A/N: First up, a quick apology. This update took way longer than it should, and I am endlessly thankful to each of you for sticking by me. I believe in quality writing, and giving the best experience you deserve from a Frozen fanfiction. Hence, I went through multiple rewrites before arriving at what you see here.

Some of you messaged me, and I said that this was gonna be the second last chapter. Well, it ended up being 6,500 words – far longer than any of my previous chapters. After some serious deliberation, I've decided to split it into two chapters instead, for easier reading's sake.

Chapter 36 is nearly done, so I promise I'll release as soon as proofreading is done(for real this time!). I hope you will enjoy the final few chapters of this long, long fic as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 35

~ Frozen Crusade ~

All was still. Asleep, Weselton was a peaceful kingdom.

Elsa smiled.

She felt as if she stood upon a newborn world sculpted by snow. Everywhere as far as the eye could see was white, unmarred by footprints, or the rocky ground she remembered of this countryside. Snowdrifts concealed every bush, crop, and boulder.

She had never seen anything so beautiful.

Trees and buildings were all that stood out, but they too were remade. On one tree, droplets hung off leaves like crystalline berries. On another, wind and gravity had shaped branches into icy claws. A collapsed structure beside them was half-buried in snow, the exposed parts caked with frost, leaving no clue to what purpose it once served. Not that Elsa cared particularly.

As long as Weselton existed, her blizzard would rage. Let the purity of ice cover the rot here. Let her winter remake this pathetic land, so that none would ever again have to look upon its like.

Faint light peeked through the clouds overhead, releasing a flash of diamonds across the landscape. Elsa smiled wider. Her ice formed faster than the even the sun could melt; perhaps the gods themselves feared her.

The snow queen dropped to a knee and grasped a handful of snow, working it in her palm before releasing it from gaps in her fingers. She sucked in deeply, relishing the cool air in her lungs.

To think I once feared this magic. How hopelessly, hopelessly naïve I was!

Elsa giggled. She had never felt so alive, not since the coronation. Not even the morning when she woke to the sight of Anna beside her compared. Since young, she had always known she was powerful. How many times had she ripped her magic back into herself before she froze her door off? How many times had she stared into the flames, and so nearly plunged her hand in just to protect her family?

Now, they were gone; there was nothing to hold her back anymore. And this power was beyond anything she could've imagined. She reached out, peering at the sun between two fingers. Even the heavens would be nothing next to the kingdom she'd soon build. But first, she'd have to weed out the filth.

Snow crunched as someone approached. Vigard. He planted himself beside her, bearing the frown she'd long since gotten used to. Tailing him were her freshly promoted escorts, Roy and Jakob, the two who'd saved her from Lars.

"Report," she said.

"Weselton forces are in full retreat. The blockade at sea holds steady. Twice, Weselton privateers pushed near, but Commodore Keel drove them back with cannons. Ships from other kingdoms have left for safer waters. What few left are reluctant to challenge us. Meanwhile, Commander Oddmund has secured Harbourtown, and awaits further orders."

"Will they not fight back?" she said.

"They are regrouping. Our scouts report an immediate threat to our position here, here, and here." Vigard held a map, jabbing at the nearby towns of Kroden, Falix, and Hepsa. "A thousand men at least. We believe it to be the Iron Brotherhood."

Elsa chuckled. "They think to encircle us. It's just an intimidation tactic, favoured by mercenary armies."

"You do not look concerned."

"Should I be? Vigard, do you know the problem when you entrust your kingdom's defence to hired swords? It's what we are seeing now. An army that looks fearsome waving swords from far. But they fear to face us in a true fight. Their loyalty is only to coin."

"All due respect, Your Majesty, but this one disagrees. For two centuries without fail, the Iron Brotherhood has guarded Weselton interests. They have never broken a contract. Never fled from battle. Such are hardened warriors from Yindu. If ordered to, they would throw themselves at us down to the last man. And they are not the only mercenary army in Weselton's employ."

"I see." In this matter Elsa deferred to the admiral's judgement. After all, he'd been fighting wars for more years than she had lived. No point arguing with an old man so stubborn. "Still, we have made good ground. Your men have proven themselves in valour. No doubt Weselton will think twice before engaging us again."

It's really me they fear, but I will give you this one, Vigard.

The admiral folded his arms. "Let us not mince words here, Your Majesty. We are but glorified bodyguards to you."

"Why do you demean yourself so?"

"Our victories today were not earned through strength of combat, but your magic."

"Are you saying you wish for your marines to fight?" Elsa retracted her smile. Throughout the journey here, Vigard had made no illusion of his disapproval for her. His challenges were as vexing as they were confusing. She opted for another approach. "What's the casualty on our side?"

"Two frigates damaged by enemy fire. Thirty-five marines hurt by shrapnel. Oddmund stopped an uprising at the town, but eight of his men were injured. If this carries on–"

"Zero dead." She took a step closer, letting Vigard Ingegerd tower over her. "Zero dead. See? You had nothing to worry about. You are not bodyguards but my loyal subjects. I assure you, those who have shed blood today shall be rewarded. And you have more than earned your station as admiral of the Arendelle fleet. I was right about you." She waited for a sign of his deference. Instead his lips pressed tight, much to Elsa's surprise. "Was this not the point? I kept your men safe as I promised. Are you so eager to enter the gates of Valhalla?"

"This war need not be waged, Your Majesty. You have dismantled all of Weselton's defences. You have laid waste to an entire harbour, and the world has seen your might. How many more countries must we make our enemy?"

"I have a few in mind."

"This is not a game!"

"I never thought it was. Just ask those mercs at the harbour."

The disdain was thick on the old man's face, and he glared away. Elsa wondered if he was about to lash out.

"You surprise me. Here I thought you hated mercenaries," she said.

"I do, but I respect them as well. They fought with honour and courage today."

"Courage? They fled like rats, and they were smart to do so. They know their ship has sunk. To stand against Arendelle is to die."

Vigard rubbed the frost from his cheek scar as his mouth opened and closed several times. "…this is no proper war. This is slaughter."

Slaughter was no less than Weselton deserved. The fool spoke as though she was merciless, but she had used a mere fraction of her true power.

The snow queen whirled around. Trailing them were some thirty-or-so marines – far lesser than Vigard preferred – and far more than this conquest needed. The main body of the navy and guards she left to defend their ships and hold the town.

At least that was the story she gave. In truth, Elsa feared they'd be caught in the crossfire of her blizzard. Even controlling her magic not to lash out at the few men beside her was... taxing.

But none could know that. If even Anna and Kristoff could betray her, what's to say her marines weren't plotting something as well? Elsa had little doubt that her sister's poison must've reached more ears. She couldn't risk anyone exploiting her weakness.

She scanned their faces, searching for the treachery in each man's eyes. They were Vigard's chosen – veterans of naval warfare and skirmishes against pirates, marines who had stared death in the face and returned it many times over. But they were beyond their element here. Some gazed around in mix of fear and wonder, others shivered as if their clothes and furs were silk.

A swell of pity rose within Elsa; they'd never experience the winter as she would – to be one with every flake of snow and ice, to command the wind as if it were their limbs.

She turned to the front again, and a scowl twisted her lips. No, perhaps they were the lucky ones, for they need never witness the cruelty of this kingdom. Before them loomed that mountain. The last time she'd been too busy running for dear life to take a proper look, and now that she did… what a terrible, terrible thing it was, the way it jutted out of the white landscape like a scab, darker and uglier than every mountain around. Even her snow could not mask the dagger-like peaks.

"Tell me, Vigard. You have travelled far and wide. Have you ever heard the tale of Weselton's demon?" When the admiral shook his head, she pointed. "This is her home. The darkest secret in all of Weselton – the Belly of the Beast."

He narrowed his eyes. "This one has heard rumours of that great prison, where scums and political prisoners are entombed. How do you know this is it?"

"They didn't bury their secret deep enough."

Elsa shuddered just thinking about it. The Belly of the Beast was a most fitting womb for Freya Solberg. Fifteen years she rotted in the darkness alone; as the world moved on without her; as her mother died thinking her daughters dead; as her village slept and laughed thinking her broken.

They were nearly right. Were it not for Anna, the wretched sister-murderer would still be grovelling within.

How the sentries had gaped when Freya tore out of her jail. They hadn't even the chance to scream before she ripped their souls out, letting their bodies join the bones that littered the endless caverns. The other prisoners too, damned to languish slow deaths in the dark cells had spread their arms out, pleading for mercy. For release.

Freya rewarded them with the mercy of a quick death. Belking bestowed the title of demon upon her, and that day she proved her worth.

"Your Majesty," Vigard said, snapping her from her reverie. "This one presumes we are headed towards the mountain. To find this demon."

Elsa clenched her fist. "No, it's too late. It was always too late for her. She died long ago. But we are going there nonetheless."

"Why?" He examined the map, as though searching for some strategic advantage from it.

Why indeed? Never in a thousand years would Elsa dream to be back here again. She searched the length of the mountain as if her answer could be found on one of the many crags.

"Should we not take the capital city instead? A swift victory will minimize casualties. If we move now–"

She glared at him, killing his words. "Fear is the only language they speak, and that mountain is the epitome of their fear. What better place to stage my invasion from?"

"If we go straight, we come between Kroden and Hepsa. We are walking into an ambush."

"So they think to stand between me and the Belly of the Beast." Elsa titled her head up, drinking in the wicked spikes of the mountain. "I cannot think of a last stand more fitting."

Vigard clapped the map close. "You ask my council. Yet you do not heed it. I cannot condone this course, Your Majesty."

"You forget your place, admiral. I do not need your approval, only your loyalty."

"I am not surprised. Even Her Highness could not move you."

Snowflakes froze still in mid-fall. The air itself thinned as a gale erupted from Elsa, howling the promise of death. Horses bayed in terror. Roy grabbed at his sword but Jakob stopped him with a hand.

"You would be wise to change your topic, Vigard."

To his credit, he did not flinch. "Others may stand by, and indulge you in this foolishness. But this one will not."

"Pardon me, Queen Elsa." Jakob bowed. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you let us search for Princess Anna after she fell?"

"My sister made her choice. She made herself my enemy, when she could have just accepted me. She…" A rush of tears blurred her vision, and she swiped her face before they could see it. Even now, she remembered the desperation in Anna's eyes as she weaved her mad tale to convince herself that the snow queen wasn't her sister. Kristoff – the one man Elsa placed her faith in – had swallowed all her lies as well.

How could they! How could Anna doubt her to be anything but Elsa!

It was true, wasn't it? She wasn't merely wearing this body. She had all of Elsa's powers and memories. She even shared her feelings for Anna. So what if Freya Solberg's memories existed within her as well? Who's to say it wasn't the demon who perished and Elsa who stole her last thoughts?

Even now, Freya's past torments me. The bitch destroyed her sister, and now she's doing the same to my future.

She swallowed deeply, forcing herself to calm. She tasted it crawling back up – All of Elsa's doubts and all of Freya's hatred. She clutched herself, suddenly afraid this body would slip away the way Christina and Anna had. A mirror… she needed a mirror… needed to see the face in it…

Conceal. Conceal, don't feel.

"Who am I, Vigard?"

His eyebrows rose. "I do not understand what you are asking."

"Just answer me, please. Who do you see standing before you?"

"You… are Queen Elsa, are you not?" he said.

She directed a look at her escorts. The two exchanged uneasy glances before Jakob said, "Your Majesty, you are our ruler."

Clarity. This was who she was. Yes, she could have no doubts anymore, not if she was to be greater than either woman of her past could ever hope to be, not if she was to be the queen Arendelle deserved. It was Elsa's destiny to liberate this world, to make it safe for everyone who possessed magic.

And rule it. It was only her just duty. Arendelle would be a kingdom with no equal – If Papa was still alive he'd be proud of her, she knew. They would all be proud… Kristoff, Gerda, Kai, Olaf, everyone she ever knew would embrace her.

Most of all, Anna.

"My sister's safe with the trolls. And I will speak no more of her." Only a fool would challenge her now, and Vigard wisely kept mum. "You said Weselton's mercenary army is brave?" Elsa cracked her fingers, and the snowstorm resumed. "Then it would be a disservice not to meet them in battle."

"And what then?" he breathed. "Weselton's forces will fall before your magic. You will be unopposed. What then? Will you stop this winter?"

Elsa laughed. "No, it has only just begun."