Chapter IV

The wolf's teeth

Elsa glowed. She had changed, and yet she was the same. Each time Anna saw her, her heart ached. The white dress, her big, round eyes shining with determination; her light was blinding.

She didn't come back with her. She stayed in Northuldra, keeping the balance on the enchanted forest. Anna was happy for her. Even if she was now alone.

Her coronation happened just a few weeks after Elsa abdicated. The council had been surprised, but they didn't object. The people on the Capital had seemed happy, celebrating as Anna the First, Queen of Arendelle, took the crown.

Elsa visited, of course. Occasionally. And the Queen heart ached, a little bit more each time. Anna didn't say it, and Elsa didn't ask. She missed her, so much. The castle seemed such a big, lonely place now that her sister was gone.

She tried to convince herself it was for the better. Elsa was happy, taking care of the forest. How could she blame her? She had found her place.

That place was far away, far away from her.

Most of the time she could endure it; the void she carried inside her chest. Her new duties kept her occupied, since she didn't have help most of the days. She took her meals alone. She slept alone, woke up alone. Suitors began to flood, visitors from many of the neighboring countries: Princess and Dukes, Counts and many other members of the nobility. Each one seeking something different, all of them seeing right through her. They didn't see Anna: they just saw a young, maiden Queen. Eventually, she shut them all out.

It was pointless. What could they offer Elsa couldn't give her?

Even if she didn't anymore.

With each of Elsa's visits, something had begun to change. There was a sort of tension, the feeling of dangerous words hanging between them.

She had caught wind of it in the stolen glances, so heavy they made her skin crawl. Elsa's eyes were loaded with guilt, loaded with expectation, loaded with a hidden meaning that made Anna's breath fail.

It took her years, perhaps too many, for her to understand. Flowers had been blooming in her heart's shadow. As the days grew dull, they grew stronger, until they had transformed into a garden of confusing, maddening desires. She could feel its thorns surface when she saw Elsa ride into town, at night, atop Nokk.

Eventually, she had had to make peace with it, the lone whispers of her heart, or otherwise they would drive her mad. She heard them clearly on her sleepless nights. Dreams followed, filled with warmth and the promise of trembling touches and moaned confessions.

It scared her, the strength those visions had. They haunted her.

Her heart ached, and that realization shattered her world.

-ooo-

Anna's cape flapped behind her, and she held a white-knuckled grasp on the reins. Even if her armor was lighter than most, she could still feel its weight around her shoulders and chest.

Dawn had begun. The horizon had begun to light up a few minutes ago: long streaks of warm red and pink rose from the edge of the mountains, barely touching the top of the tallest pines.

They rode without pause, passing many small towns and trading posts along the way. Anna had to contain herself from spurring her mare forward. Her stallion huffed and gasped, its breath more labored by the minute. Captain Garmond had advised for a two-hour break before, but Anna had halved that time. It was a risk, but she knew that every minute they stayed put could mean dozens of her citizens dead.

The road ahead was beginning to become crowded. The Queen saw wagons full of furniture, pulled by donkeys or horses, and a trail of people following them, most of them with clothes dirtied in mud or blood.

Her chest warmed at the relief their fear-stricken faces showed when they saw them. She wished she could've stopped, but she rode on instead: every instant could prove precious.

Long streaks of smoke were now visible as they entered the northern-most part of the valley, and she heard the faint echoes of distant screams. The Captain closed in. He lifted a hand, and the group slowed down. Anna rose an eyebrow questioningly.

"We're close, your Majesty." He explained. "But it is all-advised to just charge forward. We need to plan how to engage them."

"Right," answered the Queen, reining her mare to a light stroll. "What do you propose?"

Captain Garmond called two of his sergeants forward.

"By those sounds, it seems they have arrived at Lirendelle already," he said, looking over the road. Anna could vaguely make the town from their position. She nodded, allowing the Captain to carry on.

"I suggest we divide our group into two. The first one," he signaled a dozen guards, "will be our vanguard. The other it's going to divide, half on each wing, and cover us as we advance. And yes, your Majesty, you'll be on the vanguard, with me." He said with a half-smile.

Anna closed her mouth, her protest dead on its track. "Keep to the group, your Grace. Do not get separated. We're strongest together." He warned.

"Alright. Let's do this." She complied, spurring forward. Her guards divided as ordered, covering the flanks.

When the town finally came into clear view, the Captain donned his winged helmet, followed by the Guards and the Queen herself.

Anna's heart spun at the sight. Lirendelle was the biggest town on the northern region, its garrison the strongest they had too, at least two hundred strong. If the raiders were already inside, it meant the defenses had been overrun in a matter of hours.

The town could not fall: if it did, the enemy's armies could march directly into her Capital.

The little dots she had seen from the road were many of the garrison's men, some fighting, others retreating from the raiders. Her soldiers wore green and violet – Arendelle's colors –, differencing them from the Hanians, all clad in browns and greys. Mixed in the fighting she saw some peasants too, wielding pitchforks and hunting knifes. On the roadsides, women and children fled, their faces contorted in fear.

Most of the defenders were split into little groups, each one trying to fend off their attackers. Closest to the road a tiny one of those groups was being assaulted as they tried to protect the fleeting townsfolk.

Anna gritted her teeth, spurring her mount, followed closely by her guards. She drew her sword. Now up close, she saw the raiders wore furs all over their torso, with mismatched pieces of rusty armor here and there. The assailants looked up too late, their eyes widening in surprise. The Captain's horse slammed against one of the men, her own mount doing the same. One of the raiders raised his axe as he stumbled out of the way, but Anna's sword was quicker. She struck on an arc, plunging the blade cleanly through the exposed neck. Her attack barely found resistance: the man collapsed in stunned silence. The fight lasted all of a few seconds, and only after her guards mopped out the rest did Anna stop to think.

I just killed a man, she thought dazedly. A dulled, confused part of her managed to register the fact. She had rushed in aid of her people, and she had just killed a man. She glanced down as an strange numbness took hold of her. The raider she had struck lay in a pool of dark blood, his hands limp around his red-tainted neck. His eyes looked up almost accusingly, and she felt her stomach turn.

It had been surprisingly easy, and that was what scared her the most.

"Your Majesty!" Garmond's voice seemed faded. "Your Majesty, are you alright?" He leaned in, looking worriedly at her with his green eyes. She nodded once, looking around. Her guards were engaging the raiders that had managed to reach the end of the town, killing or repelling most of them, relieving her soldiers.

As her guards worked through the flanks, the surviving soldiers approached. Many of the townsfolk did as well, relief and hope replacing their previous terror.

I do it for them, she reminded herself. Ever since the beginning of this war, a part of her knew this was inevitable. She had made her decision, and now she had to carry on with it. Still, she felt sick.

"Thank you, your Majesty." A middle-age woman said. She held in her arms a bundle of cloths, with a tiny, pink face peeking through it. Anna smiled back feebly.

"Who is in charge here?" asked Captain Garmond.

A thin, frail looking pikeman stepped forward. "Lieutenant Farris, sir. I haven't seen him since they broke through the palisade. He ordered us to keep the people inside safe."

He looks so young, Anna thought sadly, as she looked at the scared teenager, whose surcoat seemed just a little bit too big for him.

"And the rest of the garrison?" The Captain asked.

"They said to gather on the main plaza, sir, should the walls fall." The soldier answered, pointing to the main street. "We got scattered, and they followed us all the way here."

Anna called the men around her firmly, raising her voice above the distant mayhem. Her guards gathered around her expectantly.

"We go and help them," Anna said simply, "until Lord Jarwood arrives. We hold them off and draw them to us. The rest of you who can still fight," she ordered, looking at the men of the garrison, "come with us. The rest, help whomever you can."

She looked at the Captain, who nodded his agreement.

Across the town, she could still hear both screams of wild victory and of painful agony. A group of raiders flooded the street from the side streets when they saw them come. They rushed forward, axes and swords in hand. Some of them carried bows as well, drawing them in a hurry.

Anna's eyebrows furrowed. She tightened the grip on her sword. She could not forget: those men had come to kill and pillage her kingdom. Her people. She pointed with her sword towards the raiders.

Her retinue galloped forward, meeting the Hanians on the middle of the street. This time, her enemies were prepared. A petty volley of arrows flew, most of them hitting the horses' armor.

She lifted her blade, striking down. The closest raider blocked her attack, but Anna kept hacking at her foe, forcing him to defend from the advantage of her superior height. The man fell quickly as one of her guards passed him, slashing his back almost nonchalantly. Anna left him behind, spurring forward to meet another foe.

The raiders soon were overwhelmed and scattered towards the alleys, followed by some of her infantry. Her cavalry rode on through the ample street, passing many corpses, ally and enemy alike. At the end of the street, she could see some men wearing her colors fleeing.

She raced toward the plaza. "Go back," she yelled, holding her sword high above her head to rally the men. "Come with me! To the plaza!" Her soldiers stopped in their tracks, looking in shock at her before turning around, but one of them kept running. Anna spun her horse, obstructing him.

"Q-queen Anna?" the soldier said in disbelief. His right arm hung awkwardly on its side, with dirt and blood staining his clothes.

"What's happening?" she demanded.

The soldier shook his head. "They're coming. They ate Igirr. They're coming."

Anna furrowed her brow in confusion. Ate? Has he gone mad?

"Your Majesty, you don't understand…" urged the soldier, his eyes so terrified they looked about to pop out of his orbits.

She left him, hurrying her group to the middle of the plaza. Some of the soldiers – most of them sporting injuries – had gathered around the central fountain. On the other end, she saw a cluster of soldiers, most likely the bulk of the defenders, fighting and yelling loudly.

"Where is Lieutenant Farris?" she cried. The men all shook their heads gloomily.

From the other side of the plaza, the screaming intensified.

"My Queen!" called Captain Garmond. She turned, ready to order the advance, but her words died inside her throat. The soldiers' line broke, showing her the reason behind all the crying and yelling.

She saw wolfhounds. Wild, enormous beasts, with muzzles covered in blood. For a brief, strange moment, she felt as if she was inside a feverish, fantastical dream. The monsters had saddles, and the fiercest looking Hanians rode them, driving them ahead with lashes or cries. Behind them, a horde of tribesmen followed, many of them carrying around severed heads knotted around their hips.

In an instant, the wolf-riders were upon them, a rushing haze of blackness. Anna tried to react and pull back, but her horse trashed around wildly, its eyes looking around madly. She tried vainly to rein him, but the panicking horse didn't respond: he riled and bucked until he fumbled against one of the corpses. In an instant, her vision turned to one side as she flew out of her saddle.

The impact left her breathless. She gasped, pain shooting up her left arm and shoulder were she landed against the hard cobblestones. Slowly, she pulled herself up, groaning. The whole left side of her body was numb and hot, and she idly noted she could feel the cold air of the morning against her tangled hair and wet forehead.

Around her, most of the horses had gone wild too, forcing her guards to dismount. The animals sprinted on the opposite direction, most of them scared witless because of the wolf pack. Her soldiers gathered around the fountain – around her as well – and began to try to repel the assailants.

This fighting wasn't anything like her training. It was brutal and unforgiving, in a way that made her feel like a naïve, dumb child. What had she expected? Her mind had conjured this idea of honorable fighting, but the men – allied and enemy alike – fought wildly, slashing and thrusting without pause. To her left, one of her guards had been overwhelmed. Before anyone could help him, two of the raiders had plunged their axes on the man's chest, a third taking his head in a single blow. The barbarians cheered, raising their weapons into the air.

She ran without thinking, followed by Captain Garmond and another one of her guards. She felt a raging fire burst inside her veins, fueling her. The raiders charged forward as well, screaming in their foreign tongue, their mouths showing windowed rows of yellowed teeth.

The first strike rattled her whole body. She almost lost her blade, and the raider's next blow may have killed if not for the Captain's sword intercepting the attack. She dodged another swing before she countered, imprinting each movement with as much force as she could, unaware of her own raging screams. After a barrage of desperate attacks, one managed to open the man's guard.

There! She thought franticly. Using the momentum of her last strike, she swung horizontally on the counter-move, slashing through the man's belly. The Hanian collapsed on his knees, clumping at her foot. Anna didn't linger on it this time. She had turned to help her other guard, when a black figure emerged on the left corner of her vision.

It was one of the wolves. The beast jumped, growling savagely as its head closed against Garmond, whom had just unstuck his sword from his opponent's corpse. Anna screamed a warning, cold fear washing through her. The Captain turned as the animal's teeth sunk around his left arm; its rider swung his axe at the same time, aiming at his head.

The young man yelled as the beast pulled.

Anna saw, terrified, the descent of the rider's weapon. Her Captain twisted his body, ducking and narrowly avoiding the attack; at the same time, he struck the beast on the neck, burying his weapon so deep only the pommel was visible. The wolf let out a hair-curling howl, releasing its victim as it stumbled and fell, taking the rider with him. The bearded tribesman tried to crawl out of the beast's massive body, but her guard was faster, striking him down with a clean, short thrust of his blade.

Anna released the breath she had been holding the whole time. Captain Garmond looked back at her with a fragile smirk, his right hand grabbing his injured arm. She could see the little beads of blood dropping from his limb.

She stepped towards him right as another fur-covered Hanian pushed his way forward from the chaos around, lifting his spear over the man's back.

This time, Anna's warning was pointless. The spear plunged into his back, its tip piercing in the middle of the Captain's breastplate, in the place where his heart was. He fell on his knees, mimicking the man she had killed just a minute ago. His mouth gurgled some voiceless words as the grinning raider pulled on his weapon, freeing it from the man's corpse to face the raging attacks of one of the other guards nearby.

She stood still, glaring at the Captain's lifeless form. His eyes were open, staring blankly at her. She felt bile rise in her throat, her legs suddenly weak.

"Your Grace!"

Anna turned a split second too late. An injured tribesman had managed to push his way towards her. He was a burly man with a long face, framed with a thick, braided beard. The scariest part, however, was his blood-shot glare: never in her life had she seen eyes so full of hatred.

A memory stood out from the several incoherent thoughts that flashed through her mind: the man's eyes reminded her of a rabid dog she had seen once, barking wildly before its owners managed to pull him back.

Before she could process what was happening the man closed the distance. One of her guards rushed towards her, but Anna knew instinctively he would not reach her in time. The bearded man furiously swung his axe at her, aiming at the left side of her head. Her body reacted on its own: she raised her sword to intercept the enemy's blade. The weapons met with a sonorous clang, but the man's blow had been too strong for her to deflect completely.

Pain shot from her cheek. She screamed, stumbling backwards until she fell. The axe's edge had grazed her on its way up, missing her neck by inches. The man jumped forward, lifting his weapon while letting out a rough battle cry.

Her hand shot forward in one swift motion, and her sword plunged deep into the man's belly. She barely noticed it. Everything around was blurry and shaky. Her ears rang loudly, making the chaos around seem muted. The man's face had transformed, his eyes opened wide in disbelief, like he had just seen some sort of unspeakable apparition.

In her muddled mind, she noticed how the man snarled in a final act of defiance. He lifted his left hand, as if trying to grab her, before falling to his side, taking Anna's weapon from her weakened grip.

Her remaining strength left her. She couldn't think straight. Her whole body was shaking, and her raging pulse thumped on her ears. She crawled back on her elbows, away from the man's corpse.

One of her guards knelt beside her. He grabbed her unceremoniously by her armpits and lifted her roughly. Anna blinked hard, slowly focusing on the man's face. There were some bleeding cuts on his skin and he had lost his helmet. His mouth moved, but she had to make an effort to understand his words. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the rest of her guards keeping the fur-covered raiders at bay. One, however, stepped inside one of the wolf's reach, and the beast bit his arm, dragging him towards its brethren. Anna felt chills as the man screamed in pure agony.

Her soldiers had formed a defensive circle. Only two of her guards remained mounted, serving as anchors for the rest of the infantry. Most of them wielded raised pikes, trying to keep the beasts at bay, while others fought hand to hand on the flanks, many falling on each side. With each one of her loses, the circle cramped a little bit, her forces slowly losing ground: the tribesmen were pushing them against one of the buildings on the plaza's edge.

They had surrounded them.

It was only a matter of time, she grasped, startled, before they would overwhelm their dwindling numbers. Her guards had formed a cluster around her, flanked by the remaining infantrymen. Amongst their enemies, she could see many of them smiling wickedly at their force, screaming and laughing roughly as they pushed forward.

Anna took one of the fallen swords, entering her stance. She wasn't going down without a fight.

I'm sorry, Elsa, she thought idly, swirling her sword on her hand. I just wished I could've seen you one more time.

The raiders pushed forward, slashing towards her. They seemed to have recognized her, somehow; or perhaps she naturally stood out: a young girl, fighting in the middle of seasoned warriors. A beautiful price for them to take.

Rage built up inside her chest once again. She raised her sword, ready to make them pay dearly for her life.

I have so much to tell you.

Then, like a deafening thunder, a loud, drawn-out sound pierced the noise of battle. It was the call of a horn, resonating loudly across the town. The blares repeated twice, each one stronger than the last.

Anna recognized it instantly. It was the custom signal for Arendelle's army.

Lord Jarwood, Anna thought shakily.

The Hanians, who had been fearless till that point, looked around nervously. Their chiefs, the wolf-riders, started to bark orders, motioning their mounts and soldiers to retreat. Anna looked back through the street from where she had arrived. She could see in the distance the Arendelle flag waving proudly in the middle of dozens of cavalry galloping directly towards the plaza.

Some of her soldiers stopped and cheered, but most of them ran after the fleeing raiders, throwing spears and even swords at their backs.

She glanced at her guards, now gathered around her.

A hard lump knotted on her throat as she counted how many remained: only ten from the two dozen she had brought with her.

-ooo-

"It seems we arrived in the nick of time, your Grace," said Lord Jarwood, looking down at her from his horse. He dismounted, bowing to her.

Anna sat on the plaza's fountain, glancing around. Some of her soldiers, aided by many townsfolk, were dragging the corpses of the fallen off Lirendelle's plaza. From what she had heard, however, the thick of the fighting had happened on the palisade outside the town.

"Yes, Lord Jarwood. I'll not forget it. I owe you my life." She answered dryly.

A self-satisfied smile pulled at his round features.

"Nonsense, your Grace." The man said, bowing again. Before he remounted, he wiped the sweat of his forehead with a handkerchief. "I just followed my orders, that's all." He declared before riding off.

The sun shone brightly above, making the redhead sweat inside her armor.

The heat had raised a lingering, foul smell that made her gag if she breathed too deeply. Across the open space, she could see the bodies of her guards being dragged away towards an open cart. Their heavy armor made them easy to identify among countless other dead, many Hanians, but mostly Arendellian. As per tradition, the body of a guard fallen in duty would be buried on the Order's crypt, located in a cemetery on the Capital's outskirts.

She had accompanied her father once to a ceremony or the Order, a guard who died on the line of duty. It had been an attack on the Royal caravan, a group of bandits who had thought to rob their King. They had all been killed or arrested, but one of them had managed to slay one of her father's guards. Even on such a grim occasion, the guard's full armor awed her, as they stood still at the casket's side.

Only at her parent's funeral she had seen them again, displaying their gala uniform. In a couple of weeks, she would have to preside the ceremony.

How many of those would happen, before this all ended? What if Elsa had to do it, see her own lifeless body be dropped down into the earth? That was, of course, if she returned…

She sighed, chasing those thoughts away.

Believe, she reminded herself. Matthias was close.

Now that the fighting had ended, her limbs felt heavy and coarse. Her whole body seemed to throb and hurt, and a vicious headache pounded at her temples. She wanted nothing more but to fall sleep on her soft, plump bed back on the castle, but the idea felt wrong, even spoiled. She had just survived. For the time being, that should be reward enough.

One of her guards stood at her side in a martial pose. The rest had gone to help secure the city's boundaries, should the Hanians decide to attack once more.

"What's your name?" Anna asked idly, trying to distract herself from the bodies all around. He was the guard that had lifted her after Captain Garmond's death. He had a strong build, very similar to that of Lord Grenn, but his hair was still fully black, even if cut short as martial pose demanded.

"I'm Sergeant Yudris, your Majesty," he replied. "Son of Yudrig, a former Knight for your father."

"Thank you, Yudris," Anna said, playing with the hem of Elsa's scarf. "You saved my life today, more times that I can count. All of you did."

His face didn't change.

"We live to serve, your Grace." He answered solemnly. He turned, glancing away.

Anna's heart felt heavy. She didn't deserve this kind of sacrifice. Just today, how many men and women had died because of her?

How did things get so screwed up? She thought sadly. Before, she had blamed herself, but now she saw things more clearly. She hadn't ask for this.

She hadn't asked for the Usurper to throw his armies at her little kingdom, nor for his coup in Corona. The bloodshed he had caused… she wouldn't forget. For now, this was what she could do: to keep her people alive and safe, for as long as humanly possible.

A few women ran around the plaza, some helping to clean up the field of battle and others offering some soup and bread to the soldiers. A pair of them approached her with their heads looking down, their hands carrying some bowls. Because of the resemblance, she guessed they were mother and daughter.

"Your Majesty," the older woman, wearing a dirty apron, said. "May we offer some stew? It's not much, but…" she trailed off, embarrassed.

Anna smiled at them, trying to hide her gloomy thoughts.

"I'd like that. Thank you." She answered honestly.

The woman nodded shyly, leaving the steaming bowl on the fountain's edge. The younger girl, lean with copper hair breaded in twin braids – like Anna used to do – approached as well, leaving another bowl of sparkling water.

"Here, your Grace," she said, handing her a piece of cloth. Anna lifted an eyebrow. "For your injuries, your Grace." The girl explained, pointing timidly to her cheek.

"Right!" she replied, taking the piece of cloth. "Thanks." Both women bowed deeply before leaving her alone. She loosened the leather clasps that held the steel plates of her neck plate, exhaling contently as the armor fell.

The gash the raider's blade had opened on her cheek was not very deep, but it stung every time she touched around it. When she leaned on the bowl of clean water, her own reflection surprised her. Wide, teal eyes stared back at her, her queenly hairdo undone on many places, half her face covered in dried blood. It ran all the way to her neck, where the trail faded into a piece of sky-blue fabric.

Elsa's scarf was dirty with her own blood: contrasting against the soft fabric were several violet-ish stains.

What would she think, seeing her like this? She probably would've tried to talk some sense into me, she thought. After a serious scolding. The thought almost made her smile.

She cleaned most of her face, trying not to move too quickly.

After finishing, she looked up to the clear skies, wishing she could go to sleep. To rest her battered body, and wake up to find out this whole war had been just an ugly, terrible nightmare.

-ooo-

-ooo-

-ooo-

He approached the throne room. Drunken laughter drifted through behind the heavy wooden doors. The guards opened them, and he slipped into the warm room. Jesters ran around its center, and the king's lieutenants and advisors cheered from the sides at the spectacle, shouting and whistling at the fake fighting. It reeked of spiced meats, wine and sweat: not even the perfumed candles could overpower the smell.

The king sat on his tall, grey throne. His young, sharp features were filled with boredom, his head reposing atop his fisted hand.

He stopped just before the first step of the daïs. The king acknowledged his presence, making a hand gesture for him to step closer. The servant did, trying to keep his breath steady. His monarch seemed in a good mood, but he knew from the scars on his back how quickly it could sour. He eyed nervously the back of the room, where a cloaked figure stood still.

"A message, your Grace," he stated, "from the northern front." The king lifted an eyebrow lazily. "The attack was halted on the city of Lirendelle. The Queen rode into battle, the report said."

The king narrowed his eyes.

"The Child Queen?"

The servant nodded nervously. After a few tense seconds, the monarch laughed, followed dutifully by his concubine and the men surrounding him. They all did as their king did.

"Who would've thought," he said mirthfully. "I may have underestimated her." He slapped his thigh, a wide grin surfacing on his neatly shaved face.

He laughed again, the sound fading into the loud noises of his men's cheering and screaming.

-ooo-