"… I need him. He is everything. He is worth any sacrifice. Nothing Else matters. No one else matters. He. Will. Be. Mine. He doesn't have a choice."

-Ayano Aishi, Yandere Simulator.

"…Anna?"

Elsa looked her sister up and down, fighting a wave of emotion overcoming her. On one hand her heart fluttered in relief and joy that Anna was alive and by her side. But she also had eyes. Anna was now caked in mud and blood, her sword was dripping with the gore of likely many men, and Elsa could notice that blood coated Anna's teeth as well as flesh in the crevices as she nervously grinned.

And so, when Anna closed to hug her sister looking like a savage animal, Elsa had to fight to overcome a great deal of fear to do so, fear that she knew would have a literal chilling effect. She prayed that Anna would think of it the winter weather.

After what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence to Elsa, Anna pulled back, sniffing on account of the cold. With a slight grin, she began to talk. "So… that's Papa's old uniform, isn't it?

Elsa paused, her face blushing, though hardly anyone would notice in the cold. "Yes… I needed a uniform quickly, and I only knew of one."

Anna took a moment to respond, her ragged breath visible in the bitter cold. "It looks good on you. You carry yourself like him a lot."

Elsa hesitated, still a little reluctant to embrace similarities between herself and her father, knowing what he was at his worst. But that would only be sensible if she avoided such comparisons at all cost.

If you don't want people to see father in me, don't wear his uniform, Elsa thought. "Thank you."

"Now," Anna started, becoming slightly more animated as she talked. "Now that you are here, let's go finish this battle."

Elsa gave Anna a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

Anna chuckled nervously, before replying in a matter-of-fact tone. "What do you mean? You're here with basically all of Arendal's reserves, and while the Mercs have been beaten back, the rest of the army still needs help. We need to attack, and push them out of the city."

Elsa laughed in a slightly sarcastic manner. "Oh no you don't. I came here to get you out of this catastrophe. You and I are going back. Now."

Anna started to grow indignant, her face flushing with slight anger. "Elsa, I know myself and you entering the battle wasn't part of the plan, but we are already here, with a large number of troops. We have been committed, it'd be idiotic to pull back now."

"Idiotic?" Elsa scoffed, losing her usual calm demeanor as well as creating a noticeable chill in the air, even among the false winter about them. "What's idiotic is you blindly following a stupid order to attack. What's idiotic is you thinking that you could take on German shock troops alone and win. What's idiotic is-" Elsa shook her head in bafflement, before spurting out a continuation. "I was right! You aren't ready for responsibility, and you never will be!"

The air cooled, as the surrounding royal guard and officers all had ceased what they had been doing, and had begun spectating this debacle of a confrontation. A number of which were concerned that if this wasn't nipped in the bud, the whole damn army would see. But nobody dared interject, and almost all wanted to see how Anna would respond to this.

For her part, Anna stood silent and motionless for a moment, her mouth agape and her expression visibly hurt. For a moment, it seemed as if she would cry, but at the last second her tears turned to rage. "How dare you, HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! I fought here because I trusted you and your orders! I stayed and fought against the fucking Germans because there was nobody else here, and somebody had to hold the line! But wouldn't know anything about that, would you!? Every chance you've had, you've always ran like a fucking coward! From me, from your powers, your mistakes, even from your own people! You abandoned us all to die in your winter, and if it wasn't for me stepping up and doing what was necessary, we all would have died- because of you!"

Elsa had grown increasingly livid though Anna's tirade, and was seething by the time Anna had paused and had a moment to interject. "I did what I did, no, everything I do was to protect you, and others! You think you're responsible and brave because you decided to wander off during a snow storm? Try being responsible for yourself when you are a goddamn living weapon. I hid not because I was scared for myself, but for others. But you wouldn't understand what it's like to value for others, or what it's like to sacrifice to protect others, do you? All you cared about today was winning, not of the hundreds you murdered for your own damned glory!"

By this time, Anna was full on screaming. Marcks, who stood by silently through all of this, felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the battered princess scream while covered with blood, a chill he had not felt in decades. "I held the line because I fucking had to! Those are murderers and rapists we are fighting, and they will slaughter our people unless we fucking kill them all! We need to attack, now!"

Elsa's left hand balled up into a visibly shaking fist, before she flung it out towards the ground. As she did, magic flowed forth, creating a wave of jagged ice off to the side. The patch of spikes spread forth, stopping short of any bystanders but causing a number to leap back in terror. Eyes glowing blue, Elsa began to dictate in very certain terms as she visibly shook. "No. You and I are going back. Period. Colonel Marcks, get both battalions in order, we are going back. If Princess Anna resists, put her in Irons."

Anna paused, absolutely furious. After a moment, she threw down her sword with a scream, and stormed off back towards the castle. An attentive Royal Guardsman swooped down and picked up her sword, before himself and a few others trailed the Princess keeping a safe distance.

Waiting a moment, Marcks turned to Queen Elsa, whispering in a hushed tone as soldiers returned to their duties and milled about around them. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, I need the Gaelic Battalion to secure this side of the city and repel the enemy. With your-"

Elsa snapped her headed, glaring daggers at him with her still glowing blue eyes. "Both Battalions, Colonel. I need to keep Anna safe."

Marcks bit his tongue, desiring so much to protest but knowing better than to do so. "Of course, Your Majesty. It will be done."

The Colonel bowed, before turning and walking away, signaling several members of his staff to convene, as he began trying to win the battle at hand. It was only after everyone around her was gone or milling about that Elsa looked down at her now trembling hands. On her left glove, the inner palm and fingers laid torn to pieces, destroyed by her ice magic. In a terrified whisper, Elsa spoke to herself.

"I… I can't control it. I need help."

…

Johann von Söldnerstadt found himself aware again seemingly moments after he felt himself fade. Once again he found himself on the battlefield he had just fought on, however, the living combatants were all missing, and the sound of battle a distant thing. In addition, he was clean and unbloodied, and he felt warm as if it were a nice summer day instead of the frozen battlefield he found himself. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

He let out a sigh, before speaking to himself. "So I guess I died. That's a shame."

"I always figured you'd take it well, Johann."

Johann slightly jumped, turning quickly to the source. It was not a friendly face.

There stood Agnarr av Arendal, the nemesis of his life. Calm and relaxed, he had his arms clasped together in the small of his back, looking about the frozen battlefield. Initially turned, away, he wheeled about, speaking to Johann directly.

"You always were a stoic type. Or, at least I heard. After all, I wasn't the one physically keeping tabs on you, it was my spies."

Johann lip trembled, before speaking. "You bastard, you kill my family and you have the audacity to-"

"Be a spirit in MY home town, Johann? I wasn't the one who came here to kill the innocent daughters of my old enemy."

"They weren't innocent, and you know it! They have your blood, the blood of a monster. I have to end your line, here and now."

"You tried to end my line, here and now. In case you haven't noticed, you kind of failed. Besides, that's all nonsense and you know it. That'd be like saying I should hang every one of your children because their father was a traitorous lapdog that sold out to the enemy, because they'd do the same."

Johann shook his head. "You would never understand what I lost. I-"

"Oh, ho ho," Agnar shook his head with annoyance. "Trust me, Johann. I lost plenty of the things I loved along the way. And I didn't always get the bastards responsible. When the war ended, I left plenty of ghosts and demons in Germany. So don't you dare insinuate that I never lost something I loved."

"Then I don't understand. I saw you. You were a monster then. And you are a mon-"Johann paused, as he looked deep into the eyes of Agnarr, for the first time in decades. And while he was clearly no imposter, he seemed an entirely different man. The cold, calculating, predatory eyes were gone, and in their place were saddened and concerned eyes, almost like that of an older father concerned that his daughter was sick.

"How did you-"

"Move on? Simple, I found a life worth living, Johann. I had people to care for, and children to raise. And I faced my demons and ghosts. And I found that by forgiving my demons, my ghosts forgave me. At least enough that I could live with myself."

Johann paused for a moment, before sighing. "Well, it's too late in any case for me. I'm dead now, and I have no delusions as to the quality of life I led."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not. What's important is that it ends with us. My children are beyond my reach right now, but I'd bet money you can reach yours. Please, take your feud to the grave."

Johann's face grew bitter. "What makes you think you have any right to ask anything of me?"

Agnarr gave a short chuckle, one that irritated Johann to no end. "I wasn't asking for me. I was asking for my children. And yours. You met my youngest Daughter today, and three decades of experience and training failed to save you. Do you want your children to devote their lives to killing her? Or move on, and get the best of life?"

Johann sat in silence, doing no less than a complete retrospective of his life, as Agnarr gave some parting words. "We were products of a dark era, Johann. Our children are one of peace. As terrible as these last few days have been, they have been an anomaly of this age. Provided they survive all of this, they should enjoy this age of peace, shouldn't they?"

With that, the nemesis Johann had hated all of his life faded to nothing, leaving Johann alone with his thoughts.

…

Ásta was making her way back to her undead warriors, having spent the last several hours observing the pitched battle between the loyalists and the crusaders. Despite an early wonderful performance by Anna and some German Mercenary Colonel, the rest of the battle stagnated quickly thereafter, though the reasoning for it Ásta had found sadly humorous. By this point, the Sons of Muspell had begun doing what she had expected them to, reaving instead of fighting. This, combined with the Snow Queen's decision to withdraw decisive troops led to a sluggish battle that should have ended hours earlier. And she had no desire to watch a sluggish battle she knew the end to already.

So, she made her way back, disappointed but hopeful that she would see good display of this modern warfare soon enough. Not long after she entered the wood line, she picked up on a strange yet familiar sound, one she had been nearly mentally distracted enough to miss.

Heavy struggled breathing, coming from a nearby knoll of brush and trees. The blood trail, which stood out so vividly in the white snow, confirmed what the millennia-old Draugr already suspected. Quietly stalking up to the scene, Ásta found exactly what she expected, a soldier with a gut wound living his last moments. Besides him, was another, wearing a crusader uniform same as his, except he had already passed. Looking the dead man over, Ásta deduced by the tourniquet on his leg that he had likely had a stabilized wound that had become undone, leading to him bleeding out. This, and judging by where they were, led her to believe both had decided to desert despite their wounds. Or, perhaps because of them.

Looking at them both, Ásta became sure of it. Both looked similar, with the dead one appearing slightly older. Yes, the younger had received a fatal wound, and the older had decided to risk it all and bring his brother home, a decision that ended tragically. Now the younger was no less doomed, but now was all alone in his painful final moments. Ásta watched with a heavy heart, as only one thought appeared in her mind.

You did this. You are responsible for this.

"Damn it!" She whispered under her breath, fighting back the slightest tears in her eyes. She shook her head, as she knew better. She knew why she did this, why she did all of this. A sacrifice had to be made to save everything she held dear, and these two young men had been chosen by the Norns to pay the price.

"Mother!" The voice caused the Draugr to jump ever so slightly, before turning to its source, the young soldier. Despite his eyes being wide open in agony, he took not account of her being there however, and continued to cry out in between gasped breaths. For his Mother. His Father. His Brother. And even his God. A few minutes of guilt and pity led Ásta to action as she closed her eyes and reached out, feeling the young soldier's memories. Then, Ásta removed her mask and hood, before gently approaching the dying adolescent.

"Shh, your Mor is here, my sweet child." She cooed to him, as she knelt down and cradled his head in her arms. At once, his cries became less desperate, and his breathing less ragged.

"Mor?" He asked, delirious yet forlorn.

"Of course, my little cub. I am here for you."

"It can't be, I'm here, but you're in-"

"Shh, my child." Asta began. Beginning to stroke his head as his long distant mother had done so when he was a boy, she continued, failing to keep a strong front with her face wavering and tears forming in her eyes. "Mothers never leave you, little cub. We're always there for you. Even when you don't think we are."

The young soldier seemingly excepted this, and rested contently, his mind making one final, unspoken request. Ásta felt it, and bitter sweetly complied. She began to hum a folk lullaby, one that the boy's mother had hummed for him as a baby, until he reached adolescence. Then, wanted to outgrow childish things, he had asked her to stop. But now, at the end, his mind only desired one thing.

As she began to hum, it struck her at once that she had heard this song before. She had forgotten the name, but all those years ago, her own mother had sung it for her when she was but a child. This led to the one thing Ásta wished least, and gentle tears softly flowed over her face. Thusly, Ásta had no desire to prolong this, and used her powers to help the young man let go of his broken body, sending him into the eternal sleep. Shortly after he closed his eyes for the last time, his ragged breathing stopped, as did his heart.

Laying the young man's head down gently, Ásta sensed a familiar figure approach, that of her loyal retainer Linda. Ásta didn't need to turn around to know she disapproved.

"I would follow you anywhere my Queen, but nine realms, you can be too kind at times."

Ásta's face hardened as she stood up, before turning about and responding. "Easing a dying warrior's passing is hardly what I would consider excessive kindness Linda."

Linda sighed. "You should remember what you said, Ásta. They came to murder and destroy. They don't deserve pity."

Ásta shook her head. "He came for the same reason you joined my shield wall all those years ago, Linda. He thought war would be fun."

Linda paused, slightly sobered by her queen's words. Though to be fair, her mummified face hardly showed it. Moments later, Linda snapped into a defensive stance, as she saw what Ásta felt, the approach of an intruder. Ásta turned about, seeing a face she had not seen in so very long.

"It has been too long, Ásta. When I heard about a Draugr, at first I didn't believe it to be you, who so surely seemed destined for Valhalla. But here you are, in the mummified flesh."

He appeared older now, with grey hair instead of the dark brown she knew and a world weary but wizened face, thrown off by the new invention known as 'spectacles'. Not to mention, but he also seemed so strange dressed in a modern uniform, instead of the chainmail armor she was so familiar with. He had done well, as one with so much time should have, as he bore the rank of a Arendaler Colonel.

Despite it, she was all but speechless, only managing an unbelieving "Is that you, M-"

He shook his head, before cutting her off. "My name has changed many times over the years, Ásta. They call me Marcks now."

…

Henry von Soldnerstadt sat on a camp stool, warming himself by a fire as he tried to make sense of the world of his turned upside down. This morning, he had awoken as a mid-ranking orderly officer in a prestigious and elite Mercenary battalion, with his father there to guide him. Now, as the sky turned pink and the sun started to fall below the mountains of this damned country, all of that was gone. The battalion had gone from just shy of four hundred, to 79 officers and men. Worst still, his father and every ranking officer above him was dead. There were a few of equal rank, some even more qualified. But the name is what the men almost unanimously chose to follow after they cast ballots a few hours earlier. It was his first command posting.

As he worried about what tomorrow may bring, a set of footsteps drew near, revealing itself to be a somewhat familiar face, Major Stepford. Henry stood up at once out of courtesy, before the Sapper officer waved him off.

"None of that, son. Today's not that day for that." A moment passed, before the Englishman squeezed in an awkward but since condolence. "I'm sorry for your father, I had nothing but respect for him."

Henry nodded, before stewing with his thoughts a few moments more. Finally, he subtlety asked for help. "So what happens now?"

Stepford shook his head. "I don't know lad. We're battered and beaten, and god knows what that lunatic will have us do tomorrow. But it'd be a hell of a risk to back out now."

He had a point. Both of their battalions had been mauled in the assault, and together couldn't put a full battalion together. As such, striking their colors and turning their backs on the crusaders and leaving was a dangerous proposition indeed. But so was taking further orders from Surtrsen.

He sat a moment more, pondering his choices as out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Söldnerstadter colors lift aloft by a particularly strong gust of wind. It was sad to see it now, knowing the history behind it. His ancestors had carried that banner for centuries, as far back as the siege of Vienna. Almost every major battle fought since then, up to Waterloo, saw that banner fly. But whereas in the past it was a brigade or regiment that flew that flag, here he was, with less than a company. Two hundred years of glory, all but spent.

No…

Henry sat up, as something stirred inside of him, a voice best describing it, though not his own.

Save the colors, save the Battalion. That is all that matters now.

Henry nodded, feeling some strange bravery welling up inside of him. Yes, it was the only way. "Stepford, see if we can have a talk with the other mercenary captains. It's time we save our men."

…

Anna paced around the room, a burning fire lit inside of her as she clutched a set of papers containing a report on the aftermath of today's battle. They had driven back the invader, but it was too little, too late. While the counter attack stalled, Crusader Irregular forces had marauded behind the lines of the battle, spreading misery in their wake. Looting, Arson, Rape, Murder, no mercy had been shown to the people caught by the Sons of Muspell. But had the counter attack had an extra fresh battalion or two…

She had been vindicated today, but it brought her no pleasure to say so. Tonight was not about her command, or anything else. It was a plea to her sister, to never be this cautious or protective again. "She became too focused on me, and lost sight of what was truly important." Anna spoke softly to herself, in a hushed whisper. "If I apologize for losing my temper, and show her this, she'll come to her senses and we can recover from this. At least we could try, IF SOMEONE CAME OUT OF THEIR ROOM ALREADY!"

Hence why she was pacing back and forth, instead of meeting with her sister at this very moment. Elsa, for reasons unknown to her, went to see that old Shaman lady and hasn't come out since. And while she knew the long history of how hard it was to get Elsa out of her room, Gerda had assured her that Elsa had plenty of work she was committed to for the night, and well, Elsa was too poor of a liar to bullshit Gerda on this manner. So, there was nothing to do but wait. Taking a seat, she crossed her leg (how awesome were trousers?!) as well as her arms and slumped back. The minutes began to flow, and Anna's eyelids grew heavy, before she nodded off.

A large crash startled Anna awake, though in her haze Anna couldn't have told whether mere seconds passed or if it had been hours. Leaping to her feet, she paused for a second to take in her surroundings. Nothing around her could have made the noise, and even more damning was the worried look on Gerda's face.

"Is anyone in there with her?" Anna demanded.

"Perhaps the old Sami Shamaness, but I last saw her hours ago…"

Anna wasted no more time. She seized the door knob and slung the door open, happy to find it unlocked but undeterred if it had been. Inside she found Elsa on her knees, with an arm on the table for support. Silverware was scattered about everywhere, and Elsa was clearly under the weather. No one else was in the room.

"Elsa!" Anna cried, before rushing to her sister's side, helping her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Elsa muttered, blinking her eyes rapidly. "I am just feeling a little light headed."

Gerda responded before Anna could even think of a response. "Your Majesty, did you black out for a moment?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Elsa!" Anna cried out, being the scolding sister for once. Gerda's face was that of stone, with only a slight hint of fear behind the mask.

"Anna. Gerda. I'm fine. I'm just tired. As soon as I'm finished with your business, I'll go to sleep."

Anna hesitated for a moment, before shaking her doubts off. "Alright. The thing is, my business it is actually regarding you." Anna passed Elsa the report.

Elsa took the report, muttering a courtesy before studying it intently. Anna waited with bated breath, studying Elsa's face for a reaction. At first, Anna was pleased with what she was seeing, with Elsa growing more and more horrified. But something strange happened near the end. Growing more and more upset, Elsa at one point bit her bottom lip and began to blink rapidly, as if something was in her eye- or she was about to start sobbing. But after a few blinks and a sniff, Elsa's face turned to an unmoved, blank expression.

Turning to Anna, she coldly spoke. "And what is this supposed to mean?"

Anna's brow furrowed in frustration. "What do you mean? It says it plainly. Today's counter-attack stalled because it needed more men. Men that were tied up protecting me. Now I'm willing to admit, I screwed up today Elsa. I lost my temper and questioned you in public, something no Arendaler should ever do. So I'm willing to resign my commission, but please, please don't put my safety above the people of Arendal."

Elsa however, looked unmoved. Drawing closer, she began to speak in a chilling tone. "That's where you misunderstand, Anna. I'm not angry at you for losing your temper. But I need you to understand something." Elsa now stood inches away, their chests nearly brushing. Giving a smile, Elsa ran her fingers across Anna's cheek, sending a chill down the younger sister's spine. "All those people who died today. They. Don't. Matter. The only thing that matters to me, Anna, Is your safety."

"Elsa-" Anna began to protest, before Elsa did the unthinkable.

Cutting her off with another creepy stroke of her fingers across Anna's cheek, Elsa gently cupped the back of her sister's neck before firmly kissing Anna in the French style. Revulsion overcame Anna and her skin crawled, but the moment she tried to step away, Anna found Elsa's other hand had grasped her arm and was holding her tight, keeping her in place. Finally, after a sickening minute, Elsa pulled back. But gone was the icy glare of moments before. In its place was something far more disconcerting. Her mouth was slightly agape, and the rest was beyond overjoyed, perhaps euphoric. But her eyes, were dead. Blank. Like that of a doll. Confronted with such a face, Anna could only tremble. She turned to Gerda, who stood still and seemed unmoved.

"But it is getting late Anna, and I am tired. I must retire for now. I will see you in the morning. We have much to… discuss."

With that, Gerda bowed politely and turned to leave, guiding the still stunned Anna out of the room and down the hall. It was a good several minutes before Anna collected herself to even speak. But when she did…

"GODDAMNIT, GERDA!" Anna barked, causing Gerda's hold on Anna to slightly tense. But Anna was having none of it. Throwing her shoulder forward to break free, Anna "escaped" Gerda's hold, distancing herself. "How could you just stand there and let her say that! How could you just stand there…" Anna panted, trembling with rage, before seizing the nearest oak bench and flipping it towards Gerda, causing the elderly maid to take a step back. "… just stand there and let her do that!"

Gerda paused, before commenting. "That bench weighs over 200 pounds…"

"I don't give a good god damn-"Before Anna could finish, the Maid was on her in the blink of an eye, grabbing her with a fistful of uniform fabric. Before Anna could act, Gerda slapped her across the face, stunning her.

Gerda's eyes pierced Anna's soul, and in a severe tone, she sharply spoke. "Your Highness, shut up and listen. You are in danger. I need to get you out of this castle without causing a scene. Can you do that?"

Anna stammered, before gathering words. Gerda had never spoken to Anna in such a severe tone, nor laid as much as a hand on her. "I don't understand. "

Gerda swallowed, pausing to collect herself from a fear she herself struggled to overcome. "I've seen this all before."

…

Bit of Notes.

So It's been like what, 9-10 months since my last update, right?

Oops.

To be honest, the sad thing was that this chapter was like 90 percent done and then I got a job that was like an hour and fifteen-minute commute one way, where I was working from 6 to 430. As such, any motivation I had for writing (or any higher level brain function) pretty much stopped. Only recently has that job-site closed down, leading to me picking up where I left off. I can't say for certain If I'm going to be regularly updating again, though I do want to finish this series as I'm so close to the end. Sorry for any inconvenience I have caused.

As always, please review or message as always, I really enjoy feedback.

See you soon,

O7

Dragunov