An Unexpected Ally
Kristoff cursed himself for allowing a dirtbag like Eddie to get the drop on him. If he hadn't been so intent on saving Anna, he wouldn't have been caught off guard. Still, the fact that he was preoccupied was no excuse. Fool!
"Hurry on up. Her body's still warm and I'se got plans to take a turn at the gates, if you knows what I mean. She's too pretty to pass up, even if she is dead." Eddie snickered, nearly choking on his own humor. When he finally caught his breath, he added, "And I mays even takes a turn at you, although you ain't nearly as pretty."
His coarse laughter reverberated as his footsteps came closer. Kristoff spat on the ground, eyeing the axe Pabbie had gifted him. It lay near his knee, obscured by a broad leaf.
Up until the point that Anna had become entangled in his life, he had kept a low profile. Physical conflict was avoided unless absolutely necessary. He even accepted the occasional beat down when circumstances warranted—all in order to avoid undue notoriety.
He had hoped to start a new life for himself, but Fate, apparently, had other plans.
Still holding Anna in his arms, Kristoff tensed for action. However, an unexpected turn altered his immediate plans. Faint tendrils of mist meandered just above the ground, pooling at his feet. The hair on the nape of his neck bristled. Jötnar?
"What the fuck?" muttered Dirty Eddie, no doubt noticing the creeping tendrils as well.
A subtle motion caught Kristoff's attention; Anna's eyes fluttered, then opened wide. The pupils were unnaturally dilated to the point where her irises seemed to have disappeared. Her nostrils flared, and he felt the mildest of shudders from her. Internally, he registered relief, although his concern was still there—she looked as if she was lost deep in a spectral world. The condensation grew thicker.
He could hear Dirty Eddie approach even closer, no doubt to get a better bearing on him with his railgun, especially in light of the building mist.
The cloudy haze thickened further, slowly spiraling up his legs. Kristoff steadied his breathing, allowing the conditioning from his youth to take over and guide him. Eddie's footfalls placed him at a distance of less than two meters and closing.
A sharp breath from Anna broke the silence. The gathering vapor grew into a heavy fog, thick and damp, enveloping him and his surroundings en masse, as if sparked by a catalyst. Dirty Eddie gasped.
In that instance, years of training took over. Letting Anna silently slip to the ground, Kristoff exploded violently, moving fast, too fast for any normal human being. He hurled himself through gray, obfuscating clouds, knowing instinctively where Eddie stood.
His first task was to eliminate the threat of the railgun. Pivoting on the ball of one foot, he brought his other up against Eddie's arm in a deftly executed crescent kick which caused the weapon to fly from Eddie's grasp, away from its intended target. With a muffled thud, it harmlessly landed somewhere on the ground, hidden by the intense fog.
Kristoff's left hand carried the axe that had been laying on the ground. He screamed the name of the Allfather, "Odin!" with controlled rage as the blade was driven cleanly across Dirty Eddie's throat. The blow was fierce, nearly separating the head from its body in a flourish of blood.
In that instance, Eddie's face registered shock, eyes plainly expressing bewilderment. His body crumpled to the ground as if he were nothing but a mannequin filled with sand. Kristoff struck again at the prone body and watched the head roll away, mouth moving silently until it was shrouded in heavy mist. Blood spewed from the prone body for a second or two, then stopped abruptly.
Wheeling back toward Anna, Kristoff turned only to find that she was lost in the thickset haze. The telltale bellowing of Jötnar heralded danger's approach. Kristoff squelched his emotions as he retraced his steps, moving rapidly, but with vigilant caution, until he could just make out her crown of copper hair.
A single strand of copper-colored hair … The Kaptajnløjnant sat contemplating the results from the DNA scan as the bellicose popinjay before him continued to drone on and on about his recent encounter with the "freckled face of death."
The Duke paced back and forth in his office, his mustache quivering in rhythm with his lips. "And that peasant—don't let her pretty face fool you, I could tell right away she was nothing more than a plebe—had the audacity to audition for a job as a princess! Can you believe it?"
Shaking his head to appease the Duke, DeVos returned to his musing. They had found the hair strand in the cryo-transport acquired from Oaken's. The results from the Grendel's lab, limited as they were, confirmed that this woman lived a life of privilege. DeVos felt no need to enlighten the so-called "Duke." Whatever she was, she was no peasant, that was certain. Prince Hans wouldn't have bothered to send members of his personal guard to dispatch a nobody.
In fact, the results from the scan proved intriguing. It showed that the subject had been routinely taking some exotic drug, which DeVos puzzled over. The analysis onboard the ship wasn't capable of identifying it. What exactly was she taking? Curiously, the hair sample showed that the subject had been off the drug for at least a week.
Meanwhile, the Brimsby character continued to spew his nonsense. The little man strutted like a wounded peacock inside the confines of his garish office, detailing how he had placed a bounty on this Roxanna's head. "And that big blond oaf, too! I want to see them both dead!"
DeVos nodded again. It occurred to him that Weselton Brimsby might just be the tool he was looking for … Call it serendipity. Wouldn't it be unfortunate if this Roxanna was killed by a bounty hunter before my squad could rescue her? It was all he could do to keep from breaking into a grin.
Later, he could file a report that he had warned the Duke to drop the bounty. Naturally, the old man would have an accident before he could be brought to trial.
As he listened further to the details of the Duke's assault, DeVos's mind begin to assemble the clues: Privileged … redhead … outrage over a royal incestuous lesbian pairing … Corona Borealis … Rox-ANNA … His heart nearly stopped. Min Gud! Could it be? In a sudden epiphany, DeVos realized that this woman wasn't just any ordinary woman of means. Prince Hans wanted Anna, Princess of Corona Borealis, dead! Wasn't that his fiancée?
The stakes were much higher than he had realized … Of course, it all makes sense now … or at least partially. No matter, DeVos was determined to carry out the mission, even if it meant his own sacrifice. Every member of Prince Hans' guard was willing to put their lives on the line for him. Like his men, DeVos had sworn an oath and was bound by it.
"Tell me, Mr. Brimsby, where exactly were the criminals last seen?"
"They headed north. My network informs me that their snowcat was en route to the Eternal Vortex, a desperate act. Desperate! They're most likely nothing but frozen mash, but some of those ice harvester types are instinctively wily, even if they're nothing but impossibly dumb brutes. With that red headed vixen at the helm, I wouldn't be surprised if they're still alive." The Duke plopped into his chair, "Ach! My neck!" He massaged the afflicted zone, then turned to DeVos, looking at him with the cunning of a reptile, "but a man like you has the means to find and track a snowcat in the wilderness. I hear there's a sleek Corvette orbiting Arendelle-255 right now. A warship, no doubt, would be loaded with advanced surveillance equipment." Weselton Brimbsy offered a sly grin. "And that information could be leaked to the locals, who, obviously, would be more than eager to deliver the fugitives, dead or alive, back to Arendelle City."
With the last sentence, DeVos, returned the Duke's grin. It was equally reptilian.
Kristoff Bjorgman … Crown Princess Elsa of Corona Borealis sat tensely at the table alongside her father, mulling over her sister's kidnapper's name. "Papa, we need to find Anna. We must find her!"
Light from several narrow, paned windows cast deep shadows over King Agnar. Elsa's father was a handsome man, with hair and mustache the same color as her sister's. He sat pensively, stroking the base of his chin. "I agree, of course. But we don't have many leads. Kristoff Bjorgman is a non-entity as far as our records are concerned, even with the information from our security forces. In fact, I don't even know how Prince Hans determined that this man was instrumental in Anna's kidnapping? The man's nearly a ghost. That, in itself, has me worried."
Elsa's brow furrowed and she could feel the accumulated rage she had been holding in check surge. "I could make a visit to Crux. I've never met Prince Hans personally."
"God, no, Snowflake. We don't want to start an intergalactic incident. If the prince is hiding something … Well, we both know your capabilities."
"I can keep myself in check."
"Not when it comes to Anna. You know it's true."
"Papa, we have no choice. If there's any information that's being withheld, I'll find it soon enough. I promise I won't do anything rash."
King Agnar eyed his daughter carefully, and acknowledged her sentiment with a nod. "Alright."
"I'll need a company of Marines," she added.
"What? Why?"
"As soon as I'm done interviewing the prince. I'll be headed to Arendelle-255. This Bjorgman fellow will pay dearly if he so much as harms a hair of our Anna's head. Also, Papa, I think it'll put some pressure on Crux, especially if we show some force by entering Epsilon Crucis with the Fjord. Anna, did, afterall disappear on their watch."
The king groaned heavily. "We're supposed to be strengthening ties with Crux. The Fjord's a battleship. Don't you think that that might be a bit heavy handed?"
"No, Papa, I do not."
"Anna! We need to get you out of here. Now!" He spoke to her out loud, needing to believe that she was okay—that she would recover, even though she was still in a fragile state. With that in mind, he lifted a still weak Anna from the ground, as delicately as possible given the urgency of the circumstances. His first thought was to retrieve Dirty Eddie's railgun. His mind blitzed through all his options, rapidly weighing each exit strategy.
In the end, he figured he'd be better off heading directly back toward Sven, forgoing the search for the railgun in the thick fog. He turned back toward his snowcat, carefully navigating his way through low visibility.
Dirty Eddie's snowcat must be out here somewhere, Kristoff reasoned. He may have come here with a partner. Based on Eddie's reputation, it only made sense that he'd bring a lone companion, since having more than one could lead to complications should they stumble on some payload.
He had slung Anna over his shoulder, holding her in place with one arm as the other carried his axe. Anna murmured something he couldn't make out. "Msh-msh-melo," was what it sounded like. Huh? What are you trying to say, Anna?
Fingers clawed into his back, and then … the largest jötunn Kristoff had ever seen appeared from out of the fog, blocking his way. It was a hulking mass, easily over four meters in height, and as white as the snow on an Arendellian mountain top—an albino abomination, the first he'd ever encountered.
It was possibly an act of desperation ... Kristoff aimed for the monstrosity's single red eye, and was about to throw his axe when Anna screamed, "No!"
No? What just happened? Uncharacteristically, he hesitated, knowing he may have cost them their lives, but somehow he felt compelled to heed Anna's cry.
Anna struggled against his body, feebly kicking her legs and flailing her arms. Meanwhile, the jötunn stood still, it's single eye focused on both of them.
"Friend," Anna softly declared, and Kristoff was more than confused. "What?" None of this made any sense to him. Why hadn't the jötunn attacked. What did Anna mean by 'friend'? Kristoff's world was upside down.
"She's a friend," she repeated with labored breath.
It was a 'she', Kristoff observed, making the jötunn's size even more incredible. Could Anna actually be referring to the monster standing before them? His grip on his axe didn't relax, as he cautiously inched forward in the direction of his snowcat.
The albino jötunn's red eye followed their progress. Kristoff, in turn, treaded carefully. Surprisingly, the surrounding mist began to dissipate, making it easier to see.
"Marsh-mallow," Anna breathed, her voice a little clearer.
"Huh?"
"Her name is Marshmallow."
"You're kidding—right?" With his eyes still glued to the imposing figure standing just beyond them, he continued to move forward. "And how would you even know that?"
"Talk later. Feel crummy …"
Marshmallow, if that was even the jötunn's name, continued to track their progress, eventually turning away. It trumpeted a harsh cry, sending a chill down Kristoff's spine, before moving off to the location of Dirty Eddie's body.
A/N - Once again, I suck. Between my beta responsibilities, and trying to get in shape for an epic mountain biking adventure, I haven't been getting much opportunity to write. Thanks to Cattleworks for their input!
As always, comments and reviews are appreciated!