Chapter Eleven: Trials and Troubles
As Alphonse led Anna and Kristoff through the gates of Arendelle Castle, he continued what he had been saying before. "Remember, Princess Anna, no experimenting. At least not without a trained foundation. Pushing your limits, especially undefined ones, can be incredibly dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."
"How do you know what you're doing?" Anna quickly asked, hoping for insight into Alphonse's past. The mage chuckled at the question, a half-smile on his face (Anna realized she had never seen him really smile.)
"Nice try, Princess. I'll tell that story in my own time." He hummed in thought. "Suffice it to say, it was not a pleasant experience." Anna's eyes widened in surprise, but she let it pass. However he had been taught, Anna felt that Alphonse himself would be a great teacher.
"Uh, guys?" Kristoff said, his tone nervous. Both looked forward to find Elsa standing in the hall, her arms crossed and a familiar icy cast to her features. Alphonse may not have recognized it, but Anna and Kristoff certainly did. Elsa was not happy.
"Anna, Kristoff, leave us," Elsa said, her faux-calm tone belying the clear order. The couple hesitated only a split-second before darting away. Alphonse sighed in resignation before facing the Snow Queen.
"Can I help you, Queen Elsa?" he asked, voice heavy with formality. Gone was the warmth from that morning, replaced only with grim solemnness. The queen slowly and deliberately approached the mage, the only change in her expression being the intensity in her gaze. She stopped right in front of him, glaring unblinkingly into his mismatched eyes.
"Why are you here, Alphonse?" Elsa asked. The mage's eyebrow rose in mild confusion.
"I'm here to help, if at all possible," he answered simply. Elsa's eyes narrowed and the temperature of the room dropped like a stone; Alphonse felt a slight wriggle of dread worm through his gut. He had faced down monsters that would make the bravest of men weep in fear, but facing down the Snow Queen was something entirely different.
"I mean, why are you here? What do you plan to accomplish by helping me, my sister, or my people?" Elsa asked, voice as cold as the room.
"Why are you asking me?" Alphonse responded. "You've been keen on my help for days now, and you choose this moment to grow suspicious?" Alphonse's tone may have been sarcastic, but inside he was genuinely confused. And if he were completely honest, a little hurt. After everything they had face in the last week, did he not earn some trust?
"Not when my little sister is in danger," Elsa said.
"What did you see?" Elsa asked, forcing down her instinctual panic. She had to think clearly if she were to react to this revelation in the best way.
"I saw the princess on the ground, surrounded by blood. Standing above her was a man in a dark cloak, his hands stained with red, a sneer on his face, and a mad gleam in ... mismatched eyes." Elsa's blood went cold, as if her magic had finally learned to affect her.
"Are you certain? Elsa asked. The mismatched eyes could only be Alphonse, but that made no sense! Why would he hurt Anna when he had saved Arendelle twice, and Anna herself at least once? Unless … no, it couldn't be …
"I've heard rumors," Ester whispered, "of a sorcerer living in the Castle of Arendelle?" Elsa felt her insides writhe at the very thought. Alphonse was no malicious sorcerer, he was … he was … What was he? What did she really know about the man? He had wandered into the castle after destroying a horde of undead monsters, and Elsa had just let it happen.
Could it be that Alphonse was the sorcerer? Had he set it all up to look like a hero, to win the love of Arendelle? Elsa felt bitterness rise within her chest as she remembered one crucial fact: a man, a different man, had done something fearfully similar before. And he had left her sister to die and tried to kill Elsa herself.
Elsa felt tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes. Pain lanced through her heart. Why was she reacting this way? Elsa stood, poised as ever, and thanked Ester before turning to leave.
"Captain, keep an eye on the town. Inform me immediately if Alphonse returns." The captain nodded and hurried off to enact his orders. Elsa strode away, planning on how to confront her supposed savior.
Elsa watched carefully for any change in Alphonse's expression, any twitch, blush, or other tell that would reveal ulterior motives. And yet even with her practiced eye, she saw nothing give.
"Why would you think that Princess Anna is in any danger?" Alphonse asked, concern underlying his even tone.
"What do you know of foresight?" Elsa asked, hoping to throw him off. "The power to see, truly see, the future?"Alphonse's eyes widened at the unexpected question.
"Queen Elsa, a skill like that has not manifested in three generations. Though," he added off-handedly, "that streak may be broken with your sister, given her recent dream." Elsa felt anger rise in her chest.
"This not a joke, Alphonse! If that is even your real name. Are you here to hurt my sister? And don't think of lying, I will know if you do." It was a half-bluff, but he didn't need to know that. Alphonse drew closer, their faces parted by less than an inch, and looked the queen dead in the eye.
"No," was all he said. Elsa grit her teeth in frustration. Damn it all, he was telling the truth. She felt his sincerity in her gut, in her heart, in her very soul! But what did this mean? Was Ester's vision wrong?! And on that note, she realized, why did she trust this woman's supposed vision so strongly, as opposed to the man who had saved her family three times now?
"What is this about, Elsa?" Alphonse asked, ignoring the pulsing throb in his chest. Why was he feeling this way? She was just a woman he barely knew. Why was this accusation hurting him?
Elsa closed her eyes with a sigh, breaking eye contact and surrendering their unspoken dual. "A woman washed up on shore last night. She was brought in by one of the guards to the infirmary. I spoke to her earlier today and she claimed to have magic, to be able to see tragedies in the future. She had a vision of a man with mismatched eyes killing Anna." Elsa looked up into those mismatched eyes. "Why would she see that?!" Elsa was almost begging, begging to know the truth. To understand why this had happened.
Alphonse's eyes narrowed in thought. He pushed aside the thought that Elsa would trust a literally complete stranger over him (how was he any different, really?) and considered this mysterious woman. A whisper of insight, intuition born of his sacrifice so long ago, lanced through his mind.
"Elsa, did this woman have any unusual markings? Particularly around the eyes or the lips?" Elsa stepped back in surprise at the question, considering her answer.
"She had a small mole at the corner of her mouth," she answered unsurely. Alphonse went white as a ghost, grip so tight around his staff that his knuckles turned the same.
"The princess is in danger," he said shortly and bolted away. Elsa followed, fear gripping her heart. What had she done?
Anna followed Kristoff to the gardens, worry itching under her skin. She didn't doubt Alphonse's talents in any way, but Elsa was a force to be reckoned with when angry. Even without her powers lashing out, Elsa was determined and intelligent, which could be a dangerous combination on the rare occasions she was mistaken. She rarely let a stance go unless proven absolutely wrong. She hoped Alphonse was ready to handle something like that.
"Don't worry about Alphonse," Kristoff said, taking his wife's hand. "He's a smart guy, I'm sure he'll be fine." Anna smiled at her husband, thankful for his assurance. Then her thoughts wandered to what he had told her on the way back to the castle.
"So what's in the box?" Anna asked. While Kristoff had told the story of how he acquired it, and from whom, he had neglected to mention exactly what it was. In answer, Kristoff merely shrugged and rubbed the back of his head.
"I didn't open it. I … I wanted you to be there when I did." Kristoff blushed at his own words, unsure how that would sound, even from her husband. Anna smiled and wrapped her arms around Kristoff's with a loving smile. She was happy he had thought of her.
As they entered the garden, Anna paused at the sight of what could only be Kristoff's box nestled under an oak tree. It was a bulky thing, built entirely of dark metal and appeared to be sealed tighter than anything she had ever seen. Kristoff drew her near and knelt, Anna following.
Kristoff removed a length of woven leather, a bracelet strung with two iron rings, and fastened it around his wrist. He ran his hands over the box, searching for a latch or lever. Anything that might open it. Eventually, he found a catch underneath the lip of the chest's lid and pressed it. Something clicked and a mechanical grinding emanated from the box, like gears turning.
Anna and Kristoff traded a glance as the grinding continued for a good minute before ending, the lid of the chest lifting ever-so-slightly. Kristoff opened the chest to reveal … what on earth?
The box held a hammer, completely built from stone. The handle was short and wrapped in leather, the head bulky and the top sloping up to come to a point, almost in the shape of a crown.
"A hammer?" Kristoff asked and took hold of it. Kristoff hissed as he felt a shock come from the tool. His bracelet fell off and grew into a full-length belt, small metal disks sewn into the leather. The rings grew into a pair of metal-backed fingerless leather gloves, studs sewn into the knuckles. Seized by an instinct he hadn't realized was there, Kristoff quickly fastened on the belt and gloves.
As Anna watched this happen, idly thinking that growing accessories really didn't surprise her anymore, she felt a sharp sense of dread crawl down her spine. She glanced back to find a woman slowly approaching, one hand behind her back. Anna stood up, suddenly uncomfortable, and palmed a stick from the ground and hiding it behind her back.
"Hi," she said brightly, hoping to cover her inexplicable rising anxiety. "Who're you? I'm Anna. I mean - I guess 'Princess' Anna, but I really don't care about titles and all that stuff. What's your name? I mean, I know every member of the staff by name so you can't be one of them - unless you're new, so welcome if you are and if you aren't, uh-" She knew she was rambling, but at least it distracted her.
The woman smiled, the light from the setting sun making her skin seem to burn, but it was far from a calming smile. This look was … malevolent, predatory. And … scarily familiar. The woman removed something from behind her back, revealing a leaf-bladed short sword. "Princess," she said lowly.
And in that moment, the woman Shifted, just like Alphonse would (though it was more like flames spreading than ripples in a pond), and settled into a new shape. A familiar, unwelcome shape. The shape of Hans Westergard.
"Hello, Anna," Hans greeted, his lips curled in a harsh sneer. Anna gasped at the small scars that lined the prince's lips, as if … as if his lips had been sewn shut, just like …
"…Loki," Anna whispered, face pale.
"Yes?" Hans asked, voice suddenly a bit higher, with an edge of madness. His eyes had changed color to a lighter green with yellow mixed in (how Anna noticed that, she couldn't say). Anna gasped as Kristoff rose and moved in front of her in one smooth motion, the hammer from his box held out before him.
Hans paused in his approach and laughed cruelly, the sound seeming to warp as if two people were laughing. "Please, man-troll, don't embarrass yourself. Without proper instruction it's just a lump of stone and metal." He lifted the blade in his hand. "Unlike this." Hans flicked his wrist and Kristoff was jerked to the side by a blast of wind to collapse against the ground.
Hans resumed his approach, his smile fading into a look of disappointment. "That's the man you settled on after me? Really, Anna, I thought you had better taste than that." He gestured vaguely in Kristoff's direction, derision dripping from his words and his eyes never leaving hers.
Anna felt anger blossom within her. No one talked about her husband like that! She felt something bloom in the back of her consciousness, like a glowing candle flame. Hans scoffed, twirling his short sword between his fingers as if it were a thin reed and not a long piece of metal. He paused and lunged forward into a downward swing.
On instinct forged from years of practice, Anna blocked with the branch she had picked up. Blocking at an angle, the sword bit into the wood of her improvised club and Hans grabbed her wrist, keeping them close together. Anna's eyes widened as her weapon began to turn black, flakes breaking off and the wood crumbling. On impulse, Anna forced her head forward, smashing into Hans's nose, and jerking way as he clutched at his face.
Anna leapt away and scooped up another branch, readying herself. Hans removed his hand from his nose, revealing nothing wrong aside from a small dribble of blood. "As impetuous as always, eh Anna? Just like your predecessor." His voice was lighter again, as were his eyes. What was happening to him?
Anna's gaze flicked to his sword, shining like a torch in the evening light. She noticed an engraving along the blade, like some kind of vine. Hans smiled and held up his sword as if offering a better look.
"Like it? Took me ages it find the summoning for it after I woke up. Or wait," Hans seemed to think his words over, "after he woke up. Yes, that's-" Hans shot forward like lightning, Anna barely having time to dodge. The mad prince kept coming, his style chaotic and unpredictable. After only a few minutes, Anna was panting, all her concentration on anticipating his moves and batting them aside.
Anna ducked and swung out her legs, scything Hans's feet out from under him. In the same motion, she rolled away and back onto her feet, psyching herself up. She was scared, she had to admit, but she wouldn't back down. Not now, not ever! As Anna charged forward, she absently felt a comforting warmth run down her arms. Hans blocked her strike, his sword's edge digging into her weapon. But unlike last time, nothing happened. The scores and scratches from their duel, black with rot, remained the same - but nothing spread anymore. And the grain of branch was glowing, just like Anna's skin.
Hans grimaced and pulled away, leaping back to plan for this development. Damn it all, Odin's new form had begun to teach her. Really, he should have expected that. Odin had always been pragmatic, and teaching Freya's Residuum was the perfect way to gain an ally, one strong in magic. Then there was the Snow Queen, whose power came from the cosmos and not from rebirth.
As Hans prepared to engage again, he heard an ominous crackling. Blades of ice sprung from the ground in a speeding line, forcing Hans to conjure a whirlwind to raise him above it. He landed some distance away and growled in frustration. The Snow Queen and Alphonse (so the castle staff had called him when he asked in his disguise) had arrived. How had his Persuasion on the queen worn off so soon? Surely she should be trying to kill the cloaked mage by now.
Alphonse, wrapped in a familiarly-styled blue cloak, glared at him with barely-controlled fury. And that was a torch before a fire pit compared to the hatred in Elsa's eyes. And as if to mock him, now the mountain man was getting up, holding that thrice-damned hammer in a tight grip and glaring with fierce venom (Hans flinched at that term, memories not his own rising up).
"Well," Hans said with a calm smile, "I've enjoyed catching up, but I've got things to do and plans to enact." He gave a mock salute and Shifted into a falcon. "Ta-ta, everyone." Hans took off and made it a few yards before screeching in pain at something catching his foot. A thin, silvery ribbon was wrapped around his ankle, the other end in Alphonse's hands. The mage glowed for a moment, a glow visible only to Hans, and shot something from his outstretched hand. The thing - a spear of light? - struck Hans in the chest and the ribbon fell away, letting him escape.
As Hans fled, he felt the pain in his chest intensify, the sensation spreading across his body like cracks in stone. He lost control of himself and shifted back to human form. And then he fell. Hans resisted the urge to scream and channeled his mortal panic into focus, Shifting again just long enough to flaps his wings and avoid the full impact of hitting the ground.
After smashing through the trees and landing in the grass, he returned to human shape. The prince rose with a groan and looked himself over. He tried to Shift, to take on a new undamaged form, but it was like a wall had been set up in his mind.
"What is happening?" Hans growled. He grimaced, covering his face with a gloved hand, and laughed.
"It seems the mage has dexterity as well as power, young prince," he giggled, voice once again higher.
Hans shook his head. "What has he done to me?" He waited for a reply, eyes darting across the trees as if they would give him answers. "Well?!" he shouted, before gasping.
"He's placed a binding charm on you, sealing away our magic." Hans placed a hand on his chin. "That's quite impressive given he's Untried. It took Odin his Sacrifice to learn to string together runes like that. Seems the boy was quite motivated. But by what, I wonder?" Hans grit his teeth.
"How do we break it. This 'binding'?" the prince growled. He grimaced and laughed again, the sound echoing from the forest around them.
"That's the laughy part, boy. We can't! Not in this condition, at least. But don't get your trousers in a twist. It's temporary, maybe lasts three days or so." He paused and thought their circumstances over. "Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. The boy knows he has time. We can use this to prepare, to conjure another attack!" He cackled again before falling to his knees to retch into the grass.
"Wait, if he sealed away our power, then how are you still here?" Hans asked himself. He groaned and stumbled to lean against a tree, giggling to himself.
"Because contacting me, contacting yourself, is no longer an act of magic. We are one, young prince, one and the same." He laughed and cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cackled.
"Am I mad?" Hans asked, his voice no higher than a whisper. He grinned, lips stretched in a mad grimace.
"Oh, Hans, my man. You didn't need me for that. And don't you know? Genius and madness are but a hair's breadth apart." Hans collapsed against a birch, giggling to himself in a double-layered voice, tears streaming down his cheeks and cunning mind working furiously. What was he to do now with his spare time?
Alphonse wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched Hans fly away, the faux-falcon's flight-path shaky. He felt himself start to tumble as dizziness set in. Kristoff caught him, bracing the mage as he regained his balance.
"Um, Alphonse," Anna said tentatively, "you've got a little-" She gestured to her nose. Alphonse wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand, which came back stained with red.
"Well, that can't be good," he muttered to himself, grimacing as searing pain lanced through his skull. Elsa walked around Anna and covered her palm with frost, applying the makeshift cold compress against Alphonse's head.
"We need to get the doctor-" she began.
"No!" Alphonse interrupted, "I'll be fine. Jus-Just give me a moment." Kristoff lowered the mage to the ground. Alphonse took a few deep breaths to center himself. After a few moments, the migraine faded into a dull throbbing, a reminder of his foolishness. Perhaps he should take his own advice about not experimenting with his limits?
Alphonse opened his eyes to see everyone gathered around, gazing at him with identical looks of concern. Even Elsa, who seemed just past her calm facade to be on the verge of tears. Alphonse tried to keep his expression clear despite the growing feeling of warmth rising in his chest. He cleared his throat and stood, bracing himself on his staff.
"What did you do to Hans?" Anna asked, screaming in awe and curiosity. Alphonse grimaced at her volume.
"It was a Binding Charm. It was a string of runes that will seal away his powers, at least temporarily. Should last a few days." Alphonse rubbed at his temples, willing his headache away (though, really, that just made it worse). "Kristoff, was there something you wanted to show us?" he asked. Alphonse hated himself for throwing the ice harvester into the spotlight, but he couldn't bear much more of the outright concern in his friend's' faces. Wait, he had friends?
Kristoff held out the hammer he had been hiding behind his back, almost like a guilty child. Alphonse's eyes widened at the sight of it, memories from Before rushing to the front of his mind. "Where did you get that?" Alphonse asked, uncaring of the awe in his voice.
Kristoff blushed and rubbed the back of his head, dropping the hammer that landed with an unusually loud thud. "I, uh, Pabbie told me to go to a cave in the mountains and there were two old guys in there. One was already gone and the other was close. He told me to take the chest it was in and 'protect my love'." He glanced at Anna and looked away, blush growing. Anna giggled.
"Do you know what that is?" Alphonse asked, his headache forgotten. Anna and Kristoff shook their heads.
"Mjolnir," Elsa said, voice deceivingly calm. Alphonse lifted an eyebrow in surprise and nodded. He reached into himself, careful to avoid anything too strenuous, and embraced the rune for ancestor.
Anna gasped as she saw a faint glow around Alphonse, a slight tingling over her skin like she were reacting to Alphonse's powers. The mage took Kristoff's hand and forced him to touch the hammer's top, forging a link to it and the one who had used it Before. The one who still held a bond with it, even in another life.
Kristoff gasped as he felt something surge within him, reacting to the hammer. Alphonse saw, briefly, an image over Kristoff's skin like he had with Anna. He saw a large man, even larger than Kristoff, with wild red hair bound by a leather headband, an even more wild beard tied under the chin. Icy blue eyes gazed with raw intensity from a scarred face. The man was dressed in wool clothes with a leather vest and boots, iron gloves on his hands and a thick belt around his waist.
This was Thor, the champion of Man and slayer of monsters. This being, so different from the blonde, quiet ice harvester, was Kristoff's Remnant.
Alphonse allowed Kristoff to drop the hammer, which landed with a deep thud. The mage backed away, thoughts whirling over this development. Really, should he be surprised? It was far too much of a coincidence that Anna was a Residuum for the man she had fallen for, that Fate had joined to her, to not be one himself.
The real problem was that he didn't have time to teach both of them the relatively little he could. It impressed upon him how lucky (relatively speaking) that Hugin and Munin had been there to teach him his skills inherited from Odin. But Anna and Kristoff didn't have their Remnants to teach them the subtle nuances of who they had been before. Unless …
"Alphonse, what's wrong," Elsa asked, a hand on his shoulder. Upon glancing at her, she removed it as if she had been burned, but he felt warmth where she had touched him. Alphonse buried that observation and focused on the task at hand.
"Just thinking," he said evasively.
"About teaching us?" Anna asked, grinning widely. Wow. Underneath the energetic and impulsive surface, Anna was quite sharp. Alphonse grimaced before trying to explain.
"Anna, I can't teach you both." Anna's face fell and Kristoff took a step back in surprise. "It's not that I don't want to, I really do," he assured, "but I literally don't have the time. Besides," he paused, searching for the right words, "I can't even teach Anna any more than the basics of what she needs, much less Kristoff how to use Mjolnir." His admission was met with silence. That is, until Anna posed the question that a part of him had been most dreading.
"What about a shortcut?" the princess asked. "You said there's always a shortcut." Alphonse grit his teeth in regret. Why? Why had he let that tiny, devastating piece of information slip? He rubbed his closed eyes, which felt heavier by the second.
"There is, but I don't-" Without thinking, Alphonse reached up to catch something that fell from the sky. He looked up to see two specks of black against the red-hued sky, flying into the distance. The mage bit back a string of verbal and literal curses.
"And now I do," he corrected, opening his hand to reveal a clutch of large, vibrant-red berries. He gestured to the castle. "I assume you're going to ignore my warnings, so let's get moving."
New chap. Hope you liked the battle. What's in store for our heroes? Read, review, and find out next time!