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Elsa Queen of Arendelle

0 · 511 views · located in The Ruins

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Princess Awinita

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So begins...

Elsa Queen of Arendelle's Story

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Within a building, a large office building, long and low, filled with empty offices shut down for the day. Deep within the lower levels under the street where most unlikely visitors were to gather at nights when the moon was out and money was changing hands. Ice began to form. The homeless that were in the area found it strangely chilled within the vast cavernous halls. What was making it so cold ?

Ice crystals grew on the floor and walls. Stretching outwards as they thickened. More of the ice appeared on the walls and floor, creating a tunnel of ice of sorts. Soon the ceiling of the cavernous room was also covered in the fast growing ice shards. The cold increased in chill. The ambient temperture in the cavernous room was normally low sevenites, but now it felt like it was in the minus double digits and steadly dropping.

Where was the cold coming from ?

Elswhere....

A single woman in ice blue armor, parried strikes and struck back at two large men who had cornered her with a sword made of ice. The ice armor the woman wore was breaking with each hit taken from the two men. Ice crystals exploded off her armor and disappeared as the cold wind grew around the three fighters as their dance intensitifed. Finally it was over. Both men lay dead, their blood freezing on the snow at her feet as their bodies were soon buried in the steady snowfall.

All was quiet.

At least, for the moment.

Without warning a third man, larger than any man she had ever met or fought came running at her. She brought up her sword to defend the strike that was coming, but never got a chance to defend herself when the man lifted off his feet and slammed headlong into her. her sword went flying from her grip as the man held onto her. Aiming to crush her under his weight against the ice wall to her back. She closed her eyes and awaited death as the ice she could feel, coming closer to herself before she hit it....

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Nothing could be heard as the hooded man walked through the halls of the building, not his boots hitting the floor, nor the metal of his armor, nor the fabric of his cloak fluttering in the breeze that wafted down the halls from the sudden drafts that were occurring. 'Let's see....target is supposed to be in this building tomorrow....All I have to do is wait.' the man thought to himself, ignoring the sudden cold of the room he stood in presently.

Though once ice started to form he turned his head, all but his lips and chin hidden in the shadow of his hood. A single scar could be seen across his chin, though it was rather recent, a few weeks at least. As he continued to watch the ice grow, he merely stood there, watching it. He knew this power from somewhere in his past...but he couldn't put his finger on it...

...Yet.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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What began as slow growing crystals of ice soon sped up as whatever was making them was soon to arrive. The walls of ice thickened to nearly a foot before the wall to the unknown manes left was shattered from behind. The ice exploded outwards into the hall as two people came through. A man and a woman. A sword slammed into the wall not two feet in front of the unknown hooded man, Wedged into the wall up to its twin spikes. The sword of ice hung there, as if it had been thrown rather violently.

Both the man and woman were clad in armor, Unlike any ever seen before. The man had a cross on his armor on his back. In blood red. The Templar cross. The woman, who was bodyslammed into the oppisite wall from whence she had come. Was armored in shades of pale to dark blue crystal like armor. Shaking her head to rid of the dizziness, the woman grabbed upwards as the massive man made to step on her, only to have his foot grabbed and he was roughly flung aside.

Scrambling to her feet the woman held out a hand and the sword stuck in the wall sprang from the wall to her hand. She struck quickly as the man made ot tackle her again, stabbing at his face and arms as he dove at her a second time. At the last second the woman twirled on her feet and stabbed downwards. Ensaring the man at the neck with the spikes of her sword. The man sank to the ground in a heap.

With a sickening squlching sound, the woman tore the sword from the dead body. With a flick of her wrist, the blood flung off the sword as ice shone brilliantly on the blade. A shout went up from the hole in the ice wall. Blackness beyond it. The woman raised a hand towards the ice wall to close it. Only to get hit with two thick black metal flighted arrows, first in her raised hand, then her side. The armor shattered as the arrows made contact, digging deep into her skin. She sank with a pained cry to the ground. Scrambling backwards on the ice as more arrows lodged around her.

A shout went up again, this time of victory as six men came from the blackness, black bows drawn and aimed towards the woman on the ground. At the moment, their attention was on their target. Now wounded. They pressed closer.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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The hooded man blinked as he saw the Templar Cross, and an old hatred curdled his blood immediately. His right arm rose up slowly, narrowly. He paid no heed to the woman in armor until the larger man was dead, but by then, the strange katana-like sword had been drawn from the sheath on the hooded man's back. Three arrows actually pierced through the wall, he grabbed one, but missed the other two. He watched as they sank into the woman, and he gritted his teeth.

By the time the other men entered, the hooded man was but feet away from the wounded woman. He turned and stepped in front of her, the grip on his own sword tight as he crouched low into a battle stance with a long, drawn out breath that sounded like a sort of hiss. His right arm, which held the sword, curled up and held the sword over his head, and his left, covered by a beautiful gauntlet of unknown metal, was outstretched, the hand slightly curled and relaxed.

This stance would be familiar to the wounded woman, but she wouldn't get a good look at it before the man bolted towards the arrow-wielding Templars, his boots thumping on the ground as he tossed a flash-bang grenade at their feet, blinding them as it went off. He entered the group and all that was heard was the shuffling of feet, clashing of blades, and screams of the Templars, however because the armored woman was behind the hooded man when the grenade went off, she could see his manner of combat; swiftly moving between his foes and striking vital points with his sword, hidden blade, or gauntlet's claws.

When the battle ceased, The hooded man held one Templar by the neck, the clawed fingers of the gauntlet digging into the neck, while a small blade also had emerged from the gauntlet into the Templar's neck. The sword was impaled through the chest of the man as well.

"Rest in peace, you freedom-hating fools." The hooded man spoke before returning his blades and arm to his body and sheath after wiping or flicking off the blood.

He then turned to the woman in armor and stared at her, still unsure of her identity or why he felt compelled to protect her.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Her uninjured hand went to the arrow poking through her left hand. Gritting her teeth she pushed the arrow the rest of the way through before breaking the end of it off and pulling the thing out. She watched then as ice reformed around the wound, soon she knew, smooth unhurt skin was to be there. But until then, the ice covered the wound perfectly and acted like a bandage.

She heard the hiss of breath; her crystal sapphire eyes snapped up at the sound as she saw the man between her and those she had fought. She recognised the stance. Impossible. Blackmane said he was dead! The woman thought. She watched as the man moved forwards. Dropping something that exploded with a sharp light and loud explosion. Covering her eyes briefly she watched then as the smoke started to clear as the men that came after her, the entire squad, was dropped right before her eyes.

While the hooded man was fighting. The woman reached to her side where the arrow stuck out. She needed something she could bite. Fishing out a cloth she found a piece of metal. Biting down hard she reached to the arrow and yanked it out. Blood poured from the wound as she covered it with her uninjured hand. She focused inward, ice formed, thinly at first, the onset of pain washed over her however as the ice formed over the wound, slowly choking off the lifeblood that seeped out of it.

She then stood on shaky legs. Watching the battle unfold. She waited until it was done. It was impossible. She kept telling herself. Blackmane sent him on a mission, on a contract, the contrat she said was a failure! But no. She was looking at a man she had not seen in nearly a year.

Her legs could not support her anymore, weary from battle and wounds, the womans eyes rolled into her head and she faited dead away. But instead of hitting hard packed ice, she landed on a pile of thick soft snow. The armor slowly reformed over her body where it had broken off during the battle. Blood that fell from dozens of wounds was soon stopped as the ice froze it.

There was no mistaking that blond hair, Or those eyes. But there was something different about those eyes. They had a odd twinkle to them. As if they were snowflakes within her eyes.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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The man stared at the woman, even after she passed out; the blonde hair....the eyes.....it was her. His heart sank. Elsa....his first love.... he'd just saved her. His mouth hung open as he walked towards her, and knelt by her body, putting his fingers to her neck to check her pulse.

Aside from the side effects of battle, her pulse was fine. He placed a gentle hand on her chest to check her breathing, and then finally, he gently opened her eyes. However instead of checking for the pupil dilation, he was mesmerized by the new-found beauty of her eyes. So much so that he let her eye close again to break away from the spell.

"No use building a fire...Templars would spot it, or she'd freeze it before he got it started.... He sat against the wall and watched over her carefully like he had done many a moon ago.....man how he missed those days sometimes.....now it seemed they were coming back.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Hours passed, or maybe it was minutes ? But finally, after a weird dream where she thought she saw an old friend back from the dead. Elsa's right eye snapped open; she laid on freshly fallen snow. Like a soft bed it was. Her head was pounding, her side hurt, with each heartbeat her side flared in agony. Her left hand was sore from where the arrow had struck, but that would fade soon enough. She'd gotten cut there before. Even had her hand split right down the middle finger to her wrist when she took down Hans at Stockholm.

With a soft moan she mentally shed her armor, the ice flickered into snowflakes and fell off her slim form as she slowly got to her knees and looked around. She had seen him, in her dreams. Her own battleweary dreams. Fighting for her, defending her. Was it really a dream ? She looked around as she called her sword to her once again from where it laid in the snow. Using it somewhat as a siupport she pulled herself to her feet. Where was she ?

As she looked around her gaze fell on several dead bodies, untouched by the snowfall or the ice. Long dead men, seven of them. Without thinking it she went over to the largest one, the man she had spiked with her sword she remembered. And checked the man over. Her sword had cut cleanly int othe mans neck, severing several major arteries and nearly taking the mans head clean off.

She checked the pockets of the slain man, nope, no note. Matthew had shown her a note that some of the Templars had on them, two of which tried to take her down outside her room almost twelve years before, but thankfully her snowflake lock did its job and Matthew found the note on the two men. There was no note on any of the seven men. At least, none that she could find.

Now to find where she was. She stood up then and took one step to find outside, and find where she was, when her gaze fell on one man, the only man still breathing. Her heart hammered in her throat as she recognised the posture of the man. Impossible, her mind kept screaming at her. But no, Mark was right before her. She stood, struck dumb with confusion.

How was he still alive ?

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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The hooded man....Mark....had dozed off a little, but when he heard Elsa begin to shuffle around, he woke and watched her examine each of the bodies, looking for something. He then smiled, only his lips visible from under his hood as he lightly pushed off the wall he leaned against and took a few steps towards her, his head bowed low and his arms out.

"Hail, Elsa; Queen of Arendelle!" He cried out softly. That voice...it was definitely Mark. That or someone very good at impersonating him. He stopped within arms reach of the Queen, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His cloak was even the same color: Dark Green. From under the hood, his lips were still the only things visible, an extremely old scar ran across them in a diagonal path, seemingly coming from his right cheek.

He made no move to remove his own hood; he would allow the Queen to do that herself, that way that if it was him, she could deal the appropriate punishment for leaving her and the kingdom.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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The sword came up, it had the appearance as if it had fallen off a snowflake. Which it partly had, Elsa had crafted it one day after a Templar tried to kill Kristoff at her home. Though at the time she used a spike of her own icey powers. The tip of the blade, in fact all three tips of the blade were prestine and clean, glittering brilliantly in the ceiling lights. The tip moved to the hood. And gently lifted it off Marks head as she heard his voice.

The first thing she recognised was the scar. There was no mistaking it. One of Illitains higher ranking men had dealt it with her own sword from the Arendelle Armory. Had it been her ice blade, he'd have lost his head. But no it was Mark. The sword tip fell aside and away from Mark as Elsa jerked back a step out of fear and shock. It was impossible!

"No! No its impossible!" She cried out. She pointed at him, a tear in her eye as she spoke. "You're dead, Blackmane told me herself! Even showed me the contract! It was written that you were trampled in a stampede in Boston!" She refused to believe he was alive at that moment, Mostly becase the rational part of her mind kept screaming it was impossible for Mark to be alive.

But in her heart she knew, she knew this was Mark. There was no mistaking the voice, or the scar. Or his colors. However she focused on the truth, Matthew had confirmed it, to her Mark had died. But how was he standing within her reach right then ? Her side throbbed where the arrow had landed, Even without the armor there was a slight refelction of ice over the wound at her left hip.

Finally after a careful moment of thought she said. "If you really are Mark. What was I not wearing when we first met ?" In this case it was hard to really remember that, as she rarely wore shoes as of late. Unless they were her crystal green and sapphire shoes for important events. Most of the time she was barefoot since going under Matthews wing again. Mostly because it felt right. It was in fact a good test. She did not recall Mark ever seeing her feet, after all he mostly had his gaze fixed on her face.... mostly...

And so to make sure it was mark she had asked him that question. She hoped he knew the answer. And if he did, he was Mark, and Blackmane had lied to her. But why ?

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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He merely stayed quiet as she tried to rationalize it all as the thoughts raced through her mind. Her question however, made his small smile vanish from his face, turning into a frown. For an agonizingly long moment, he was silent, staring at the Queen from the shadows of his hood.

"My Queen.....I'm afraid that your fair face caught my attention, and nothing else when we met." he says calmly; were he younger, he would blush, but he had matured well and quickly over the time that they had been apart.

"As for proving my identity....please remove my hood to see the face which brought you so much joy in the darker times of Arendelle." He said. He then bit his bottom lip and sighed again. He reached into his pocket, and removed a small necklace with a very peculiar pendant on it.

"Or perhaps you remember the necklaces I made for us?" he asks, handing the necklace out to her. The Pendant was an intricately carved scorpion sitting on top of a snow-flake, all in front of the Arendelle Assassin's flag. The colors were still there, as brilliant as ever, but half of the necklace seemed to be missing....perhaps Elsa still held her half of it?

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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'My Queen'.... Her eyes went wide, he'd always called her that in public and when speaking his mind. Always, but when they were alone, and just the two of them at any moment, it was much more initmate. Much more. Tenetively Elsa reached her hands forwards and lifted the hood from Marks head. As it dropped away she once again stepped back out of shock. And confusion. A hand went to her face, a tear streaked from her eye before fading away.

He'd answered her question truthfully. He was indeed focused on her face and could not take his eyes off her face for all she knew. He just focused on her. Whicch spelled slight trouble. And yet. Confusion reigned thickly for her right then. First she finds herself in a weird area, surrounded by Templars with the cross and markings of Stockholm, Prince Hans men no doubt. Then she finds herself here. Where was here. And here was Mark, it was him, she knew for sure it was him.

Her heart hammered as he withdrew something from a pocket. She reocgnised it instantly as he held out the necklace. He'd made two of them she remembered. Two of them and they interlocked with each other. With out a word she removed from her neck her own necklace. Laced over in permafrost due to mastering her powers. her necklace locked with his. Her heart hammered in her throat as she heard the telltale click of the necklaces locking together.

At the click, that telltale click she had always heard when they were together, they'd always locked their neckalces together when they were together, be it when she was training under Matthew, or sparring with Mark. They'd always had locked their necklaces together. Her heart shattered at that click. All sorts of memories long locked away came flooding back, thawing out, flooding her mind. But all she could think about was that the truth was Mark was alive.

She felt numb. Her heart hammered. And rather than speak, she dropped to her knees and sobbed. Mark was alive, the necklaces locked. She was decieved by Blackmane, and Matthew. But why ? What happened that she had to be lied to about what had happened to her friend, and her first love ? This was just too much for her to take. She wondered, briefly, how he was feeling. Why he left. Was it his own choice to leave ?

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Mark swallowed hard as he heard the click of the necklaces together. As she dropped to the floor on her knees and sobbed, he stood over her, taking a very slow, shaky breath, fighting back his own tears. The memories came back, all of them. The laughs they shared, the sparring matches, the hugs, the days where they snuggled by the fire, the days where they went out shopping in the market and tried to keep their affection for each other on hold.....

A single tear fell down Mark's cheek and he sighed, looking down, ashamed of himself. "Elsa...." he choked out his next words, great shame and pain weighing them down, "My love....I...I faked my own death." he says, his breath shaky as he gripped his fist tight, the armor of his gauntlet shaking with his self-hate.

"The...The Den Defense at the Arko District.....it had to have been my fault it went bad...." he started. "I didn't want to cause you any more pain by failing to protect your people....So...Blackmane and I...." he choked again, and another tear fell from his cheek. "We plotted it all, to protect you from further pain...." he fell to his own knees before her, his head bowed as another tear fell from his cheek.

"I'm sorry..." was all he could say. He only hoped she would accept that apology.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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She remembered it all, their first sparring session when they were both nervous as all heck. All the way to their last dinner together before that.... the Arko District.... Since it had been mostly ruined, it was cleaned up and turned into a memorial hall with dozens of countless crosses where innocents had been slain. A massive memorial garden had been created when the ruins of the main part of the Arko District was cleared away.

She listened to his words. Blackmane and he had plotted it all. He did not want to cause her any more pain. He left because of that event ? The event that caused her to regain her focus ? Only to leave and never come home ? Her side throbbed. The cloth of her dress had reformed over the wound, but it shone red as the wound continued to heal. Too much pain, mental, physical All of it.

She slowly drew a breath, letting it out, she said softly, "Oh Matthew, my Teacher, why did you lie to me ?" She wiped away her tears and tried to focus. Mark had also dropped to his knees as he spoke, telling her the truth. Why he chose to leave. He took the blame for the many slain innocents in the Arko District. The Templars had started the fire she knew, but something else had to have occured at that same time for Mark to take the blame.

'I'm sorry....' Rang in her ears. Was he truly sorry for leaving her, for a year she had thought him dead. And today, waking up she realised the truth, he was alive. But there were many questions. Why for one, was she lied to, why had Matthew lied to her ? She was his student, and nothing could be kept from her, hell not even Anna could keep secrets from Elsa. Mostly because of Olaf.

She looked up at him. Their neckleaces between them, locked together on the ice where it was dropped. She picked it up. She remembered the day he'd presented her with the necklace. 'I carved it myself, I made two, one for us both.' He had said to her as he handed her the beautifully crafted neclace. A scorpoin, standing upon a snowflake, her snowflake, with the Arendelle flag behind it. Of course when she touched hers, a thin layer of permafrost coated the pendant. It was never to thaw. And yet, it merely amplified the clicking the necklaces made when they locked together.

Without a word then she leaned up and pulled Mark into a hug. Once again asobbing, this time onto his shoulder. Speaking softly she said. "Don't ever do that to me again." it was unclear if she had accepted his apology or not. BUt as far as she cared, She was with Mark again. And for the moment, that was all that mattered to her.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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For a long time the two of them sat there in silence, and when Elsa hugged him, he let out something Elsa had never heard from him when receiving affection from her: A startled breath. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her slim frame against his own, and letting her cry into his shoulder.

As she gave him the first "order" per-say, he nodded and tilted her chin up slightly in his hand, placing a gentle kiss upon her lips before connecting his forehead with hers softly. "As you wish, My Queen." He said, a hint of his old playfulness in his voice again as he continued to hold her close, feeling that she needed to be held, and that he needed someone to hold. A win-win situation...just not under the happiest of circumstances.

He didn't ask whether or not she forgave him; he didn't need to. In his mind, if they still truly loved on another as they used to, there was no need for forgiveness, it would be second nature. All throughout his body, his hardened, warrior like nerves of steel turned to mush, and he hugged Elsa tighter, kissing her again; happy to be reunited with his love.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle Character Portrait: Lamina
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Were this a public event, on the street of Sol Avenue, a young teen girl would approach on her walk. She wore a black, sleeveless, knee-length dress of a thick fabric and thick black boots guarded on the exterior by metallic plating on the toes. Black nylon clung modestly to her legs. A lopsided belt tied around her petite form, tugged down at her left hip slightly by the weight of a sheathed mortuary sword. While young and casually dressed, she was clearly of some kind of fighting profession. Choppy, brown shoulder-length hair reached a horizontal cut scar on her left shoulder, with a small, lopsided topknot of hair tied ornately with an assortments of beads and a red feather. From her left elbow hung a long red ribbon, tied to her thin but toned arm for an unknown reason. She glances up at Elsa and the Wyvern and stops to ask:
"Hey.. I heard fighting around here. I'm new to town, do you know where there's an armory or a shop I can buy weapons?"

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle Character Portrait: Lamina
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When Mark lifted her face to meet his own gaze she smiled softly as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips the smile grew and her heart hammered with joy at that feeling, it had been a month and a year since she last saw him. A year in full since Matthew had lied to her about Marks apparent death. But now she knew the truth.

She kissed him again as they hugged tighter. Once more sobbing, this time tears of pure joy. She was with the one she missed as much as she missed Matthew as a child. Matthew was different however, he was her teacher whe nshe was a girl, he tried to teach her to control her powers. But it was not until news of Marks death. which she knew now had never occured. Had she mastered her power just like Matthew had.

She was safe. She knew it. Mark could protect her, even though she herself could defend herself. She was safe, and she knew it. With that thought, her sword, which she had dropped to the ice. Faded into naught but snowflakes that snew blew away in the air as the buildings heating system kicked in in a vain attempt to quell the sudden cold. With the arms of her dearest friend holding her, Elsa cried herself to a peace sleep. She never felt herself get picked up nor did she feel herself get carried either. She faintly heard a voice, two voices. One asking a wuestion, the other giving brief directions into town, then nothing.

The setting changes from sol-avenue to The Abandoned Slums

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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It was the morning after the arrival of the Queen of Arendelle, and since then, her first and only Love, Mark, carried her bridal style as she slept in his arms to his make-shift home in the Slums of Wing City. Not the best place for a Queen to be, but one where she would be safe with him, no matter what happened.

The building of the old Assassin Den looked like the rest of the slums from the outside: absolute crap. However the inside looked very cozy, and in fact was very cozy. The loft where normally the commander would carryout the paper work for the district the Den occupied was used for sleeping; having been covered completely in thick, soft pillows and blankets. The lower half was used for the rest of Mark's living needs: cooking, paperwork, targeting, researching, etc.

For now, however, Mark lay in bed with Elsa, having fallen asleep with her still in his arms after arriving with her also being asleep at the time of their arrival. Currently, Mark was still asleep, his face the most peaceful thing Elsa had probably seen in a while, considering the condition of Arendelle recently.

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Character Portrait: The Wyvern Character Portrait: Elsa Queen of Arendelle
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Using Marks chest for a pillow was not exactly the best thing that a Queen was allowed to do. As she had never really done it before back in Arendelle to begin with. Almost too shy at times to ask him to dinner, most of the time though he was shy and she was rather forthcoming. Other times when she was worried or focused on her training that Matthew was doing made her the shy one and rather closed off at times.

But sleep, that welcome blackness. She did not get it all. It was welcoming. But it was revisiting an old memory she wanted to remain frozen and locked away. But alas she was unable to control her dreams. This memory in question was between her and Matthew. His face apparently on a wall, as she listened to him speak. Snow was falling as it was winter time at the time.

"I am sorry." Matthew said, he removed from his belt an item, a letter of some form. But no it was an image. "I spoke with Blackmane over what to do with the remains of the contract, she had burned the contract, but this remained. I think you should have it." He handed it to her.

In the dream she opened it. It was of her and Mark together. Anna had snuck in a camera from Matthew; when Elsa had been promoted from Warrior to Assassin First Rank and Mark to assassin Fourth Rank. As she stared at the image, both in her dream and the memory. Frost built up within the dream as blackness filled her vision.


Her eyes snapped open and she jerked awake. for the moment she felt lost of where she was. Yet then she remembered, Mark was alive, it was all a dream! A memory locked away. She took several deep breaths and calmed herself down. OK, its alright, you're with Mark. Calm down, Elsa. She told herself. She looked around.

Where was she ? There were many pillows and blankets scattere about the lost. Several thick mattresses too formed sleeping pallets of sorts. Pillows were everywhere, along with a low table that had what looked to be a half eaten chicken. An Assassin throwing knife she recognised being in the meat. It looked about a day or so old. She couldn't tell.

She was about to get up and look around when she felt something alive against her, and also heard a loud snore. Looking down she saw Mark, sound asleep. Yet looking oddly peaceful. Like that first night when she insisted he stay in the castle. Mostly because she wanted Matthew there at her door like on the first night he was back. But Matthew had at the time gone to see Pabbie about something concerning her sister. Of course once she explained at the time of why she wanted Mark outside her door; then he stayed. She had found him the next moring, sound asleep at his post, the most peaceful look on his face she had ever seen in her life.

Seeing him so peacefully asleep. And having no idea what time it was. She laid back down, once more using Marks chest as her pillow, and went back to sleep. It was just a bad dream the last month and a year. That was all it was. Just a bad dream she could not waken from. Until now

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Whether or not Mark felt Elsa's quick movements as she jolted awake was unclear, but he let out a small groan that could be mistaken for a snore, and shifted his head a little and sniffled once or twice before Elsa finally rested her head on his chest again. A small digital clock on the wall said it was 12:00 AM.... no wonder Mark was knocked out at the moment.

His left arm, the one with the beautifully deadly gauntlet, lay at his side, and his right arm was underneath Elsa's waste, as if he had snuggled her during their sleep, but now his arm lay limp in his deep sleep, his chest steadily rising and falling, his heart-beat loud, strong, and yet calm, and....strangely relaxing in the way it seemed like a low drum that lulled people to sleep.

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For long moments Elsa remained awake, listening to the steady thump-thump of Marks heartbeat. It was strong, loud, and... oddly relaxing, it lulled her a bit and she struggled to remain awake for but a moment longer. Trying still to make sense of it all. And yet, she was not rightly able to do so. All of it made little to no sense to her whatsoever. Why had Blackmane and Matthew lied to her ? Sure she forgave Mark for leaving, because he said he was sorry ? No. Not because he was saying he was sorry. But because she loved him.

And he loved her, which was why he had left ? It was hard for her to think as the steady beating of his hart lulled her to sleep. She had no idea what time it was and never did notice the clock on the wall. All she could think about was the fact Mark was within her reach. She saw his left arm laying on the blanket. Just laying there. The vambrace he'd always worn still on. Beautiful yet deadly she knew. She'd seen it in action many times.

Just seeing the vambrace made her think of her own. Feeling with her left hand, the wound now long gone and the pain just a memory locked away, she felt both vambraces, w thing ice creations she had made at Matthews bidding and instruction never thawed, but they made wonderful ice blades hidden that none saw on her arms.

She remembered then the battle with Prince Hans; how his dagger had cut through her midele figer on her left hand, splitting her hand into two at the wrist before her hidden ice blade stopped the weapon from ruining her arm. She clinched her fist and briefly shook her head to clear the memory from her sight. She did not want to think about that now.

What she wanted to think about, was Mark, the good fun times they had. With that thought, she fell back asleep. the steady beating of Marks heart lulling her into a deep peaceful sleep. The memory of when they first met alive in her dreams. For once she slept like a rock. Dead to the world, in a peaceful sleep. Something that came very rare for her to be sure. She had forgotten the last time she had slept so peacefully since Matthew took her under his wing as an Assassin Recruit all those years before.

With those thoughts in her mind she made a mental note to ask him truly why he left when she woke up.

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The next morning.....

Mark was already up and about, cooking a breakfast which filled the entire Den with the smell of bacon and eggs. By now, Mark had taken off all of his armor, having set it on its appropriate racks on the far wall behind him. He also had taken off his coat, leaving him in a simple t-shirt and pants at the moment.

Once the breakfast was cooked, he went up into the loft and he placed a hand on Elsa's shoulder, gently shaking her to wake her. "Elsa...good morning." he says softly, patting her as well before leaning forward and kissing her cheek gently. He then guided her down and sat her at a small table scarcely large enough for two people to sit at. He then put down a large plate full of food down in front of her, and a large glass of milk as well.

He did the same for himself and sat across from her, smiling as he ate his food rather quietly until words finally came forth. "So then, my love...How is Arendelle?" he asks calmly. "And by Arendelle, I mean you." He adds, winking softly.

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Elsa slept like a rock, Never feeling Mark get out from under her. As she had used his chest as a pillow for some time during the night until she either rolled off him or he somehow got an actual pillow between them. She never felt or heard anything amiss all night long while she slept.

The scent of food cooking woke her slightly however. As he woke her the first words Elsa said was in some strange langauge, Norse most likely, saying "Just set it on the table Kai, I'll get to it...." But when she felt Marks kiss on her cheek an eye slowly opened and focused. The snowflake pattern flicked around apparently crazy for a brief moment before focus set in and she saw Mark. How in the world did he get up without her knowing ?

It didn't matter. Not at this point at least. She took his hand and let him guide her down the stairs to a table he had set with all sorts of food for breakfeast, though she could tell the table barely had the strength to hold it all on it. She was for the moment confused of where she was, but she ate. Glad for the food that Mark provided for her. She looked about the Den as she ate, wondering again where she was. Recognising the layout as if she were in Arendelle in one of the many districts.

But no, she was not in Arendelle, she had gone off on a contract, self imposed exile mostly, leaving Anna and Kristoff to run the Kingdom while she tried to figure something important out. Only to find Mark instead. Was that what she was trying to figure out ?

She smiled at his question "Your love ?" She asked him, mostly in a joking tone but she knew he meant it. "We were close weren't we ?" She asked him. She remembered finding him, she forgot how many times, passed out in the Arendelle Castle Vaults looking into the history of the kingdom and nieghboring kingdoms. "After you left, there were still a few problems to take care of. Matthew and I found where Hans had gone. To his homeland, the Duke had returned to his. Our scouts had reported that Hans and the Duke were together at Oslo. They also had something that was important to me." As she spoke a hand went to her kneck at her necklace.

"It was hard. but, in the last year, we've managed to regrow what we had lost. Arendelle is prospering quite well." Elsa said, then she realised what he really meant, her. How was she faring ? "Well, about a month after your.... death.... I mastered my powers." Elsa then explained how it had occured. She had apparently been the focal point of a powerrful blizzard in Oslo. When it was over she wasn't wounded as badly as she was. And was only sore, and tired. But mostly sore. It also explained her eyes as she said that most people asked what happened or if they were tricks of nature to have the snowflake pattern. At first she freaked out when she saw herself in the mirror. But then actually liked the pattern that she had in her eyes. She saw as clear as she always had. Nothing had really changed outside of that.

Well, maybe her swordskills.

She then asked a pivital question: "What about you ? Why did you leave without saying goodbye ?"

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Mark nodded and listened as Elsa spoke of what had happened while he had been away, a small grin on his face as he listened and ate and drank. However, his smile vanished as Elsa asked her pivital question. "Me....." he thought for a second; he hadn't thought about himself in a while, actually; he'd been busy carrying out missions of his own.

"I...I left because I wanted to see the world, and because of the guilt I had over that failed Den defense." he said simply. "I had originally planned on travelling the world with you after we were done reclaiming Arendelle....but my guilt stopped me from asking you." He explained, sighing softly.

"As for why I didn't say goodbye...." he sighed again and lightly tapped his chin with his index finger; a nervous habit he had. "I loved you too much to say goodbye, if that makes sense." He said tentatively. "I wouldn't have been able to leave and do anything if I saw the pain on your face at our goodbye." he said.

He bowed his head and set his hands on the table softly. "I'm... I'm sorry if I caused you heartbreak....I didn't see another way to rid myself of that guilt." He said.

For a long moment he was silent; having finished his plate he leaned back in his chair and sighed again before finally talking.

"Once I was done travelling the world, I settled here in Wing City, joined the Order under a different name, dawned this persona, and then the Templars wiped out the Order in this part of the city while I was away on a contract." He explained. "So, I was alone again....I refurbished the inside of this place so I could live here, and, well....the rest is unimportant; it was mostly just hunting down the men who killed every Assassin in this part of the city, sharpening my skills, learning newer skills, and..." a faint blush actually forced its way onto his cheeks for a second before vanishing as he looked up at Elsa, staring her dead in the eye. "Thinking of you. Of all the fun times we had, of the time we spent together just showering each other in love with the hugs, the kisses, the snuggles, everything." He chuckled at himself, resting his elbows on the table and resting his forehead in his hands for a second while he chuckled.

"It was during that time I realized I still loved you, and will always love you, Elsa." He said, looking back up to her again. "But the agony of being unable to reach you without possibly compromising Arendelle held me back from returning....And the possible wrath of my peers who wouldn't forgive my failures." He sighed again, now staring at the necklace around Elsa's neck. "And there was the fear that you had moved on....found someone else to love.... God, that fear was agonizing....it has held me back from doing anything at all for the longest time..." He admitted, finally looking back up to face. He then smiled; it was that same face he fell in love with almost immediately upon seeing it; the fact that his superiors were there held him back at that point, but it obviously didn't stop him in the end.

"That's about it, really....Unless you want to know more." he said, glancing at the clock and taking the empty plates and cups to the sink and washing them quickly.

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"When I was told of your death, which I now see as untrue. I made me focus." She lifted her part of the neckloace he had made up. "I never took this off. But it was missing one day, about a week after I learned of your untimely demise." She then expolained that Prince Hans had stolen in, thinking it some form of artefact to unlock something, and had at the time given it to the Duke. "I fought Hans after I killed the Duke. I wounded him though before passing out. It is too much to explain. I never took this necklace off. I never stop thinking of you that morning when you left for the Den to defend it."

She too remembered those times they had together. Most of the time it was in public, they were rarely alone. Only on those rare occasions when they were alone together did they truly enjoy being together. The nights by the fireside. Long walks in the woods. Swimming in the Fjords. "I left Arendelle a week ago, to try and figure out something I learned when I mastered my powers. Instead I found you. I never stopped thinking of you either. Each day that dawned since I was told of your death made me remember that you were gone, and fueled me in my work."

She may be a queen, but she acted more like a Princess at times. However, there were times when she acted more like an Assassin over anything else. After all, Matthew trained her. And her powers aided her in her skills at dealing out death where needed. There was however the small problem of blending in. She stuck out like a sore thumb. At least until Matthew taught her how to properly blend in and not draw attention to herself. And with Mark dead before she learned the truth, it only helped her focus on what had to be done, so that his death was not in vain.

For a long moment there was silence, the only sound was running water and the clatter of dishes and mark cleaned up the breakfast meal. Finally she said. "I think I understand. What happened at the Arko District I do not blame you for. Others may, but I do not. At this point seeing you alive, learning of why you left rather than be lied to. That has made me undersand I think. You felt guilty about the lives of innocent childdren and elderly that were lost. I understand that. You did not want to face my wrath. I was mad yes, but not at you. I was never mad at you. But you did break my heart when I heard you had died." She had in fact locked herself in her room for a week, only allowing Kai, her most trusted butler, to bring in food and drink at the appointed times, but otherwise she was left alone.

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When he heard that Hans took the necklace thinking it was to unlock something he rolled his eyes; typical Templar talk. As Elsa spoke, he repeatedly had to swallow down his emotion in order to stop himself from crying in a mix of sadness and happiness.

After he was done cleaning, Elsa spoke again and he turned to look at her, walking slowly towards her and sitting across from her again. Mark lightly took her hand in his and smiled softly. "Thank you...for understanding." he said, raising her hand and kissing it gently. "I still only hope I didn't cause you too much pain." he repeated himself.

He then glanced at the time and smiled. "Come...we must get you cleaned; after the battle I think you had before stumbling across me, I'd say you need a good, long shower or bath." he said calmly, a smile on his face as he lead her to the bathroom. He brought her a towel or two, soap, shampoo, etc and then gave her some privacy to clean herself. When she was done, he'd enter again, his cloak on and hood up to seemingly block his eyes from staring at her body as he held out a set of clothing with one hand, and a large Assassin's cloak draped over his other arm.

"For you, My Queen." He said, smiling. "You never did get your own real coat, so...I made you one." He smiled more and once she took the clothes, he unfolded the coat and showed her; it was not as bright as a color as she was used to wearing, as it was a dark grey, but it had light blue details on it that blended it perfectly and gave the cloak a sense of beauty, yet also added to the deadliness.

"You like it?" he asked.