Alan and Hilde, Final Part: Rescuing the Prime Minister of Arendelle

Alan, commander of the Borealis Corps, and Hilde Von Altheim were locked in a desperate struggle to free Viola Mundilfari.

Suspended above her own throne hall, the immobile Countess could only watch helplessly as Hilde and Alan faced down the most powerful foe that Arendelle had faced so far. True, Majestic Maximilian hadn’t encountered Elsa or the full force of the kingdom’s army yet, and not even Anna was aware of his existence. Vi had intended to keep it that way by confronting him early on as he infiltrated Mundilfari Keep. But he had crushed Vi effortlessly, trapping her in a cocoon of pure light, the enchantment perpetually torturing her undead flesh without allowing her to die.

She was initially fearful for the pair, as she watched them duel the Moonborn. She wanted to shout, to warn them about his dizzying mastery of sunlight. And he held nothing back as he blinked and winked out of existence and slashed at Hilde and Alan with white-hot arcs of radiance. He surpassed Katina Romanov’s Grand Dukes easily, and perhaps…

Even Elsa… she would struggle against Majestic Max. Perhaps even lose.

But as the battle continued, much to Vi’s impressed shock, Majestic Max was visibly struggling.

He was being pushed back.

First of all, there was the matter of Alan’s overwhelming snowstorm, which wasn’t enough to overwhelm Max’s rays of light but certainly pushed them back, absorbed them in a howling swirl of snow, sleet, and hail that wrecked the remainder of the throne room, tearing apart the red carpet and hurling shards of glass everywhere. Alan’s swordplay was nothing like what Vi had seen before as he closed the distance with Max repeatedly, swinging and thrusting his blade again and again at the Moonborn, who could barely keep up by melting away Alan’s perpetually roaring snowstorm with his rays of sunlight.

“Where’s your boasting now, huh?” barked Alan, advancing as Majestic Max retreated. “Where’s your mommy Chang’e to save you now, HUH?!”

Just when Majestic Max conjured a spear of pure light, preparing to punch a hole in Alan’s defences, Hilde went on the offensive, her ropy, near-indestructible werewolf’s body smashing against him and her deadly claws tearing into his body, forcing him to regenerate repeatedly as he struggled against the terrible wounds she was inflicting. His three-piece white suit had long been ruined, shredded into nothingness.

He staggered away, growling in frustration as light closed up his savaged flesh. Hilde howled bestially and launched herself at him, tackling him while a snowy blast from Alan’s sword punctured his chest. Hilde dragged a screaming Max across the ground with her furry, muscular arm before throwing him away and sending him crashing at the footsteps of Vi’s ruined throne.

Alan’s eyes glowed with mystical energy bestowed by the Nordic mistress of storms, Skadi. “We can do this all day. Get up, and we’ll just knock you back down. How much time have you wasted here, just barely healing yourself from the damage me and Hilde have inflicted on you?” He glanced up at Vi’s hovering, suspended form. “You made it clear you showed Vi no mercy. So expect none from us.”

Before Alan could direct a torrent of sleet and hail at him, Majestic Max swore in frustration, clenching his teeth as he glared daggers at the rescue party. “Two against one, and both of you are quite aggressive to boot,” he sniffed. “You two deserve each other.” He aimed two fingers at Vi. “A final blast of sunlight – “

Hilde roared wildly and, in a thunderously quick step, appeared before Majestic Max just as he was about to fire a deadly shot at his hostage. There was a great CRUNCH. Majestic Max screamed as he felt Hilde’s claws dig into his back, her huge hand bursting from his chest sickeningly. Satisfied that she’d ruined his heart and lungs, Hilde pulled back viciously, sending Max collapsing to the floor. He swore repeatedly as he quickly got to work healing himself with sunlight, cursing Hilde and Alan with a series of expletives before disappearing in a shower of gold.

“What the – is he…?” asked Alan, the snowstorm gradually settling down around him.

Hilde let out a mighty howl, before her lyncanthropic features receded, muzzle gradually returning to feminine nose and lips, her teeth drastically shrinking, and her wolf’s ears receding into her blonde hair. Speaking of hair, her furry form was gone, replaced by her lean human form. “I doubt it. He’s just decided that he doesn’t want to engage us for now. And he was toying with Vi all along. She’s not the Moonborn’s endgame. Far from it.”

With Majestic Max gone, the enchantment keeping Vi in place shattered, and Vi limply fell several feet from the air, but thankfully, was caught in bridal fashion by Hilde. “She’s been kept in perpetual agony for weeks,” cried the Mundilfari commander, gently setting her near-naked body on the ground. For the first time, she sounded worried and scared. Vi was burning up, as if she had a terrible fever. Her bare legs trembled. The bare-chested Alan quickly ran to his abandoned coat, which he’d discarded while fighting Max, and ran back to Vi, throwing it over her. Vi’s skin was burning hot, her vampiric eyes shut tight as she groaned in agony, finally able to budge.

“So… that was the first Moonborn,” moaned the prime minister, barely able to utter words. “And he’s no doubt one of the lesser ones.”

“Say nothing. You must rest.” Hilde gritted her teeth. I’ve failed as her guardian. No. She’s not dead. As long as she lives, I can try something. And until she breathes no longer, I have no excuses.

“Alan… Hilde.” Vi’s voice was a weak sigh. “I’m glad you came for me. Being rescued feels… embarassing. But pleasantly so.”

She smiled weakly. “It’s not too bad playing damsel in distress every now and then.”

“My Lady,” cried Hilde.

“Hilde, you big dumb-dumb, I’m overheating from that asshole’s sunrays,” rasped Vi. “If I crumble to vampiric dust, I’ve willed everything to you, and you’ll be not just the head of your clan, but my successor… the future Countess…”

“NO,” shouted Hilde, steady voice breaking. “No.”

“Hilde’s right. No more talking about ifs and maybes,” said Alan, shushing Vi as Hilde cradled the vampiress’s limp form tenderly, pressing her forehead against the side of Vi’s messy brown hair. “We’re going to get you back to Arendelle. You’ve been baked in sunlight for far too long.”

He put a caring hand on Hilde’s shoulder. “I’m not used to these kinds of things, but Vi needs a combination of dark magic and maybe some of Elsa’s Fifth Spirit powers to survive. Let’s back to Uncle Mike and Elsa. We have no time to lose.”

Hilde nodded, staring down at the nearly-unconscious Vi. “Let’s go home.”

*

Years ago. Before Vi became a vampire

Hilde was very young when she first faced her destiny. She had just undergone the Ceremony of the Wolf Champion, the ritual by which every generation of Von Altheim heirs swore themselves to the service of the Mundilfari scion.

Unlike the Mundilfaris, who devour each other every generation so that the sole survivor embodies the clan’s singular power and ruthlessness alone, the Von Altheims were much more decentralized and harmonious as a clan. They had a much… healthier relationship as a family.

After all, they’re wolves at heart, and wolves are creatures of community.

Hilde was at her clan estate, eating dinner with her mother and father, both military strategists of peerless esteem. Few knew it and lived to tell the tale, but her parents were also extremely terrifying werewolves. While the family rarely saw each other, given their campaigning around the world, their occasional reunions were always ones of quiet bonding.

Tonight was slightly more reflective, as mother and father observed their daughter that had now taken on the family’s greatest responsibility as Countess Viola Mundilfari’s protector and military commander. They were wolfing down, pun not intended, a rich meal of steak, potatoes, and wine underneath their chandelier with candles, sitting across from each other at a long table.

“How did it go, Baroness – I mean, Hilde?” her father, who like her grandfather and great-grandfather had rich golden hair and lupine eyes.

“I always forget you renounced your title, despite your father’s and my protests,” grumbled her mother. “We bit our tongues because your talents and hard work have brought honour to our name even more than what you threw away. Even so, the position of baroness is ancient, even older than that of the Mundilfari’s countess title. It’s a great honour. That you discarded it so flippantly – “

Hilde shook her head. “My decision was anything but flippant. Consider it my act of complete devotion to Lady Mundilfari,” she said. “Now that my life is hers, what use do I have for noble embellishments?”

Hilde’s father chewed quietly at his steak, eating elegantly. “Anyway. The ceremony? Was it as grand as how I recall, when I was protector of Countess Vi’s father?”

Hilde shrugged, cutting up her piece of fresh fish. “I devoted myself to her in the shadow of Mephistopheles,” she replied. “She’s a powerful noble, but I’m not sure how much she can enjoy herself as long as she’s in thrall to that demon.”

“Ah, yes,” said Hilde’s father, shaking his head. “We may die for the Mundilfaris, but their servitude is of a far worse kind than what we have to them. We chose to serve them, through covenant stretching into the mists of time. Mephistopheles, well…”

Hilde grimaced. “The Countess suffers many burdens. I shall lighten them. That’s all I intend to do.”

Hilde’s mother nodded approvingly. “Remember, darling warrior, your rigorous training. Your life has been leading up to this. Now, you serve Arendelle’s greatest noblewoman.”

The lupine guardian nodded. “Heil Mundilfari.”

*

TO BE CONTINUED! ARENDELLE FIGHTS BACK!