The King of Arendelle

Englens Omfavnelse

Another feral shriek made all of the fighting nearly come to a halt. There was another explosion of light as the Angel tried to shoo away her attackers, unseen by human eyes. There was snow and ice in the air both from Elsa's power and the sky itself.

Thanks to the effort of Valka, Hiccup, and their crew, the Danish soldiers were reduced to a mess of snow-soaked trash. At least for the time being. They'd ordered their warriors to attack the Danes' position from all sides.

The Angel misfired and made a powerful explosion into the cobblestone, knocking some nearly ten feet away from where they stood.

"Don't let her hit the village!" North shouted. Should she become violent, the buildings would be the only cover the humans had.

Tooth knew her babies were doing their best. "They're not meaning for her to! Can they even touch her?"

Sandman would be the one to find that out. When he flew towards the Angel and tried to whip her, his own weapon bounced off the invisible energy shield around her. Whatever chance the guardians thought they had of taking her down was gone.

"We've just got to keep her busy, lead her away, something!" Tooth surmised.

As she spoke, North saw Elsa had finally broken through the front doors of the castle. She froze all of the guards against the walls, her anger knowing no limit.

"Then you and Sandman get to it! I'm going to look for Jack!" He ran after Elsa to the castle.

Tooth couldn't sit by idly anymore. She summoned her dual swords—she hadn't needed them in a long time. Right as Bunnymund appeared behind her for an update, he noticed them.

"...And how long have you had those?"

Tooth didn't answer. Right now, she and Sandy were the only ones who could feasibly get close to the thing. Why did its wings have to be so blinding? Why was it so much more massive up close? Tooth wouldn't let fear cripple her. She zoomed forth slashing. Even if she didn't make a dent, at least she had its focus.

The crowd below began to lose interest in fighting each other and were instead taken aback by what the Hell was happening in the skies. What looked to be blasts of golden sand were striking the creature, making absolutely no sound. The beast was roaring, making the ground shake.

The Danes all asked themselves the same question: how on Earth did Hans believe he could control such a monster?

...

I shouldn't have done that. I should not have done that.

Jack was curled up on the floor, his wounds causing him such pain that he felt paralyzed. He could sense that Hans was getting closer.

For Hans, the hunt didn't taste as good as it usually did. He had allowed himself to be fooled by his own sister. No revenge would erase that shame. But at least he could make sure no one would live to tell the story.

Before he could get too close, Jack inhaled deeply as he grabbed Hans' ankle and yanked him forward so he toppled backward, his head bouncing off the floor. Whether he'd hit it hard enough to crack it open, Jack didn't care. He made a small knife from ice, crawled over Hans' body, and pressed the cold blade to his throat.

Staring into Hans' empty eyes, Jack was just a heartbeat away from cutting him open. For the first time in his life, truly, Jack felt hatred. It was a burning, twisted feeling in his stomach that made him impatient to see the suffering of his foe before him. He had done nothing deserving of mercy and he would know the consequences of harming his children.