[ frost giants are certainly a more challenging foe. this does not deter nor sway klaus; on the contrary, the inconvenience is more invigorating. more importantly, they've breached the palace's walls, and that makes them an actual threat.

specifically to those he loves who can die and are fighting.

he is brutal, a more merciless and vicious edge to his attacks now that his adversaries are a truer risk. as charmed as he's been by asgard's splendor, it is a conjuring of wonderland's design, and he knows this is the catch. he intends to weather if not defeat it, as always.

that is why the frost giants he comes across begin to converge on him, drawn by the bodies he begins to leave in his wake. they are smart, some stronger, but they are not faster, and he uses this to his advantage, breaking legs and ripping hearts out where he can. he's been slashed, bled, bruised, and splintered in equal measure. he loses his sword in the melee. it's then, thrown against a column of the throne room and struggling to get up, that he knows this fight with a particularly brutish giant needs to be at its end.

he moves slow to his knees but quick like lightning to attack — and in that moment he does not see the icy sword encased in the frost giant's fist until it's impaled through his chest. until it rips his rib cage apart. the pain is not quick to come, but he is still when it does. he opens his mouth in a whimper and blood pours out.

he hears the chuckle of the giant, sees the victory in his red eyes. fear and rage stirs in him. fight does too. but that is before the giant wrenches his fist and sword back, places a hand on his chest, and cold sweeps through him. ]