Every bell in Yggadrasil was ringing, as the army of Surtr, along with Freyr's men, stormed the capital. Dark clouds were gathering above them.

And it's getting colder.

Annie hefted her pack a little higher, as one of the straps began to slip off. They'd been able to slip past the roving groups of Jotunn, and several groups mounted on horseback as they made their escape to the south.

The new guards had protested, not wanting to "run", but Ragnar and Suttungr had been able to convince them that it was under the King's orders. Hackett seemed sullen though.

Does he truly want to die that badly?

The horses that they'd found in the saddle were scared though, as they rode through the flaming remains of a street on the south side of town. The roars of nearby Jotunn shook the rapidly deteriorating houses, as what remained of the King's guard tried to rally. Her grandfather and Dio had disappeared at some point during their flight, and no one had seen where they'd gone off too.

Where did you? To assist the King's guards? They'll die to the man if they try to fight.

Ragnar's group rode on through the carnage, watching vigilantly for any sign of…

A pair of massive eyes appeared at the end of the street, lit by the fires.

"Tyr, Nick, take him! Lead the way!" Ragnar called to his two forward guards.

Wind buffeted her as the two assumed their Jotunn forms, and charged forward. The others spurred their horses into a full gallop, hot on their heels. The Surtr bellowed a challenge and came at them.

Tyr slammed a fist into the Surtr's face, while Nick drove his shoulder into its stomach. It felt backwards into one of the buildings, and died as Nick drove the edge of his hand through its neck.

Then they were charging down the street once again, Luigi and Hackett leading the horses, with Annie and Ragnar in the center. Suttungr and his family rode right behind them, while Eleanor and the other guards took up the rear.

The ground lurched as something flung itself over the rooftops, several something's. A trio of Jotunn now raced behind them, their eyes locked on the valknut on Ragnar's back. One of them roared, a high call.

"Ragnar," She called over the noise, "They know it's you! We need to get the hell out of here!"

He turned and nodded to her.

"We only have a few more blocks and then we should be to the edge of the-"

The thundering of hooves joined the massive noise on their little street, as a force of horsemen joined the three Surtr following them. Some wore the livery of Freyr, and some wore the livery of the Hninga.

They were catching up, she looked over her shoulder and saw that more and more Jotunn were joining the chase. She felt fear beginning to grip her heart. Her heart was thumping away, as Tyr and Nick slammed through another Surtr that tried to cut them off.

She had a sudden sense of déjà vu, and her mind flashed back to her pursuit of Eren through the forest of giant trees, though she now knew how he felt at the time.

I hope this ends better than that episode did.

"Luigi, take the rearguard!"

Luigi immediately complied with Ragnar's order, though it unfortunately killed his horse, the force of his transformation slamming the poor animal into the ground, causing its sides to explode outwards, and spraying everything with blood.

Her horse was apparently made of less stern stuff than the others, for it reared, and began to buck. One of her feet came loose, and she suddenly found herself flying through the air.

"Ragnar!" She screamed, before slamming into the ground. Her shoulder broke from the impact, but she was able to roll back onto her feet.

The three Surtr stampeded by, one of their massive feet missing her by a few feet. But the horsemen were right behind them, and she had no place to go. One of them bore down on her, his long curved sword drawn. She noted the drooping mustaches and the bald head, and that he wore the colors of the Hninga.

The hate in the man's eyes was wild, and as his sword slashed downwards, she saw the end coming.

"Ragnar!"

Ragnar turned in his saddle looking back for Annie. She wasn't where she was supposed to be, and his eyes scanned the area behind him.

His eyes locked on her petite form on the side of the road, as a horsemen's sword cut her nearly in half. A spray of blood marking her end splattered against the wall nearby. He noted that the swordsman looked familiar. It was Davos Hninga, a grin stretching from ear to ear across his face.

No.

He felt a void form in his heart, felt his body begin to shake. His pained expression brought the others eyes around, and strangled cries arose from Eleanor and Suttungr's families, who had grown very close with her.

She was my responsibility, and now she's gone. No. It can't be. I won't allow it! SHE SHALL NOT DIE!

A sensation he hadn't felt for a few days crept into his mind, the Beast had reared its ugly head once again.

Remember!

He was transported back to when he was young, when he'd decided to enter a tournament held during a long ago Founding Festival.

Thirteen and finally considered a man within society, he'd disobeyed Luigi when he'd entered the games as an unknown. Large for his age, and wearing the heavy armor of a man-at-arms, no one had suspected who he was. He'd entered two events, the joust and the swordsman, and accounted himself well against his first opponents.

He'd been unhorsed by a well-known jouster from the Oswald's, but due to Luigi's training, and his strange fighting style, he'd advanced to the final of the swordsman competition.

It had been to his great shock when he found himself standing across from Luigi, who had found out about his plan, and entered as an unknown as well. They stood, their eyes exchanging all the emotion they needed, a conversation that no one could see.

When the announcer had called the match to start, Luigi had turned into a whirlwind of death, his blades slashing in, clanging against Ragnar's hasty parries. Then a blow had gotten through, and another, and another. Until Ragnar collapsed, as Luigi hamstringed him. Then he'd leaned in to speak a few words to him.

"The purpose of this lesson, my dear Prince," He whispered, his helm muffling the words slightly, "Is that you should always expect the unexpected. Never trust that others will do as you want them to, that their luck and chance won't desert them."

Then he'd ripped Ragnar's helmet off, revealing the youthful features of the most hated of the King's son, the kinslayer. The venom from the stands, the jeering and booing had been nearly intolerable, and angry tears had slid down his face as he and Luigi were disqualified from the tournament.

Why, Beast, would you show me that? He asked.

You can't trust others to protect you. I've given you my power, now use it! You can still save her, though your child… Save her, Ragnar.

Suddenly he was back on his horse, looking back at Annie's fallen form. He felt his resolve solidify, forming a hammer that would sweep his fear away.

Embrace the power, your power! The power of a Harbinger!

"Everyone, transform now! I'll deal with these fuckers on my own!" He yelled, even as he catapulted himself off of his own horse.

He landed on his feet, and skid to a stop, a feat that would be impossible for a regular human. But he wasn't a regular human.

The Surtr and their allies assumed their forms in a massive explosion that leveled houses for blocks around. They filled the street, sprinting shoulder to shoulder now, their horses long forgotten behind them.

I must get to Annie.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing Tyr and Nick struggling with a dozen other Jotunn, while Luigi leapt to their assistance. Suttungr crouched protectively near Griselda and Arnora, who had assumed their own Jotunn form, and were cradling the children in their arms.

His other guards were torn between assisting him and assisting the others.

Go help the others. Now. He thought, willing it to their minds.

They looked about in confusion, but complied when they saw him looking at them. Hackett nodded in understanding and leapt to the other's support, the other two hot on his heels.

Now, Beast, to deal with the Hninga and the other bastards.

KILL!

His Jotunn burst to life, its blonde hair flapping crazily about, its teeth locked into a grin around the massive canines and sharpened teeth that lined his jaws. Each of its hands held a long sword, which it held fanned out blades pointing towards the sky.

He roared, charging to meet them.

King Hoenor, his eyes nearly closed, sat on his throne.

The palace was deserted, he'd sent the Queen and all of the servants away. And his guards had all left the throne room to attempt to hold the gates. The man strutting up the now soiled red carpet that led to the throne meant their lives had been lost in vain.

"Hello, Father."

Freyr, the greatest traitor Jotunheim had ever known, spoke quietly. A phalanx of his men stood behind him, and the Lord Hninga stood next to him, Helga Laudstrom on his other side. They stopped at the bottom step, looking up at him. As his eyes swept the crowd, he noted the faces of his other sons, Harald, Heinrich and Jarl.

More traitors.

"I always knew you were a spineless coward, Freyr," He said, mustering the last of his strength to sit up straight on his throne, "But I never had you pegged as a traitor. Though that venomous little bitch I married you off to may have had something to do with it."

He got the desired effect as his words struck home. Freyr's face reddened, and his fists clenched. But Helga laid a hand on his arm and stepped forward. She grinned.

She has no idea how truly fucked she is.

"Just step down, old man, and allow my husband to assume his place," Her hand swept the crowd, "Look at this crowd, brought together because of your incompetence. Step down, and make Freyr the true king."

The King's eyes finally rose to meet the young woman in front of him. She took a step back as she noted the anger and contempt he watched her with.

"Freyr shall never be a king, fool," He struggled for a moment, finally levering himself up. Now standing, a hand on his throne, he looked over the gathering crowd. "He does not have the temperament, since he is a coward. Something it seems my other sons have inherited also."

Helga scoffed.

"You think to deny my husband his throne," She asked, waving a hand to a guard who brought forth a dripping canvas sack, "Then you shall end up like them! Noone shall stop our ambitions!"

The heads of the Houselords of the Oswald, Styr and MacDowell families rolled to the floor, looks of surprise still etched on their faces.

"Freyr," He called, seeing the faces of men he'd known for their entire lives, now dead, "You shall always be an usurper. As long as my true heirs still live, you'll never see a moment of peace."

"If by your true heirs you mean the Death Prince and Suttungr," Freyr said, "Then you should know that my forces are hunting them down already, and have them cornered. They'll be dead within the quarter hour."

Hoenor couldn't control himself anymore, and began to chuckle, then a bellowing laugh escaped his chest.

"You think you can kill him?" He pointed at Freyr, "You could no more kill him than you could kill me! I have seen things that would make you run in terror. I have seen a star born on Earth, I've seen everything I love killed, I've seen them swept away, like tears in a stream! And Ragnar shall be even more powerful than me! Now die, traitor!"

His hand slipped into his robe, and pulled out the object he'd removed from his vault when he'd awoken Dio. The little metal sphere clicked apart in his hands, so that a narrow band stood between the top and bottom halves. It began to beep, slowly at first, than faster and faster.

The throne room erupted into chaos, not out of any fear of the little ball he held, which they didn't know to fear, but out of fear of his transforming into a Jotunn.

The fools don't know I'm too weak to do that! Ha!

Freyr bit down on his hand, transforming into his Jotunn as did most of the other members of his party.

I sure hope this works… Cause this is gonna suck.

He slammed the top and bottom halves together, and the fuel-air explosive bomb exploded with the force of what an old-timer would have called a two-kiloton nuclear bomb.

The King's final thoughts tried to reach out to his sons, his true sons.

Do what must be done! End the time of sorrow!

And then white light engulfed him.

Ragnar crouched over Annie's lifeless body, his hands resting near her massive wound. They were surrounded by the steaming corpses of the Surtr and their allies.

She's lost too much blood, too much…

A hand touched his shoulder, and he wrenched his head around, looking into Eleanor's face.

"Ragnar, we need to go."

"No, not until she comes back!" He protested, willing her wound to heal even more. He felt the Beast feeding him more and more energy, felt his hands warming until they felt like they were burning...

He saw Eleanor's face drop out of the corner of his eyes, only to dart a look to the end of the street. A nightmare stood there, a dozen Surtr, led by Arthur. Long crystal blades hung from his Jotunn's hands, and his Jotunn seemed to smile.

Nick roared from the end of the street, and charged him.

"No, Nick!" Eleanor and Ragnar screamed as he swept by their position.

He swung one of his fists, going for a massive strike for Arthur's head, but Arthur was too fast for that. Ducking under the blow, his blades slashed upwards, right through Nick's neck.

No…

The Surtr charged down the street, and Luigi and Suttungr went to meet them, Tyr and the others following. Ragnar watched without truly seeing what was going on. He looked down at Annie, noting that her wound had finally healed. But when he held his head to her chest, he couldn't hear or feel a heartbeat.

No…

Dustin Fell died as one of Arthur's guards bit down on the nape of his neck. It spit out the chunk it had torn and proceeded to leap on Tyr.

His men, his friends were being swamped by the Surtr. Driven backwards. He had to help, but then he'd have to leave Annie.

Tears slid down his face, falling from his face onto Annie's. A shock echoed down the street as Eleanor joined the fray, trying and failing to reach Tyr in time.

First Nick and now Tyr… He thought, as the last of his original guards was killed, a pair of Surtr ripping off his head and slamming it into his now helpless body. Eleanor slammed into his killers, hands clawed and slashing like a wild animal. The ground shook, and a massive fireball climbed into the air in the direction of the Palace.

It's all my fault. Everything is. All my fault…

He had to do something, but the Beast fought against it.

You must help Annie! There is still hope!

Her lifeless body, so perfect and beautiful. He held her body close, before kissing her soft lips a last time.

"Annie, you need to live." He whispered into her ear.

Then he was on his feet, facing the Surtr. He began walking towards them, as rage seethed within him. Rage at himself for allowing all of this to happen. Rage at his father for not telling him the truth.

Arthur was battling Suttungr and Luigi, his blades deftly parrying their blows and slashing through their own parries. The noise was deafening as their Jotunn roared at each other, as Eleanor tore apart a Surtr, as Hackett and Carr worked together to take down another.

Before he could transform, more gargantuan footsteps joined the mix, as four more Jotunn joined the fray. Eric the Strong, his armored form leading the line, slammed into Arthur from behind, sending him flying for hundreds of feet. Master Tobias, Dio and Sigmund engaged the remaining Surtr, riding their surprise attack.

He watched Dio with wide eyes, as his Jotunn was strange. It's upper body was much larger, and the head hunched forward, between the shoulder blades, but how gloriously it moved! It moved with such grace, such control. It killed a pair of Surtr with a twist it's body, before kicking their bodies into the Surtr fighting with Sigmund.

Ragnar watched with tearful eyes as the final Surtr was killed, and transformed into his Jotunn. Reaching back to gingerly pickup Annie's body, he stared at the frail form, her hair fanned out on the inside of his palm. A snowflake, the first of many if the darkening of the sky was any indication, fell onto her chest, just above her heart.

I shall save her...

Electricity coursed through him as she felt the Beast stirring, it's tentacles slithering through him. He watched as Annie was drawn into his hand, as if she had fallen into lake. Another jolt, and another coursed through him, and suddenly he felt something bump him in his little cavity. It was Annie, the beast had drawn her through his Jotunn, bringing her to him.

"Annie," He said, ripping off the nerves that connected below his eyes so that he could see her, "Annie! Live, live damn you! Don't make me do this by myself!"

His body convulsed as another jolt hit him, and he saw Annie's shutter with his own. He reached out a hand and laid it between her breasts, above her heart.

Please... Another jolt, and then...

A heartbeat. A single, lonely heartbeat.

Updated 12/1/2013

Sorry I posted this thing kind of half baked. Got my files mixed up and copied and pasted my original version, not my updated version. Hope you all enjoy!