Armor

"Hello, hello!"

The brute's pure white smile was sickening. He looked too serene for someone who had an angry ice wielder in front of him.

"I'll give you one chance of surrendering," Elsa said. She stepped forward and stopped when the entire assembly was behind her. She could protect them easily with her ice that way.

Jack and Roger did not move.

Why is he still standing his ground?

Roger laughed. "I'm glad. You came by a lot earlier than I thought."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes. Surrender."

Does he find me intimidating at all?

"Oh, but this is in all seriousness. Tell me. Where is the Demon?"

He doesn't even bother to use his name.

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Because I'm sure you understand. You may not mean harm, but he did."

Elsa quickly scanned the courtyard. There were twenty of them, deployed everywhere around her. Most of them were already in her back, leaving only the two leaders and four goons in front of her. She had to show them how determined she was.

Now, she only had to wait for the signal. Which was running a bit late.

"He pretends like he is this innocent victim of fate, cursed with power. But I saw who he is, saw what he did," Roger continued. "While I truly regret what I'll do to you, I do not what I'll do to him. And if he thinks he can buy his humanity back by protecting the girl—"

"Here's where you're wrong…"

There it is.

She slammed her right foot on the ground; her ice rushed from the point of impact in a frenzied dash and coursed towards the mercenaries behind her. Before any of them could act and dart away, their legs were glued to the ground. The ice climbed up their bodies and firmly pinned them in place.

In the meantime, five frozen arrows whistled and struck the few she couldn't reach, knocking their weapons away. Roger and Jack dodged to their sides, leaving only the steaming ends of the projectiles where they had been standing.

Garret landed behind them with a crushing thud and lifted his bow with two more arrows drawn. "The girl doesn't need protection."

Elsa allowed herself a cocky smile. Starting with that was indeed more efficient.

"Surrender," she repeated.

Roger's wide eyes betrayed something she'd hoped she would see. Surprise. It didn't last long, however. The surprise was quickly replaced by a more focused intent.

"Jack!"

His lieutenant bolted from behind him towards Garret. The latter released his arrows. The first hit Jack's shoulder, the second was deflected by the leather cuirass on his chest. Neither of the two seemed to daunt him. He slammed into Garret with the full force of a bull and brutally pressed him against the rampart. All Arendelle winced and gasped at the resonating crash's echo.

Elsa and Roger followed them both, but the witch hunter had already cocked his firearm and aimed at her. Anna bolted to her feet, followed by Kristoff and all the guards present.

"Stop! All of you! Or I swear I'll shoot her where she stands," he shouted. "I said I would try to purify them, but if you continue, I'll choose the easy way."

Under the sights of a gun, everyone had no choice but to obey. Behind her, Elsa heard the rustle of several boots. The four non-frozen mercenaries were back, their weapons in hand.

Jack broke off the arrow embedded in his shoulder. "You should aim for the legs next time," he snarled as he pushed his forearm harder against Garret's throat. The 'Demon' spluttered, struggling to breathe. His injured side was probably pinned hard against the wall.

"Ease off, Jack," Roger said as he walked closer, his gun still facing Elsa. "I need him able to speak. And I swore I'd purify him." The gigantic man took a step back but kept his frying pan of a hand over Garret's neck. "Though you're starting to be more trouble than your death will be worth, Demon."

"I like to play hard to get," he hardly uttered.

"I'll miss that sarcasm of yours when you're gone. But before all that, I have a few questions for you. First of all, do these people know what you've done?"

Garret threw his gaze toward Elsa. "They do."

Roger seemed to catch the fleeting glance they exchanged. "Allow me to doubt that. Snow Queen. Did he tell you about my brother? Did he tell you about Liam the Witch-Hunter?"

"He told me enough to know that he's someone I would despise profoundly," Elsa gnarled.

"Was, dear. Was. This bastard here killed him. Didn't give him a chance to defend himself. He killed him in his home, and I was there to see it. I saw this one's armor face to face, and then the body."

Elsa didn't know what to make of that piece of information. She had theorized some probable scenarios, but none had gone that far. Had he truly done it?

Jack punched his captive's gut, drawing a breathless gasp. "Don't move."

"Liam came to me when I was young, told me of his mission, asked me to join him," Roger continued. "I refused. Witches could not exist, I thought; they were products of dark times' obscurantism. Instead, I worked for my country, joined the army. And when I returned to his bloodied carcass and a devil of ice standing before it, I knew I had been wrong. I must thank the Lord for you, Demon. You showed me his way was the righteous one. You showed me his mission was necessary. You made me believe. Tell her. Tell her you did it. Make her believe, as you made me."

She crossed Garret's eyes once more; he stared at her with vigor, the fire in his gaze denying Roger's claim. Her heart believed him. Was it right to do so?

Elsa trusted Garret. They would sort that out later.

"Your belief—is as pretentious as it's dumb," Garret said.

Roger's face turned red. "You will SHUT UP!" He pivoted and fired his gun into Garret's leg without warning. The sound of the gunshot hung in the air. No one reacted. Not even Garret.

Elsa stared limply into the hole in his pants. The impact still hadn't registered. And when it finally did, something told her not to panic. Roger had fired into his left leg. Lower left leg.

She took the opportunity. Roger was focused on something else. Elsa threw her hand and her magic. A block of crystal materialized between the hunters and Garret, pushing Jack away. Behind her, Anna had jumped on the remaining mercenaries, followed by whoever was close enough, driving them to the exterior corner.

She wanted to summon more of her ice, but exhaustion was beginning to make itself heard all around her body.

Garret summoned a spear and deflected another gunshot that had targeted his other leg. He jumped, aiming for Roger.

The latter dashed to the right to escape the frozen tip of the spear and reached inside his coat. This new gun was different. He fired it to the sky, a ball of red light and flame exploding several feet up.

The wall exploded into steaming fragments of burning stone. Elsa reflexively brought her arms up in defense; hopefully, her ice would follow her movement with grace and power. Garret jumped in as well, darting forward to slam the base of the shattered surface with his fist. Ice sprang from ground and sky, twirling around the countless shards and sharp pebbles flying around. A mix of dust and vapor projected in all directions, covering the courtyard in a thick veil of heavy mist that slowly rose to graze the castle's higher levels.

Arendelle's people coughed the cloud away, the sound of clearing throats the only way Elsa could still know there were people around her. The veil dissipated after a few moments as she waved her hands before her face, using her right arm to cover her eyes from the potentially dangerous fog.

Beyond the smog of undefined silhouettes, the entrance to Arendelle Castle was completely blocked by large chunks of satin broken rock. And behind the crushed obstacle, she could discern the shapes of Hopkin's Blessed fleeing into the hills in a quick and trained sprint. They were too far for anything she could throw at them to reach them that wouldn't be endangering everyone around her. She now mastered her powers a lot better than the previous year but attempting something at such distance was still something she had to work on.

An enormous wave of solid ice took most of the space at her right, where the explosion had been contained in a frozen blast of spikes and rock.

She sighed audibly. Garret had been right.

That Roger is annoying. And dangerous.

But at least now he was pinned against the fjord. They had to go after him.

Her hands clung to her dress in an almost painful grip. Only then did she realize how much they were shaking. She laid them before her eyes, taking a few seconds to calm her racing heart. The trembling diminished, but the extremities of her fingers still leaked out some steam.

The gloom settled with some rattles right and left, the view clearing progressively. Elsa threw her gaze all around her, first on Anna and Kristoff, then on her people, her castle and her home. A light wince brought her attention to her left.

Garret stood to his feet with a hand on his back. The injury was taking its toll on his stamina. The soldier then checked on his right hand with a curious scowl before coming to his left leg with a fleeting shift of his glance, examining in a sweep the hole created by that bullet. He passed his hand over the gaping opening; his ice crackled and crinkled, turning inside out like a frozen kaleidoscope until the mortal pellet of powder and metal was ejected. He carelessly flicked it away from him and closed the hole as if nothing had happened. The small projectile dinged against the ground, its ringing echoing against her ears and snapping her out of her silent observation. Her hands started shaking once again, but this time it wasn't adrenaline pulsing through her veins, pushed into every inch of her body by her speeding heart. It wasn't fear either. Nor worry. Was it anger? No, she'd felt that one plenty when facing Hans before sending him back home tangled in shame and iron. It was very similar to that. Familiar.

The questioning in her mind she didn't really stop to contemplate much further. Her feet had already started moving on their own. She registered her stomping and the loud clicking of her heels someplace in her head but didn't act on it. Her vision and entire being were concentrated on one thing. Or rather one person.

How can he?

Her knuckles tightened without asking her first. Garret noticed her coming and flashed her a relieved smile. Relieved, but still sad. And then, she understood what she was feeling. Frustration.

How can he not see it?

"There," he said in his cheerful tone that she could now understand was barely a façade. Only now did she see the slight arch at the corners of his lips, the absence of creases around his eyes. That's how she always knew his smile was sad. "You have your castle back. We still must go after them, but that's one less thing to worry about."

She considered slapping him. Very seriously. But it wasn't her goal. She didn't want to be that person. The hard way did not work. Her thirteen years alone had taught her that. Which made the restraint she exerted herself to display all the more frustrating.

She ignored his sentence and did not stop until her face was mere inches away from his. Her right hand dashed up and came to pinch his cheek.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Garret yelped. The pale tint immediately gave way to a reddening halo around her nails. She twisted a bit more and finally let his cheek go. He reeled back, putting his own hand over the—surely sorely painful—side of his face. "Ouch, that hurt! What is this all about?"

Elsa shot her gaze behind her with a suppressed grunt and pointed to where he had been held a few seconds ago.

"What was that all about?" she fired back, her finger then coming towards his ice prosthesis.

Garret was stunned into silence. He stared limply into her eyes, not answering her question. He turned to Anna and Kristoff and lifted a hand. "Umm. Little help?"

Elsa followed him and for the first time in her life, gave an unspoken order to her family.

Don't.

"You're on your own, buddy," Kristoff answered.

"Now you know what it feels like, sis'" Anna added with a shrug.

"No arrow or ice leg is getting you out of this one," Elsa continued as soon as she focused back on him, her hands now on her hips. By the sounds of it, she was barely containing the tremor in her voice, even though she was working hard at it. "You could have been killed by that bullet! What if he had shot a bit further up? What if he had chosen the other leg?"

Garret's expression hardened. "He didn't."

"What if he had? We can't just decide that everything's okay because everything turned out okay."

"It was that or let you take the bullet."

"No, it wasn't! You could have just shut it and he wouldn't have shot anything."

"You don't know him."

"I'm starting to know you." Garret slightly perked up. The green flare of the sun's rays bouncing on his iris met her scowl. "I know you wanted to bring the attention to yourself. I know you don't care what happens to you. I would be blind not to see it. And I won't let you. I refuse to let you." The warm fuzzing in her eyes told her that her tears had started climbing without her consent. Had her body developed its own will and now decided it would be doing everything by itself? "Don't tell me that wasn't your intention. I've been in those shoes before. It won't work on me."

His head dropped low. He couldn't even look her in the eye now. If that wasn't an admission of guilt, she didn't know what was.

"You're not expendable. And I hate that you think you are," Elsa concluded.

She stormed past him. Any longer and it would have been impossible to contain the anger. She wasn't going to blame him. How could she?

I know what it feels like.

And that simple fact probably made her the only person who shouldn't be scolding him. But after everything, seeing him so obviously ready to throw his life away… She thought her talking with him had made him aware that he was worth the trouble.

Elsa would have a long discussion with him afterward. She blinked her tears back and stopped before Einar.

"Are you all right, Captain?" she asked in worry. He was still clutching his abdomen, the mark of numerous hits still very acutely showing on his body.

"I am, majesty. I'll—I'll just need a few minutes and I'll be able to lead the Guard in pursu—"

He couldn't finish his sentence—he coughed violently, a pang of excruciating pain surging through him.

"No, you're not," she soothed with calm. Greta was already at his side, inspecting his injuries. "Please, take care of anyone who would need it. I'll take a few men and chase those scoundrels down or out of this country."

She stood back up, and she somehow knew who was standing behind her.

"You're right," he said.

She built up a long breath and sighed. "I know."

"And I apologize."

Elsa smiled to the ground. Maybe the pinching had been worth the while. She faced him, and the fire in his eyes was back, just like that same morning. Just like the day before, in the cavern. Just like when he laughed. Actually laughed. He needed reminders too.

"I accept your apology. If you promise never to pull something like that again," she said. An idea sprang into her mind. "Or better yet, give me an oath."

He grinned. There it was.

"We'll… talk about that once we're done with this mess. They're not going to stay close very long, and if we don't catch them now, they'll eventually come back with more men, more equipment, more everything. We have to move, and quickly. Go have a word with your family, I'll gather the men and have them ready to go."

Elsa let her shoulders relax and linked her hands. "Thank you, Garret." She walked past him once more—a lot less angrily this time—and stopped a few steps away. "Just a few questions."

"Of course."

"Why were you late?"

"I came across Olaf. Sent him on a little mission for me. We'll see if it pans out."

"Okay." The other one she debated whether she wanted to ask. "Did you do it? What he said?"

The answer came after a moment of silence. "I was there. But I didn't do it."

Somehow, she didn't even doubt that he would say that. She asked because her brain wouldn't stop pestering her otherwise, but her heart knew. She trusted him. And to be honest, it felt good.

Anna was waiting, her arms wide open as she hopped on her spot, her face brimming with clearly repressed tears. Elsa fell into her arms and held onto her as tightly as she could. She quickly hugged Kristoff too and the three shared a laugh. Sometimes words weren't half as necessary as a good laugh.

"Those were some theatrics," Anna said as she squared her shoulders and wiped her cheeks. "You're only half-right. Badass-Elsa is now my second favorite Elsa."

"What's the first?"

Her sister lifted a finger to her chin. "Probably Sick-Elsa. You were so cute. Or Chocolate-Elsa. The things you do with your nose when you eat that thing… Oh wait! I still have to see Properly-Drunk-Elsa."

"And you're gonna wait a while," Kristoff whispered.

"Yeah, to my great disappointment. But anyway. When are we moving?"

"Mo–Moving? You're not moving. You're staying here," Elsa said. Anna opened her mouth, her brows noticeably furrowing by the second. "You promised!" she added with finality before a single word could come out of her sister.

The young princess stopped right in her tracks. She snapped her fingers and kicked the ground. "I did. But this is not unnecessary danger!" she exclaimed as she perked up. "You'll need every hand you can get."

Elsa shook her head, but she still beamed with a proud smile. "We'll be fine. I'm taking most of the Guard and Garret. That should be enough for five or six people. And Arendelle will need you here. They'll need someone like you."

Anna was impulsive, but Elsa knew her sister was among the most intelligent people of her kingdom. She knew the importance of strong leadership, especially after such mayhem. Kristoff lifted his hand to her shoulder and gave a supportive squeeze.

"Don't do anything I would do," Anna finally said with a wink that was very obviously less overjoyed than usual. "Oh, come back here," she added almost immediately, dragging Elsa into another rib-crushing hug.

She kept her good nature as an anchor. Good. That's my little sister.

"On a related topic," Anna resumed, her voice taking a more apprehensive tone as she released her. "Is Garret okay?"

Elsa turned back to throw a glance towards the man, who was busy speaking with half-a-dozen guards. "He's…He's going to be. Hopefully."

"Well, he did certainly receive one heck of an earful."

"I know right," Kristoff mused. "I don't think I've ever seen you so angry, Elsa."

Oh. Everybody saw that.

She probably hadn't had to scold him in front of the entire kingdom just after an episode of very vivid destruction. Had she?

"But I do agree with you, though," Anna said. "He was reckless. I'm happy you could make him understand that."

Elsa caressed her own forearm in thought. "I certainly do hope he did." Anna silently scanned her, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. "What?"

"Nothing. Just remind me that we have to talk after all this."

"Talk about what?"

"Majesty?" Garret declared from behind as he got close, interrupting the sisters. "The men are equipped and ready."

It'll have to wait.

"Very well."

"Garret," Anna called. She stepped in, and the poor man braced himself for what he probably thought was another scolding. Instead, she just grinned and brought her arms around him. "Don't worry, I'm not in a pinching mood."

"That's not going away anytime soon, is it?" Elsa sighed.

"No, it's not," Anna replied as she pulled away from Garret with a wide grin. "Please come back?" she then demanded.

Garret swiftly glanced at Kristoff with whom he exchanged a quick nod before returning to her. "I'll do my best."

"And take care of her for me."

He met Elsa's eyes. "I'll be with her."

Anna waved from inside the castle, her little hand growing smaller with each step. The group exited the town's main avenue quickly and advanced into the more mountainous territory that encircled Arendelle. Elsa was surrounded by guards, Garret walking before her while trappers constituted the foremost front.

While she wasn't the biggest fan of being the most protected, Einar made it clear early on that it was either that or staying back.

"This is it," Garret said.

"It is indeed."

"Ready to get this over with?"

"As much as I can."

She wasn't anxious? She should be anxious. But she wasn't.

Garret looked at her over his shoulder, his worry plain to see. "Everything's going to be fine," he said.

Irony, you are a cruel mistress.

"I know. Actually, I'm a lot more serene about all this than I thought I'd be. I'd wager it is no small part due to our group: we have some of Arendelle's best men and a master of ice."

"That's very nice, but I wouldn't call myself a mast—"

"Also, you."

Garret chortled after a moment of silent confusion. "Bloody hell, I walked right into that one. I'm very glad to see I'm your joke recipient when in a potentially dangerous situation."

"Everybody copes in their own way. And you were late."

"When do I get to cope?"

"Nobody said you couldn't tease me."

"In front of twenty men who probably swore they'd defend your honor with their life?"

"There is a time for and a time against. Royal teachings and all that."

"That I can very clearly see, excellency." He stayed mute for a few moments while she giggled before coming up to her and speaking so low that only she could hear. "How… How did you get rid of it?"

He didn't have to specify what he was talking about.

"I didn't," she replied honestly. "I work on it every day. All I want is for you to know that it is possible."

Garret kept his eyes on her for a few more seconds, and without another word, got back to his position a couple feet away. They walked in silence, the trappers at the very front following a trail they described as esoteric at best.

"This is weird," one of them announced in whispers. "Are they supposed to be this good at wiping their footsteps?"

"I'm just happy that we have footsteps for now," Garret answered just as low. "When they're so few they're very hard to catch."

"I can see that," the trapper said. "But to be completely fair they made some mistakes here and there. Haste, surely. I think we can keep it alive for a bit."

The hills were now giving way to a thicker wood that Elsa had never traversed. The shadow of pearly leaves passed over her head as the light and hushed crunches of the troop's boots meeting the mix of grass and mud under their feet resonated louder and louder.

Are they going to hear us?

If the much more qualified people around her were doing as much noise, she guessed it would be alright.

On the other side of the forest she knew was the southern bank of the Arenfjord, from where most foreign ships came by to dock their hulls at her kingdom's port. The waters were shallow, but she was told the absence of rocailles and the warm current under the sea made it a very popular corridor.

"There's a broken branch, here," the head-trapper warned as she lifted her hand to stop the procession. "I think we're coming close."

Garret narrowed his eyes. "Already? We've only been walking for half an hour."

Elsa never liked it when Garret was surprised. For all the flustering around her and the general dorkiness she was starting to become fond of, he always seemed to know what to expect in serious matters; that made the situations where his expectations were subverted the ones that struck the most doubt into her heart.

"They also left powder traces and a cartridge a while ago."

"That is what I would call weird. They need every single ammunition they can get."

"We're gonna know real quick anyway. We're coming into a cliff right now. If the trail was good, they had no other place to go. We should get ready."

Garret nocked an arrow on his frozen bow, the guards unsheathed their swords.

Elsa gulped with difficulty. The serenity had started fading away way earlier, but the relative emotional void was quickly being replaced by stark apprehension. Her hands charged with vibrating magic, the breath of winter englobing her arms in its gentle grasp.

Here be trouble.

The cliff was indeed very close. The dense vegetation etiolated out as they advanced, leaving the view of a calm ocean to deploy under the sun.

No traces of anyone though. Or maybe there were? Elsa was far from an expert in tracking.

Garret threw worried looks all around. The guards didn't seem much more comfortable.

"They managed to get out of here," the trapper said as she examined the last traces.

"I don't think they came through here at all," Garret replied. "They sent one man to throw us off their scent. They made us believe they made mistakes to bring us here. Smart bastards."

"Then where's that single man? I'd rather see one in prison than no one at all."

Garret peeked over the edge. Elsa strode to his side and followed his gaze. There was only a thin strip of land that ran alongside the coast underneath, everything else was steady and clear water. Under any other circumstances, the sound of the seagulls and the breaking waves would have been calming. Now they only exacerbated her nervousness.

"There's nothing under there," Garret started. "We should probably head back to the kingdom and send searching parties fro—"

The end of his sentence was swallowed by the deafening crack of an explosion that made her heart jump to her throat. The dim of bursting stone banged in the open, bashing back and forth between the tall mountain peaks behind them. Garret's eyes grew larger, and he knelt down. No, he wasn't kneeling. Why was he going down?

The ground under his feet fractured and opened. The platform he had been standing on had vanished. Elsa barely had time to register the surprised gasp that she uttered herself before he had disappeared under the rocky border.

Her legs pushed her forward. Her hand flew toward him on reflex. She stayed suspended in the air before him, reaching but not quite touching. The call for her magic came right after. But nothing followed. Her eyes drifted to her forearm. She understood why.

A small dart she had already seen before was embedded in her skin, leaking a diluted green liquid.

The ocean view rotated under her. Where was up? Where was down? She couldn't settle on a direction. Garret's silhouette was now above her. Or was it below? He came closer, and closer.

She didn't even feel the wind slap her. Her consciousness slipped away before she could determine where she was going to land, but there was one statement that kept nagging at her as her vision blurred.

I'm so tired of falling.

The pointy ends of flashy green grass tickled her cheeks when she finally could open her eyes. Their extremities dangled back and forth with each of her breaths. The sweet smell was pleasant enough, a nap in the open was something she always wished she could try.

Elsa's head weighed heavily on her shoulders even though she was very obviously lying on the ground. The shady background's blurry details grew as her eye's lens adapted to the almost blinding light.

A white leathered boot appeared in her field of view. Then the ground level faded down—or did her head just lift?

Yes, that made a bit more sense. She could see the trees around her. Some grey silhouettes too. A bit of yellow that almost seemed white.

Is this my hair? I have pretty hair.

The stream of platinum was pushed away by a gloved hand that went to her chin and gently lifted it up. A square of beige surrounded by black. Also black on the right corner. What a funny sight.

"I have to admit that plan of yours was the best course of action indeed," a deep voice said a bit farther back.

"I know. You say that every time," another one, closer, answered. "And every time you say I'm crazy."

"Don't pretend like this was the original plan all along."

"Using fireworks as a signal cannot be improvised."

"You're just lucky the ship was close enough."

"Luck is a part of prowess. By the way, how's the shoulder?"

"All right. Your head is already big as it is. Let's get this done and head back. The boys are waiting."

"The boys we have left."

What was that in that voice? Sorrow?

"We could always try to break into the kingdom and get them out."

"They knew what they signed up for. I won't ask those that stayed to risk their freedom for them, especially when the mission is a success. And us two won't cut it."

"Duly noted."

Her vision cleared. The eyepatch was something she'd already seen before. The memories came back to Elsa in a nauseating rush. The castle, the forest, the cliff, the fall. They were nowhere near the ocean now. Where were they?

Where is Garret?

She tried to call his name, but a layer of cloth was tightly wrapped around her mouth. Her hands were bound behind her, but even if they weren't, she couldn't move them. Her magic was still inactive.

The reality of what had happened drained her face of all color. They had been captured. How? They had won. Why was she now pinned against a tree?

"Ah, you're coming back to your senses," Roger said with a smile. He let her head fall and stood to his full height. "I really wish we could have handled this any differently, but you forced my hand. Just had to make sure you thought you were winning. Made you less careful. You should read Sun Tzu. The bastard knew what he was talking about. I did lose men in the process, but us getting rid of your sorcery will be more than enough reward in exchange for their sacrifice."

"We should probably hurry, Roger," Jack said from behind. "The boat can't stay close very long, and we're running the risk of someone bumping into us."

"You're right. But I will start with him."

"I thought you might say that. He's over there. Just give the word."

Her head refused to obey her, but her eyes still drifted up.

Elsa followed Jack's pointed finger. Garret was on his knees, attached to a tree with his head low. He had already taken a few hits. His shirt was torn open in some places; his ice prosthesis was naked to see. He looked like he was barely breathing.

Her muffled scream had little effect. She wanted to move. She wanted to.

Who is the darned thug that thought a paralytic serum would be a good idea?!

Roger crouched in front of Garret and lifted his head much like had done to her.

"Not so twitchy now, huh, Demon?" He grabbed his hair and pulled him back, bringing himself nose to nose with him. "I will ask you one last time. Tell me you did it."

Garret's tired eyes stared blankly into his face. He did not pronounce a single word. Roger slapped him with the back of his hand.

"Tell. Me. You. Killed. Him," he hissed again, the venom in his voice as obvious as the marks on Garret's face.

The latter kept his mouth shut, his defiance visible in his gaze alone.

"You won't tell me? Then I'll tell you what he did. He entrusted this mission to me. He entrusted his mission to me. This sacred burden I share with my men. I refused to believe him, and he died because of that. He gave me a purpose. And today, part of that purpose will be fulfilled with you burning to the ground." Roger then let go of his hair, letting Garret's head fall and collide with a thud on the tree bark behind it, and turned back. "I will give you a chance to fight. Conjure your armor. You do that, and I'll do you a favor you never gave him."

Nothing.

"DO IT!"

Once again, silence was his answer.

"Not even worth the spit I lost over this," Roger concluded, his eyebrow twitching in clear disappointment and anger. "Get the stake ready."

Elsa struggled as much as she could, but her arms remained numb. She abhorred the powerlessness. She disliked it. She hated it. She wanted to move, to run, to cry. None of it was going to happen.

Interrupting her thoughts, a low growl came from the other side of the small glade, where Garret was sitting.

"What of his mistakes?" he coughed. His voice had trouble rising above a murmur.

Roger's head whirled right back. "What?"

"What of your damned brother's mistakes?"

"He never made any. And even if he did, he was the only one ready to do what was necessary. His mistakes would weigh little compared to his accomplishments."

Garret's face took an unusual expression. Elsa had never seen it like that. Even at the brink of consciousness, she could recognize it. Fury.

"Weigh little, huh…One last question. Why di—didn't you paralyze me?"

The chief hunter bore a sickening smile. "I want you to feel it. Contrary to the Snow Queen, I want you to feel your flesh burning. I will do her the mercy of purifying her without pain. You, my friend, aren't getting that privilege. Do you know what the most painful way to die is?"

Garret coughed again. His single open eye stayed glued to the white-clad hunter. The flash of blue that sparkled inside it froze Elsa—as far as freezing an immobile person could get. "Burning."

"Exactly. Most people think drowning, but truth is, there is no greater punishment than the one of fire. That is why I am not paralyzing you."

"You should have."

The moment his words left his mouth, a powerful gust of wind erupted from Garret.

The continuous blast dragged Elsa while her hair flailed angrily against her. Being stuck to a tree allowed her to mostly stay in place. Garret snapped his chains open with ease, the ice that he had evidently created around them breaking into a myriad of crystals swept away by the mighty storm that emanated from him. His hands came to the ground. He closed a knuckle and struck.

"I'm tired, Roger."

His voice was calm, poised. It sounded gentle. Roger and Jack were projected back and clang to the soil, the few men with them hiding behind the trees around for protection. Some of them tried to go for the shot but their rifles were torn away from their hands by the sheer force of the gale.

"I'm tired of hiding."

Another strike. The storm gained in intensity. The ground around Garret was covered in growing spikes of crystal-clear ice.

"I'm tired of running."

One additional strike again. Among the glimmers and flashes, Garret stood to his feet. For a moment, the tempest quieted down, the spikes resorbed, and the grass bent back to its natural position.

"And above all, I'm tired of mourning."

The break of brilliance that followed was almost too much for Elsa's eyes.

The wind around him glowed white and started flowing upwards, forming a column of light that ascended to the skies. His hair was now a clear blonde not unlike her own, waving harmoniously with each of the rising blizzard's gales. The grass solidified into quasi perfect blades of ice, the ground under them becoming as reflective as a mirror.

The eyes inside the storm burned blue.

He was doing it.

He was letting go.

Elsa's heart filled with relief at the sight. He was becoming one with them, he knew they were his as much as he was theirs. The tears came up once again, and this time she made no effort to hold them.

He's accepting them.

The column of icy wind exploded into a slew of shiny dust that stayed suspended around them. The white cloud raced away, leaving only a spectacle of immaculate snow above the trees. Roger and Jack shakily stood up. Garret held his head high, eyeing them with a focus that Elsa now recognized characterized his serious side.

"Well, that was ominous," Roger said.

"We should probably leave," Jack warned, anxiousness clear on his features.

Garret lifted one hand. The platinum of his hair and the blue of his eyes made him look completely different and almost scary. Elsa could also see that his skin had gotten even paler.

"Listen to your lieutenant, Roger," he thundered. Still calm, but with a menacing undertone.

"Wait," the hunter said.

Jack's very evident fear didn't prevent him from staying beside his chief. "This is bad, Roger. We can't fight him like that."

Roger's eyes narrowed. Elsa didn't like that look. "No, we can't. Can he, though?"

What?

He strode forward and came one foot away from Garret. "I think he would have blasted us a lot earlier if he could. Isn't that right, Demon?" The brilliant blue gaze in front of him shone with untamed wrath. "Take a step. Come on." Elsa's breath caught up in her throat, and her heart banged inside her chest with the force of a hammer. "Very well, I'll take the step." Roger walked closer yet. "Now, if I'm wrong, hit me," he continued as he tilted his head to the side, offering his cheek. "Hit me and get this over with."

He was going to hit him, Elsa was sure. Injure him. Perhaps even kill him. As much as she hated Roger, she didn't know whether she wanted to witness that. Whether she wanted Garret to live with that.

A tightened fist rose. She wanted to seal her eyes. Her paralysis forced her into watching nonetheless.

The fist descended and fractured the ice when it met the ground. Garret had fallen to his knees. The platinum blond vanished, the blue glow vaporized, and steam started hissing on his body. His mouth gaped open and the sound of ragged gasps reached Elsa.

His eyes closed. His legs trembled. His breaths quickened even more.

"That's what I thought," Roger stated, his wide grin showcasing his cocky pride. He drove his leg into Garret's gut, drawing a faint shout of hurt. His body collapsed on the still mirror-like soil.

Jack closed in as well and pummeled his lower back, a vicious hit that was punctuated by a louder and more wickedly pained howl. "You're nothing more than a monster."

Roger quickly ruffled his own raven hair back behind his head. "Fine, I'm getting this over with."

Hopkin's Blessed came around and planted a log of dry wood into the ground. Half of them then hoisted Garret's unmoving body up and bound him to the stake, while the others fussed around the base and crated a plinth of messy firewood, leaves and branches.

Something sank inside Elsa. Cold shivering that didn't come from the ice around her.

It had proven too much for him. And he was going to die because of that. Because she couldn't help him.

Every fiber of her body fought the paralysis. Her throat burned with silent screams, her eyes with unshed tears, her heart with forlorn anguish. Her fingers started answering, but she needed much more than just her fingers.

Garret stared down, the messy fringes of red hair hiding his face from Elsa's eyes.

She wanted to throw her ice at him, cover him in a protective cocoon of hard crystal. She wanted to run to his side and pry him away from their grasp with her bare hands. She wanted to find a way to somehow ease the pain that was going to tear through his body, just as she had hoped to quell the one that raged in his mind. At the very least, she wanted to call his name, to tell him she would remember him.

She could do none of that. He was going to die in front of her.

Roger lit a makeover torch he had sprung out of a satchel with two rocks and approached with dignified steps, savoring the moment. He lifted his hand high.

"Honorable members of the Blessed, I want you to know that this wouldn't have been possible without your hard work. I want you to take pride in your aid to this world and go back to your families as the heroes you are. Live your lives knowing that you cleansed your brethren of a greater evil, and stand ready, for the next call will come for us always."

He released the fire. The streak of golden and red fell and danced on its way. Sparkling and crackling, the blaze illuminated his face and the glowing seal on his coat.

She had been hopeless before. She saw that dying ember that was bringing the winds to a cold howl. Despair was now a dense fog that filled her veins. Heavy. Frigid.

Implacable.

"Auspicium Melioris Aevi."

The sound of the breeze ran past her ear. Not a breeze. A whistle.

The torch disappeared. The flame was gone. Where was it?

The light now came from a tree, far behind the stake. A crossbow bolt had pinned the torch there. Garret lifted his head, a small smile on his lips. Elsa followed his gaze.

Behind her was an armored silhouette. The plates glowed in a way she had already seen. Brilliant and blue, the helmet bore a striking resemblance to a hawk.

An armor of ice.

Then, right next to it, another one. Taller, bigger. She saw a third, a bit behind. Then to the left, another two. Soon enough, she couldn't follow the count as they appeared one after the other.

One of them, the smaller one, came to Elsa and crouched beside her with a crackle of ice. She ignored her reflection on the visor and tried to discern a face inside.

"It's us."

She knew that voice.

"I promised and all that, but when I saw the ground freeze and those weird skates under my feet, I knew you were in trouble."

Despite the ethereal reverberation induced by the helmet, Elsa knew that voice.

"Good thing you sent that ice in the air or we would have had a lot more trouble finding you."

Anna?

AN: Hope you enjoyed this one!

I am so very late and I apologize. Had a whole lot of work dumped on me these last few weeks, and I couldn't just ignore it.

At least now I have more time to write.

Next chapter's theme is a specific cover of Vuelie. The one by Froststudio Chambersonic titled exactly Frozen 2 -Vuelie(Into the Unknown/The Next Right Thing), on YouTube too.

See you next time,

Peace,

CalAm.