Author's Note:
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Kjellsson watched his force march into another town, this one larger than the previous ones. It sat at the base of the mountain terrain that separated the south of Arendelle from its capital. It was the last city in his way before he marched on the Queen. Of course, his generals and scouts estimated that it would take another two weeks to successfully navigate the Arendelle Mountain Range, and then another few days to set up a respectable camp. The capital city was his goal though, it was where he was going to ruin the Ice Queen, in front of her capital and her civilians.
He wasn't, however, riding at the front of his invading force as a triumphant leader. He had been too close to too many of the exploding towns in the offensive. There had been no actual military engagements yet, but there had been plenty of death thanks for the Witch's scorched earth policy. He had to give credit where credit was due—the Queens (or her advising general's) tactics so far were brilliant. She was eliminating a significant number of troops while terrorizing the rest. But he would never admit his respect out loud.
A commotion in the center of the town brought Kjellsson out of his head. He steered his horse back and away from the town a few paces, readying himself for the inevitable explosion. Instead, his soldiers roughly hauled a man out of a main street storefront. The man struggled against his captors until they shoved him to his knees in front of the Ambassador.
"Well. What on earth is this?" Kjellsson questioned, "You stayed in the village, voluntarily?"
The man stared at the ground, silent. Kjellsson nodded to the soldiers, who proceeded to beat the man. He hunched over, protecting his chest and torso, but reacted in no other way.
"Who are you?" Kjellsson continued, "You don't look like a soldier."
The prisoner chortled, "So you're not as dumb as you look."
Kjellsson glared, "Being smart isn't going to save you. Neither is being silent, so you may as well speak up."
"If I am going to die, you think I should tell you anything that I know?" he paused before finally making eye contact with Kjellsson with a mad grin on his face—and spit at the Ambassador.
Kjellsson stumbled back, his expression a mix of repulsion and fury. With an inarticulate grunt, Kjellsson outstretched his arm and cupped his hand. The prisoner rose from his knees not of his own accord, clawing at the invisible hand clamping around his neck. Kjellsson leered at the man, his lips warped into a malicious sneer. He clenched his hand, is prisoner suddenly not able to breath at all, his eyes wide with terror. Kjell finally moved forward until he was centimeters away from the man's face.
"Any last words?" he hissed.
With bulging eyes the prisoner wheezed, "Long. Live. My. Queen."
Kjellsson turned his hand so his palm was parallel to the ground sliced it to his side. The prisoner's neck snapped back and his body lurched to the right and then went limp, the life escaping. Kjellsson nonchalantly flicked his hand and sent the body flying away.
The two soldiers stared at him, shocked at the unexpected display of magic.
"Such a shame that we didn't learn a damn thing, isn't it?" Kjellsson brushed his hands together, ignoring the stunned silence of his soldiers.
"What are you looking at?" he snapped suddenly, "Go back to the village. Do your job."
The soldiers scampered away, leaving Kjellsson on the hill to flex his fingers. He hadn't used his magic like that in a long time. It was exhilarating. He could feel it pulse through his veins, strengthening him with every beat of his heart. And Kjellsson couldn't wait to strike fear in the hearts of the Witch's soldiers with his invisible magic.
Elsa sat in her private tea room off of her office, leaning on her elbow against the small table. It was a Friday afternoon, and Elsa was dining alone, though her evening meal was left largely untouched.
Her guard had been out, scouring the Kenton Forest on the Arendelle side of the border, and there was no sign of Anna or Kristoff. There was a relay of volunteer foot soldiers constantly bringing information (or the same information, Elsa had discovered) into her. After 3 days of no new news, Elsa gave Ingvar the job of taking the information from the relay. Every time they came in, Elsa made herself scarce.
Ingvar found her staring at the floor, twisting a single large snowflake in her palm. His heart ached for her, and he wanted to alleviate the limbo she was stuck in. He understood what it felt like to be the last to know.
"Your Majesty?" He knocked on the wood of the false bookshelf softly, stepping into the dimly lit room.
"I don't want to know that there is nothing to know," she grumbled, not looking up.
"Well, that's all well and good your Majesty, but I actually came to gather you for a meeting with the generals."
Elsa rolled her eyes up to look at him, doubt clouding them.
"Come on, my Grace, you're still the Queen of a country at war. You've got to prepare for the war."
"What I need is for my sister to come home safely," she sighed, pulling her body up and out of the chair. She reached over and picked up the gloves draped over the back of the other chair, pulling them on.
Ingvar eyed her suspiciously.
She glanced up again at him, "I'm rather volatile right now." She stepped around him and through her office, Ingvar falling into step behind her easily.
The council room was already full, Elsa and Ingvar's seats the only ones left unoccupied. Once they sat down, Master General Kay stood to open the meeting.
"Hello, everyone, and thank you for attending. We have a couple of issues to address. But I want to start with the most obvious one, and one that has been on the minds of all of us since Princess Anna's disappearance. What are we going to do with all of these refugees? We can't send them back to their homes, because we've burned them. We can't send them to Kenton because we've apparently burnt that too. They can't all stay in Arendelle, there are just too many of them. What are we going to do?"
All the men looked at Elsa. It was her idea to evacuate them in the first place. Now she had to come up with a plan B.
"I want to see what Kenton's next move is," Elsa started slowly, "If they're not going to join the Coalition, then we should be able to send them north. I will lobby some of the noble families to open up their estates. We can set up shanty towns as well. Send a column or two of soldiers to protect them. Of course, Kenton can't be a threat. Until that can be determined, we will funnel them through Arendelle. I will muster funds to pay innkeepers and any residents who are willing to take in house guests. I could open up the castle as well… but I don't want to have my people think that I am playing favorites over who gets to stay in the castle, so I think I will keep that option closed until absolutely necessary."
There was a rumble of agreement through the room.
"That seems like a safe plan. Let's implement that until further notice. Another concern has recently been brought to our attention. Kjellsson's force has been spotted entering the Arendelle Mountain Range. Before that, he stopped to ransack Iyesgarth. Unfortunately, this time he was able to find one of the civilian spies we had been working closely with. After questioning our comrade, and hopefully not getting any answers out of him, the Ambassador murdered our spy."
Elsa flinched back, a hiss escaping her lips.
"But he did it without ever touching our spy. All reports point that he did it using magic."
It seemed like the air got sucked out of the room. Elsa felt her head start to spin and her hands turn to ice under her gloves.
"Magic?" she breathed, "What kind of magic?"
Master Kay shook his head as if he didn't believe the report in front of him, "He seems to be able to manipulate the air immediately surrounding his victims. It is, limited, but effective."
"There are other magic makers?" Elsa whispered.
"They are rare, your Majesty," Kay assured her, "And none are as mighty as you."
"If that is true, then I want to be able to fight," she said clearly, looking out over all the generals, "I want to be allowed to fight with the army."
There was immediately a protest. Even Ingvar turned to look at her, his eyes wide in alarm.
"Your Majesty, you are the keystone of this country, if you were to fall…"
"I won't," she said simply, crossing her arms, "It's us against the world. Obviously we're not going to ally with Kenton anymore. You need my power to even make a dent in their forces."
"The scorched earth policy is already doing that," Kay argued back, "There is no reason for you to constantly be out there fighting."
Elsa shook her head, "It's not that big of a dent." She huffed looking at all of the men staring back at her. "I can do more damage with my pinky finger than 100 soldiers. I am the most valuable weapon that you have, and you would be fools to not use me, not to let me fight."
Silence stretched on as the men shuffled their papers, not willing to agree with her. Ingvar finally spoke up.
"I'll protect her," he said, "I'll collect an elite force and we will tag with the Queen. Less of a chance of her being overwhelmed that way."
Elsa squinted her eyes at him, "I can't ask you to do that, General."
"You're not asking, your Majesty," he said, turning to face her, "I'm offering."
"I would feel more comfortable if you had assistance out there, Queen Elsa," Kay said, "And if General Rolf wants to do that, then I think that is something we can agree on."
Elsa nodded slowly, relenting, "I could agree to that concession," she glanced up at Ingvar, "Just don't hold me back."
He smirked at her, "Wouldn't dream of it, your Majesty."
The other generals in the room watched their exchange with smug expressions. There was definitely a look between them now, an understanding that everyone else could feel, but the Queen and the General were clearly unaware of. Or simply ignoring.