Stomping boots shatter the silence earlier draping across the forest. Beneath the moonlight, its trees cast shadows in all directions, but it does nothing to slow the advance of Prince Karl's flag battalion. Like ants marching towards a pot of sugar, the soldiers scamper through the woods. Despite their bravery from battles waged across the European continent, their spirits waver as they draw near Arendelle's border. The Snow Queen's magic has led to frozen hearts amongst them, but still more fearful they are of their master's whip, and occasionally - his sword.
Riding in the center with the command company, Prince Karl strikes an unimpressive figure in the saddle as men dart through the forest around him. Dressed like any other soldier, only the gilded epaulettes on his shoulders set him apart as the last ruling monarch of the Southern Isles. The Major's horse lets out a snort as it trots alongside Karl's, and he unfurls a map.
"Sir, I beseech you," he pleads, with one hand on the reins and the other keeping the map from fluttering away in the dawn breeze, "we're going too fast, the front will reach Arendelle by sunrise, and it's better for the men to be well-rested before breaching their border. We don't know what the Snow Queen is capable of."
"It's not her I'm after," Karl scowls, his bloodshot eyes glistening in the shadows.
"Still, it's likely any inadvertent movement might trigger their defenses," the Major retorts, "we have to tread carefully if you want your plan to go smoothly-"
"I am treading carefully now," Karl answers, pulling out a compass and tilting his eyes to the moon, "the nearest village isn't more than five miles from our position."
"Five?" the Major gasps, squinting at the map and trying to figure out his location; made impossible by the darkness and constant bobbing of his horse, "Sir, I recommend slowing and exercising caution-"
"No caution, throw all your goddamned tactics and maneuvers out of the window," Karl interrupts, snatching the map from his hand, "we have to swoop in like a hawk and grab the Arendelle royalty by their balls!"
Ahead, a lieutenant ducks beneath a tree branch as his horse trots towards the commanders. "Sir, Sir!" he calls out, "forward company has reached River Holmen-"
"Very well then," the Major answers, "get into formation and wait for the engineers to bridge your men across-"
"Sir, the river is frozen solid, but I told them to wait on the bank for orders-"
Neighing cuts through the noise of stomping boots as the commanders yank on their reins.
"Frozen?" Karl exclaims.
"Aye, your Majesty, all the way up to the mountains, there isn't a trace of flooding anywhere upstream, and it's as warm as a spring dawn gets."
"Magic!" the Major shrieks, "Please, Sir, we have to regroup before deciding how to tackle this sorcery of hers-"
"No! Elsa has unwittingly given us an opportunity with her so-called powers, and I intend to exploit this to its full effect," Karl yells over the Major's protests, before turning to the lieutenant, "tell your men to double-time across the goddamned river, the battalion center will catch up with you!"
"But-"
"Inform the Duke! I need his cavalry to flank around the town for this plan to succeed-"
A scream pierces through the air, followed by another, and a chorus of yelling and howling thereafter. The commanders whip their heads to the front, but trees and darkness block their view of the situation.
"What the hell is going on there?" Karl yells over the noise of growling and grunting. He turns to the lieutenant for an answer, but no soldier sits in the saddle. The riderless horse leaps over its hapless owner thrashing about on the floor, his throat being torn apart by a snowy-white wolf. Patches of white appear around the Prince, each one materialising into a wolf and lunging towards the nearest soldier.
"Ambush!" the Major shrieks, before reaching for a bugle and giving one long blast on the horn. His sword rings as he swivels around and beheads the snow-wolf, but the lieutenant's blood has already spilled upon the grass.
"Go, go, go!" Karl yells, pushing his horse into a full gallop, "Push through!" The Prince's mount knocks aside another wolf, before trampling upon another lunging towards him. His command battalion rallies to the sound of his adjutant's bugle as they rush to protect his advance. Gunshots pepper the forest's serenity, saturating the air with the smell of smoke. In the corner of his eye, Karl watches a young soldier take aim at a wolf streaking towards him. His poorly aimed shot strikes the creature in its hind quarter, before it leaps to shoulder-height and rips the boy's face clean off.
Crimson sprays across the soil. Karl whirls around and watches the logistics convoy being charged on all sides by wolves. Engineers stand in their seats, hacking apart wolves with axes and shovels and whatever they can find. Beneath the glimmer of their torches, he watches with a pounding heart as each swing of their weapons shatter the wolves into plumes of sleet.
"No, no!" Karl yells, turning to the front and shouting at the top of his voice, "No guns! Don't shoot at them! Draw swords!"
At once, the sputter of gunfire whittles away into a ringing of swords and bayonets being drawn. The screams and shrieks die out too, replaced by the crush of steel on snow. In the ensuing melee, broken bodies and shattered clumps of snow line the forest floor. In a frantic rage, the army charges forward at double pace, ready to take on Elsa's terror, but there're no more wolves to be seen.
"Onward! Onward!" Karl yells, weaving his mount between platoons of soldiers, "Don't break the pace!"
Ignoring the Major left straggling behind in the carnage, Karl breaks through the forest's cover and reaches the forward company. Huddled in a circle against the riverbank with bayonets bristling around their perimeter like a porcupine, the men make short work of the wolves, scattered around their feet in piles of snow. The company sergeant major sallies forward upon seeing Karl riding forth, his sword glimmering with sleet and ice.
"Sir! We've sustained minimal losses-"
"Sergeant! Get your men across the river! My company will cover your rear-"
A blast of snow and soil slams into the Prince. Flung upon the ground, he leaps to his feet and narrowly avoids being crushed by the beast towering over him. Karl draws his sword and rises to meet his opponent: a ten-foot tall bear wrought from snow and ice, with claws like shovels and icy-spiked jaws, its armor glimmers in a hue of blue and white beneath the moonlight. Without thinking, Karl hurls his sword at the beast, slicing across its shoulders and further inflaming its rage. At the monster's ear-splitting roar, the men back away from it, bayonets trembling in their hands.
"Cowards!" Karl hisses, snatching the rifle of the soldier nearest to him, "Attack, you fools!"
The prince hurls the rifle towards the beast; its bayonet streaking through the air and sticking into the bear's eye. With a cry, it staggers backwards and rips the pointy object from its skull, further tearing into its eye in the process. Spurred on by the sight of water leaking from the bear's head and the Prince's exhortations, the soldiers fling their weapons in a ferocious counter-attack. The beast waves its claws in an attempt to swat away the soldiers, only to have them hacked off by swords.
Clutching at his bloodied shoulder, the sergeant major runs to Karl, "We move out, Sir?" he asks.
"Yes, go!" Karl yells over the men's shouting, "I'd be damned if the Duke fails to overtake you!"
The prince stumbles amidst the clumps of snow as he tries to mount his bruised horse. With a grunt, he urges it towards the rear of the battalion, passing men and wagons burdened with the equipments of war. Ignoring the many salutes given his way, he doesn't stop until he reaches the very back of the battalion. Surrounded by the strongest horses and cavalrymen clad in the gleaming armor, the riders split away from the back to allow Karl access to the wagon they're protecting.
"Hold up! Stop here for a second!" he commands, bringing the convoy to a halt as he leaps off his horse. He yanks open the wagon door and comes eye to eye with the only person inside - a wrinkled monk with greyed hair and one eye missing.
"We got ambushed, Elsa probably knows we're coming by now," Karl pants, clutching at his chest, "is everything alright? Is it alright?"
"Aye, sir," the monk croaks, patting the chest lying on the bench beside him. Karl looks over the monk's shoulder, just to be goddamned sure the chest is still there. Still, the sight of it isn't enough to soothe his nerves, and Karl lifts the swathes of black cloth cloaking the chest, only for the monk to slam a hand on his.
"Be careful!" he shrieks, "It's very sensitive!"
"Ok, ok-" Karl mutters, backing away from him, "Our plan is in motion then, meet me at the town centre when you arrive, and don't forget to keep it hidden from view."
With her eyes following the leaves fluttering about in the wind, Elsa stands on the Palace's south balcony. A faint whisper leaves her lips, floating about on the same breeze whipping through the cape of her ice-gown. In the distance, a glimmer catches her eyes, and she tilts her gaze to the white dove descending from the southern wind. Craning her head to a side, she doesn't flinch as the bird perches on her shoulders. The Queen's glossy lips curl into a grimace as the bird tweets in her ear.
"Well, it's happening then," she mutters, sending the bird hopping down her arm and onto her fingertips, "keep an eye out for me."
Elsa blows at the bird, reducing it into a plume of snow feathers fluttering towards the south. She turns around on her heels and re-enters the meeting room. Usually filled with commanders and advisors for a time like this, instead she finds a retired Colonel and the Captain of her personal guard. Upon the table perches a pigeon, and in the Captain's hands - a hastily scribbled note from one of the town's residents, pleading for aid.
"Any news from Helga?" the Colonel asks.
"It's worse than I thought," Elsa says, looking at the map laid out before her, "Karl has two battalions occupying the town, and the Duke has them surrounded on three fronts all the way up to the fjord's edge. He's committed one entire division to the blockade, and they won't be getting any food or supplies from either the main road or the river."
The Captain takes a pencil and scribbles lines corresponding to Elsa's information.
"Karl took casualties from the defenses I installed in the forest, but alas, they were too many," Elsa laments, placing a hand on her forehead and shaking her head, "and it happened before dawn, when I was asleep-"
"The defenses were meant for border incursions on a local scale: bandits and thieves - no one could have anticipated an outright invasion without a formal declaration of war," the Colonel says.
"Now is the time to reverse this misfortune, your Majesty," the Captain comments, "I beseech you, take flight to the south and destroy-"
"I can't," Elsa says, shaking her head, "I can't just fly down there and bomb the place to ice dust. The Prince has troops in every single one of their homes, an offensive action on this scale would reduce the town's temperature to below freezing. In this weather they'd all be dead, soldier and civilian alike."
"Well then-"
"Any chance we could mount a counter-attack with conventional forces?" Elsa asks, putting her finger down on the map, "Perhaps we could break them out into the ravine, here-"
"Not against one division of cavalry, we can't," the Colonel says, "besides, it'd take days just to muster the men, and another week to move them down south. The town would starve to death by then."
"Shit-" Elsa mutters, shaking her head, "This doesn't make any sense, why would Karl commit so many resources into taking a town with barely any strategic value?"
"Ransom, perhaps," the Captain suggests, "we shouldn't rule out a diplomatic solution to this. With your permission, let me send a messenger down there. Maybe we can get a sense of what the hell he wants."
"That won't be necessary," Elsa answers, "he's already sending one to us."
"What-"
"He should be here, any moment-"
Despite Elsa's prediction, the men flinch when a knock on the door disrupts their meeting. The Captain opens the door to Gerda standing in the hall; her face as white as sleet and her paunchy figure trembling in its place.
"Your Majesty, a messenger left a letter for you at the castle gates," Gerda says with a shaking voice, "he did not seek an audience with you, just...hand-delivered the note, and left."
Elsa stoops to her height and takes the letter, franked with the Seal of the Southern Isles. Unfolding the parchment, the three leaders read it together.
Queen Elsa,
Ten more die every day until you send the Butcher of Arendelle to me.
-Karl
"Oh god, it's really happening," Elsa says, re-reading what little was written in the note, "who's the Butcher?"
"It's what men from other nations call Anna; reputations spread fast in these parts."
Elsa heart stops momentarily as the thought of Anna being the cause for this swirls around in her head. Over the past week, the girl had been sweet, and gentle to her despite her amnesia. To imagine Anna as some kind of villified figure outside of the Kingdom was simply unthinkable; she was too kind, too beautiful-
Too lovable.
"Why Anna?" Elsa asks.
The Captain and Colonel look at each other.
"Your Majesty, she killed Karl's entire family," the Colonel says, "to save you."
"That's….unfortunate," Elsa whispers, biting down on her lip as she contemplates making the most difficult decision of her reign. In an attempt to distract herself, she looks up at Gerda. Noticing the woman shifting away from her, Elsa spots a burlap sack held behind her back. She moves towards her, but Gerda jerks away, shaking her head.
"He left something else?" Elsa asks, "What's in the bag?"
Gerda's gaze drops to the ground as she fidgets in her place.
"It's...it's...a head," Gerda says, hesitating on her words, "of a child."
Elsa pauses on her sister's bedroom door, left slightly ajar in its usual state of a semi-welcome. She considers knocking, before edging it open and peeking inside. The room's disarray hasn't improved since the last time she visited, but at least the curtains are drawn; the sunshine making it appear tidier than it really is. Perched on a stool, the red-haired girl bites a paint brush between her teeth as she puts in gentle touches on a larger-than-life canvas taking up most of her room.
"Anna?" Elsa calls out, alerting the younger girl to her presence. Anna descends her stool and curtseys to her sister as she enters.
Elsa doesn't know if it's the room's warmth, or her sister's smile that's so welcoming, but her face betrays none of the emotion from earlier as she stands before the mural-like painting. Hues of black and purple swathe most of the canvas, representing the starry night. In the center, flanked by the a brilliant beam of light, Anna painted Elsa descending upon an ice-dragon towards her own own pale body lying upon the snowy ground; bruised and broken with streaks of blood fracturing across her face.
"You've been painting," Elsa whispers, knowing it depicted some event which had taken place in the past, but yet another one which deserted her memory.
"Yes, I doubt you'd remember it," Anna says, "but I do, and I'll never forget what it's like to be saved."
"You saved me too," Elsa mutters.
"It's different when someone tells you that," Anna says, looking away from her sister, "and another thing to feel it, everyday: the undying gratitude that you'll never be the same without them."
Elsa bunches up her hands and tries to steady to ache in her chest; afterall, this isn't what she came here for.
"Look, Anna, we need to talk-"
Anna bites her lip and nods, keeping her eyes on the carpet.
"Karl has invaded one of the border towns and he's asking for-"
"I know," Anna answers, swallowing hard, "I'm the Princess, aren't I? It's my duty to know."
"Well," Elsa sighs, seating herself on Anna's bed, "what do you think about it?"
Anna dips her gaze to her own figure lying in the snow, and laments, "We were all born to die anyway, and I should have, so many times."
"Look, Anna, you don't have to-"
"I'll go and meet him," Anna says, turning to Elsa and staring her in the eyes, "and maybe this time I'll do something right for once."
"It's not that simple!" Elsa exclaims with a clenched fist, before dropping her voice to a whisper, "He has the urn."
"The urn?" Anna asks.
"The urn of legends, no one knows it, but Karl found it in a monastery," Elsa says, rising to meet Anna's eyes, "the one people say was wrought to capture magic, to contain people like us."
"Well, then he'll use it against you, won't he?" Anna asks, running a hand through her hair, "And...and-"
"Anna, he's not after me," Elsa says, the urgency of her tone seeping through her voice,, "the prince is looking for revenge, he wants to use it to kill you."
The Princess looks at her sister's gloved hands; kept ungloved since she woke up, until now. Beneath the sunlight's warm glow, Anna wonders if the room is getting chilly because of Elsa, or if she's merely imagining it.
"Nothing's changed, he wanted to kill me then, he wants to kill me now," Anna says, starting for the door, "this whole thing started because of Hans, perhaps it's time I take responsibility for what I did in the past."
"No!" Elsa exclaims, catching hold of her sister's hand, "If you go, he wins! Arendelle would lose an heir and he'd be free to carry on his evil!"
"Let go of me!" Anna mutters, before breaking her sister's grasp. Her eyes widen at the ice left on her wrist.
"Ice?" Anna whispers, tracing her fingers along the frost, as though she needs to feel the cold coursing through her bones to believe it's real.
To believe she still cares.
"Pabbie told me you regained control of your powers, that things like this no longer happen-"
"I-I" Elsa stutters, staring into Anna's eyes, blue like the fjords and the life they represented for her Kingdom. She might be the Queen, the reigning head of Arendelle, but Anna stood for her lifeblood, without one or the other, nothing could exist.
"I'm just afraid you'll die needlessly," Elsa mutters, rubbing the frost building up upon her gloves, "and you know what a bastard Karl is, he won't stop at you. He won't stop until the Kingdom is crushed beneath his boot."
"Is that all I am to you?" Anna scowls, flicking away the ice on her wrist, "Another pawn in your diplomatic game?"
"What?" Elsa gasps, "No! The point is, I'm not letting you go there and get yourself killed without reason!"
"Well, it looks like you don't have a goddamned choice!" Anna shrieks, walking towards the door, "Unless you plan on seeing an entire town get slaughtered-"
Anna picks up the sword hanging by her closet, knowing well the reason behind her madness. She had tried, over the days and weeks, to get Elsa back, but it appeared that nothing had worked. The truth of Elsa's character was finally starting to seep through her fair skin, that she was as cold and calculative as her powers. Anna was the only good left inside her, and that was gone.
She knew there was nothing left for her here.
Anna reaches for the knob, only to have an icy cold bite into her fingers.
"Stop!" Elsa commands, blasting the door shut and freezing it in its place, "I'm not letting you go!"
With a grunt, Anna caves in the door with a kick, but in its place, Elsa casts a solid wall of ice. Undeterred, the Princess punches through the ice, sending shards flying everywhere.
"Listen to me!" Elsa yells, yanking Anna by the shoulder, "I'm your older sister! You do as you're told!"
"I don't need to take orders from you!" Anna shrieks, flicking away Elsa's arm, "All I wanted before dying was to know that my sister still loved me, and if that's not possible, then I guess I can fucking live with it, or die, or whatever!"
Elsa sucks in a gasp as more ice spreads across her hands, and sleet begins swirling around her, "Is this what it's all about?"
"Everything I've ever done was because of you," Anna answers with tears in her eyes,, ignoring the chill as she steps into the snowfall, "every joy, every hope, every despair I felt had your name written on it. What else could it be about?"
Anna grazes her fingers against Elsa's cheek, cold like Christmas morning. She smirks as a tinge of red spreads across her sister's skin, but whirls around to leave anyway. Without thinking, Elsa grabs Anna by the waist, sending them tumbling to the ground.
"Get off me!" Anna snarls, the snow breaking her fall.
"No," Elsa scowls, tightening her grasp on Anna's wrists, "I'm not letting you go without me."