First things first: I don't own frozen. (i do own the original characters however)

second things second: this is to be a complete rework of Opposites attract. I am very sorry to the people who where enjoying the last version and please understand that I really was committed to finishing it. But there where just massive issues that i felt where holding it back. So i have decided to rewrite what i wrote, strip out some of the stuff that didn't contribute much to the story and add stuff that will contribute throughout.

I say now that a lot has changed, entire chapters have been thrown in the trash, the plot has been restructured and the lore has been reevaluated. I wasn't to sure where i wanted to take the last version until around chapter 10, now however i know exactly where and how i am going to drive this story. So here is the first big change, a prologue, my last version didn't have one of theses.

I'll only say this once: happy reading people.

To live to die; to die for the living.

To live by the blade; to smite the nonliving – Extract from the code of the Bladewalkers.

"Are you one of them?" a child said, his voice struggling to overcome the sound of cool winds beating the ship's sails like drums. His voice being hard to hear wasn't the reason he received no answer however.

The child drew closer, trying to see past the hood, but backed away at the approach of Tholan. He noticing the sword hilt his hand so tightly grasped, the blue and black leather of his armor and distinctive slit in his boot. The boy had a right to be fearful, Bladewalkers such as Tholan had grown rather infamous back in the jagged plains. He'd know the exaggerated stories that mothers would use as blackmail against disobedient children. All know the tales that speak of Tholan's kind kidnapping children in the night and training them to be ruthless slayers of the nonliving.

"Let's move," Tholan said in a hushed tone, "and try to be more careful. Last thing we need is people learning that a dragon knight walks among them." That last bit was an exceptionally quite whisper.

The knight sighed and moved with Tholan on the ship through the crowds of refugees. He kept his head fixed towards the wooden deck below so his hood of brown leather would shroud his eyes. He observed seeping mold and noticed the planks would warp under his step like old hide. Amazing really that this ship managed the journey from the Jagged Plains to Arendelle. Not that it made the trip with haste: sixteen days spent aloft on seas that surged like river rapids.

"So this is Arendelle then," the knight said with a quick glance at the world around him. "It's certainly a lot greener."

"It's not called the green north without reason," Tholan said back. Everyone in the crowd was staring at his blue cape. After registering the black symbol of a sword-impaled griever, they moved from his path.

Tholan, shadowed by the knight, stopped before two men in silk-weaved clothes of green and purple with pops of gold trim around the collars and sleeves. The harbor marshals no doubt, here to make sure no stowaways or smugglers would find their way of this ship. They stood ahead of a wooden gangway that led down to the port. The first people to step on it where Guardsmen with halberds flashing in the moonlight, they wore gambersons of the same green and purple color scheme.

The knight noticed a close resemblance to the flag flying in the port. The green and purple matched the background and the gold trim resembled the flower depicted in the flags image. The knight had no hope of identifying this flower, its shape and features where completely alien to him. A lot of things about this new land where unusual: the smell of salt rather than sulfur; the squawks of seagulls rather than rock hawks.

But not all was different, the knight could spot great mountains to the north that pierced the heavens and he could feel a certain power in the air. It was an unnatural coldness on the wind. Not a coldness that would make you shiver. It was a crisp chill that tingled with the essence of excitement. Something seemed off, upon these winds rode a dark aroma of fear. Every now and then came a bite of frost that would make your hair stand on end. A bad Oman indeed.

"What do you sense?" came Tholan's voice over his shoulder.

"Magic," the knight said back, he paused for the sake of keeping his draconian senses focused, "far more powerful than we anticipated, but undisciplined. Volatile like we feared it would be."

Tholan nodded and sifted his attention back to the harbor marshal. He was holding two pieces of paper in his hands, official passes to grant refugees passage into Arendelle. An assistant had taken the passes into his hands and was discussing their validity.

"What do you think?" the assistant asked.

The marshal leaned in. The steel rims of his spectacles caught a sliver of moonlight as he looked the documents over several times before nodding. "They seem genuine," he said before taking hold of the passes and lifting them into the moonlight, "but I am not sure about the seal for being blue whist the others we have seen thus far have been red. One can't jump to conclusions with matters like these."

The knight looked to his side and saw that boy again, he was still trying to get a glimpse under the hood. The knight smiled and pulled back his cloak in a way so only the child would see his hands. A snap of his fingers brought to life a little flame that burned without fuel and plumed no smoke. Now the boy's curiosity would be sated at the sight of magic, tapping his nose a few times with a wink.

"Hmm. Okay then," the marshal said with a smile and handed back the passes to Tholan. "Everything seems in order, welcome to Arendelle." Tholan and the knight stepped across the wooden gangway onto Arendelle's port. Strait away there was difference: the port was solid like oak should be. It would had been nice to have felt such solidity back on the ship. The constant worry about the deck falling through; the relentless rocking that ringed out your insides. The knight's hatred for ships had just been kindled.

Then in his ear, there was pleading and arguing, it would seem the group behind didn't have passes. Two guardsmen where moving in the direction of this group, halberds to bare and expressionless faces that would show no remorse.

"Wait!" the knight looked up to say.

"Eyes," Tholan muttered and the knight quickly diverted his vision back to his boots.

"Is there something the matter," the harbor marshal spoke.

"Their passes," the knight said as he moved back up the gangway. "Are right here." A leather purse found its way into the marshal's palm. He took a peak and licked his lips at the sight of the silver moon contrasting with Galahandrun gold. He looked up and that simile was back on his face. Arendelle's economy may have ran on Kroner and ore, but gold would always sway man like chocolate can sway children.

"It would seem these people have just purchased a onetime pass," he directed those spectacles to the refugees, "you're free to proceed. Welcome to Arendelle," he said. The guards stepped away and allowed them to pass.

The knight returned to Tholan's side with a smile of his own. There was only praise and gratitude in his ear now, until of course the next group in line stepped up. Tholan was quick to lead the knight away into the crowds of refugees spilling into the town before things went any further. The layout of Arendelle proved to be pretty straight forward, mainly because everything was so much smaller here than in the Jagged Plains. Almost immediately from the port did the green and beige brick of the palace come into view. One of the windows, a triangular one looking out to the north mountain, there where cold whispers of magic coming from behind it. The cold felt like rope tugging at the knight's intrigue, what kind of person would power like that shape?

"That noble side of yours has always been hard to keep in check," Tholan said.

"It certainly gets distracting at times," the knight admitted.

"I didn't mean to accuse. In the world we live in now, with so many people all working for nobody but themselves, nobleness has become a rare necessity."

Tholan's hand tighten around his sword's hilt. He was letting his blue cape flow behind him and made no effort to conceal his weapon. His brown eyes where scanning the streets; his bearded mouth not so much as smirking. "It was reckless to draw so much attention however. No doubt prying eyes are on us now."

"All this sneaking about grows sickening," the knight said. He felt suffocated, like his personality was drowning under all the subtly.

"Deal with it, we aren't in the great plains of jagged stone anymore. This is the green north. Magic is seldom used in this part of the world, its best that we try not to draw further attention to ourselves."

Of course Tholan wouldn't have a problem with being subtle. Bladewalkers where known for working in the shadows. The truth about them was that they were organised by the king of Galahandra to fight whatever horrors moonless nights would animate. Some portions of their infamous legends where true, they did recruit from the strongest children Galahandra had to offer. But they kidnapped anybody, they drafted children by right of a contracted signed by the king himself. As Tholan would justify: a childhood is all the blade asks you to sacrifice. Do so and you'll gain an ally for life.

"I am still not sure about any of this," the knight said as they walked through the town. They split off from the crowds of refugees, finding themselves to be the only ones heading towards the gates of the palace. "We can't exactly count on them just letting us in."

"Of course we can," Tholan assured, "we're expected as I keep telling you. Notice how our passes have a blue seal on them rather than a red one. That's how the guards will know it's us."

They came up to the palace, an impressive structure to say the least. The light of the full moon was reflecting from the sea's surface to project an oceanic pattern over the walls, waving and flowing to give the palace a life of its own. It was a poised testament to Arendelle's greatness in both scale and appearance. The architecture was humble like the cottages from the town, but there was this sharpness in its design which give it that certain composer you'd expect of anything royal. Five guards in those green and purple gambesons where posted in a line at the open gatehouse. They lacked the same impressiveness. The fully armoured, elite Halan'axtra guard of Galahandra would put them to shame.

Four of the guards tensed into attention and crossed their halberds to block the path. The fifth one stepped up to Tholan. He held up the suite of plate armor with posture and wore a purple cape depicting Arendelle's flag with pride. He marched with stiff movements that pounded with a metallic beat.

"Guard Captain Rilen Pascal of his majesty King Agdar, ruler and protector of the green north. You shall state your titles and business here," the guard captain ordered with a voice as stiff as his step.

Tholan handed over the passes without a word. The guard captain took them and looked back up after glancing at the blue seal. His broad face loosened, but was still deadly serious like a razor is deadly sharp. "Follow me. His majesty awaits in the throne room," he said on a spin of his heel.

"When we're presented before his majesty," Tholan started in that hushed tone again, "please try to let me do the talking."

"No promises," the knight grinned under his hood.

They entered the palace through the massive doors of solid oak to step into the entrance hall. Again the knight only took glances, being sure not to keep his head lifted for long. The interior lived up to the exterior's standards. The ceiling rose so high that it escaped the light of the fixed torches. Two glass chandeliers hung from this unlit ceiling to glisten like stars draping in twilight. The floor was made of polished wood so clean that it behaved like a mirror and the surrounding walls where decorated with a ruby-red wallpaper and hanging art. There where corridor entrances on both sides of the hall, as well as a twin staircase ahead that split off into two passageways like a snake tongue. Guardsmen where stationed at this staircase who snapped to attention at the guard captain's presence, "his majesty awaits," they said under breathe.

The corridors where long and branched off into ridged junctions. Silver light was shining from the windows, gently kissing the steel plate of knight armor lining the walls. The suites were empty, motionless, and yet ever watchful. Sentinels of inanimate steel, in your peripheral they would almost look alive. They came to a set of large double doors that where decorated with painted white and swirling patters of red. Another two guards were waiting at these doors who pushed them open at their captain's nod. The knight noticed these two guardsmen join to be escorts as the group entered the throne room. There were no windows, just walls of solid oak polished to an outstanding shine. The space was made narrow by two lines of hardwood columns holding the massive ceiling up where hanging touches of gold-encrusted steel hung down from.

At the far end of the room, on the red cushions of a humble throne sat the king of Arendelle with his queen sitting next to him on a throne of her own. The knight knew who she was, a women who once called herself princess of Galahandra. Induna the youthful. This women was known for her beauty: her bronze locks dulled the silver of her crown and the texture of her skin out perfected the craftsmanship of her dress. The marriage between these two had been arranged – as many overs had been before them – to ensure an ever lasting peace between Galahandra and Arendelle. It was agreed many years ago that members of the two royal families would be wedded once every thirty years as the ultimate sign of friendship and good will. Decisions of where the couple would rule would be determined by which kingdom had heirs. Agdar was a virgin king when he married Induna, so it was Arendelle that would be the kingdom Induna would come to be the queen of.

The group came to a stop roughly ten paces away from their majesties and the guards bowed before stepping to the side. Tholan and the knight where in the center of king Agdar's brown eyes now. He had taken a straight, composed posture laced with all the authority of being king. His expression was relatively blank to conceal weakness, but that tinniest hint of a hopeful smile didn't escape the dragon knight's vigilance. Induna was a little easier to read. Her smile was wide and inviting, yet spoke tales of sorrow: her home kingdom was facing trouble after all.

Tholan drew his sword and the guardsmen instantly responded, but an uplifted hand of the king held them back. It was a sword of sleek design with a slight curve to it. An arcane-tempered weapon forged from moonsilver, necessary for slaying creatures of the night. He span the blade until it was pointed at the floor and then he fell on one knee. The blade went through a slit in his boot and rang when it hit the floor. This was the salute of the Bladewalkers, something that Tholan had been doing since childhood. He would had stabbed his foot so many times now that a permanent slit would run straight through the flesh that a blade could travel down without drawing blood.

"Bow," Tholan muttered for noticing the king's frown.

"If I must," the knight whispered back. He kept his cloak close to him and lazily tilted his body over slightly, the kings frown grew larger. The knight smiled as Tholan sighed.

"Which one of you is Tholan Crescentheart?" King Agdar spoke.

"That is I, your majesty," Tholan said as he got up and put away his sword.

"Your friend doesn't seem to share your interest in manners, usually I wouldn't tolerate such behavior," He took a breath and a little bit of that expressionless mask peeled away, "but we are not gathered her under usual circumstances."

Tholan simply nodded.

"Let us proceed straight to the matter at hand then-"

"-wait" came the soft voice of Induna, "do you bring any news from Galahandra? Is my father-"

"Slain I am afraid, by the bane of many." Tholan paused as Induna threatened to let grief take hold of her. The queen took a breath and retained composure. There was water in her eyes, but she gave Tholan a queue to continue.

"I assure her majesty it was a good death. He died on the field of battle defending his kingdom. I saw him lead the charge of his Halan'axtra guards myself, but army or not, he was no match for a high dragon. Galahandra survived the bane's attack, but I am afraid that smaller provinces such as Ambersnow and Malarice where lost in the tide of war."

"And the bane of many himself? What has become of him?" Induna asked.

Tholan paused and glanced to the dragon knight stood next to him, he saw that smile drop under the hood. "Also slain your highness. But his acolytes remain."

Induna nodded and sat back in her throne. It would take a mountain of words to explain Galahandra to someone who has never been there. So fortunately Arendelle had Induna to know that the Jagged Plains where the native homelands of dragon kind and that the throne of Galahandra could be claimed by either a human or a dragon through the trial of combat. But she would also know about 'the bane of many' as people called him, she would know how obsessed that high dragon was with power and how he lost his throne centuries ago to Induna's greatest ancestor: Isumord the waking frost.

"Shall we proceed?" King Agdar asked.

Induna nodded with that smile back on her face, "we shall."

"Very well then. Crescentheart, in your letters, you said you understood our daughters…condition."

"We do your majesty. Your daughter is what our people call an ice elementalist, she's a descendant to the waking frost himself so one can only say she has inherited such power for a purpose."

Agdar nodded in understanding, one would guess he had Induna to thank for that. "So far there haven't been any incidents, but do her powers pose any threat?" the king asked.

The knight stepped forward, "Indeed she does. Your daughter is a beacon. Her power screams its presence to all who can sense it. What her magic will inevitable attract will be Arendelle's undoing."

The eyes of Agdar narrowed and the surrounding guardsmen were so very close to bringing their arms to bare. He shifted his gaze to Tholan, "do you have a solution to present to me or have you come to only offer warnings?"

Tholan gave a nod to the knight, the signal to go into his travel pack hidden under his cloak. He retrieved a pair of white gloves, child-sized apparel woven from silk. The knight could hear the whispers of the arcane humming between the fabrics.

"We present to you, your majesty, the means to keep your daughter safe. She must learn to control her powers." Tholan said.

The king leaned forward, "a pair of gloves?"

"They can suppress magic, block your daughter's presence from the world. Until she can control her powers, she must learn to conceal them," Tholan explained.

Agdar's expression sank like a stone in water, "But typically your offer will come with a price."

Tholan nodded and produced a sealed document that he handed to the guard captain. The captain looked at the letter for a moment before marching up to the king and presenting the document with a bow. Agdar sighed as he removed the seal and unfolded the contents.

"A contract your highness, to allow the order of Bladewalkers to operate in Arendelle," Tholan said. An understatement really. The King would soon realize that for his daughter's safety, he would have to agree with funding and constructing the necessary facilities that Tholan's new order of Bladewalkers would need. There was also one other thing that the knight was certain Agdar would never agree to.

"The recruitment of children?" Agdar almost spat, "you expect me to agree to this? You make bold claims that my daughter's powers are a danger when in truth the threat to Arendelle would be this order you are so eager to rebuild."

"The Bladewalkers where banished from Galahandra for a reason," Induna weighed in.

"For the wrong reason," the dragon knight growled.

"Eyes," Tholan muttered. The knight turned his back on the king.

The guards had tensed up again and where muttering among themselves on whether to take action. In that moment however, the coldness was coming on stronger. Raw magic was being used somewhere else in the palace, the knight could taste it in the air. "Your daughter is young, her powers are undeveloped, undisciplined, and volatile," he said over his shoulder.

The king was about to reply and his angry expression didn't suggest he was going to say something nice. But then came a chilling blast that swept through the throne room and a high pitched cry followed after it.

"Mama, Papa!"

The king and queen stood from their thrones, eyes wide with anguish, "Elsa," they both whispered. "We will conclude this business another time," the king said.

Tholan nodded, "I am sure we will."

"And I am sure you will do what is right for your kingdom," the knight added, knowing full well what the king and queen where about to discover as they disappeared into the corridor.

And the rest is history...

It may take a week to get the next chapter up. I really want to push myself for quality rather than quantity this time. like spelling right without a 'w' this time, stuff like that.

See you all in the next one.