July 31st, 1840
The Dungeons, Royal Palace, Arendal
The rifles fired, send bullets speeding towards Elsa with lethal intent. And with the iron shackles on, Elsa had no way to block the bullets, sealing her fate.
Or so it would seem.
As the smoke from their rifles cleared momentarily after firing while the lowered their rifles, the trio of mercenaries saw a very disconcerting site.
The Snow Queen was very much still alive.
More so, long icicles encased the bullets, curved into hook like arcs away from her person, all three suspended in mid-air. A moment passed, just long enough to send a chill down their spines, before the bullet-icicles dropped to the ground. Awestruck at the spectacle, the three continued to stare at their target, and how she changed before them.
By this point, the glow of eyes, the glow that followed her tears, was unmistakable, even if there was broad daylight in the dim cell. By now, it was beginning to overshadow the existing light, hueing the room's light in blue. And if one bared to notice, the Snow Queen no longer blinked.
Not that they would, as even now, the cell she was locked in began to rapidly freeze around her, causing her guards to begin to panic. Nils attempted to reach for his revolver, drawing it only to see it had already been completely frozen jammed shut. Not a block of ice, mind you, but a perfectly slim and elegant ice encasing that filled every groove and mechanism with a sheet of ice.
Before they could make their next move, Elsa made hers. Her shackles unraveled, not exploded as the ice forced them open in a firm but precise manner, causing them to drop her feet. Having gotten their attention, Elsa spoke with a commanding, supernatural voice in a tongue unrecognizable to the men facing them.
"Ég er Elsa, Skaðidóttir. Og ég mun hafa hefnd mína!"
At this point the mercenaries attempted to flee, only to see that the growing ice patch had encased their feet, leaving them unable to move their legs. As they shifted, grunt and crying out in panic, a blizzard like gale began to form in the room, unraveling the Snow Queen's hairdo into a wild, natural state as she strode towards them. As she neared the cell bars, they simply snapped like twigs as she neared them, the last thing between her and them crumbling before their eyes. As she stepped through the missing bars, her eyes stayed transfixed on the doomed men, unblinking and glowing blue with power. Except now, there was no free flowing tears, but only ice.
"Andask nú!" Elsa cried as she trembled from anger, having decided the fate of the men who would have killed her. Bringing up her left hand, a glowing icy swirling cloud encasing it forebodingly. Elsa took a moment to glance at the hand, seemingly unfamiliar with it and taking a quick mental refresher, before moving into action. She swiped the air before the mercenaries, to horrifying effect.
As the blast of ice magic hit the men, what it did what flash freeze every water molecule the magic encountered turning it either to grainy ice or snow, before Elsa's control of winter gales blew all of her new "snow" away. The result was blood red puff of snow that erupted out of the three men's chest cavities, leaving behind little but empty rib cages as the men died with agonized, horrified expressions. Their lungs gone, they couldn't even scream if they wanted to.
The first three dealt with, Elsa turned to her now dead sister. With a saddened whimper, Elsa embraced her corpse, nuzzling her face into her sister's bloody shoulder. She lingered for but a moment before withdrawing, hovering a few inches above her face. With a shaking hand she closed her sister's eyes, before kissing her on the forehead.
"Ég elska þig Anna. Ef ég þrjóta, svefn vel í Folkvangr." She whispered in an ancient tongue. She then cupped up her sister's slushy blood with both her hands, before bringing said 'cup' to her face, drenching her face with her sister's blood. "Svo þú munt vera með mér eins og ég hefna þín, sváss, góðr nipt."
She stood fully upright, before waving her hands in a sweeping motion that covered her whole body with a new garb. Unlike the last which had been elegant dresses, this was a step back as instead icy hunting furs and armor covered her from head to toe, turning her into a physical manifestation of the goddess of Winter, Skadi the Huntress. Her skin turning a light shade of blue, Elsa stepped into the darkness that was the inner depths of the dungeon little different from an ice giantess, ready for vengeance.
…
Widstrom and his few remaining men were working unlocking the series of doors that made up the secret exit of the castle when an icy gale rushed down the hallway, extinguishing the torches that lit the room and halls, as well as any lantern that was not firmly locked down, leaving the room much dimmer and the hallway pitch black.
A number of the mercenaries began to shout and panic, before Widstrom took control. "Shut the fuck up! So the Snow Queen still lives, what does it manner! Come on, she's a woman, not a god! Peter, keep working on the door. The rest of you, shoot anything that moves down that corridor!"
The mercenaries nodded, before scurrying to positions of cover, peering down into the darkness that was the hallway. Peter, hands shaking from fear, continued to work on picking the ancient locks. There was an uneasy silence for the next few moments, broken up only by breathing, muttering, and the sound of tools moving.
"I can't see a goddamn thing." A mercenary quipped. "Can we get some light down this hallway?"
Widstrom paused, before turning to one of the five he had left. "Paul, take a lantern and see if you can illuminate that hallway."
Paul nodded, the middle aged man grabbing a lantern before peeking around the corner carefully, lantern held aloft. "I see something fellows. Wait, it's her!"
Elsa appeared briskly pacing down the hallway with a purpose. Eye's glowing as if lit with bluish fire and with a grim, merciless expression, was unfazed by her discovery.
Edward, always one to leap into action, turned around the corner. "DIE YOU BITCH!" He squeezed off a shot, sending the lead slug down range. Elsa however simply whipped her hand out, creating a block of ice that encapsulated the incoming bullet that allowed her to "catch" the bullet. No sooner had the spike captured the bullet, she flung the spike back at Edward, impaling him and pinning him against the stone.
"JESUS CHRIST!" A man shouted, as they turned to their dying comrade, and watched in horror as the flesh around the wound turned black with frostbite, spreading across his body in mere seconds.
Widstrom turned about, shouting at Peter. "HURRY THE FUCK UP!"
"I'm going as fast as I can!" He wiped his brow, before shakenly resuming his work. "Christ!"
Paul proceeded to begin blindly firing his revolver around the corner, exposing as little as possible. But this meant little to Elsa. She simply guessed his approximate location behind the wall, before sending a bolt of ice down range.
The ice bolt simply flew into the wall, coming out on the other side of the wall, piercing Paul through the heart.. As his corpse slumped over, as frostbite like that of Edward began to spread. The other two simply stood in shock refusing to move, before hunkering down and waiting for Elsa to come around the corner.
But Elsa was anticipating an ambush as she entered the room. She swung both her arms out, creating walls of ice that simply smashed both remaining combatants against the wall like insects. With them gone, all that remained was Peter and Widstrom as Elsa entered the room.
Widstrom in sheer panic, screeched at Peter. "COME ON!"
As Elsa coldly approached both men huddling next to the door, Peter stammered during his last moments, as his hands shook so wildly the tools slipped out of his hands. "I-I-I ca-ca-can't do it!"
Elsa reached them, grasping Widstrom and throwing into the wall, saving him for later. Peter, sensing the sorceress behind him, violently shaking the bars in terror while screaming for help. Stopping after a few seconds, he turned about and began to grovel with his hands slightly raised and curled.
"Please, I'm just the tinkerer, I'm not the one you want!"
Unamused, Elsa simply swung her left hand in a sweeping motion, disintegrating his chest cavity as she had done to the trio that were to be her executioners. As Peter screamed without a sound and fell over dead, Elsa turned to the primary target of her vengeance, Widstrom.
Eyes wide with horror, Widstrom drew his revolver and pressed it against his temple with a mentally unsound laugh. Determined not to see Widstrom take the easy way out, Elsa jabbed at Widstrom's wrist, sending a spike of ice that severed his hand from his body.
"Fuck!" He screamed, as he grasped his stump in agony, as frost bite began to run down his arm. He gritted his teeth for a few seconds as he exhaled forcefully through his nostrils, before beginning a pained and psychotic laugh. "It doesn't matter what you do to me Elsa! No matter what you do, I will have hurt you more, by killing Anna!
Elsa gazed at Widstrom with a look that could freeze scalding water, before coldly speaking to the man she was about to hurt very, very badly.
Þinn heppin ég þarf að drífa, Cur.
Elsa closed in, grabbing Widstrom with her right hand, before holding her left hand over his chest, her fingers having contorting as dark magic built up its power. She then blasted the foulest of her magic into Widstrom, with terrible effect. Starting with his extremities, Widstrom's blood in his blood vessels began to freeze in jagged ways, ripping his body apart from the inside as the ice made its way towards his core.
Despite his bold words, Widstrom began to scream in pain, leading Elsa to shout over him in an ancient tongue. Like before, this was no longer the voice of Elsa, but a terrible yet beautiful shout.
Hennar lífblóð var ekki ykkarr við stela, hún var mitt og mitt einn!
As the ice reached his heart, Widstrom's screaming and violent convulsing stopped, his agony at an end. Elsa sighed, before standing upright and taking a moment to admire her handiwork, and ensure the task was completed. By now, Widstrom's body was blacked with frost bite, but had withered and convulsed into a twisted shape, with a death mask of unsurpassed agony and torment.
Satisfied, Elsa turned and headed back the way she came.
…
Anna's corpse had sat undisturbed as Elsa returned to the hall in which she died, stopping before her. And beginning to speak again in the old Norse tongue.
"Anna, ég mun frelsa þig. Og ég mun setja þig minn, ey."
Elsa then raised her arms and closed her eyes, and proceeded to unleash a stream of power into Anna's lifeless corpse. Before long, Anna's spilt blood, raced back into Anna's neck wound, before icy fabric sealed it shut. But an equally dramatic change affected Elsa, as her snowy white hair turned dark brown and she began to grow withered, as if she had been starved. Her light blue skin turned back to a normal. Just when her cheek bones and ribs began to press against her skins, the magic ceased, causing Elsa to collapse unto the floor, now barely clothed in the tattered remains of her dress.
A long moment passed, before a nearby door opened and the sound of approaching hobnails clicking onto the stone floors made itself heard. As the footsteps neared, Anna took her first breath since she had died.
…
Outskirts of Arendal, Crusader Base Camp
Ásta was quietly seated on a hill, facing south towards Arendal as she had been for hours. She had been uneasy since morning, when she had sensed the trouble in Arendal.
She kicked herself for not seeing it coming, as up till this morning she had been in total control of the situation. But when Elsa's and more importantly Anna's life was in jeopardy, it all risked falling apart. Only moments before had she felt the shift of spiritual energy that was Elsa's rage, and the few minutes of crushing despair that her plans had failed when Anna had temporarily been killed. As soon as she felt Anna's presence return, Ásta had made her mind up.
A hulking presence made itself felt, causing Ásta to sigh, expelling her own anxiety as she stood up and opened her eyes, turning to face her thrall: Muspell.
His transformation had finally been completed, turning the man into a Draugr thrall, but one engineered for her purposes. After all, Muspell suddenly donning the face mask or bandages of a leper would have raised far too many questions. So he made to appear the same, until he tapped into his powers. When he did, he became much like an undead Fire Giant, true to his name. He now possessed many of the same powers as well now, though compared to her he was but a boy with a torch.
"You summoned me, literally." The giant spoke, his eyes blazing with rage as he gritted his teeth through his beard. "YOU said I wouldn't be a slave!"
"No, I said you wouldn't be mindless. In either case, if you want to be free, you merely have to do what I want."
The newborn thrall grunted in frustration, his true nature showing slightly. "What do you want?"
"The mission I tasked with when I created you. To Kill Princess Anna with the blade."
"That's it? You just want me to head south and assassinate her? Then I'm free?"
"Well, obviously you are to take all of your mounted troops down south, and instruct them to harass the city. And while your men are keeping Arendal tied down, you will enter the city, and kill Anna with the dagger."
Muspell grunted, before asking a final question. "That's it? Anything else?"
"Oh, yes. It must be done in daylight, before a crowd if possible. For this to work properly it cannot be done in the dark, both figuratively and literally."
"I'll kill her any way I fucking want, I mean, who gives a shit?!"
Ásta's eyes flared blue, before she pointed at him, before gesturing towards the ground. Muspell's knee's buckled and he collapsed onto all fours, his limbs shaking. Ásta then calmly strode up to him grasping him by the neck, squeezing it with brutal force.
"I give a shit, Muspell. I have waited too long for this, I will not see you, a fucking baby compared to me, ruin it! Now, you will do as I command, or I WILL assume direct control. And if I do, you'll never have as much as an independent DREAM again, let alone your Freedom! Now GO!"
She threw him back onto his feet, Muspell stumbling as he regained his footing. As he began to scurry back to his horse against his will, he heard Ásta's voice call out to him. "I'm a woman of my word, Muspell. I promise to you, if you do as I ask, how I ask it, you will be free for all your days."
She turned away from the thrall, looking back towards Arendal again.
But I will be watching.
…
Bit of Notes.
Howdy folks, glad to have gotten this out the door. For a long time now, I've been looking forward to this, and now it's finally here. Elsa has in fact, rocked the mic properly in this scene.
Next chapter will likely take longer, as I've put a lot of work getting these chapters out timely, and there's a lot of stuff I got to do. Not that I'm taking a hiatus, just don't expect a turnabout within a week.
As for Elsa's speech, the lack of translation is done on purpose. Because spoilers.
See y'all later,
O7,
Dragunov