Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Last Day of Peace
The first light of dawn the next morning was blocked out by rain clouds, thunder echoing across the fjord with no accompanying lightning. Alphonse didn't need to ask the still-sleeping Kristoff if it was his work; he knew it was natural. But rain or shine, they had one day left of Kvasir's Peace and he intended to use it for one last task. He had to find the location of the new Vigridr, the field where the forces of this Second Ragnarok would meet.
As he finished brushing down Askvader, the supernatural horse gently munching on honied oats in exchange for braving this weather, Alphonse sensed a familiar presence behind him. One that brought a smile to his face.
"Elsa," the mage greeted. Elsa smiled and approached to wrap her arms around his chest in a hug, his own hands gently encircling her waist in turn. They stood there for a few moments simply soaking in each others' presences. But Elsa had come with a more specific purpose and she gently pulled away.
"Do you know where you'll start?" she asked. Alphonse thought it over and shrugged.
"I have a few ideas, but none really stick out. Why?" Elsa smiled and handed him a map of the northern countries, from Corona to Arendelle and beyond. Adorning the map was a series of markings that resembled crossed swords, totalling five. He couldn't help but notice that each of them corresponded to the site of a Scion.
"Anna drew that up last night. She's apparently been making progress in Dreaming specifics of the future. She thought it might get you home sooner." The pink rising in the queen's cheeks showed that wasn't solely Anna's intent. Alphonse smiled and gently rolled up the parchment before placing it in his cloak. When he looked up, he was surprised to see something else in Elsa's hands. A box?
"What's this?" he asked. Elsa grinned with a touch of mischief.
"Something you've been missing since the moment we met," she explained. Alphonse lifted an eyebrow in question and decided to open the box. As he removed the contents, his eyes widened in surprise. In his hands was a charcoal-grey wide-brimmed hat. Alphonse glanced down at his cloak and smiled at the joke. Odin's ensemble when roaming the Earth had been a cloak and hat. Alphonse looked up meet Elsa's eyes and, with as much suave as he could manage, put the hat on. Elsa placed her fingers to her chin, eyes narrowed in mock scrutiny, before adjusting the position and smiling.
"Very dapper," she complimented before giggling. Alphonse laughed with her before gently taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss.
"I'll be back soon," he promised. Elsa nodded and kissed his cheek before he mounted Askvader and rode into the downpour. He lifted his spear and, in a flash of green light, was gone. Elsa took a breath and turned to join her advisory council and Arendelle's aldermen for an emergency meeting.
This was going to be a long day.
As Alphonse had set off to survey battlefields and Elsa was bogged down with arranging the affairs of Arendelle should anything happen to her or Anna, said princess was sitting in one of the covered patios of the castle gardens, listening to the rain. And more importantly, to the impassioned strumming of Kristoff's lute.
Anna had always liked the fact that Kristoff could play an instrument. It had actually been the first thing that had shown her he was far more than the gruff thug she had originally thought in Oaken's shop. He had never told her exactly who had taught him to play, but had hinted at a mystical origin. After a while Anna had stopped asking, content to simply enjoy the skill of her husband.
As Kristoff began a new song, Anna's peaceful smile turned into a pensive frown as she thought she heard … accompaniment? The music grew louder, revealing someone walking through the rain with a violin, harmonizing with her husband's lute. Kristoff's strumming halted in its tracks as he saw the figure, eyes wide in recognition.
Eventually the still-playing figure entered the cover of the patio, allowing the princess to get a good look at him. The man was quite tall and thin, his frame angular like an old tree. His muscles, however, were quite defined, showing it was his natural build rather than sickness or starvation. He had blonde hair, sandy like a river's edge, that extended to his waist and was tied at the nape of his neck. His skin was lightly tanned and his lips thin. His eyes were the palest blue she had ever seen.
"Kristoff," the man greeted with a nod and a smile. Kristoff laughed and shook the man's hand (the man wincing in pain) in a display of friendliness that Anna had never seen from her husband. The man looked to Anna with another smile. "And this lovely creature must be the famous Anna," he observed, holding out his hand. Anna hesitated for only a brief moment before shaking.
As soon as she took his hand, Anna felt her magic flare inside her. She felt the lap of river waves around her ankles, heard the gurgle of a creek, saw the swirling eddies of water as they fell down a waterfall. The sensations only lasted a moment before her magic retreated into dormancy, but it was enough.
"You're a Nokken," she said. The man's smile faded into a tight frown, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly before he let go with a faint sigh.
"I remain uncorrupted, Your Majesty." Her title was spoken with a hint of bitterness. Kristoff's hand on his shoulder and a warning look brought the man's subdued temper down, but he still remained sullen.
"Anna," Kristoff said, "this is Fell." Fell nodded. "He's a Fossegrim, a spirit of rivers and waterfalls and music. Nokken are the corrupted forms of Fossegrim, and to be accused of being corrupted is a grave insult in the Ashland community."
Anna's hands flew to her mouth in embarrassment before she started babbling apologies. She was at it for a good three minutes, her usual Anna-type chatter kicking in before Fell burst out laughing, his smile back in place.
"Your stories didn't do the princess justice, Kristoff. I can see why you fell for her." Anna stopped mid-sentence at Fell's confession, her eyes darting to Kristoff. The ice harvester had the decency to look bashful. Only after her chattering ended did a piece of legend click in her mind.
"You're Kristoff's music teacher." It was a statement, not a question. Legend went that a Fossegrim could be persuaded to teach its supernatural musical skills in exchange for an offering of food. Usually well-cooked lamb or beef that was tossed into the waterfall in which they lived. It was said that if the offering was mediocre, they would only teach you how to tune your instrument. But if the offering was satisfactory, they would teach you … in their own way.
"Kristoff? Can I see your fingers?" Anna asked. Kristoff smiled and let her examine his hands. In the right light, Anna could just make out thin, almost invisibly pale scars than ran over his fingerprints. The mark of a Fossegrim's student. Legend says that the right offering would have the Fossegrim run his students fingers over the strings of his instrument until they bled, using magic to fuse the essence of music into their very hands.
"Did it hurt?" Anna asked. And who said she didn't have her priorities in order? Kristoff smiled faintly.
"Oh yeah, it hurt. The wires burned cold and the fusing felt like my fingers were burning off. But," he picked up his lute, "it allowed me to do this." Kristoff dove into a hearty jig, one of Anna's favorites that he had learned from an Irish musician who had been hired for their wedding. Fell dove into the jig as well, his violin harmonizing with Kristoff's lute. Anna giggled and couldn't help but dance along to the music.
When they finished the song, both men laughed and bumped shoulders. Then Kristoff fixed Fell with a wary look. "So, Fell. Why have you come all this way? Last you said, you hated civilization." Fell remained silent as he packed up his violin in the case he had carried with him. He sat on one of the patio's couches and laced his fingers before answering.
"None have missed the coming of the Trickster," he admitted. "Even if word had not spread, the trees whisper of his madness. The mountains tremble in fear of what is to come, for they remember the Crescendo better than anyone." All creatures had their names for Ragnarok. Fossegrim and Nokken called it the Crescendo, the climax of the symphony of the gods.
"Some have taken sides, one way or another. The Corrupted have sided with Loki and his ilk. Many have chosen to simply stay out of the way and weather the coming storm. Just as I intended to." He looked up to them. "Until I heard that my very own pupil was the rebirth of the Thunderer." He grinned. "Things like this tend to spread."
Fell stood up, his smile gone and replaced with steely determination. "I cannot pledge much; my kind are not meant for warfare. But I would do anything that I can to aide you in the coming battle."
Kristoff and Anna shared a glance before they both smiled at him. Kristoff clasped his forearm with a nod. "Then get some rest, Fell. Because you're going to need it for tomorrow." Fell paled even as he shook back. Tomorrow?
To pass the time of the final day, Rapunzel sat in the guest room that she and Eugene used when visiting and painted. That had always been her favorite of her many, many hobbies, and it served keep her nerves distracted from the coming conflict. Brave she may be, but even the princess of Corona was a little scared (no, actually utterly terrified) of what was coming. Hence, the painting.
With a final brush stroke, Rapunzel stepped back to admire her latest work. It was a large canvas, her favorite size, that depicted Sunna about to be devoured by Hati. The woman, so small before the gaping maw of the giant wolf, stood her ground with a determined gaze. It was how she remembered it, and it was what would be remembered.
Rapunzel sighed and placed the painting on a separate eisel to dry. That done, she cast her gaze over the other works she had painted. Aside from a few scenes from Sunna's memories, most were of what she remembered of the gods that her family had originally been.
The first was Skadi, with her hair and skin that blended with the snowcapped mountain peak behind her, her dark eyes and lips perfectly contrasted. The Snow Queen was dressed in furs and a long cape that fluttered in the wind. A wolf and a lynx prowled around her ankles, searching for the scent of prey. But it was the look in her eyes, the cold, uncaring, distance that cemented you ideas on her. She didn't care if you lived or died in her brought your fate upon yourself.
The second was of Freya, princess of the Vanir. Rapunzel faintly remembered the embarrassment she had felt as her artistic instincts took over and she had painted that. The goddess's dress sat just above her elbows and just barely kept her decent. Sunbeams shone through the trees and caught in her golden hair. But it was the look in her green eyes that had made Rapunzel's cheeks burn. She gazed at the viewer with barely-restrained passion, the coy smile on her lips only adding to the effect.
The third depicted Thor as he stood on a cliff, thunderheads bursting with lightning adding menace to the piece. His hammer was held high, the lightning illuminating his fiery red hair and the leather and fur that he wore. His face was stretched in a fearsome battle cry, as if he were ready to destroy an army of jotun. Thor had been the champion of Asgard, and this piece showed that in all its terrifying glory.
The fourth was of Odin as he sat upon his throne. The All-Father sat tall and strong, like she always saw her father on his throne, but he held his spear to one side as his other hand stroked his beard in thought. Two ravens perched on his shoulders, two wolves lay at his feet, eyes alert. The look in his eye, the other covered by an elaborate leather patch, was cunning and determined. And more frightening than Thor could ever hope to be.
And the last before her painting of Sunna had been the hardest to create. It depicted Eugene's father, Balder, collapsed against the trunk of a bare-branched willow tree. His eyes were closed and peaceful, even as blood leaked her the corners of his mouth. A green, woven arrow stuck from his chest, blood stained around it.
Rapunzel dashed a tear from her cheek as she looked at the scene. It had helped that Eugene had not actually been Balder, not like all of the others had been their previous counterparts, but it still made her sad. This was the death of Eugene's father, what amounted to her own father-in-law.
"You okay, Blondie?" Eugene asked, drawing Rapunzel from her sadness. The princess giggled as Eugene wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. Rapunzel caressed his cheek and leaned into the embrace. Eugene had been unsure about her starting this little series of projects, but had been more-than-happy to watch as she spread her pent-up emotions across the canvases.
Rapunzel stepped free of her husband's embrace and breathed deeply, searching for one last burst of creativity. "One more?" Eugene asked with a grin. Rapunzel had always like to paint in series' of seven.
"One more," she agreed. And this one would be the most frightening of them all.
Alphonse kept his head low, his new hat protecting him from the rain, as he studied the valley before him from a cliff. The valley was ringed by such cliffs that formed unsurpassable barriers, preventing escape or retreat. Only two thin passes, roughly opposite to each other, would allow access of great armies. Such as the Legions of Loki and Arendelle's forces.
Of the sites he had visited so far, this one seemed the most likely for an all-or-nothing battle. But more than that, he could feel the imminent bloodshed and violence that would shake this valley, would grind the grass to dirt and water it with blood. This was the fated battlefield.
Alphonse's musings were broken by a tingling across his skin; a warning. The mage whispered in the hissing, guttural language of the runes and his eyes flashed as one of his charms took hold. And not a moment later, he felt an intense pressure, like his ears were ready to pop. The pressure disappeared and a high-pitched scream echoed across the cliffs.
Alphonse turned and observed a woman speared in the roots of a fallen tree, her eyes dull and fingers twitching as rivulets of blood ran down her black dress. He opened himself up to magic, to the sight of it, and saw the tree slowly draining her power from her. After her magic was gone, it would move on to her life force. And once that was gone, she would be long dead.
Alphonse growled as he sensed a most-unwelcome presence and turned to find Hans leaning against a boulder, his arms crossed as if he hadn't a care in the world.
"Now was that really necessary?" Hans asked.
"You tell me," Alphonse replied darkly. "She started it." It was true. This charm was mostly defensive, a protection that reflected curses back at their senders. The dark-vala's fate was one she had wished upon him, and now she was paying the price for her actions. A small part of Alphonse wished to help her. But even getting past what she was, he couldn't help her; that curse was a strong one.
Hans shrugged without care. He knew the effects of that curse as well. He hadn't ordered it or even suggested it; she had acted on her own initiative. And so she had been able to work around the Peace, but at the price of her own life. Such was the way of things, he knew.
"You feel it too, don't you Odin?" Loki asked. Alphonse's grip on his spear tightened ever-so-slightly. He forced down his ire; Loki was just trying to goad him. "You feel the Web of Fate that surrounds this place?" Though they couldn't see the Threads themselves, the most powerful of magic users could always feel the presence of fateful locations.
"I do," Alphonse answered, turning to face the valley again. Time to set the terms of the battle. "We meet tomorrow as the sun reaches it's zenith. I'll come from the west, and you from the east. When the sun is at it's highest, we will attack." During the Aesir-Vanir War, all the battles had been prearranged by the elders of the two tribes. Jotuns may have been born and bred in chaos, but even they couldn't resist the pull of Fate.
"Fair enough." The redhead's voice echoed as both minds agreed. Hans smirked. "You better run along home now, Alphonse. Enjoy the last day you will spend with your beloved Snow Queen." Hans dissolved into mist, leaving Alphonse alone with the pouring rain.
Alphonse cast one last glance at the valley below, memorizing the terrain to arrange Elsa's forces, before mounting Askvader and starting the journey back to Arendelle.
The fitful light that penetrated the clouds had faded almost to night as the arrangements with Elsa's council of advisors wound to a close. Elsa felt exhausted; the officials, readers-of-law and the aldermen had meticulously gone over every single foreseeable possibility for the upcoming battle.
What would happen if Elsa died? What would happen if Anna died? What would happen if both of them died?! What if Kristoff was killed or crippled? What about if Rapunzel or Eugene were killed in this conflict? All these questions and so many more had been pored over by experts in Arendelle's laws and finalized by Elsa. The documents would be left with a lawyer that she trusted (especially after Anna had used magic to ensure his honesty) and would be opened if any of these scenarios came to pass.
And despite (or perhaps because of) all that had been accomplished, Elsa was left with frayed nerves and a pounding headache. The Snow Queen only looked up at the sound of Anna approaching with a glass of mead and a sheepish smile. Kristoff, Rapunzel, and Eugene sat further back, all eyes on Elsa.
Elsa took the glass and, in a move that was quite unlike her, downed the contents in one go. She coughed at the burn of the sweet liquor as she passed the glass back to Anna with a grin of thanks. A knock on the door drew everyone's attention. They were, after all, missing only one.
Alphonse entered the small sitting room where the Residuum had gathered. He crossed the room without a word and sat next to Elsa, taking her hand without a thought. Anna smiled at the sight; she was happy that Elsa was happy. The silence stretched on, all unwilling to break it.
"So everything's set up?" Eugene finally asked. When he had returned, Alphonse had set himself the task of cataloging every single troop they had, mundane and magic, and determining how they would be deployed in the fight to come. The actual organization in the following day he would leave to the combined efforts of the Avvisade, Viola and Fell.
"It is," Alphonse answered gravely. Silence settled back on the group. But unlike the peaceful silence from mere moments before, this was tense and nerve-wracking. It was finally settling on each of them that all or none of them might survive the next day. Once again, the silence stretched on.
"We all know what tomorrow will bring," Elsa said, her gaze moving over each of them. "And we all know that what we know is a lie. Battle is unpredictable, and if we lose … if we lose, the world will fall with us." The sorrow in Elsa's gaze hardened into determination. "And so the goal is simple. We -will -not - lose." Everyone stared at her, hope brewing inside each of them.
"All of us have been through hard times. And that was after our previous lives. Tomorrow will be terrifying and bleak … but no more than the worst we have already experienced. We will fight this evil with every breath in our bodies and we will protect each other as we protect the world." Elsa paused, faint anger lacing her voice.
"Hans and Loki and their followers think they can take what they believe is theirs. They know that what they want will destroy the world, and they have chosen their path anyway." Her grip on Alphonse's hand tightened, then she let go as she stood up. "But they will not go unchallenged. Even if the worst comes and we cannot secure victory, we will drag them down into the mire with us!" The room remained still for a solid minute.
"Think you can do that again tomorrow?" Anna asked. Rapunzel tried to stifle her giggles, even as Eugene laughed quietly.
"She has a point," Alphonse pointed out. "The troops will need a speech to reassure them before the battle." he looked up at Elsa with admiration. "And something along those lines will do the trick." Elsa blushed at the praise and smiled back at him.
"Well," Eugene said as he stood up, "I don't know about all of you, but I'm hitting the hay. I mean, if I'm gonna die tomorrow, I at least want to be well rested." Everyone chuckled at Eugene's dark humor before following to their respective rooms.
As Alphonse finished preparing for bed, he turned at the sound of a knock at his door. Who could that be at this time of night? Alphonse opened the door to find Elsa waiting, dressed only in a powder blue silk nightgown. Alphonse blushed lightly and fidgeted.
"Elsa?" he asked, internally berating himself for asking the obvious. "I something wrong?" Elsa smiled faintly, her cheeks becoming rosy as she shook her head.
"May I come in?" she asked in a whisper. Alphonse nodded lightly before stepping aside. Elsa strode in with all of the grace he had come to expect from her and gently clasped her hands to her chest.
"Elsa?" Alphonse asked again.
"My I stay here tonight?" she asked calmly. Alphonse turned red from his collorone to the roots of his hair, blue and gold eyes wide with surprise. Granted, a part of him had considered this, but he had never actually expected it! Elsa whirled around, her cheeks matching his own.
"Not like that!" she assured. "I just-" she cut herself off and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just … don't want to be alone tonight." Alphonse glanced at the door as he considered her request. It wasn't appropriate by any means, an unmarried woman sleeping in the same bed as a wandering mage. But, if he were honest with himself, he couldn't bring himself to care about propriety right now.
"This may be the last chance we get," he conceded. Elsa smiled faintly, her cheeks still rosy. Alphonse gestured for her to get settled. Elsa quickly covered herself with the sheets, wriggling into the mattress to get the most comfortable. Alphonse joined her, his movements jerky and awkward. He settled in and turned over to face Elsa. Both of them simply stared at each other, unsure of what to do.
On impulse, Alphonse placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, one that Elsa returned. Both smiled at each other before Elsa turned over, her back to Alphonse. The mage wrapped his arms around her petite frame, his hands clasped loosely at her waist. Elsa in turn placed her hands over his forearms. Alphonse placed his chin on her shoulder and snapped his fingers, extinguishing the candles in the room.
Both the Snow Queen and the Mage fell asleep with smiles. No matter what the next day would bring, they would remember one thing.
They would remember that they loved each other.
Just to head off the people with their minds in the gutter: Nothing happened between Elsa and Alphonse! Both needed comfort on an understandably stressful night. plus, I think we can all agree it's too soon for "that".
The next chapter will begin the Final Battle, the Second Ragnarok! Guys, it has been awesome writing this, even as it draws to a close! Thank you all for your support! The final Battle will not disappoint guys! I won't let it!
*Please leave a review! If you have ideas for certain characters clashing in the Last Battle, leave me suggestions. I'm not promising it will happen, but I will consider all of them! If you have creatures of Nordic/Scandinavian lore you would like to see in the melee, leave their name and description. I will search for them online and check if their Norse.
As always, thanks for reading! Prepare yourselves for the awesomeness to come!