The Head That Wears the Crown
Chapter Eighteen
Intervention
Anna peered around the corner of the hallway, scanning the corridor, absorbing as much information as she could. Quickly, she pulled back, taking care not to be spotted.
"Well?" Isarn asked. "What did you see?"
"Four large holding cells. About twenty men per cell. They look tired, but they don't appear to be injured."
Isarn nodded. "And the guards? What about the guards?"
"Yeah, well, they must not be particularly concerned about security," Anna said. "Four cells, one guard per cell."
"Are you sure about that?" Kristoff asked. "That hardly seems like enough guards. Are they that careless?"
"No," Isarn said. "They're merely overconfident."
"So, what do we do now?" Anna asked.
"You two will do nothing," Isarn said. "Leave this to me."
Before Anna or Kristoff could stop him, Isarn moved down the corridor with the air of a man with complete confidence in his actions.
The guards noticed Isarn as he approached the cells. The leader spoke. "Sir! We had no idea you were coming. Had we known—"
"You would have had the opportunity to correct your mistakes before I discovered them for myself!" Isarn snarled.
The guard was confused. "Mistakes, sir?"
"I have received disturbing reports that your security in this area is . . . lax, to say the least!" Isarn snapped. "I have had to interrupt my very busy schedule to personally come and investigate." He thrust his finger into the guard's face. "Do you have any idea how much work I am missing right now? You had better pray I don't find any problems!"
The guard was now truly terrified. "Sir, I . . . I can assure you that everything is under control!"
"I will be the judge of that!" Isarn moved to the first holding cell. "Open it!"
"Sir . . .?"
"Are you deaf and stupid, or just the latter?" Isarn roared. "I must investigate the conditions of this cell to make sure your prisoners cannot escape! Now, open the damn door!"
The guard glanced at his colleagues, who quickly averted their eyes, not wanting to subject themselves to Isarn's wrath. His hands shaking, he reached for the keys on his belt. So great was his terror that he dropped the keys on the floor.
That had done it. "Of all the incompetent, irresponsible, idiotic men that could have been selected for this post, they had to pick you!"
"Sir, please! There's no need to get upset!" The guard was quaking uncontrollably.
"Upset?" Isarn roared. "You think I'm upset? You haven't begun to see upset!" Isarn turned to all four of the guards. "I've seen enough! Your services are no longer required!"
"Sir, please, if you—"
A blast of arctic air erupted from Isarn, slamming the four guards against the wall. They slumped to the ground, unconscious. Isarn moved to each of the cell doors. As he touched them, each door quickly frosted over, growing colder and colder until the bars snapped like twigs.
The soldiers within the cells turned to each other, unsure of what had just happened.
"Gentlemen," Isarn said, turning to the confused Arendelle soldiers. "I have a proposition for you."
Elsa had lost track of how long she had been left alone in the throne room. She had long since run out of tears to cry. Rather, she sat chained to the throne, alone with her thoughts. A thin layer of frost coated the walls of the throne room, a visible manifestation of her despair.
Once again, as she had done several times for the past few hours, she strained against the chains, hoping that somehow, someway, she would be able to free herself from her bonds. Screaming, she unleashed all the strength she had left within her body, willing the chains to break with all her might.
But once more, nothing happened. She was still trapped, still imprisoned. Still alone.
"You might want to stop struggling, Majesty," came a voice from behind.
Elsa couldn't see his face, but she knew who the speaker was. "So, you've come back," she whispered. "What do you want now?"
Asgard circled the throne, stopping in front of the imprisoned monarch. "I was merely . . . interested in ensuring that your accommodations are to your satisfaction, Majesty."
"I've had better," Elsa said. "I've had worse, too." She recalled her imprisonment not long ago in the palace dungeon. That was unpleasant, she thought.
The corners of Asgard's lips curled into a smile. "That is exactly why I wanted to come back to you, Snow Queen," he said. "Our information on you was most certainly accurate. Not only are you beautiful, you are also quick-witted and intelligent. A rare combination . . . particularly in a woman."
"Maybe among your people, Asgard," Elsa said. "But the women of Arendelle are notorious for their sharp tongues."
Asgard laughed. "True, Majesty. Very true, indeed." He paused. "I've noticed you've made no effort to beg for your release. Surprising."
"What's the point?" Elsa whispered. "You wouldn't let me go anyway, so why should I waste my breath?"
Asgard leaned in toward Elsa's face. "You know, for a woman who has suffered the emotional trauma you've been through today, I must say, you are doing an excellent job of maintaining your composure."
That had struck a nerve. Conceal! Conceal! Conceal!
Asgard could smell blood in the water, and he pressed his advantage. "I mean, let's be honest, Elsa; may I call you Elsa?" Without waiting for a response, Asgard continued. "In the span of a week, you discover that the man you believed was your father your entire life wasn't really your father at all. You then find out your real father wants to take over your kingdom. And when you finally meet him, and you think you might have the slightest of possibilities of building a relationship with him, he betrays you! Oh, the humanity!" Asgard covered his face with his hand in mock anxiety.
The frost on the walls grew thicker. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Elsa bit her lip, fighting with all her strength to maintain control, but finding it progressively more and more difficult to do so.
Asgard noticed and grinned wickedly. "Did you actually think Isarn could possibly love you? You may be his daughter, but that means nothing to him. I've known Isarn for a very, very long time. The only thing that matters to him is revenge upon Arendelle, at any cost. And if that means he has to break his daughter's heart along the way to get what he wants, well, then, that's just the way things have to be."
Asgard moved closer to Elsa. "But you will find I'm not like that at all. Unlike Isarn, I can be . . . quite pleasant to be around. In fact, while we're alone, I suppose we should become better . . . acquainted with each other. Isarn said to look, not to touch, but . . . what he doesn't know won't hurt him."
Alarms sounded in Elsa's head. She began to struggle against the chains once more, this time with a new sense of desperation.
"What's the matter, Elsa?" Asgard asked, his face inches from Elsa's. "Do you have something better to do with your time?"
"Stay away from me," Elsa whispered, her struggles against her bonds increasing.
"Ah, but Elsa, you don't even know if you'll like it or not. Shouldn't you at least try first?"
Without warning, Asgard leaned forward and kissed Elsa, his mouth smothering her own.
Terrified, Elsa screamed, her voice lost as Asgard forced himself on top of her. His hands began to trace down her side toward her waist, no longer caring if the queen consented or not.
NOOOOOOO! Ice exploded from Elsa, throwing Asgard off of her at high velocity. He slid across the throne room floor and collided violently with one of the many chairs that filled the hall.
Asgard groaned, slowly pulling himself to his feet. His humiliation slowly gave way to anger and rage. "Once again, Majesty, you seem to have a serious problem playing nice with others."
Asgard slowly ascended the steps to the throne once more. "Is this the real reason they call you the 'snow queen'? Because you're frigid inside—everywhere?"
Asgard leaned in front of Elsa. "I am not a man accustomed to not getting what he wants," he snarled. "If I want you, I will have you, whenever I desire. Do you understand?!"
"No," Elsa said, staring back as Asgard. "You will not! You have no right!"
Asgard roared and slapped Elsa once more across the face. "I will have you! The longer you resist, the more painful it will be for you!"
Elsa embraced the pain in her face, using it to strengthen her resolve. She lifted her head high once more, staring Asgard down. "You may succeed in taking me. I may not be able to stop you. But you will never earn my devotion. You will only get what you desire by force. I could never willingly offer myself to you."
Asgard was beside himself. "You forget to whom you speak!" he roared. "I am Asgard, second-in-command of my people! I have killed for them! I will make you suffer for your insolence!"
Elsa glared at Asgard, her face triumphant. "Go ahead, Asgard. But remember. I am the Snow Queen. And snow does not melt easily. Especially when the person trying to melt it is nothing more than a pale imitation of a man. A coward who rules through fear rather than wisdom."
How dare she?! Asgard was about to strike Elsa once more when a loud boom echoed throughout the throne room. "What in the—"
Asgard opened the throne room doors and gasped. Pandemonium filled the hallway. His guardians were engaged in battle with what remained of Arendelle's soldiers. How did they escape the dungeon? he thought. "Fight them!" he screamed. "Don't let them through!"
Suddenly, Asgard felt himself lifted from the floor, fingers clutching his neck tightly, removing his air supply. Once again, he was thrown across the throne room. Groaning, he lifted his head and gasped. "Isarn?! What . . . What are you doing?!"
Isarn stared at Asgard, his face twisted in uncontrollable rage. "You have crossed the line, Asgard!" he snarled. "You have hurt my daughter! I will not permit you to escape the consequences of your actions!"
Asgard stared at Isarn, dumbfounded. "What about the plan?! You have everything you wanted! Arendelle is ours! We have our vengeance! What are you doing?!"
Isarn advanced upon Asgard. "I have found something more precious than vengeance, Asgard. And I will not permit you to destroy it!"
Asgard laughed in disbelief. "You stupid, sentimental old fool! Everything we've worked so hard for! You're going to throw it all away for that?" He turned to Elsa, still shackled to the throne.
"If that's what it takes," Isarn whispered, his voice colder than ice itself.
"Well, then," Asgard said. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that."
Asgard's fingers glowed blue, the ice awaiting his command. Isarn's hands did likewise. The two opponents stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move.
"Shall we begin?"
AN: More on the way. Soon.