August 8th, 1840

With the explosion in the vicinity of the enemy camp hours prior and all of the reports of movement, there was no chance of a relaxed alert any time soon. Plus, there was the encounter with Snow Queen to consider. As such, the two had little choice but pile on some blankets in the main hall and try to catch some sleep. Such respite was fleeting, however, as shortly after the first light of dawn a light nudge shook both sisters awake.

It was Gumrak. "Your Majesty, Your Highness? The enemy has begun its attack."

…

Ásta was crouched in the wood line, accompanied by a few of her trusted undead warriors, surveying the coming battle as stealthily as she could. After all, while she ready to make her move, she needed to ensure that none saw her coming, and that her proxies were fully committed to battle. It would be impossible to tell whether not she was still undetected, but as for the latter she could say things were going well.

Three lines of men streamed towards the breaches in the stone walls surrounding Arendal, at the double-quick. The first flew no banners, the second and third did. It took a moment for Ásta to figure out what was going on before she figured it out, and only with the aid of spotting glasses. It turned out that the remainder of Muspell's bandits and thugs had been rounded up and disarmed, before being made to attack in the vanguard of the final crusader assault. Armed with nothing more than the odd club or such, they had no choice but to charge the enemy, as the men behind them where Surtrsen's own "trusted" troops, the butchers of many a Sami or Pagan village. Men who would think of nothing of bayonetting their own.

Ásta let off a nervous chuckle. "Surtrsen, you brilliant and sadistic bastard."

Linda raised an eyebrow. "My Lady?"

Ásta shook her head, "Nothing. Our thrall has created the opening we've been waiting for. It's time to end this."

Ásta took a deep inhale. While still a Draugr, Ásta could see that she now had returned to the way she looked before she died, which made her ponder if she looked the same inside. Her pounding heart certainly made it feel that way.

No matter. She thought, before addressing her chief lieutenants. "Now, Halfdan, I want you to take all but twenty of my troops and position yourselves in the woods behind the crusader army. None are to be allowed to flee into the woods. As for the twenty who go with me, they are to be Linda and nineteen of her choice."

The bearded undead man nodded. "At once, my Queen."

Ásta continued. "Linda, make it quick. We must move at once. We have a castle to storm and a Queen to crown."

Linda smiled. "The old Queen is dead, long live the Queen?"

"Precisely."

…

Eva waved through the last of the retreating loyalist troops, before she and a few others pushed a weighted cart into position and overturned it, creating a makeshift barricade on the doorstep of the Castle walls surrounding the Palace itself.

To put it bluntly, things had gone to shit.

When the Crusaders had attacked this morning, the bastards had used their own as meat-shields, which while that first wave suffered horrific casualties, the second and third where able to storm their way through. As such, there was no choice but to fall back to the castle to make a final stand. Luckily, Colonel Marcks had ordered an evacuation of all the civilians, though it was hard to call anyone that now. Facing the end, many of the older men and women now stood armed on the castle wall above them, terrified but resolute to face those that would bring death to them. Among the uniformed soldiers meant to protect them, things were little better.

At this point units had ceased to exist, as a mob of soldiers wearing different uniforms and bearing a number of different colors stood fast behind the erected barricades. Sailors, Landwehr, Grenadiers, Foreign Volunteers, Artillerymen with their guns, and even Highlanders and Students could be accounted for. Everyone was scared. Everyone was cold. Everyone was desperate.

But they were determined. Even without their beloved Princess or Queen, leaders could be seen. General Wilhelmsen still sick and all but crippled, leaned on a pillar and gave words of courage to his troops. A kilt-clad Highlander officer, A Captain Mackenzie Eva believed, jokingly dressed his men down, speaking of how the other clans would never let Clan Macintosh live it down if they were defeated by mere rebels, before assuring his Irish boys that it'd be an easy battle provided they 'just pretended they were facing Englishmen'.

But what was truly remarkable to Eva was the common soldier. Everyone did their damnest to put on a brave face, albeit in their own way. Mikael and Dieter Eriksen reunited at long last, albeit to "unmask" their sister Edda, who passed as "Edward" up until now. And while Dieter would have to leave shortly to stand by the Queen, his playful scolding was as sincere of a goodbye as could be given. In another part of the line, the Scandinavians hovered about their flag conversing, their language poetic to say the least. Some even produced parchment and pencils from seemingly nowhere and either wrote, prose or otherwise; or even made sketches of the city in winter. One caught her eye as being especially eccentric, a Mister Anderson, who made his living writing Children's Books. Easily not soldiering material, Eva did have to wonder what brought a man like him to a place like here.

Regardless, he was here.

He was here with many others, from noblemen to peasants, from illiterates to poets. Soldiers from across Europe, including Swedes, Germans, Norwegians, Danes, Irish, Scots, Sami, Finns and Russians. Hundreds of reasons to be here, all irrelevant. When the guns began to shoot, all of them would find one common goal.

Survival.

Eva took a deep inhale of cold winter air, before checking her rifle once again. Soon, very soon, the guns would begin to shoot.

…

Elsa placed the black cap snugly upon her head, her eyes peering into the mirror as she did so. Finished, she took a moment to study herself in the mirror. Unlike Anna, Elsa once again found herself lacking a military uniform, and fell back on the only one she knew would work.

Her father's Freikorps uniform.

Unlike last time, she didn't throw it on in a last minute panic, and she had no choice but contemplate something she had not been willing to for quite some time. How much of her father was in her, good and bad? While she was often told that of the two, Elsa took so much more after her mother both in looks and personality. But the more she dug, the more unpleasantness she found. For example, her mother never suffered from panic attacks or made poor decisions based on lack of emotional control. And yet Agnarr's diaries spoke of the often vicious reprisals ordered by her father during his early days as a Guerrilla. And even when it seemed Agnarr finally got his emotions in check, chilling similarities arose. Like Elsa, he tended to over correct, locking away himself from his troops and thusly making cold-blooded remarks in his journal when they died. Not to mention his often dry descriptions of combat and death, as if it was all just numbers to him.

But that was all the great paradox to Elsa, was that at the end of the day she wished so hard to be like her father at his best, and yet terrified of being like him at his worst. And seemed to be doing both at the same time. Even in the mirror, despite looking so little like him, Elsa couldn't help but feel a chill as a certain glare into the mirror reminded her of him, in some little way. But would it be enough?

Elsa sighed, turning about to grab her sword, before a voice startled her, one that brought tears to her eyes instantly.

"Elsa?"

She turned about, only to find herself confronted by the image of her father, trapped behind the mirror. But while the voice was familiar enough, the man in the mirror was much younger, and wore the same black uniform she was wearing now. His face was hard, his eyes bagged and far seeing, but despite it all, there was a glimmer of compassion in them as he set his eyes upon her.

"Father?"

"Yes… and no. I am the father that you keep insisting you compare yourself to, for reasons unknown to me."

Elsa's brow wrinkled in consternation, before replying. "Is so unnatural for a daughter to compare herself to her father, his good and bad?"

An annoyed look appeared on the mirror Agnarr's face. "So should any children you have constantly examine themselves in the mirror, constantly looking for the smallest traces of fear and then proclaiming that they too must be defined by those 13 terrible years you spent locked away from the world? That they can simply not rise above any failings their mother ever had?"

Elsa gritted her teeth, before her father carried on.

"Elsa, I am truly sorry for every trouble, and every sorrow you experienced in your short and hard life. Even when I was this young, the world I dreamed of leaving behind me was far more peaceful and prosperous than it turned out to be. I only wanted what was best for my daughters. But my failings need not be yours. I was a cruel man in Germany, because my environment was cruel. But you Elsa…" The ghost of Agnarr shook his head as he began to tear up "you are my better. Isolation and loss made me bitter, cruel and angry. It had no effect such effect on you. And clearly I never had to fight off magical manipulation, as you have done. You need not worry about losing yourself as I did, for you have endured far more than I did by now and found yourself standing tall."

Elsa fought back tears. "But you are all I have to compare myself with, Papa. Even if what you say is true, what about living up to the you I knew?"

Disappointment spread across Agnarr's face. "And did I sire you from just my own seed? Does your mother not factor into this?"

"Mother?" Elsa asked, tears in her eyes.

"Who else? Who do you think transformed an alcoholic, angry bitter teenager who was little more than feral into the King of Arendal and the father you know? Whose composure and diligence do you really think kept the kingdom together? Whose grace do you think built the diplomatic and economic relations that led to prosperity?"

"Momma did all that?"

A slight chuckle escaped Agnarr. "Your mother was always too damn modest for her own good. She never reaped the recognition she deserved."

"Huh" Elsa sniffed, slightly regaining composure.

"Elsa, you are the best of both of us. And most important, you are your own woman. Your destiny is by no means tied to mine or your mother's. So please, look towards the future. Not the past."

Elsa nodded. "I will Papa."

But before she could ask her father, familiar footsteps came trotting down the hall, those of Anna's. Breaking her concentration for but a second, Elsa's gaze returned the mirror, only to find her father's image replaced with her own. But despite the heartache, Elsa wiped away the tears and braced herself for her sister's entrance, which came soon enough.

Skidding around the corner, Anna appeared. Also dressed in a uniform, albeit a green one, she too was prepared for battle. "Oh, Elsa! All the preparations have been made so… are you alright?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes, I am. Now let's-"

Elsa froze, as her eye caught another supernatural sight, one that was much more terrifying than her dead father.

The masked and hooded Draugr made her way down a set of stairs, wielding a bloody blade. Assuming a mockingly friendly gesture it began to speak. "Queen Elsa, nice to see you, after all this time! I'm afraid I had to get my hands a little bloody breaking in, though I did try to avoid killing your guards. Good soldiers are hard to find, after all."

Elsa's eyes snapped to Anna. "You know what to do Anna, get out of here. Now."

Despite the clear conflict in Anna's eyes, she nodded, and ran off. The Draugr watched her run off, as it was joined by a number of undead warriors, none of whom seemed to worried that Anna was fleeing. Instead, the Draugr's chilling blue eyes made their way back to Elsa, before it spoke. "Oh, sending your sister off by herself? Are you sure that's wise?"

Elsa gritted her teeth, before snarling back. "I did it to keep her safe. Everything I do, I do for my sister."

Out of the blue, something snapped in the Draugr's mind, causing the undead woman to scream at Elsa. "THEN WHY WEREN' T YOU THERE-"

The Draugr caught herself, shaking her head and taking in deep controlled breaths, before continuing. "-for her?"

Elsa shook her head. "I feel no need to explain myself, monster. You came here to kill me." Elsa drew her sword and summoned a bolt of ice in her hand. "I'd like to see you try."

Elsa could sense the Draugr smile behind her mask. "Oh, Don't mind if I do."

…

Eva and the other now stood behind their barricades, at the ready. Within sight, Surtrsen's troops came, and were less than a minute from musket range. The young woman gritted her teeth, her heart pounding. This was it. This was likely the end. But just as she was ready to embrace her fate, a young man's voice broke the silence.

"Lo there, do I see my father."

She knew those words. And it was evident that many others did, as they joined in as the next line was spoken.

"Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers."

Eva smiled, as she joined in. It was a Norse pagan death prayer, but around her plenty of Christians seemed to have no trouble following along.

"Lo there, do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning!"

An officer shouted "Here they come, MAKE READY!"

But while every soldier readied his weapon, they continued the words.

"Lo, they do call to me, they bid me to take my place among them."

By now, the Crusaders were within musket range, and were forming firing lines. Loyalist officers began to give orders to present arms, and their rifles leveled against the enemy. But even so, the chanting continued.

"In the halls of Valhalla, where the brave, may live, FOREVER!"

"FIRE AT WILL!"

A great rippling gun fire was heard and felt as they all discharged their weapons, the effect was seen at once as the crusade ranks were torn to pieces by the gunfire. But even though Eva wished more than anything that it would be enough, that wasn't. They too leveled their rifles, and opened fire. As a result, a wall of lead flew towards the barricades, to which Eva could only hug the earth and wince, hoping one wouldn't find her today. As it turned out, none would find her. But many of her comrades were not so lucky. Wet smacks were heard and felt all around her, followed by the screams of the wounded. One such lad fell right beside her, a young man with a chest wound that bright red blood was hosing out of. But unlike the others, he simply clasped a fellow's hand, and began to speak.

"Our father, lord in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

His lips began to tremble, and his skin grew deathly pale. But even as his hands began to shake, he carried on.

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us for our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. I-"

He struggled to speak more, but the only noise that escaped his lips was a struggled gasp, before the light faded from his eyes. But Eva know how to finish, despite her pagan upbringing.

"In Jesus Christ's name, Amen."

"Eva! Follow me, we need your rifle!"

Eva's head snapped to the source of the order, surprised to find Lieutenant Gumrak, the Royal Guard Officer.

…

Elsa deflected another sword blow, before sending several ice spikes into an undead warrior, dispatching him quite quickly. Thankfully, the undead retinue surrounding the Draugr were nearly not as difficult to kill as the Draugr. Even so, Elsa continued sprinting across the grand foyer, chased by the Draugr and her few remaining troops. Before long, she reached the door, beginning at once to pull it open to escape through.

At once the Draugr began to mock her. "Oh, please, don't tell me you plan to simply run away from me Elsa! That's all you've ever fucking done, is run away!"

Elsa ignored Ásta, and slipped through the door. Ásta shook her head, growing ever more and more furious. "When I get that cowardly bitch I'll- no, I'll nothing. She doesn't deserve contempt. Open those doors!"

Her underling nodded, and at once began to pull both doors open as Linda moved to her side, shield at the ready. Not slowing down, she and her companions moved through the door.

She was greeted with canister shot made of cold iron, as cannons fired at near point blank range into her and her companions, blowing them back. The Draugr was forced to the prone as the cold iron tore into her limbs, forcing her to grit her teeth to avoid screaming in pain. As she struggled to her feet, she looked around, anxious to see what became of her fellows.

They were all gone, little more broken heaps of flesh and bone. Only Linda remained, and she was in pieces. Even so, the mummified undead warrior had a smile on her shrunken lips as she clasped Ásta's arm and spoke. "I'm glad I could lend you my shield one last time, my Queen. I'll see you in Valhalla."

And with that, the light faded from Linda's crystal blue eyes.

Ásta fought back both tears of pain and sorrow as she struggled to her feet, taking in her surroundings. Even through the cannon smoke, Ásta could see the offending artillery pieces, two of them to be exact, and a line of riflemen behind them. And behind them, Princess Anna and Queen Elsa.

Ásta struggled in a breath, as she looked at Linda one last time. And true to her word, Linda's shield was shattered, as it became clear that she had used it to protect her Queen rather than herself.

Ásta was angry. Very, very angry.

…

Elsa waited with tepid breath and magic at the ready, outside the front door of the palace in the courtyard. The trap had worked as planned, catching the Draugr unawares. All there was to do was to keep hitting her with enough fire power to bring her down, enough for Anna to finish her off with the magical dagger. Elsa wasn't a fan of putting Anna in such danger, but as both of them saw it, this was the only way. Only Anna had the "hero's" strength to wrestle down a Draugr, so she was their only option. And besides, by now, Elsa trusted Anna's ability to get the job done.

But the Draugr had to be taken down first, so they waited for smoke the clear. But those seconds seem an eternity.

A Guardsman spoke out. "Nothing could survive that shit."

Seconds passed, before a wind began to blow the smoke away. But before it could fully clear, a shadow sprinted through the smoke to the first cannon, screaming as she literally threw the heavy piece of artillery back into the air, flipping it over. Now more visible, the figure showed herself to be a furious Draugr in shredded clothing and armor.

"Cut her down!" someone screamed as all the Guardsmen present discharged their rifles into the Draugr, their cold iron bullets clearly having some effect. Even so, while she was getting worn down, the Draugr was still standing.

Elsa at once began to discharge ice bolt after ice bolt into the undead monstrosity before her, her heart pounding as she did so. Even so, the Draugr came after her, dispatching anyone between her and Elsa in brutal yet non-lethal fashion. Even Eva Holstadt, who had found herself lending her rifle in defense of the Queen, found herself dispatched with a sword blow to the face.

But their sacrifice was not in vain. The Draugr was slowing down, as Elsa landed strike after strike upon her. Merely feet away, the Draugr collapsed onto one knee, before Elsa sent one last ice bolt into the masked face of the Draugr, blowing the mask away. At that very moment a gust of wind blew down the tattered remnants of Ásta's hood, finally allowing all present to get a good look at the staggered Draugr.

Before Elsa could give the order to Anna to plunge the dagger into the Draugr's heart, her eyes met that of the Draugr. Those glowing blue eyes that Elsa could have sworn she had seen before, but could never quite place it. Until now.

Before her, staggered on the ground, was none other than Anna, clad in shattered armor and clothing, bleeding from numerous wounds, maintaining a death grip on an ancient Nordic sword, with murder in her glowing blue eyes beneath messy strawberry blond hair in two braids to her side. There could be no doubt.

Elsa hesitated.