#93 Ice

A/N: based in the fantasy AU established in chapters 37, 56, and 89. They're not in any particular order but if you know DN you can follow what's happening. Please message me if anything here doesn't make sense.

Lightning struck one of the turrets on the stone parapet and left a scar of black scorches across the cold stone. The rain lashed at the two figures.

A man, tall and possibly once handsome, wearing the garnet robes of a king. Across from him, a boy, a boy in silver armour, a white cape blowing behind him in the storm, his pearly hair stuck to his thin scalp.

The sword in his hand bore the emblem of King L, the last true king of this land. The man in his robes was nothing but an usurper, an evil enchanter who had stolen the king's life and crown with one deft scribble in the magic tome he even now carried.

"Your Knights have abandoned you." The white-haired boy hissed. "Your Queen has been slain. We have your apprentice, driven mad by your magic, and Princess Misa has been captured. There is no-one left to help you."

The false king laughed. "You don't realise, Sir Near, that I still have many card up my sleeve. You really believe that your silly blade will turn aside my flesh?"

Sir Near scowled and swung the blade casually in slow circles. "This blade was given to me by the true King. How appropriate it is for me to slay you now and take back the crown that is mine by right."

King Light chuckled lowly, his eyes flickered onto the malevolent shape of the Reaper beside him. "What of the Archer and the Mage? I killed them both, what makes you believe that you will be any more able to end my reign?"

Sir Near flinched slightly. Mello and Matt, L's other two chosen heirs to the throne. A blonde archer with unparalleled skills, a young and gentle mage who followed his friend into the grave. They should not have died the way they had, Matt pierced in hundreds of arrows, dead in the gutter next to the corpse of his horse. Mello burnt to death in the hiding place of a holy building, alongside Lady Takada.

Near thrust the blade forwards, striking the false king's quill from his hand. Light screamed in rage but the young swordsman was moving fast, his swipes with the sword were precise and clear, slicing from the fake king his enchanted book, then the ermine cloak, and finally his blade rested on the man's neck.

Near was shaking with rage. Light was panting with terror. He swallowed hard.

"You won't kill me, boy." He snarled. "You don't have the strength of character to kill someone. You don't have the ice in your viens."

Near growled. "…I shall not kill you, but not because I do not wish to. I shall not kill you because it is not what King L would have wanted. The right thing to do is to throw you into your own dungeons." He lowered the blade. "Light Yagami, as the heir apparent to L's throne, I hereby place you under arrest. Enough ice for you, your majesty?" he finished with a sarcastic bow.

Light snarled, his head twisted to the dark angel that stood by watching. With a snarl he commanded. "Ryuk! I have never asked anything of you before! Kill this boy now! Kill him and all others who would take this kingdom from me!"

The creature chuckled lowly.

Sir Near eyed the beast. His sword tensed against Light's neck, but he did not stroke. Something was wrong.

Lightning illuminated the creature's face briefly, and Light saw with mounting terror that it was grinning far too cheerfully.

"All right, your majesty." Ryuk giggled, and turned his own enchanted notebook to the fallen king.

The swordsman and the false god read it together.

Light screamed, all thought of the sword gone, his hands grasped at the reaper's clothes, begging and pleading, screaming to the heavens that he didn't want to die.

Ryuk simply took to the raging sky, giggling.

The false king crawled after him, incoherent with rage and fear, he stood no chance of seeing the edge of the parapet.

Near looked away as the deranged man fell. He dropped the silvery blade and felt the rain on his face.

There was something, he knew, that still needed to be done. His grey eyes flickered to a golden shape on the stone floor. He lifted it up.

The crown. Of course he knew there would have to be a ceremony, he would have to be crowned properly, with all the pomp and circumstance the event required. But for now, for now it was enough to lift the golden circlet and rest it atop his pearl curls.

It was too big and he could tell it would slip awfully on his small head, it would need adjusting before the coronation, but the important part was done now. The crown that had been his mentor's was finally on the right head. Of course, ideally the kingdom would have been shared, between him and the bright blonde Archer, who had probably loved it more than any other man.

He picked his sword up and walked slowly back to the stairs that would take him to the throne room.