The Russian troops were pulled out of the Southern Isles after the capture of Prince Hans. News of such events had finally reached the wider world; especially, the monarchs of Europe. Ever since the coronation of Queen Elsa to take over the Kingdom of Arendelle upon being of age, rumors flowed like a fountain. First, it began with the talk of a royal with magical powers and then there came speculations about men from another world. It would have seemed absurd but the escalation of a peaceful coexistence with the post-apocalypse survivors into seeking their help for a full-blown war had left them a great impression.

The Arendellian ruler sat in her carriage as they entered the Palace of Versailles. Once a former estate to King Louis, it now served as the epicenter of the peace treaty between her kingdom and Hans. She pitied the man she once loved but it wouldn't blind her from the clear fact that he tried to kill her and steal everything she loved about her home. Nothing will stand in the way of bringing consequences to his ambitions. Her mind had gone through the motions but it did little to ease the pressures of meeting with foreign heads of state upon the matter.

"Elsa, are you okay?" Her mother asked from across the seat.

She had tried to look outside the carriage window with the hope of not letting her expressions get the better of her and it certainly failed. The queen stole a glance at the former ruler in a purple and green dress, the color matching the themes of her nation's flag. Elsa didn't want to make her mother be filled with worry. "Just thinking about the meeting. The last time I saw Hans was in his tent as his prisoner."

"He can't hurt you anymore," Anna said, sitting beside her in a traditional dress from the neighboring Kingdom of Norway. Strange to find the free-loving girl embracing concepts of old but it was nice to admire the luxuries of life now that the war was no longer a pressing concern. "The French delegation will make sure of that."

"I know he won't hurt me. Artyom saw that for me." Her heart would feel quite differently, perhaps expressing a cold shoulder towards the former fiance.

"Do we have any idea of when the Russians will join us around the same time?"

The former king of Arendelle shook his head with firm conviction. "Artyom and his countrymen have joined with Tsar Mikhail and Prince Vaska to settle on the clauses of the treaty. Then they will arrive." His clothing was that of a cotton brown jacket and white trousers, clothing that would be fit for an outdoorsman hunting foxes on horseback. Yet, it had been the point all along when mother pressed him to look formal. Her former lover's absolute disrespect towards the family had spurred him to do the same in the form of his refusal to be dressed in the same attire as King Friedrich. It would send a clear message, one that would be printed in newspapers and photographed for the rest of the world to see. "Lieutenant Mathias, how is it, seeing the world since you last left it?!"

It made Elsa smile, knowing the close relationship her father had with the officer in charge of the honor guard. The soldier had been sitting beside the driver, above and outside of the stagecoach. "It's weird. Machines that move without the help of cattle or horses, lighting in the streets, and even those thingamabobs that blind you." Even after all of this time, it had never shaken their relationship.

Their transportation halted in front of the building itself. The weight pressed against them from the top had eased with the lieutenant dismounting from his seat and making his way to open the door from the queen's side. She stepped out in a shimmering pale blue frock, lined with silver colors, carefully ensuring her clothing didn't meet the wrong end of her icy high heels she had carved out of ice. Before her were an entourage of French foot grenadiers standing before her, at attention, with their heads and spines straightened on behalf of her arrival.

A croak of a lizard broke the serious tension she had before the queen felt four feet resting on her shoulder. Elsa reached out and grabbed the spirit of fire, the little creature had gotten close to her from the moment the magical barrier had been removed. In her palm, its tongue reached out and panted before she entertained him by sprinkling snowflakes from her fingertips, letting it eat what landed upon its tongue.

Anna's voice caught up to her. "I can't believe you would bring him along. Aren't you worried that he may cause a fire or burn down the palace?" That was a definite concern, one she agreed to but hoped her position as the Fifth Spirit would prevent the possibility.

"He'll be fine," She replied before turning to the lizard in her palms with sparkling eyes and its head held high, "So long as you behave."

"There's a lot of important people at the party and they're all eager to see us. I hope we don't disappoint."

The last time that a Russian monarch had been in France was back in the days of Napoleon, the tsar's ancestor was treated as a hero to all of Europe for stopping the threat of Bonaparte. Now, he would be here once more, not to fight the local government but to seek out a peaceful ending to a conflict that didn't need to happen on behalf of the kingdom of Arendelle. Despite all of the military power he wielded, this was a diplomatic meeting between the ruler of the Southern Isles and a strange hodge-podge of a coalition of factions with third-party heads of state to oversee the official terms of the treaty. Yet, they would have to wait as Queen Elsa and her family had not arrived to join them.

Emperor Mikhail Romanov stood at the party and waited for that family to make their introduction on foreign soil. In his court, he heard the whispers and murmurs of people mystifying the young woman's personality. This had been growing over time and even he was enthralled by the rumors of Elsa's powers at her coronation. While some saw her as a witch from ages long past or heresy, he was not as religiously minded when compared to his counterparts throughout the continent. All that the tsar saw was a girl who just wanted some decent company, one that deserved to be her friend - his grandson being the one to transform that relationship to blossom into heartfelt love.

Artyom was on the other side of the room with an entourage of his people from the other world. The elders of a long-dead nation acted as his advisors while accompanied by battle-hardened comrades of the same age. His experience in the court was showing as cliques of foreign gentlemen introduced their beautiful daughters in colorful silk dresses with the hope of earning the eye of the heir of Imperial Russia. Unfortunately, they knew little about the fact that his heart already belonged to another unless they were hoping he would break that for merely the pleasures of the flesh. Even then, such suitors would be dismissed by a major of a faction known as the 'Red Line' to help his friend be free of such social predicaments.

"Your grandson has been the talk of all the courts." A German announced himself, appearing to stand beside the old man in a Prussian blue uniform. Mikhail took the moment to steal a glance at his German counterpart to his right, finding a red sash wrapped from one of his shoulders to across his chest. "I take that you were busy."

It was an understatement but the tsar wondered what the king of Prussia and the latest emperor of the Holy Roman Empire was doing here. "Franz Hohenzollern, what brings a man of your stature around these parts? I thought you Germans were content with the mess that you call a realm."

The other monarch chuckled. "The jumped-up royalty believed that they could legally escape imperial authority during the elections. I'm here to see that they return to the fold, which your army has fortunately made my day." Machinations of power were at work here but the Romanov didn't show it for he knew that a display of weakness would be seen as an advantage to other countries. "I take that man in the strange uniform with red stars, who has the attention of all the young ladies, is your grandson? If the rumors about his mother being Marya are true, I'm here to convey my absolute apologies. No father should ever have to suffer the loss of their child, especially, you." Seldom did rulers share their genuine affection for each other as the throne left little room for emotions but the old man didn't care. His heart was put at ease while he appreciated the Prussian's sentiments.

"Thank you. It's nice to hear honest opinions from time to time."

"Your family suffered much, it's the least I could do." Franz answered as his hands reached behind and his back straightened, "The French are making their arrangements but have your people decided upon the terms? Can't show up here empty-handed."

He had spent hours with his otherworldly post-apocalypse counterparts, who put forth their intentions for peace and avoid a second war in the future. "The Southern Isles will pay reparations for the costs of war and Prince Hans and his family will be held accountable to fulfill their end of the deal under your empire's supervision. At the same time, Arendelle and Russia will not occupy his lands. However, the men from the other world also wanted a clause that the technology that had been used against them would be confiscated by the Polis Rangers of the Spartan Order. Any attempt to not comply with that particular demand would reject the whole treaty and result in full-scale occupation."

"I honestly cannot blame them. That boy truly thought he could get away with his plans. On the other hand, one can see that they want a monopoly on some strange machines that is beyond the science decided upon in the academies of Europe."

Franz was on the point about that matter. Prince Vaska had enjoyed being at the forefront of exploration and understanding in the name of science before he got caught up in Arendelle's affairs. Now his country was at the forefront of having this strange advancement under his authority through Artyom's connection.

"Is it true that your grandson is in love with the Queen of Arendelle?" That was a question that he didn't expect, causing the emperor to ignore the ballroom dancing and the murmurs of cliques to take upon the chance to look at the Prussian. "Did I strike a nerve?"

"No, it seems that everyone seems to know about what goes on in Arendelle than they have any right to be." Being at the center of attention to all the major houses and royals of Europe had its downsides but that also meant that someone would be sniffing around where their nose didn't belong.

"Well, it's hard to ignore the photographs of your recent Archduke Artyom being beside Queen Elsa."

He wasn't wrong to make that assumption. "Would it ease your mind of questions if I told it that is true?"

"Really?" The Prussian King's eyes widened. "If their relations truly take root, your family can boast that they're related to an ice queen."

The servants in the room were quick to make their towards the entrance on the far side of the room, quickly opening the doors. It was sudden but quite possibly a hint of what was coming to the party. Two men in black suits were adjacent to the double doors before he caught a glimpse of Queen Elsa and her family entering. "They're here."

"Goodness, those girls are incredibly beautiful."

Soon a shift occurred from the left side of the room where Artyom and his companions walked up to the Arendellians with smiles on their faces. He had been besieged by possible suiters and despite the efforts of fathers attempting to set ties with their daughters, the heir did not relent before his stride toward the beautiful blonde in an ice-blue dress stole everyone's attention. It was too obvious that they were close and there was no intention deep within his mind to hide that.

Now that they were here, it was only a matter of time before the two sides of the conflict would be called upon to meet behind closed doors.

The meeting was tense as the various royal families and their bodyguards were brought into a single and smaller room. Fortunately, there was enough furniture and chairs to permit the parties a seat. It was difficult for Prince Hans to feel important among them as his words held little sway in the presence of his father - King Friedreich. Yet, he sat beside him at a long rectangular table with one side involving his father and his brothers as the other contained representatives of the Moscow Metro and beyond, Tsar Mikhail of Imperial Russia, and Queen Elsa of Arendelle. The rest merely behind them, watching and keeping silent.

Whenever his gaze fell upon her, he could see her head turn. What love that was would never be reclaimed as Artyom Romanov sat beside her and across from him in a Soviet uniform. The monarch's true lover having his hands tied together by their own fingertips. It was a spitting image of regality as his emotions were kept behind a mask of pondering thought. The young man had underestimated him, thinking he would be long gone after being separated and trapped in the other world. If only he could turn back time and improve his plans, this meeting didn't have to occur.

A French diplomat approached the table from the prince's right and stood up at the edge of the table. He cleared his throat for what may become the beginning of the end. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am here on behalf of France to act as a mediator between the kingdoms. Here, we will discuss the matters of terms before a peace treaty is presented and signed for parties involved. Seeing as Queen Elsa and Tsar Mikhail are the victors of this war, what terms do you present to us?"

The Arendellian ruler straightened her back while lowering her head, hiding away the grimace upon her expression. Had she not thought of terms on her way to the meeting? Perhaps there was a chance to salvage something out of his mistakes? Unfortunately, it was interrupted when the old Russian emperor looked over his shoulder and whispered to a nobleman standing behind him. His hand was raised as he garnered the attention of those in the room. "My countrymen and I have written up the terms and are ready to present it to King Friedriech." A folder was brought forward before he slipped a piece of paper out into the light and carefully placed it flat on the table. Then Mikhail passed it across for the ruler of the Southern Isles. "These are the terms the Arendellians and us Russians have agreed upon."

The prince leaned towards the parchment in hopes of getting a clear look; however, his father raised his hand and blocked his view. He did not knew if this was intentional or not but his mind was now filled with the suspense of the consequences. "My kingdom will not be occupied but in return my treasury will be used to pay for reparations of the damages inflicted by not only the soldiers of the Southern Isles and the Caspian banditry." He stopped reading and looked up at his counterpart. "This is extortion, I will not sign this!"

"You are in no position to refuse those terms." Spoke Artyom earning the full ire of his father.

"Who is this plebian and why does he speak at this table?!"

The Frenchman's voiced intervened. "King Friedreich, you are under my majesty's roof. This is our guest, not yours. So if the tsar wishes to bring his grandson to this meeting, he has every right to do so."

Hans watched as his supposed inspiration had his mouth agape before turning to the young Russian man. "Whose son is this?"

"Princess Marya's," The voice of Mikhail hardened in his tone to reinforce the legitimacy of Artyom's place at the treaty room, "He raises an excellent point that you are unable to decline this treaty."

"Your whore of a mother would be alive as my wife if she hadn't run off with that peasant." It was a venemous insult by his father but Hans saw Artyom's gaze hardened like steel.

"Given that this war is the result of your inadequacies as a father, I consider myself fortunate. Your coffers wouldn't be emptied had Prince Hans been taught the meaning of understanding, care, and love."

King Friedreich stood up while his chair slid back. "How naive?! If this is the would-be heir of the Russian Empire, then you certainly do not grasp the rights of the strong."

"Do not talk to me about the rights of the strong, you are far too weak for that." Quipped the Russian, his arms crossing over his chest. "Your name will be etched in ink on this paper before you leave this room. This is not a negotiation."

"King Agnarr, Queen Iduna, what say you? Do none of you have any words to bring to the table." Hans looked over many shoulders to see the previous rulers of Arendelle sitting on a couch with Princess Anna flanking the father.

The parents stole a glance at each other before Agnarr adjusted himself atop his seat. "Despite my supposed seniority, my daughter is the acting ruler of the kingdom. So whatever you want to say, she is the one you speak to."

He scoffed at the logic before looking towards the Queen of Arendelle and the former lover of the prince. There was nothing for him to say given what he had done. "Do you support the terms of the treaty that was pushed by the Russians?"

"Yes, absolutely. Even though it's harsh, the consequences for your son's actions cannot be understated." Elsa began, slightly unsure in tone but then her heart released a deep breath and continued. "He launched an invasion fleet just after I had resolved some issues between my kingdom and the people of Northuldra. Had your son succeeded, he would have brought the wrath of the spirits upon all of us."

"Damn it all!" Friedreich swore before growling at the foreign opposition. "Fine, I'll sign this damn paper." His head turned to meet the eyes of the thirteenth prince. "As for you, when we return, I'll ensure that you will never destroy my reputation ever again."

It had been signed and the weight on Artyom's shoulders was lifted. The Arendellian and Russian delegations had spent the rest of their time at the party but he would play no part in the entertainment. With the war over, the young man spent his evening at a balcony and admired the coming of night with the sun so distant and slipping far the horizon. The moment was beautiful but there had been a thought that finally entered his mind after all of the fighting and adventuring.

What was he going to do with his life?

He had been prepared to fight and die for the Order on behalf of the Moscow Metro; yet, things have changed that his purpose in life was shifting. Even now, his fate would become unknown as the meaning of being the Station Commander of Exhibition would lose all meaning as his people were being evacuated to Arendelle for a better life. The world he once knew was, ironically, over. However, his royal bloodline seemed to gift him a chance of beginning anew, to start again once more as part of a reclaimed legacy.

Artyom walked near the edge of the stone railing and leaned against it. No longer would he be the orphan of the post-apocalypse, for he would be the prince of Imperial Russia. The weight of the name was a daunting one to carry but one he welcomed. Perhaps this was the consequences of refusing to kill the Dark Ones and that they decided his fate for him. He always had some concept that God was out there, who had abandoned humanity to their doomed fate but there was a whisper that maybe his people could attain forgiveness for the destruction of the Earth. The priests always said that God works in mysterious ways and maybe they could be on to something.

The uncertainty of life was not enough to bring crisis into his mind, heart, and soul - for the Queen of Arendelle was there to grant him comfort. After all, the war was done on her behalf. A spark of child-like excitement was spawned, feeling so sure that he would come up to Elsa and have the courage to speak from the very soul that hid since the days humanity was entombed into the stations. For the first time in his life, he had a future.

"Artyom!"

He turned around saw Pavel Morozov standing at the doorway with his knee slightly bent. In his hand was a plate full of square chocolates and a smile on his face. Clearly, he was enjoying himself. "Eat too much of that and you'll be fat."

"Indeed I will." The officer proclaimed before stepping forward and approached the lone thinker. "Was sneaking out of the kitchen until I saw you. Is something wrong at the party?"

"No." The prince shook his head, hoping his friend would understand his feelings on the matter. His eyes looked up and became witness to the glimmer of the stars in the void. "After the signing of the treaty, I feel like I needed some time to myself. Just thinking about what will happen after today? The future was never something I thought about and now life threw this brick in my face and I don't know what to do."

"You're not the only one who can say that. We have a prime opportunity the rest of our comrades fought and bled for. The least we can do, by honoring them, is head somewhere and light the way." Pavel's words seemed to resonate with him and Artyom found it inspiring from someone who should politically despise him. Perhaps he would surprise the man by doing the one thing that would solidify his relationship with the queen.

"Then I'll start by marrying Elsa."

The man beside him coughed and his head turned to see him swallow while his head reached over the balcony. "You're going to push your luck with her?" He said, surprised by the decision being made. It took him a moment to clear his throat before their gazes met. "I think you two would be wonderful together."

"Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. You are the sort of man who stood by her when that old fart tried to rat her out as a monster. Given the history that both of you share, it was going to happen, sooner or later, when you have the confidence." Pavel replied before taking another chocolate and throwing it down his gullet. "After seeing you storm those walls, I'm sure she is willing to let a brave man like you into her life."

A loud pop echoed from the hallways inside as a commotion of people cheered, causing their heads to turn. Although brief, clearly, people were enjoying the celebration of peace.

"We should go inside and join them, comrade-prince. You need the company."

It was an honest suggestion and if one of his closest companions was willing to tell him upfront, then Artyom would comply. Then he stole a glance at the chocolates and let out a chuckle. "I will, in exchange for some of those chocolates."

Major Morozov raised his hand and waved his favor. "Didn't you say this chocolate was fattening? I sense a bit of hypocracy!"

"It's just our little secret, just between you and me." He negotiated but his history with the royals of Arendelle was enough to bring his knowledge to this debacle. "I'll tell Anna if you don't share. Besides, isn't it the communist way to share with one another."

"No, no, no, you don't get to say that." Pavel laughed as he pulled the plate away from the Russian prince. "You can have two."

His hand reached for the two squares and tossed them in Artyom's direction until he caught both with quick reflexes. Then he began to eat one, savoring the taste of victory while sugar simmered through his veins. "Appreciate it."

It was not long after that the two children of the long-dead Soviet Union had walked back inside to join the others. The days of the war behind them and bright light at the end of the tunnel ahead for the survivors of the apocalypse.

Author's Note: I have been putting this chapter off for awhile. It should have been posted a week ago but I kinda procrastinated by playing Starfield. The game is surprisingly good and now I'm worried that it will take me a month before the next and final chapter arrives.