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*A/N:Gender for this story in undetermined, therefore it can be either. Though I will say that the meaning of this story may mean more if you reader with the idea of Male!Reader.

“What good is a throne to you now?”

He is silent, trembling in the wake of fire and ash. Sections of the castle and homes crash into bitter memories of glories once had as fiery tribulations swallow them whole and terror consumes all within the kingdom’s walls.

Perhaps this is what they meant when they said ‘hell on earth.’

“You must’ve meant something when you told her not to be the monster they feared her to be. Surely you felt something when you let her die…”

His gaze, that has long since been upon the ground, look up at long last.

“I felt nothing” is his firm response as he tightens his grip about the handle of his sword.

“Then neither will I.”

You awake with a start. That was the third time in the past few days, waking with chills down your spine and uncertainty pounding within your heart. How and when was all this struggling and strife to end?

“My Liege,” a soldier calls from outside the tent, tugging you from the abyss of internal distress.

“My Liege. We’ve news of an upcoming attack,” another voice says, your advisor.

You are swift to your feet, throwing sheets from your body and quickly tugging on your clothes. As you exit the tent you are greeted by your advisor and a handful of soldier, Kristoff being amongst them. The man had sought you out specifically before the war officially began, pledging his allegiance to you in the name of vengeance. You had neither the time nor the opportunity to inquire about the burning rage and desire retribution. The man was a worthy opponent it was an honor to have him fight amongst your ranks. The encampment is a flurry of men rushing to prepare for battle. The winding and rising stacks of smoke in the distance relay the striking truth that the enemy was drawing near.

“Have the barricades manned,” you demand in an even voice to the few soldiers awaiting your specific command.

They nod accordingly before bowing and swiftly setting out to work. It was a dark and sobering thought to thinks that some of them would not be returning…alive that is. You run a hand through your hair before turning to peer at both your advisor and Kristoff, a heavy gravity in your weary eyes. Both men nod at your gaze before dropping to kneel on a single knee, heads bowed.

“Tonight is the night. We hold the defensive position no more. Tonight we return all prior favors in tenfold. In the name of our own kingdom…and for Arendelle.

“Yes my Liege,” both men reply in unison.

“Kristoff, spread the word to the others. This is the end.”

The men fought bravely and in time beneath the moon’s glow they’d managed to break down the enemy’s defense and at long last invade the castle.

“Check every room. Ensure that women and children are taken to safety first!”

Your soldiers respond to your orders by promptly heading off to do as they’d been told. You, on the other hand, make haste up the tarnished and flaming stairwell, Kristoff following closely behind. The flames that make to lick at your skin and the fiery arrow zipping past were of no concern. Your sole concern was one individual. The door is barricaded, but is not feat for Kristoff’s brute force, after all the man was consumed with hate.

‘No one would ever be Anna’ he would often say; his sole justification for his tainted hands.

With another thrust of his body, door flies open with a bang, cracking loudly against the walls, revealing the dark mastermind behind this brutal war.

Hans.

You can hear, over the cries and the shouts from outside and all throughout the castle, Kristoff growl at the sight of the man. The blonde is revved to attack, but with a firm hand you hold him back.

“Hans,” you begin, “Let us finish this.”

Hans doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. In fact the grin upon his face only reveals amusement. He barks out a laugh—a sinister cackle.

“Come to stop me, have you?” he inquires playfully, darkly.

“Hans. This is enough. We have you surrounded. Simply surrender.”

“Surrender? Are you telling me to surrender!? Why would I ever give up this!” He exclaims somewhat crazed, gesturing with his hand towards the window that only showed fire, ash, death and lunacy.

“I’m asking you to surrender. There is no reason for this…this madness.”

“Oh but there is, you see! I have so much reason to want this.”

You frown as you take a cautionary step forward, but Hans isn’t alarmed in the slightest. Instead he finds it somewhat amusing, you attempting to overthrow his scorching kingdom.

“In fact, this is all your fault. You only have yourself to blame.”

“You sonofa—!” Kristoff snarls, but you cut him off with your own words.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. The end result is the same. If you do not surrender, well I must follow protocol.”

Hans merely replies with a sinister smirk.

“Still I must ask.”

“Oh please do,” the brunette urges with a dark elation.

“What good is a throne to you now?”

The ominous look on Hans’ face changes, appearing somewhat remorseful. So you decide to play on his emotions, hoping the man still had a shred of human decency left inside.

There were words, words you used to attempt to find some sense of morality. But you found none. There was nothing—no one—there to save.

“I felt nothing.”

Hans tightens his grip about the handle of his sword.

“Then neither will I.”

And the fight began.

The kingdom of Arendelle had been reclaimed in the name of the fallen princess and queen. In time you would have to depart for your kingdom and you would, after a citizen vote, leave Kristoff in charge.

’I’m sure it’s what Anna would’ve wanted.’

Kristoff hadn’t replied to your statement. Perhaps he hadn’t the words to do so. Or perhaps he found himself consumed with the thought the kingdom’s rightful heir should be ruling rather than him. Either way, the man rose to the challenge and took the battered kingdom under his wing.

It had been a few months since the war had ended at long last. They called it the War of Fire and Ice. Your name had been revered and would likely remain so all throughout history: the royal leader who saved Arendelle.

None of it mattered though. None of the praise would change what you had done. Nothing could ever clean his blood from your hands, remove the image of him falling to the ground gasping for breath, and nothing could ever mend your heart, mind, or soul after watching Hans perish in your arms...by your own hands.

“Oh Hans, you foolish man. My foolish, foolish little brother.”