Frozen: The Black Dread
(I do not own the rights to Game of Thrones/House of the Dragons and Frozen. Those rights respectively belong to Disney and HBO/George R. R. Martin.)
Hey guys I'm back with another chapter. This will be an interesting chapter that for obvious reasons will contain a lot of plot points and a revelation. With the introduction out of the way let's get this started.
Chapter 36
In the quiet aftermath of Lilith's departure, the tension in Arendelle was palpable. The sky was still heavy with the scent of brimstone, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to vibrate with the lingering echo of Diablo's return. The group gathered in a makeshift war room, candles flickering in the breeze as they all tried to process what had just transpired.
Prince Nuada stood at the head of the room, his expression grim as he studied the others. Beside him stood his loyal allies—Grimgor Ironhide, the hulking orc warlord whose fists were like iron anvils; Mr. Wink, the ogre whose eyes gleamed with unfathomable knowledge; General Otim, the stoic Minotaur yet fierce general of the free peoples forces; and Kroq-Gar, the towering Saurus warrior whose very presence radiated ancient power. Together, they represented some of the most formidable warriors in the known realms, but even they seemed uncertain now.
"What exactly happened?" Nuada asked, his voice a low, controlled rumble as he turned to look at Elsa, Balerion, and the others. "We left that battlefield with a momentary reprieve, yet something is off. This… Ashley." He gestured to the young woman who had once been their comrade, her presence now unsettling in ways they could not articulate.
Brok and Sindri, who had been quiet in the background, now looked at each other in silent agreement. The two dwarven brothers were master crafters, experts in magic, and had long suspected that something unusual had occurred during the battle, but seeing Ashley now, standing among them, brought a wave of unease. Brok, with his thick beard and sharp eyes, walked toward her.
"Aye," Brok muttered, narrowing his eyes as he scanned Ashley. "There's something different about you, lass. It's not just your appearance—there's somethin' in yer aura. Magic. Dark magic, I reckon."
Sindri, his twin, stepped up beside his brother, shaking his head in disbelief. "It ain't right. You were one thing before, and now…" His voice trailed off as his gaze flicked over Ashley's features, as though trying to decipher a puzzle that no longer made sense. "This ain't the same girl we knew, Brok."
Ashley, who had been standing quietly at the edge of the group, shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, the weight of what had happened to her still hanging over her. Despite her appearance, the changes in her were far more than physical. Something inside her had been altered—twisted by the power of the Black Soulstone, by the demonic influence that had taken hold of her.
"I—I don't understand it either," Ashley spoke, her voice quiet, almost foreign to her. "Diablo is inside me. I can feel it… but I'm still here. I don't know what's happening anymore." Her eyes darted nervously from face to face, searching for answers that she didn't have.
Prince Nuada stepped forward, his keen gaze not leaving Ashley as he spoke. "Explain yourself. You are no longer the same. We saw Diablo consume you, but now you stand before us, changed. What are you? What has he done to you?"
Grimgor Ironhide grunted, his deep voice like the rumble of thunder as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I don't like this. What kind of sorcery has Diablo wrought here? How are we supposed to trust someone who carries his power within?"
Ashley's eyes widened as she spoke quickly, "I'm still… me. The real me. But Diablo has taken control of my body. His power… it's like a constant storm inside my mind. I can't push him out, but I still feel everything. It's a fight I'm losing."
Kroq-Gar, the silent saurian warrior, finally spoke, his voice low but commanding. "Tyranny of demons," he muttered. "Only one will remain. There is no hope for those tainted by such power."
The tension in the room thickened as everyone seemed to recognize the gravity of the situation. Even Prince Nuada, with his hardened warrior's heart, couldn't help but feel unease creeping up his spine. Though Ashley's body might have been a vessel, the demon inside her was a terrifying force that none of them could ignore.
"You're saying the demon is still inside you, controlling you?" Mr. Wink asked, his voice sharp and inquisitive. "I know the magic. It's not just possession—it's domination. If you still feel yourself, it's a delicate balance. If Diablo's control strengthens, it may crush you entirely." He paused, letting the words hang heavy in the air. "We've seen this before, haven't we?"
General Otim, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his expression grim as he addressed the group. "What choice do we have, then? If we let Diablo complete his control, there will be no stopping him. Not even with all our strength."
Elsa, who had been quiet up until this point, finally spoke, her voice filled with determination. "We can't give up on Ashley. We can't let Diablo win. I believe she's still in there—we have to find a way to help her."
Balerion, who had been quietly observing, looked at Ashley with a mixture of sympathy and concern. "You're stronger than you think, Ashley. We won't let you face this alone."
The group looked at one another, the weight of their decision heavy on their shoulders. The stakes had never been higher—Diablo's return, the war against the demonic rebels, and now the threat of Ashley's transformation into something unrecognizable. Yet, there was still a flicker of hope—a belief that they could still save her, that there was still time before Diablo's full control consumed her completely.
Prince Nuada's eyes lingered on Ashley, but his voice remained steady as he spoke, "This is no longer just about fighting demons, it's about saving one of our own. We need to figure out what has happened to you, Ashley. Find a way to sever Diablo's hold before it's too late."
Brok grumbled in agreement, his voice low and steady. "Aye, we'll need all the help we can get, and the finest craftin' magic to undo what's been done. The sooner we start, the better."
With that, the group gathered their resolve, knowing the path ahead would not be easy. The battle was no longer just about fighting for their world—it was a race against time to save one of their own from the very darkness they had been trying to defeat.
As the group absorbed Ashley's words, the atmosphere in the room shifted. They had all witnessed the brutal power of Diablo and felt the weight of his dominion on Ashley's body. Yet, in this moment, it was clear that she was still very much Ashley—her memories, her love for her friends, her sense of family. These things, while physically made into an entity by Lilith's dark powers, still formed the core of the woman standing before them.
Ashley's voice was quiet but firm as she spoke. "I… I know I'm not the same as I was. But the part of me that loves you all—that's still here." Her eyes looked around the room, meeting each face with sincerity. "Everything I've lived, every moment we've shared, it's real—even if it's been twisted into something dark." She paused, her gaze falling to the ground for a moment, as if wrestling with the emotional weight of it all. "Lilith, she… she made it physical. My memories, my emotions, even my love for all of you—it's all here. It's alive in a way that I never imagined possible."
She took a deep breath, looking back up. "But it's not all of me. The real me, the part of me that is Ashley… she's still locked away inside. Right now, Diablo has control over my body, but I won't let that part of me die." She forced a small, bittersweet smile. "I just don't want to think about it too much. Not yet. We have bigger things to deal with, and that's Hans and his family."
Her words, though heavy, carried with them a quiet strength—a determination not to allow herself to become the center of their focus when so many other battles loomed on the horizon. She wasn't going to let Diablo win by distracting them from the war that was still raging. Her fight wasn't over, but she would face it when the time was right, not when everything else was hanging by a thread.
Grimgor Ironhide grunted, his broad green face unreadable. "You fight like an orc, lass. We've got no time to waste. Hans, his kin—they'll pay for what they've done." His large hands clenched into fists, eager to get back into the action.
Kroq-Gar, the silent Saurus, simply nodded, his sharp eyes acknowledging Ashley's resolve. Though words were scarce from him, his approval was unmistakable.
Prince Nuada, ever the tactician, studied Ashley for a moment before speaking. "You are stronger than many I have known, Ashley. It seems there is still much of you left inside. For now, we must set our sights on Hans. He has the Black Soulstone, and that alone makes him a threat that cannot be ignored. But we will not forget what we owe you." His voice was steady, but there was a trace of concern beneath the surface—he could see the toll it was taking on her, even if she tried to hide it.
Mr. Wink, who had been largely quiet throughout the discussion, now stepped forward. His sharp gaze focused on Ashley, his eyes filled with ancient knowledge. "There are ways to separate you from Diablo's influence, but it will take time. Time we may not have. So I agree with you—Hans and his family need to be dealt with first. Once that is done, we can turn our attention to freeing you from this curse." His voice was cool and analytical, as though he were already mapping out the necessary steps in his mind.
Elsa, her arms folded across her chest, finally spoke, her voice warm yet resolute. "We won't leave you behind, Ashley. You're a part of this team, and we'll fight for you, just like we always have. We'll deal with Hans, and then we'll find a way to bring you back. Together."
Balerion, still in his human form, placed a reassuring hand on Ashley's shoulder. "You've done more than enough already. It's our turn to carry this burden for you. We won't let you face this alone."
Ashley smiled weakly, comforted by the words of her friends, but the weight of what lay ahead was still heavy on her heart. Despite the darkness threatening to consume her, she felt a spark of hope in the faces around her—hope that they could defeat Diablo and, one day, free her from his grasp.
"Thank you," Ashley whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's end this. For all of us."
With that, the group made their way to the strategy table, their resolve hardened. They would not allow Hans and his family to continue their reign of terror. The Black Soulstone, and whatever plans Diablo had for it, had to be stopped. But Ashley's fate still lingered over them, and though it would not be the focus for now, each of them knew that the final battle would not just be against Hans—it would be for Ashley's soul.
As the group gathered in the dimly lit war room, the atmosphere was thick with the weight of justice yet to be served. Brok and Sindri stood near the edge of the room, their eyes scanning the scene, while Prince Nuada, Grimgor Ironhide, and the others took their places in a semicircle. Elsa stood at the forefront, her ice-blue eyes glowing with a cold fury that matched the severity of the moment.
Balerion, who had remained mostly silent during the earlier conversation about Ashley's fate, now stood by Elsa's side, his imposing presence silently reinforcing her resolve. The prisoners—Prince Hans, King George, and Prince Otto—stood before them, bound and kneeling, their faces pale with fear as they awaited the judgment that would soon be delivered.
Elsa's voice was steady but carried a bite of authority as she began to list their crimes. "Prince Hans, King George, and Prince Otto of the Southern Isles, you stand before us, not just as traitors to Arendelle, but as agents of chaos and death. Your actions have left countless lives in ruin."
Hans, ever the schemer, tried to maintain his arrogant posture, his eyes flicking nervously between the faces of his captors. "You cannot—" he started, but Elsa's icy glare silenced him instantly.
"I am not done, Hans," Elsa continued, her voice like the crackling of ice. "You sought to marry Anna under false pretenses, knowing you had no intention of being a true king. You attacked Arendelle, nearly destroying everything I hold dear, with no regard for the innocent lives lost in your wake. The blood of my people is on your hands."
A flash of unease passed over Prince Otto's face, though he stubbornly tried to hold his composure. King George, on the other hand, seemed resigned, his shoulders slumped as the weight of his actions caught up to him. "You would have done the same, Elsa," King George spat, his voice bitter. "We only sought to secure the future of the Southern Isles. Your kingdom stood in the way."
Elsa's eyes narrowed at the insult. "Securing your future through treachery and bloodshed? You're nothing more than cowards hiding behind power. Your kingdom was built on deceit. You've made enemies of us all."
"Enough!" Prince Nuada stepped forward, his voice laced with authority. "Your lies have sown division, and your schemes have caused untold suffering. It is clear that you have no honor, and the time for your punishment has come."
Balerion, his golden eyes blazing with the fierceness of a dragon's rage, turned to face the prisoners. "You have not just harmed Arendelle, but the very balance of the realms. You and your actions are the reason we face such turmoil. I would burn you alive where you kneel, but Elsa is more merciful than I."
Brok, his gruff voice echoing across the room, added, "And mercy is a luxury you don't deserve. You'll be judged for your crimes."
Sindri, still quiet as always, looked over the prisoners with disdain. "Aye, we'll be the ones to decide your fate. Your actions speak louder than any excuses you could give."
Elsa's gaze swept back over the three men, her thoughts clear. "You have terrorized the innocent, shattered alliances, and plunged this kingdom into chaos. But the worst crime you've committed is betraying trust, not just mine, but that of my people. You will pay for what you've done."
Prince Hans, now desperate, finally broke. "You can't—" he started, but his voice faltered as Elsa raised her hand, signaling for silence.
"This is not just a matter of revenge," Elsa said, her tone colder than ever. "It is a matter of justice. The Southern Isles will have no place for men like you—men who threaten the peace and lives of others for their own gain."
Prince Otto, his pride broken and his back bowed, looked at Elsa with weary eyes. "Please, Elsa… Spare us," he begged, his voice thick with desperation. "We… we didn't know what we were getting into. It was all a mistake. We didn't intend for this to go so far."
King George, too, lowered his head, his defiance shattered. "It's true," he murmured, though there was no conviction in his words. "Our ambition clouded our judgment. We were blinded by the need for power."
Elsa's eyes softened for the briefest of moments, but the icy resolve never left her heart. "Your remorse is too little, too late. The lives you destroyed cannot be returned. The damage you've caused cannot be undone."
She turned to Prince Nuada, her gaze hardening once again. "It is up to us to decide what happens next, but I will not let you go free. Your actions have shown that mercy has no place here."
Prince Nuada stepped forward, his face unreadable. "The law of our people is clear. You have violated it beyond measure. You will not be allowed to leave here unscathed."
Grimgor Ironhide, watching the proceedings with an impatient growl, spoke up. "I say we hang 'em all and be done with it. No more bloodshed, no more lies. They've caused enough harm."
Kroq-Gar let out a low hiss, his reptilian gaze focused on the prisoners as he considered his next move. "The old ways demand punishment. They have betrayed the balance of power, and their crimes cannot go unpunished."
Elsa turned to Balerion, seeking his counsel. He nodded, his expression hard but filled with understanding. "Do what you must. Justice demands it."
With a final glance at the prisoners, Elsa looked back at her allies. "Let us decide their fate," she said. "This kingdom will not suffer from their actions any longer."
The tension was thick in the room, the air heavy with judgment. As Elsa's words settled, the group prepared for what came next: a decision that would not only affect the fate of Hans, King George, and Prince Otto, but also the future of Arendelle, as well as the fragile peace they had fought so hard to secure. What would be the consequence of their actions?
The air grew still as Balerion's words reverberated throughout the room, carrying an overwhelming weight of finality. His golden eyes shone with the memory of devastation, and his voice, though calm, dripped with an icy venom.
"The Southern Isles is no more," he said, his words slicing through the tension like a blade. "My flames, legendary in their wrath, burned it to the ground, along with everything in it. Every structure, every ship, every piece of land you once called yours is now ash."
The room fell into stunned silence. Prince Otto's face twisted in horror, his hands trembling as he began to grasp the full extent of what Balerion had just confessed. King George's face, already pale with guilt and fear, drained of all color, and he looked as though his world was crashing down around him. His mouth opened in a desperate, almost broken gasp, but no words came.
Elsa's icy gaze was fixed on the prisoners, the cold fury in her eyes now mirrored by Balerion's presence. She had known the dragon's power, but hearing him speak of such utter destruction was something different—a raw, terrifying truth. Arendelle had been spared only by the dragon's intervention, but at a cost far worse than anyone could have anticipated.
"And more twisted still," Balerion continued, his voice growing colder, "I killed King George's eleven other sons in the attack. They were no more than children, yet they were to carry on the legacy of their father. But none of them will ever take the throne now. You," he said, his eyes locking onto King George, "are the last of your bloodline."
King George's face crumpled as the weight of that truth sank in. His eyes, once filled with pride and anger, were now filled with anguish and regret. His mouth opened, but all he could manage was a broken whisper. "No… no… they… they were my sons…"
Ashley, standing among the group, felt the pain in King George's voice, but she knew it was too late for him to turn back now. His actions, his ambition, had led to this—there was no absolution for him.
Prince Otto, shaking with fear and disbelief, pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation, "It was all for the throne… we didn't mean for it to go this far. We didn't—"
Elsa stepped forward, her eyes filled with an icy resolve. "You've lost the kingdom you thought you could steal," she said coldly, "and now your family line is gone, reduced to nothing by your own ambition. No more sons, no more crown, no more legacy."
Balerion's form seemed to grow even larger in the space between them, his shadow looming over the prisoners like a harbinger of death. He did not move closer, but his presence was like an undeniable truth. "What you've done to Arendelle and to those who suffered because of your greed… none of that can be undone. The Southern Isles will never rise again."
Grimgor Ironhide grunted approvingly. "A king who loses his kingdom by his own greed and pride deserves no mercy. If we're judging by what's right, there's no room for forgiveness."
Kroq-Gar, his cold eyes fixed on the prisoners, nodded. "The old ways speak of balance. There can be no peace for those who bring chaos to the world."
Prince Nuada, ever the tactician, studied the prisoners with a quiet intensity. "Their punishment must be equal to their crimes. There is no turning back for them."
Ashley, though her heart was heavy with her own struggles, felt a surge of anger and sorrow for what had been done to Arendelle. "What do we do with them now?" she asked, her voice steady but edged with an unspoken pain. "They have caused so much death, so much destruction. Can we truly allow them to walk away?"
Elsa turned to Ashley, her expression a mix of resolve and sadness. "We cannot undo what's been done. But we can make sure they never cause harm again." She looked to Balerion, who had remained stoic throughout, his eyes locked on the defeated men before them.
"Justice is not always easy," Elsa said, her voice almost a whisper. "But it must be done."
Balerion's gaze softened, just a fraction, and he spoke once more, his voice heavy with finality. "Their fate is in your hands, Elsa. I have given them what they deserve—no more, no less."
The room was silent for a moment, as all eyes turned toward Elsa. The weight of the decision hung in the air like an impending storm.
Elsa's heart pounded in her chest, knowing that whatever she chose would have lasting consequences—not just for the men before her, but for the kingdom and the future of everyone involved. The southern isles were gone. The bloodline of King George was extinguished. Yet the question remained: What would be their final punishment?
The room fell silent as Elsa's decision echoed through the air. Her gaze never wavered as she handed the Valyrian sword Blackfyre back to Balerion, its blackened steel shimmering faintly in the dim light. The weight of the blade seemed to carry the weight of finality itself, a reflection of the death that had claimed so many lives—and now, it would claim more.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Elsa then turned to Anna, passing her the sword Dark Sister, the gleaming blade a stark contrast to the darkened Blackfyre. Anna, her eyes steady and her heart heavy, accepted the sword with a nod of understanding. Though Anna had never before been tasked with such a brutal duty, she knew this was the only way forward. There was no mercy to be had here. These men had crossed a line that no amount of regret could undo.
Elsa's gaze softened slightly as she placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Take Prince Hans. Make it swift," she said softly, her voice laced with an emotion Anna could not quite place.
Anna gave a small nod, her grip tightening on the hilt of Dark Sister. Though she did not look back at Elsa, she understood what was being asked of her. This wasn't just about vengeance—it was about putting an end to a threat that had caused unimaginable pain to their people.
Balerion, standing tall and imposing, took the sword Blackfyre with a steady hand. The blade felt like it belonged in his grip, as if it were forged for this very purpose. He turned to face King George, whose body had been wracked with guilt and fear. The king's earlier defiance had long since faded, replaced by the stark realization that his reign, his family, and his kingdom were all now dust.
King George tried to speak, but his voice trembled. "Please… my sons… I…"
"You had sons," Balerion growled, his voice like thunder in the still air. "Now you have nothing. You burned everything you touched." The dragon's golden eyes pierced the king's very soul. "Your kingdom is gone, your line extinct. And now you will face the consequences."
Without another word, Balerion raised Blackfyre above his head, the blade gleaming with dark promise. King George closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. The next moment, Balerion's strike was swift and unforgiving. King George's head fell from his shoulders, his lifeless body slumping forward onto the stone floor. His reign was finally, utterly, ended.
Anna, who had been watching the execution, turned her gaze back to Prince Hans. The once-ambitious prince, now reduced to a broken man, trembled before her. His earlier confidence had dissolved into pleading and fear. His eyes darted between Elsa and Anna, and he opened his mouth as if to beg for mercy.
"Please… I never meant to—" he began, but Anna's eyes flashed with a fire colder than anything he had ever seen.
"You never meant to? You hurt my sister, you betrayed all of Arendelle," Anna interrupted, her voice low but unwavering. Her grip on Dark Sister tightened as she stepped forward, closing the space between them. "There's no excuse for what you've done."
Prince Hans looked up at her, his eyes wild. "You don't understand! I was just trying to—"
Anna cut him off with a cold, lethal precision, her voice chilling. "Don't bother. Your plans and lies end here." In one smooth motion, Anna swung Dark Sister, the blade slicing through the air like it was cutting through fate itself. Prince Hans' head fell to the floor with a sickening thud, his body crumpling beneath him.
The room was still, heavy with the sound of finality.
Elsa, who had stood watching Balerion and Anna carry out their tasks, felt a strange mix of sorrow and relief. The three men who had been responsible for so much suffering, who had brought chaos and bloodshed to Arendelle and beyond, were gone. Their deaths, while swift, were necessary for the peace that would hopefully follow.
Prince Nuada, Grimgor Ironhide, Kroq-Gar, and the rest of their allies stood silently, their expressions hard and resolute. Each had played their part in bringing the traitors to justice, and now, with the executions carried out, there was a sense of closure—however bitter it might be.
Anna, wiping the blood from Dark Sister, turned to Elsa. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, but there was no hesitation in her voice. "It's done. They're gone."
Elsa nodded, her own heart heavy with the decision she had made, but unwavering in her conviction. "It was necessary. For Arendelle. For our people."
Balerion, now with Blackfyre at his side once more, stepped forward. "Justice has been served, Elsa. But the work is far from over." His golden eyes were fixed on the horizon, the reminder of the battles yet to come lingering in his gaze.
Elsa glanced at her friends, her family—her kingdom. "Yes. There's still much to do. But today, we've taken a stand. For the kingdom, for the future."
With their enemies dead and justice done, the group stood together, united. They had faced betrayal, bloodshed, and loss, but they had emerged stronger, with a renewed sense of purpose. The future was uncertain, but they would face it together, as one.
The air around Arendelle was thick with the scent of fresh timber and the hum of activity. The once-broken kingdom, ravaged by betrayal, was beginning to heal. The destruction caused by Prince Hans and the dark forces that had attempted to claim the throne was still visible in the ruins of the castle walls and the charred remnants of the Southern Isles, but the resilience of its people was already showing.
Prince Nuada's allies, Grimgor Ironhide, Kroq-Gar, General Otmin, Mr. Wink, and others, worked tirelessly alongside Arendelle's citizens. The orc warriors, though fearsome in appearance, had proven to be surprisingly skilled in construction. Their powerful hands built walls and lifted beams with ease. General Otmin, a seasoned tactician, took charge of organizing the efforts with military precision, ensuring the right supplies reached the right places. Mr. Wink, ever the tactician, helped with smaller, more delicate repairs, using his sharp mind to map out the most efficient ways to restore the city's infrastructure.
Brok and Sindri, the master dwarven craftsmen, took the lead in restoring the castle and other vital structures. Their knowledge of architecture and magical craftsmanship turned out to be invaluable, with Brok overseeing the enchantments that would strengthen the castle's walls and Sindri ensuring the city was equipped with tools and weapons for defense. As the two dwarves worked side by side, their sharp banter and focused efforts became the heartbeat of the rebuilding.
Meanwhile, Mimir, with his vast wisdom and knowledge of healing, worked alongside the newly restored Ashley to tend to the wounded. Though Ashley's spirit was not fully her own, she still had the compassion and strength to comfort those in pain. Many came to her, some asking for guidance, others for solace. Mimir offered his wisdom in tandem, his presence a calming force for both Ashley and those seeking help. Together, they helped lay the dead to rest, guiding their souls with respect and honoring the lives lost.
As the work in the castle and city progressed, Anna and Kristoff, alongside Olaf, turned their attention to the refugees—those who had lost their homes in the chaos. The streets of Arendelle were lined with the homeless, people who had lost everything to the attacks. The trio, with Olaf's cheerful presence bringing a much-needed sense of joy, set up food kitchens, distributing warmth and comfort to those in need. Anna, always the compassionate one, spoke with the survivors, offering them hope and reassurance. Kristoff, with his practical nature, helped ensure that the distribution of food and supplies was handled with order and fairness.
Olaf, ever the optimist, did what he could to bring smiles to the faces of those who were most affected by the destruction. His antics, while often comical, had a profound effect on the people. He reminded them that even in the darkest times, laughter could still be found, and that together, they could rebuild.
On the docks and along the shores, Elsa and Balerion worked tirelessly to restore Arendelle's harbor, the heart of its trade. Elsa used her ice magic to solidify the broken piers, sealing cracks in the stone with graceful precision. Balerion, now in his human form, helped coordinate with the traders and merchants from neighboring lands to reestablish trade routes, offering protection and negotiations where necessary. The harbor, once a vital lifeline to Arendelle's economy, was now slowly coming back to life.
But the task was not easy. The Southern Isles had been a key trade partner, and the destruction of their kingdom had caused significant disruption to Arendelle's commerce. Yet, with Balerion's intimidating presence and Elsa's diplomatic skills, they soon secured new trade agreements with surrounding kingdoms, ensuring Arendelle's economy could grow once again.
The work was grueling and took weeks of effort, but slowly, the kingdom began to come back to life. The sound of hammers and chisels echoed throughout the streets, as life returned to the city. The once-ruined castle, now under repair, began to rise from the ashes. The citizens, some of whom had once cowered in fear, now walked with their heads held high. The strength of their unity, the trust they had in their leaders, and the unwavering efforts of those who had fought for them were all part of the reason they were able to rebuild so quickly.
At night, when the work was done and the city rested, Elsa and Balerion would often stand on the balcony overlooking the harbor. They'd watch the ships come and go, a symbol of the kingdom's recovery. Elsa could feel the weight of the decisions she'd made—the executions, the destruction of the Southern Isles—but she also felt a sense of peace. Arendelle would survive. They would rebuild.
Balerion, who had proven to be an unexpected ally and friend, stood by her side, his presence both a source of strength and a reminder of the immense power that had been unleashed in the name of justice. Elsa had come to rely on him, not just for his strength, but for his wisdom. There were few who understood the weight of what they had done—few who could see both the necessity and the cost of their actions.
"It's hard to believe how far we've come," Elsa said one evening, her voice soft, almost to herself.
Balerion looked down at her, his golden eyes warm despite the vast power they held. "You've done something extraordinary, Elsa. This kingdom, these people—they will remember what you've done. And they will honor you for it."
Elsa sighed, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I hope they do. Sometimes I wonder if it was worth the price we paid."
Balerion said nothing at first, but after a moment, he placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a rare moment of comfort. "The price of peace is often steep, but it is always worth it. You've ensured their future."
With a final glance at the harbor, Elsa nodded. "Then we continue. For them. For Arendelle."
And so, the rebuilding continued—slow, steady, and certain. The kingdom, its people, and its rulers would forge ahead, knowing that their strength, unity, and resilience would carry them through the darkest of times.
As the moonlight filtered through the windows of their room, casting a soft glow across the stone walls of the restored castle, a rare moment of peace seemed to settle over Arendelle. The past weeks had been filled with tension, rebuilding, and the steady return to normalcy, but now, in the quiet stillness of the night, the weight of everything seemed to lift, if only for a moment.
Elsa and Balerion stood together by the window, their gazes fixed on the glittering harbor outside, the distant sounds of waves crashing against the shore bringing a sense of calm after the storm. The city, alive with the hum of renewed life, seemed to breathe with a new energy—one of hope, of recovery, of the future.
But even amidst this newfound tranquility, there was something else in the air. A moment of tenderness lingered between them, an unspoken connection that had grown since the battles had ended. Their shared experiences, the pain, the victories, and the understanding they had forged between them had brought them closer than either had imagined.
Balerion turned toward her, his golden eyes soft yet filled with a quiet intensity. Elsa, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned to face him. Her heart, still a little bruised from everything they had endured, began to race as she met his gaze. She had always felt safe in his presence, a sense of calm even in the most tumultuous of times.
Without a word, Balerion dropped to one knee, the gesture completely unexpected yet perfectly fitting for the depth of what he was about to ask. Elsa's breath caught in her throat as she looked down at him, her heart pounding in her chest.
His hand, strong and steady, held out a delicate box—one she hadn't noticed before. He opened it slowly, revealing a beautiful ring, its design intricate and elegant. The gemstone at the center was a deep sapphire, reminiscent of the color of the night sky, surrounded by small diamonds that seemed to shimmer in the low light of the room. It was stunning, a perfect balance of strength and grace, just like the man who now knelt before her.
"Elsa," Balerion's voice was low, filled with sincerity, "We've faced so much together. We've rebuilt what was lost, we've fought for what we believe in, and through it all, you've stood by my side. You have brought peace to a world that has known too much pain, and with that, you've given me something I never thought possible—a future. A chance to be whole again."
He paused, his gaze never leaving hers. His hand trembled slightly, not from uncertainty, but from the weight of what he was about to ask.
"Will you marry me, Elsa? Will you be by my side, not just as a ruler, but as my partner, my equal, for the rest of our days?"
His words hung in the air, soft but heavy, each one filled with emotion. The question was simple, but the meaning behind it was anything but. Balerion had always been a force of immense power, someone who commanded respect, but in this moment, there was vulnerability in his gaze—vulnerability that spoke of his deep love and desire for a future with her.
Elsa stood frozen for a moment, her mind racing as she processed the weight of his words. Her breath caught in her chest, and for the briefest of seconds, she wondered if she was ready. But then, looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there, all her doubts faded away. She had never felt more sure of anything in her life.
Her lips parted in a quiet gasp, and she found herself smiling, the warmth of her emotions breaking through the cold walls she had built around her heart over the years.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of joy and relief. "Yes, Balerion. I will marry you."
Balerion's face broke into a rare, tender smile, his heart swelling with happiness. He slid the ring onto her finger with a gentle movement, the action both simple and profound. He rose to his feet, and in that instant, all the battles, the darkness, the hardships of the past seemed to vanish in the glow of their shared moment.
Elsa stepped into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as she closed the space between them. They stood there for a long while, their foreheads pressed together, simply breathing each other in.
"I love you," Balerion murmured, his voice hushed against her skin.
"I love you, too," Elsa whispered back, her heart full and unburdened for the first time in what felt like forever.
The future, once so uncertain, now felt within reach. Together, they would face whatever came next, not as separate forces but as one. Their union would be a symbol of the hope they had fought so hard to restore to the world—a love that had survived the darkest of times and now, in the light of their shared peace, would flourish.
In that moment, as they stood together, the world outside seemed to pause, and for the first time, the kingdom of Arendelle felt truly whole again.
As Elsa held Balerion, her fiancé, in the quiet sanctuary of their room, she felt a warmth she hadn't realized she'd been missing—a sense of belonging and peace that had eluded her for so long. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face buried against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. For the first time, there was no weight on her shoulders, no burden of responsibility pressing down. In this moment, she was simply Elsa, and he was simply Balerion.
The world outside their window, the once-broken kingdom of Arendelle, now stood in the process of healing. The bustling city below was a testament to their efforts—citizens working together, rebuilding what had been destroyed. It wasn't perfect, but it was strong, and that strength mirrored the bond Elsa felt with Balerion. Together, they had overcome so much, and together, they would face whatever came next.
Balerion, his arms wrapped around her as well, lifted his head slightly, his golden eyes watching the recovery unfold outside. The light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the city, its colors rich and vibrant against the blue and gold of the horizon. The once-dying city now seemed full of promise, much like their future.
A smile tugged at his lips, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Elsa.
"When should we tell the others?" he asked softly, his voice low but laced with a quiet joy. "About us, I mean. Our engagement."
Elsa paused, her fingers gently tracing the edge of his jaw, as though memorizing the feel of his skin. For so long, she had carried the weight of her kingdom and her family's expectations, her emotions held back by the fear of losing control. But with Balerion, she felt free in a way she never had before. Still, the thought of sharing this news with everyone, of making it real beyond the two of them, felt both exciting and overwhelming.
"Do you think they'll understand?" Elsa asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "We've been through so much… They've seen everything we've done together. But this… it's different. This is something personal. It's our choice."
Balerion smiled, the warmth in his eyes reassuring her. He cupped her face gently, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "They've seen how we've fought for each other, Elsa. They know the bond we share. The love that's grown between us. I think they'll understand that this, too, is part of that same journey. You don't have to carry this alone anymore, not with me."
Elsa's heart fluttered at his words. There was no doubt in her mind that the people who mattered most to them—Anna, Kristoff, the allies they had fought alongside—would accept their decision. But there was something tender in the thought of finally revealing their relationship to the world. To make it official. To let everyone know that the power of their love had triumphed over all.
After a moment of quiet contemplation, Elsa smiled, a soft, knowing smile that carried both the weight of their past and the hope of their future.
"I think tomorrow is as good a time as any," she said, her voice steady but full of warmth. "We'll share it with Anna and Kristoff first. They're family. Then we'll tell the others. It's time."
Balerion's smile deepened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, the softness of the gesture a stark contrast to the fierceness with which he had fought beside her. He was gentle now, but she knew he would stand beside her with the same unyielding strength when it mattered most.
"I look forward to it," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. "But no matter how they react, I know one thing for certain: I will always be by your side."
Elsa's heart soared as she rested her head against his chest once more, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. For the first time, she felt as though the weight of her responsibilities had lifted. With Balerion beside her, she knew they could face anything. Together.
As they stood there, their eyes gazing over the recovering city, a sense of peace washed over them both. Arendelle was healing, their love was blossoming, and the future was full of endless possibilities. The world had been through darkness, but now, in the light of a new day, they would face it hand in hand. And that was all that mattered.
Tomorrow, they would share the news with their friends, with their family. But for now, in this quiet moment, they were simply Elsa and Balerion—two souls intertwined, watching the sunrise of a new beginning.
The night air in Arendelle was cool and crisp, the city now quiet under the gentle light of the moon. But as Balerion stood at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the land with Elsa beside him, a sudden shift in the atmosphere made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
For the first time in years, a sensation that he had long since forgotten began to stir deep within him. It was a feeling so familiar, yet so ancient—one that had not visited him since the days of Aegon's Conquest. Two dragons, immense and powerful, drawing nearer. But these were not just any dragons. No, these were dragons he had once known, and they were not of this world alone.
Meraxes and Vhagar.
Balerion's heart skipped a beat as the very air around him seemed to tremble with their presence. Their essence, their power, reached out to him across the horizon, stirring something in him that he thought had long been buried. The ancient bond between them, forged in fire and blood, was undeniable. As he looked out into the sky, he could see the shadow of their massive wings approaching, the unmistakable shape of two dragons soaring toward Arendelle.
Elsa turned to him, her eyes wide with concern as she felt the sudden shift in his demeanor. "What's happening, Balerion?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
He could barely respond, his gaze locked on the sky, the two dragons growing larger with each passing second. His thoughts raced. This can't be real… But there they were—Meraxes and Vhagar, ancient creatures of the Targaryen bloodline, coming home to him.
The people of Arendelle, and the diverse races gathered under Prince Nuada's banner, stood in awe as the massive dragons emerged from the darkened sky. The orcs, elves, trolls, ogres, Minotaurs, and lizardmen that made up the army of Prince Nuada's forces looked on in reverence. For them, this was no mere spectacle—it was the return of something far greater.
Balerion's heart pounded as the dragons circled above, their mighty wings cutting through the air like thunder. His connection to them was undeniable, and as they drew closer, he felt their power surge through his veins.
Meraxes, with her shimmering scales of iridescent blue and silver, flew with grace and elegance, her eyes bright with intelligence and fierceness. Vhagar, dark and imposing, flew alongside her, her green scales gleaming in the moonlight, exuding strength and dominance.
The two dragons called out to Balerion in a language older than time itself. Their roars, though loud enough to rattle the earth, were not threatening. Instead, they seemed to be an invitation, a message—a reunion long awaited.
"They've come for me," Balerion muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He could feel their presence in his very soul, as if they had always been a part of him, waiting for the right moment to return.
Elsa looked up at him, her eyes filled with awe and confusion. "What does this mean, Balerion? Who are they?"
"They are the other heads of the three-headed dragon," he explained, his voice low and reverent. "Meraxes and Vhagar. Ancient dragons of my bloodline, of the Targaryen dynasty. When I fought in the wars of old, they fought with me. We were unstoppable, together."
As the two dragons landed, their massive forms causing the earth to tremble beneath them, Balerion felt a surge of emotion unlike any he had known in years. The weight of their return was not just personal—it was symbolic. The three-headed dragon was whole once again.
Meraxes lowered her head to Balerion's level, her bright eyes gleaming with recognition, as if she remembered the bond they once shared. Vhagar, ever the stoic one, stood beside her, her fiery breath still swirling in the air. There was no need for words; the dragons were a living testament to the legacy of power that Balerion had once wielded.
Elsa stood beside Balerion, her heart pounding as she took in the sight of the two dragons. Her breath caught in her throat as the reality of the moment settled in. She had known Balerion was powerful, but this… this was something beyond comprehension.
"Are they here to stay?" Elsa asked, her voice soft with awe.
Balerion nodded, his expression resolute. "They are. Together, we will be a force unlike any other."
Just as Balerion was about to speak, a voice echoed through the crowd, strong and commanding. Prince Nuada stepped forward, his eyes wide with a mix of reverence and curiosity. "It seems the legends were true," he said, his voice filled with awe. "The three-headed dragon was not just a myth. It is real, and the final heads have returned."
The crowd around them, from the orcs to the elves, watched in silence as the dragons took their place by Balerion's side. The air was thick with the weight of history, of power, of destiny. These dragons were more than just beasts—they were symbols of an era that had long passed, and now, they had returned to usher in a new one.
Balerion turned to Elsa, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is only the beginning," he said. "With Meraxes and Vhagar at my side, we will rebuild what was lost, and we will forge a future stronger than ever before. Together."
Elsa gazed up at the dragons, then back at Balerion, her heart swelling with pride. She knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. The past, with its chaos and destruction, was behind them. The future, now with the three-headed dragon reunited, was theirs to shape.
And in that moment, as Meraxes and Vhagar spread their wings once more, a sense of destiny washed over them both. The world had changed, but with these dragons by their side, they knew that they would reign over it with strength, love, and an unbreakable bond.
As Meraxes and Vhagar landed, their massive forms dwarfing the city of Arendelle, the entire kingdom seemed to hold its breath. The ground rumbled with the weight of their arrival, and the sky, once dark and quiet, was now filled with the echo of their roars. The people of Arendelle, from its highest towers to the streets below, stared in awe as the two dragons took their place by Balerion's side, their power undeniable, their presence overwhelming.
It was then that the silence was broken, as Grimgor Ironhide, his massive orcish frame bowed slightly, and with a deep, rumbling voice, he proclaimed, "By the strength of the dragons and the bond they share with ye, Balerion, ye are King of the Dragons. The land of Arendelle, and all who stand under its banner, shall follow ye as their ruler."
Behind him, the other members of Prince Nuada's diverse and formidable army followed suit. Legolas, with his graceful, elven poise, bowed with a deep respect, his golden eyes meeting Balerion's with a silent acknowledgment of the power he now wielded. Kroq Gar, the massive lizardman, lowered his head in a rare show of respect. General Otmin, the war-hardened minotaur, thudded his fists against his chest in reverence. Even Mr. Wink, Nuada's personal friend bowed down.
One by one, the leaders of the army, including Nuada himself, knelt before Balerion, recognizing his rightful place as ruler—not just of dragons, but now, in a sense, of Arendelle itself. The significance was clear: the power of the dragons had returned, and with it, Balerion's influence extended beyond his kin. The land, the people, and the forces that had once fought alongside him now looked to him as their sovereign.
But the declaration did not stop with the armies. The citizens of Arendelle, those who had witnessed the horrors of Hans' rule and the devastation it had wrought, now saw something new on the horizon—a future shaped by strength and love. Brok and Sindri, the master blacksmiths, stood side by side, watching as Balerion's legend became reality.
Mimir, ever the wise and aged figure, nodded in approval. He could feel the weight of this moment, the passing of the torch, so to speak. His thoughts were silent but filled with meaning—Arendelle's future was in capable hands.
New Ashley, with her gentle soul and fierce heart, was the next to kneel, as her connection to Balerion's destiny grew clearer. Her eyes met his, acknowledging both her own transformation and the profound significance of what had just happened.
Anna, with Kristoff by her side, watched in awe. Kristoff's arm was around her shoulder, his eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and gratitude. Anna, ever the optimist, smiled warmly at Balerion, her expression one of pride for the man who had helped to restore peace to their world. As the people around them knelt, Anna and Kristoff shared a glance, silently agreeing that the future held more promise than they had ever imagined.
Olaf, as always, was a bundle of joy, though there was a certain reverence in his playful nature as he too bent down. "This is going to be an exciting new chapter, I just know it!" he said, his usual enthusiasm tempered with the weight of the moment.
Finally, Elsa, standing beside Balerion, her love and support unwavering, looked out at the gathered crowd, her heart full. This moment was monumental, not just for Balerion, but for all of Arendelle. She had never imagined that her love would lead them here—that they would one day stand together with dragons by their side and an army behind them.
With a deep breath, she placed her hand in Balerion's, her gaze steady. "This is your moment," she whispered. "This is your kingdom, now."
Balerion's heart swelled with pride as he looked over the kneeling assembly—both the mighty warriors who had stood by his side and the citizens of Arendelle who had once only known him as a warrior, a ally, a friend, family. Now, he was their king in a way that went beyond power and rule. His heart, bound to Elsa, and now to the dragons, was full of purpose.
He raised his head high, addressing the crowd with a voice that carried the weight of history and the promise of the future. "Arendelle will prosper under my rule, as will the people who dwell here," Balerion said, his voice steady and commanding. "But it will not be through fear or force alone. We will rebuild what was lost, honor those who fought with us, and create a new world where love and strength guide our path."
The dragons, Meraxes and Vhagar, roared in unison behind him, a deep, resonant sound that shook the earth beneath their feet. The people of Arendelle, their hearts filled with awe, knew that they had not just witnessed a declaration of kingship, but the beginning of something far greater. A new era had dawned—one that would be shaped by dragons, by loyalty, by love, and by the unbreakable bond that held them all together.
Elsa smiled softly, standing by his side as his queen. With Balerion's strength, the dragons' might, and the unity of their people, the future of Arendelle—and perhaps the world—was in the hands of those who had earned it.
And together, with their allies and the power of dragons, they would face whatever came next.
The air was still thick with the energy of the moment, the city of Arendelle still abuzz with the aftershocks of Balerion's declaration. But for the first time in what felt like ages, Balerion's eyes softened as he looked at Elsa, Anna, and the others. He could sense their excitement, their wonder at the dragons' arrival—and he wanted to offer them something special, a new experience to mark the beginning of a new era.
"Would you like to ride with us?" Balerion asked, his voice full of warmth, though tinged with the gravity of the moment. His gaze fell first on Elsa, then on Anna, and finally, on the pair of master blacksmiths, Brok and Sindri. His immense form shifted slightly, a subtle ripple of power flowing through him as his eyes glowed with the promise of flight.
Elsa's eyes widened in surprise, her heart racing at the thought of flying once more, this time alongside Balerion himself in his dragon form. She had been carried by the dragon in the past, but this time it was different—she would ride with him, not just on his back, but as part of him, as his queen.
She stepped forward, her voice soft but filled with eagerness. "Yes. I'd love that."
Anna, ever the adventurer, grinned at the idea. "I want to ride Vhagar! If Balerion is going to take Elsa, then Vhagar is mine!" she declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Brok and Sindri, ever the duo of rough charm and mischief, exchanged glances before raising their mugs of ale. They had no intention of missing out on this once-in-a-lifetime experience. "Aye, we'll ride with Meraxes. Just don't go too fast, eh? We've got ale to keep steady," Brok said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with the kind of bravado that only a seasoned warrior and craftsman could possess.
Sindri raised his mug in salute. "May as well enjoy the ride and the view. We've earned it, after all."
With a knowing nod, Balerion allowed his body to morph once more into the massive dragon form that had once been a symbol of fear and power. His colossal frame shifted before them, wings unfurling, and the air around them crackling with magic as he returned to his true form. The ground trembled beneath his feet as his head, towering over the group, lowered to meet them.
Elsa smiled up at him, a sense of wonder filling her heart as she approached. With a graceful motion, she climbed onto Balerion's scaled back, her fingers gently brushing the heat of his scales as she settled into place. She could feel his strength beneath her, and the bond between them surged to life.
Anna, eager and excited, immediately found her place beside Vhagar, whose massive form was just as intimidating and awe-inspiring. The ancient dragon let out a low rumble, acknowledging Anna's presence. With a gleam in her eyes, Anna climbed up onto Vhagar's back, feeling a thrill of exhilaration.
Brok and Sindri, already prepared, hoisted themselves onto Meraxes. The dragon, with her shimmering blue and silver scales, greeted them with a soft but powerful growl. The pair of blacksmiths chuckled, raising their mugs high as they found their seats, their bond with the dragon evident as Meraxes shifted under their weight, ready for flight.
Balerion looked over his shoulder at Elsa, his eyes warm and proud. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice now a deep rumble that vibrated through the air.
With a powerful beat of his wings, Balerion launched himself into the sky, his massive form soaring upward. Elsa gasped in awe as they ascended, the world below shrinking away. The cool night air rushed past them, the sound of his wings cutting through the wind filling her ears as they flew high above the land.
Anna, riding Vhagar, felt the exhilaration flood through her. The great dragon's wings beat steadily as they climbed into the sky, and she let out a joyful laugh, her hands gripping tightly as the wind whipped through her hair. "This is incredible!" she shouted, her voice carried by the wind.
Meanwhile, Brok and Sindri, on Meraxes, had their own kind of joy. The two of them settled into their seats, ale mugs still in hand, though a bit more careful with the drink now. Meraxes flew smoothly through the air, her wings cutting gracefully through the sky. Brok couldn't help but raise his mug in a toast to the sky, grinning broadly. "To dragons and good ale!" he called out.
Sindri chuckled beside him, holding his mug up as well. "Aye, and to Arendelle's new king!"
As they flew higher and higher, the full moon now casting its glow over the land below, Balerion's mighty wings sliced through the night air. He soared with elegance and power, his massive form cutting through the sky like a force of nature. Elsa clung to him, her heart racing, but the trust between them made her feel more alive than ever before.
The world below seemed so small now. Arendelle, with its shimmering harbor and recovering city, stretched out beneath them, a symbol of their strength and unity. The diverse group of races who had come together under Prince Nuada's banner looked up in awe at the dragons above, witnessing the magnificence of the trio in flight.
Balerion, with Elsa riding proudly at his side, took them all on a flight that was not just a journey through the skies, but a symbol of a new era. One where dragons and humans stood together, united by strength, love, and a shared future.
As the dragons flew on, their massive wings creating powerful gusts of wind, the group could feel the weight of the moment—this was a turning point, a new beginning for both Arendelle and the dragons. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, soaring into the future as one.
The night sky over Arendelle was alive with the brilliance of the dragons' power. Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes, united in their majestic flight, soared above the city, their immense wings beating in perfect synchronization. The moonlight shimmered off their scales, casting an ethereal glow over the recovering city below.
Then, as if on cue, the three dragons reared back and unleashed torrents of fire into the sky. Balerion's fire blazed a deep, molten red, streaking across the heavens like a comet. Vhagar's flames burned with a golden intensity, spiraling upward in a brilliant arch that seemed to set the stars themselves ablaze. Meraxes, her blue scales shimmering in the night, released a torrent of icy-blue fire that shimmered with an almost otherworldly beauty, contrasting with the fiery hues of her companions.
The flames shot into the sky, painting the dark expanse above with colors that seemed to have no end. The city of Arendelle below watched in awe, the people pausing in their rebuilding efforts to look up at the spectacle unfolding above them. The fires seemed to dance in the air, creating an ever-changing tapestry of light and power. It was a moment of unity between the dragons and the people—a symbol of the strength and promise of the future.
As the flames blazed high, lighting up the night sky, Grimgor Ironhide and Kroq Gar stood side by side, a barrel of ale between them. Both seasoned warriors, they had seen many battles and felt the weight of countless struggles, but tonight, they were at peace, caught up in the awe of the moment.
Grimgor let out a deep, rumbling laugh as he took a hearty swig from the barrel. "By Gork and Mork, this is a show worth watching!" he said, his tusks gleaming in the light of the firestorm above. "A good fire to celebrate a good victory."
Kroq Gar, the stoic lizardman, nodded in agreement, his sharp, amber eyes reflecting the flames as he took a drink as well. "The dragons… they will bring about a new era for all of us," he rumbled, his voice heavy with both respect and understanding. "Power like that… it's not something we see every day."
Grimgor raised his mug in a slow, deliberate motion, his grin widening. "Aye, a new era indeed. And may it be a good one," he said, clinking his mug against Kroq Gar's. "To the dragons and to Balerion. May the fires of the old world burn away, and may the new one rise from the ashes."
Kroq Gar nodded, his gaze fixed on the flames. "To Balerion. King of Dragons."
They both drank deeply from their barrel, the laughter and cheers of the warriors behind them rising in response. The heat from the flames above mingled with the warmth of the ale, and for a moment, it felt like everything in the world had fallen into place. The battles had been fought, the victories won, and now it was time to celebrate the fruits of their labor.
Meanwhile, Elsa, Anna, and the others, still high up on the dragons' backs, watched the spectacle below. Elsa, her heart full, looked over at Balerion, her hand resting on his massive neck. "This is incredible," she whispered, her voice full of wonder. "It's like the very sky is celebrating with us."
Balerion's deep voice rumbled beneath her, a hint of a smile in his tone. "The flames of the dragons are not just for destruction—they are a symbol of rebirth. This city, this kingdom, is beginning again, just like the fire in the sky."
Anna, riding high on Vhagar, couldn't contain her excitement. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking down at the people of Arendelle below, all of them cheering and celebrating under the fiery display. "It's like a victory party in the sky!" she laughed, her voice ringing out. "This is the best celebration ever!"
The three dragons continued their fire show, lighting up the night, their power and majesty undeniable. The city of Arendelle below responded with equal fervor, its people celebrating not just the end of a dark era, but the dawn of a new age—one where dragons and men stood together, united in strength and purpose.
And as the fires blazed above, Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes circled higher, their massive forms casting long shadows over the land, a promise of peace and prosperity to come. The sky itself seemed to answer with a firestorm of its own, a symphony of flames that would echo in the hearts of Arendelle's people for years to come.
As the dragons soared above the city, their massive wings cutting through the air, a subtle change began to ripple through the crowd below. The atmosphere, charged with the raw energy of the dragons' flames, softened as the faintest notes of a familiar song began to play.
The haunting melody of Game of Thrones filled the air, its stirring, regal tones reverberating across the land. It was as if the song itself had always belonged to this moment—the sound of an ancient world giving way to a new era. The music began slow and deliberate, building in intensity as the dragons flew in perfect formation over the people of Arendelle.
Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes flew high above, casting their enormous shadows over the recovering city. The flames from earlier still smoldered in the sky, but the music now seemed to guide the scene, adding depth to the spectacle. The world below stood still for a moment, caught in the majesty of the flight and the weight of the music that carried it.
Elsa, still perched on Balerion's back, felt the swell of emotion in her chest. The song's opening notes made her heart race, and she looked around at the people below, seeing them look up in awe at the dragons, their faces filled with wonder and hope. This was the beginning of something profound—a future shaped by the very creatures of legend.
Anna, equally captivated by the moment, looked toward the city, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. "It's like something out of a dream," she murmured, her voice filled with awe as the melody of the song swirled around them.
Balerion's wings beat in time with the music, a rhythmic motion that seemed almost intentional, as if the song itself had called the dragons into flight. The night sky was illuminated by the fire and majesty of their presence, while the music tied it all together into a story of rebirth and unity.
As the dragons flew over Arendelle, the people below gathered together, some holding their breath in reverence, others raising their arms in celebration. The song built, lifting the spirits of all who heard it. The melodic strings and powerful brass blended with the ethereal sound of the dragons' roars, creating a harmony of fire and song that felt like a divine declaration.
Grimgor Ironhide, his mug still in hand, looked up at the spectacle, a wide grin on his face. "Aye, this is a moment worth living for," he said to Kroq Gar, who nodded with his characteristic stoicism, but his gaze too was fixed on the dragons above, his thoughts a mixture of respect and awe.
Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes circled one final time, their massive wings flapping as they climbed higher, silhouetted against the night sky. The music swelled one last time, and with a final flare of fire from the dragons' breath, the song reached its crescendo, filling the air with a triumphant, resounding note.
As the music slowly faded, the three dragons ascended into the heavens, leaving behind a trail of sparks and embers in the sky. The people of Arendelle watched them disappear into the distance, their spirits lifted, their hopes renewed. It was a moment of peace, of power, and of a new beginning for all who called the city home.
The music had done its work. It had bound the past and the future together, marking the arrival of a new age for Arendelle—one led by dragons, and by the bond between Elsa, Anna, and Balerion.
As the last notes faded, Balerion's voice echoed softly in Elsa's ear, "This is only the beginning, my queen."
And as she looked down at the city of Arendelle, now bathed in the afterglow of the dragons' flight and the power of the music, she knew it was true. The song wasn't just a melody—it was the herald of a new era. An era where dragons and humans would forge their future together.
And that's the end of this chapter. Yep. Both Vhagar and Meraxes are now in the story. I will plan on them having human forms soon but for now they're stuck as dragons for the time being. Until next time it's chaoskeeten.