here. With him being seated, the tranquil pond was at his back, and the willow's face was at his front. At the sight of the familiar smile, he broke the silence.

"Hello, Grandmother Willow."

The tree retrained its eternal silence and its eternal grin. The grin was nothing more than very oddly placed nicks and indents within a shallow hallow that acted as the face. A very convincing face as eyes closed with mirth, a knowing grin, and slightly raise eyebrows were easily discernable from the tree. Even slightly darker grain acted as flowing hair that framed the face ever so carefully.

"I haven't been able to sleep for quite some time," he continued, "so I thought that dropping by for a visit would help both of us old-timers." His smile began to disappear as he divulged what troubled him. He knew he could to so with Grandmother Willow as he had done it many a times since he was a small boy himself.

"I haven't been able to sleep in so long," the weariness was apparent in his voice, "because of that damned Witch. As long as she lives, I can never be at peace nor be content. It's as if I can never be whole again." A sigh. "It absolutely irks me that even from so far away, she ruins me day by day without fail." At the end, his eyelids fall close.

He doesn't continue. He feels so weary, so drained.

He hates remembering it. He hates Queen Elsa and her perversity. He hates his weakness. He hates that he can't forget.

He loathes everything that has to do with that day. So, he changes subjects.

"But there is something else. There's something I keep seeing." He shudders at the memory. "I don't know what it is, but it terrifies me. I see many, but one stands out," he breathes deeply, "and it looks like some carcass of a dog. But it's the m-most misshapen, gods-forsaken ugly beast." Magnus tosses his head as to dislodge some horrific image, but the memory of scorched fur and a disfigured snout clung like cobwebs. He takes another deep breath to steady his voice.

"The medics have given me more and more of the damned sleeping tea, but they don't see what I see. That… thing is horrendous. An-and…" he can't continue.

Because he stills sees that horrible demon. A burnt corpse hunting for eternity for sustenance. And it terrified Magnus that it wouldn't leave him alone. For no amount of light, prayer, or holy water had kept the beast at bay for long. It always returned with those same eyes alight with hellfire. No. He hadn't slept for a long time.

A weary shudder travel through him while he was lost in thought. He noticed that he was trembling only when a stray vine loaded with leaves brushed against his shoulder. Then another and another. Carefully measuring his breaths, he slowly calmed himself from his near panic. More slender leaves caressed his shoulders while the wood beneath him held firm. Some time passed before he was able to take out his handkerchief to clear away the perspiration.

Taking a glance at the colors, he was reminded strangely of Anna. The mere thought had brought back his smile. However, it held no warmth or gentleness. She was the greatest discovery in any lifetime of any man. Surely the gods above saw the Witch Queen and knew that she must be stopped. And in turned, they sent a Valkyrie in human form to relieve such evilness from the face of the world.

With his mind fixed on Anna, he didn't notice the wind pick up ever so slightly.

"You know, Grandmother Willow, I wished I had brought Anna here before she left. You would have loved her." His cold eyes gentled slightly. "I would give anything for her to stay. When she returns, I have given thought as to give a place in my family to her. I never had a daughter and she no longer has a family."

And she truly is a joy to be around. She has her scars, but don't we all?

A yawn rips out of his mouth, which is quickly accompanied by the hacking coughs. However, with his steady breathing, he has more control over the tremors. Even as they fade again, exhaustion drags his eyelids and dazes his mind. In his crossed-leg position, he breathes in the suddenly scented air.

He continues groggily. "Poor child… lost her family when she was just a little girl. Some raiders from the far south had invaded her home. She told me that she used to live in a place that never saw snow. So, it should be really far from here." Another yawn stretches his jaw. "B-but after that, she walked to many places and saw the world all on her own. I-I know that she would fit in so easily. She has the poise of royalty."

He looks up to the ancient tree's face. Perhaps it was the shadows that blurred his vision, but it looked as if the withered old woman was nodding in understanding. He nodded back.

"She's a spitting image of me, Grandmother Willow. We were both cut down so harshly in our prime. What we love most was cruelly taken away. Knowing how powerless it feels…" He lets the sentence drift off.

All alone… that poor child. We're so alike. We have the same eyes.

Suddenly, he began to notice how heavy his head felt. Inhaling deeply, Magnus savored the aroma wafting in the air.

The scent reminded him of some of the more exotic flowers that were planted in the castle gardens. Unconsciously taking deeper and deeper breaths, his mind grows more and more hazy. Yet he hasn't felt this peaceful in so long. And it's such a peaceful place to sleep. Such safety and tranquility made him sway as he stood up from his place.

He didn't notice that he left his walking cane behind.

He didn't notice the sudden silence around the ancient tree.

All his mind was focused on was sleep. And he could see a smooth curve in the truck of the tree. It looked almost like a cradle. Sliding into the curve of the twisted root, his eyelids were so close to closing. It was so comfortable against his back, much more than his feather and silk bed back at the castle.

Just before closing himself off from the world, his upturned eyes landed on the stars. Thousands of little twinkling candles swirled their differing hues into a galactic play. He didn't even had time to think of how odd it was to see them so clearly beneath the draping willow leaves before his eyes slid shut. Barely a heartbeat passed and his mind drifted off into unconsciousness.


The unnatural silence that befell the tranquil clearing persisted.

Everything slept. The peeking pheasant and the skittish mouse had fallen asleep on the old willow tree. An old barn owl on the upper branches had its head tucked underneath a silky wing and a small ground-dwelling weasel was tucked in its earthy home. A dark-furred horse tied to a birch tree had fallen asleep standing up. There was even a man sleeping amid the roots of the protective tree.

The silence persisted as the wind blew open the draping leaves. The moonlight filtering through the willow's leaves fell upon several odd, small fluffs of white. Floating on the flower-scented breeze, the anomaly bypassed the sleeping animals in their burrows and dwellings, and began to settle solely on the sleeping old man. Clinging to hair, cloth, and skin, the little fluffs of white peppered the being who had not even stirred at the light touches. Those odd fluffs closest to the ground began to shift oddly.

Smaller pale specks attached to the fluffs of white hatched open. From them, slim green roots stretched and attached themselves into the ground or mended with the older roots of the willow. Before long, many white dandelions had grown, peppering the ground around the sleeping elder. Several long vines of willow leaves whipped to the small dandelions and carefully plucked off the floating white seeds. Cupping the small specks of life within their slender leaves, the willow's vines gave another strong whip as it scatter them into the air.

The launched seeds easily caught onto a strong breeze that headed only the gods knows where.

The remaining stems seem almost lifeless without their fuzzy crowns. But the deception was very cunning. The silence was broken and not by the stirring of the sleepers. Instead, the air was moved with the steady sound of stretching, creaking, and bending. The withered roots of the willow began to uplift themselves from their archaic resting places within the earth.

Being free of the earth's hold, the creaking roots didn't travel far until they began to cocoon around the sleeping old man. With movement as smooth as water, it did not take them long before the peaceful slumberer was entirely encased. Stems and leaves of the dandelions had interwoven themselves between the willow's roots.

In the darkness of the cocoon, the leaves slightly trembled as they began to emit an odorless gas. Trapped within the enclosed space, the air had no way of moving or exchanging to get fresher air. As the warmth in the air increased, the deeper the old man fell into sleep.

It didn't take long for the old man to fall so deeply into his slumber that he did not realize the gloomy descent that preceded death.

It didn't take long for the steady breathing to go silent within the earthy tomb.

It didn't take long for King Magnus to be no more.

Beyond the cocoon of roots, a dark figure sat at the water's edge. The features were crooked and gnarled in the moonlight. Its pelt was bleached a pale grey as it crouched on all four. The silent being seemed ghostly except for two things:

The reflection of moonlight against broken, serrated teeth and the hellish glow of red eyes.


Hmm… the sky's awake, so I'm awake.

Anna mused softly as she stood facing the east-facing window to watch the rising sun. A small upward tilt was painted onto her lips as she thought back on the night. Predictably, Anna had spent almost the entirety of it wide awake. The small snatch of a nap wasn't uncommon nowadays. But it wasn't all bad, since Anna always admire the beauty of nature. The cousins, thunder and lightning, had their own sense of a serine dance; laying in the arch of a blinding bolt to the always expected echo of the fading thunder.

But the storm had faded into silence just in time for the sun to reappear. So, there she was, watching the first hues of pink and light grey interweaving so softly into the remaining whips of clouds. Anna's teal gaze lingered on the softest hues of pink and slightly narrowed in concentration. A sense of déjà vu tickle her mind. Anna knew from experience that nature could create wonders that can outdo any achievement from mankind. So, where else has she seen the near-impossible-to-create pale pink before?

She would had stayed there contemplating for gods know how many hours if not for a small shadow appearing on the peripheral of her vision.

Turning her head, she watched the speck of darkness in the awakening light come closer. Wary, but curious, Anna quietly unlatched the window and pushed it open. A breeze carrying the scent of jasmine blew through the opening and encircled Anna, bringing a small smile of recognition to her lips. The closer the shadowy form got, the larger it grew until it landed on the ledge just beyond her open window.

Quietly opening the window wider, she allowed the strange creature to enter. A breath of air escaped her as the creature leaped into her chest. It was rather large in size for a flying creature and was covering in downy reddish-brown moss. Composed of elements of trees and shrubs, it was a flying fox. A bat with the face of a cute fox kit, it was Anna's favorite animal that she had ever encountered.

Conscious of the sleeping people being close by, she spoke out in whispers.

"Hey, little guy. How was your flight?" Of course she didn't expect a spoken answer, but the cuddle the bat gave to Anna made a warmth grow in her heart. Looking into the small, glowing eyes, she knew that the creature was truly happy. No creation of Anna's had ever been so far away from her before, and both felt relief from the reunion.

The embrace was long and sweet, but Anna had to know.

"Todd, did you find it?" Again this was a whisper, but the acute ears had no problems in deciphering the words. Pointing with its snout, Anna's head turned to the window to see the previously unnoticed book. Anna shifted the foxlike bat to cling onto her back and with her arms free, she brought the leather-bounded book inside.

"You are truly a dear. Thank you, Todd." She reached behind her back to scratch the mossy fox behind its ears. Its glowing eyes closed in contentment at the soft touch.

Moving quietly to the chair next to the bed, she carefully overstep Marshmallow's long tail and an outstretched paw. She sat down gently as to not crush her friend between her back and the chair. Though the twinge of guilt nudge against her heart, she brushed it away.

She respected the dead. She always had and always will. She allowed every corpse a place in the ground to rest because she knew and respected death as the great equalizer among mankind.

But this can't stand. Agars hid something important from everyone, even his own father. Well, you little stinker, let's see what secrets Agars held.

Unlatching and opening the journal, she began from the earliest entries of the late prince to the very end. It took a while since the prince had nearly filled every page, but she was a fast reader. The sun rose and the clouds parted as minutes turned to hours. She didn't stop reading the tale of bright beginnings, to harsh troubles from the kingdom of Weselton, to crippling debt, and the amounting depression covered by a stunning façade. All of this occurring from the mistakes of youth and the greed of the powerful which rendered a man of the future into weakness.

A snap of paper hitting paper was the only indication of Anna finishing the tale of Prince Agars. A heavy sign made the dosing fox on her back perk its ears up. He sense his creator's sudden weariness in her hunched over stance and her hanging head. On instinct, he sought to comfort her. Crawling into her lap, he stretched up to lick a freckled cheek. Without looking, Anna's hands allowed the book to fall to the floor and her arms wrapped around Todd. Todd, in turn, wrapped his wings around her in comfort.

They stayed in the position for a while before a small voice came from Anna.

"Politics suck." She sighed heavily. "I should have never done this."

Todd could only reply with a lick and a gentle snuggle. Anna's arms tightened. They relapsed into silence. With the room incased in the glow of the morning sun, Anna wasn't too surprised as something disturbed the silence again.

A yawn that had sounded from next to her made her head rise from the mossy coat of the comforting fox. She remained silent as Olaf rose from the nest of blankets and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Lightly smacking his lips together, he turned his sleep-blurred gaze onto Anna. And immediately, the sleep left his eyes as excitement filled the youthful gaze.

"Anna!" He shouted loud enough to wake the sleeping queen next to him. But before Anna could speak, a flying ball of eight-year-old energy barreled to her. Poor Todd had just enough time to crawl away from the impending child-cannon, leaving Anna with the brunt of the hit. Lithe arms and legs wrapped around Anna as tightly as ivy vines.

A true smile beamed from her as she reciprocated the hug as best as she could.

"And good morning to you, too, Olaf." Impossibly, her smile widened as the sapphire eyes looked into her own.

"I glad you stayed with us. Now, we can have breakfast and play later. I like having krumkake for breakfast, but Elsa only lets that happen on my birthday. But Chef Tiana is really good at making breakfast. And then we have to find Marshmallow. I guess he's still sleeping, but he'll wake up soon. And-"

"Olaf."

"Yes?"

"Slow down, okay? We have plenty of time to do all of that and more." Anna felt warm at the truth of that sentence. They truly had more than enough time. She continued on. "And Marshmallow is right there."

She pointed to the lump of snowy limbs that stretched itself out across the floor. Anna knew from yesterday's battle that the snow beast could grow much larger than the room he was currently in. Even at a much smaller size, his presence made the room seem smaller and cozier. Barely a second past before the tight restraints of Olaf's limbs had fallen off, and Olaf was launching himself onto the still sleepy snow beast.

With the young boy preoccupied, Anna was able to look at the young boy's older sister. Her Majesty wasn't looking back at her. She seemed panicky as her eyes were locked on the tourniquets still on her.

"Queen Elsa." Anna let her hands fall on the Queen's arm. Icy blue eyes flickered to meet her own. "Those are for your injuries. They're mostly heavy bruising and slight dislocation of some of the joints. But you should be… um…"

Those eyes pinned Anna on the spot. She didn't seem to be able to do anything but stare back. She would have been staring for far longer if the white-blond woman hadn't spoken so soon.

"Should be what, exactly?"

"Oh," She tried to control her stuttering, "um, you should be… as good as new. I mean, the bruises look bad, but with the bandages on, they should be gone within the week."

Anna saw the icy eyes flicker around the room.

"You were the one I woke up to last night."

Though more of a statement, Anna still answered.

"Yes, I am. How do you feel?"

"Sore and still tired." A pause. "How did I get here? What happened?"

Anna breathed out slowly. She knew that she had to have this talk to the Queen, but for some reason, she was reluctant. There was the chance that the bedridden Queen wouldn't believe a single word she said. Anna hated being seen as someone untrustworthy and shady. But she had a plan for that.

This is going to be one hell of a long talk. Oh, well. Let's get this over with.

With a nod to the resting Queen, Anna called out to wrestling duo on the ground.

"Hey, Marshmallow, Olaf." One set of sapphire eyes and one set of hollow shadows looked at her. "I think we got to do another story session."

At the word 'story', Olaf's eyes lit up. And with a shout of joy, he leaped on the bed and sat next to his sister. Marshmallow merely sat up from where he had laid down. To Anna, it looked like the Queen was trying her best to hide her confusion, but Anna had years of experience with facades of people. But, she didn't dare say anything.

Taking at seat at the bedside chair, Anna prepared herself for the immediate storytelling. But before Anna could start, Olaf interrupted her.

"Hey, Anna? Who's your friend?" Todd, who had been clinging to the back of the chair, was now crawling into Anna's lap again.

"Well, he's going to be part of the story. But, his name is Todd."

"Hi, Todd!" Olaf said with a wave. Todd replied with a winged wave of his own.

The Queen looked openly shocked at the fox-faced flora bat, while Marshmallow looked curious. But Anna had to remind herself that they had a story to be told. The Queen deserved that much from the trouble Anna had cause.

Another deep inhale.

"Alright, let's start from the beginning."


AN: Oh…My… Gosh! Todd looks so damn cute in my head. If any don't know, Todd is the fox in the Disney movie 'The Fox and The Hound.' *sighs* Sadly, I couldn't put Copper in with his best friend. I tried but couldn't. But this Todd is a fruit bat, and they really do look like flying foxes.

And may King Magnus rest in peace. The explanation on 'how' he died will be explained in the next chapter. It's a weird plant fact I found and with Anna's power, it would certainly kill a man. Oh and his horse, Plomme, actually translate to plum in Norwegian. If Hans's horse is named after a lemon then by golly, I named Magnus's mare after the plum.

But I finally got this up, and I'm making sure not to fall behind again. That will be easy since this is kind of ending. I'll probably put 3 more chapters and an epilogue. Just have to iron out the last few mysteries and that's it. But yeah, I'll keep the schedule steady for you all.

And remember: comments, concerns, and informed critiques are always welcomed. So, until next time, Au revoir.