This story will be a two-shot - also a part of a bigger story compilation sharing the common name: Tales Long Forgotten.
A Piercing Cold deals with Lissandra's past, long before she had become the Ice Witch; there will be no pairing, so if you're looking for romance - this is not a story for you. However, if you're here to learn the truth (well, my headcanon) about the three sisters: please feel invited.
Warnings: character death, little bit of swearing
Great thanks to Swords Divine Light (/u/2343391/) for beta-reading this part!
Disclaimer: the characters Lissandra, Avarosa and Serylda and all the places mentioned belong to Riot Games.
There are tales in Valoran told to the children at night, before they escape to the Land of Dreams to live their peaceful fantasies of faraway worlds and creatures no words could ever describe. The tales of brave men and women withstanding the forces of unknown Evil, the tales in which universal Good lives within hearts as pure as ice. There are tales in Valoran speaking of undying love and the force it carries, tales of longing and despair, hopes higher than the monstrous Mount Targon looming over the peaceful valleys beneath it. Some tales speak of desire, a fire burning deep within one heart searching for its significant other, of carnal pleasures every young body dreams to achieve. There are tales of great wars and its heroes, battling Cities, the bloodthirsty, proud Noxus and brave, stoic Demacia. There are tales of Ionia, the peaceful land of the wise, tales of the mighty minds of Piltover, dangers lurking in the depths of the Guardian's Sea. Tales of the Bandle City are full of joy, tales of the Kumungu full of mysteries. The Shadow Isles spread fear amongst the youngsters. There are many tales of Kaladoun, Urtistan and Shurima, a few tales of the Fyrone Flats. There are tales of the Freljord.
One of them speaks of the Ice Witch.
Children don't sleep well after the Ice Witch tale. Their hearts are filled with terror, as are those of adults, even the bravest ones. The Ice Witch knows no mercy. She destroys everything and everybody in her way, wherever she goes, a path of mayhem follows in her footsteps. The Ice Witch is cruel. The Ice Witch with a frozen heart.
Some say the Ice Witch was different once; she had a family. Loving parents, mighty rulers of Freljord, and two sisters, princesses every Freljordian adored. The Ice Witch had a name, once.
Lissandra.
The youngest daughter of king Raganhar and Queen Elda. A girl so sweet and innocent, the crowd's favourite princess. Always looking up to her big sisters; wanting to one day become brave and mighty as them. The agile Avarosa, who could shoot a bird in flight with her eyes closed, her bow a natural extension of her limbs. Serylda, tall and strong, who could kill a grown, wild boar with only her bare hands. But Lissandra had a talent of her own, that only a few spoke of. Her fingers traced with ancient magic, she could spread ice wherever she went, bringing beautiful, ornamental figurines to life. Some say the gardens of Raganhar's palace were full of Lissandra's ice sculptures. Some say she could soothe the Freljord winters.
Some say she brought destruction.
Sweet Lissandra.
Nobody remembers the truth now; all tales merely legends, nobody believes it ever happened. The Ice Witch is meant to scare the naughty children, nothing more. Nobody remembers the times of King Raganhar, the times when Freljord was the mightiest. Nobody remembers the beauty of Queen Elda and her daughters. Legends speak of Avarosa's and Serylda's might, of Lissandra's magic, but nobody remembers that they even lived at all!
Nobody, but me.
Tales Long Forgotten
A Piercing Cold
Part I
"The measure of a man is what he does with power."
- Plato
An arrow pierced right through the snowball, turning it into thousands of tiny ice crystals falling down over Lissandra's head.
"Woah," she heard Serylda's voice from behind her back. The older girl ran past her, the fur of the rim of her cape brushing against Lissandra's cheek. Serylda jumped over a big heap of snow, landing her heavy boots in the cold, white pillow. "That was a sweet shot, Ava!"
Avarosa smiled at her, lowering her beloved yew bow to rest her right hand at the leather clad hip. Her teeth flashed as white as the snow around them, and she ran the other hand through her light blonde hair in a nonchalant way.
"Why thank you, Ylda," she spoke back to her younger sister, mimicking the pompous tone of their mother's aristocratic friends. "That was a nice throw, too. I almost missed it."
She stuck out her tongue, mocking the younger girl.
"Asshole!" Serylda jumped at her, bringing the eldest sister to the ground, straddling her and immediately covering the girl's face with snow. This didn't stop Avarosa from laughing with her mouth wide open, and a rather large amount of the white cold slipped in. Serylda laughed as well, as Avarosa playfully hit her shoulders and neck, trying to get the younger girl off her stomach, but ending up only untying her younger sister's short, blonde braid. "You think you're all that, huh?"
"Of course I'm all that!" she answered, spitting the snow out.
"Well, let's see who's the stronger one, then!" Serylda put both her hands to rest on Avarosa's shoulders, pinning her sister to the ground. The older girl tried to wriggle herself free, but to no avail; Serylda was far stronger than her, having grown much in the last few months. Only twelve years old, she was able to win a fist-fight with teenage boys with not much effort, and Avarosa was rather scarcely muscled herself. There was one thing she didn't need much strength for, though, and she knew exactly where Serylda's weak spots were. Slipping her cold hands underneath the younger girl's fur coat, she started to tickle her sides mercilessly. Serylda shrieked and quickly tried to catch her sister's arms, but they snaked up her back, Avarosa's fingers moving at an inhuman speed, and she couldn't peel them off her ribs anymore. Screaming in defeat, she fell to her side and felt the tickles stop as she lied down beside Avarosa, panting heavily.
"Cheater!" she huffed, looking up at the sky. White clouds covered most of it, and it looked like snow was about to fall any minute now. Winter was the best time of the year in Freljord.
"It's a secret weapon, not a cheat," Avarosa laughed back at her and she mockingly pinched Serylda's side again. The younger girl yelped and jumped up a bit, before throwing a handful of snow at her sister's face. The eldest princess wiped it off and raised herself on her elbows, looking over to where Lissandra sat watching them, clad tightly in her coat, the bangs of her platinum blonde hair peeking from underneath a blue, fur rimmed hood. Avarosa smiled and reached a hand out to her and the youngest sister hurriedly ran over to catch it before getting pulled into a tight embrace.
They lied like this for a while; Lissandra between Avarosa and Serylda, her eyes closed as a warm feeling filled up her whole body despite lying in the cold, white snow.
"Ahem."
The sound came from behind them, and they all opened their eyes in unison to look up at the intruder.
"Your Highness," the servant addressed Avarosa, bowing down deeply as the girl struggled to get back on her feet. "His Majesty the King has returned and demands his daughters' presence at the throne room."
"Father!" Serylda sprang back on her legs, pulling Lissandra along with her and they brushed past Avarosa, running towards the castle. The eldest sister shook her head in disbelief, smiling gently.
"Thank you, Brynjarr," she spoke to the servant, who bowed down even lower. She picked up her bow and arrows before she started to gracefully stroll towards the castle. As soon as she decided the man could not see her anymore, she broke into a run, happy to see her father after he'd been away for a few months.
Brynjarr only smiled to himself as he watched the princess from afar.
oOOo
That was the fateful day. A day I will never forget, even though I tried to erase it from my memory thousands of times. The day I learned true power, even if I was too young to apprehend it.
oOOo
"Father."
Avarosa stood in the doorway of the throne room, panting heavily, her cheeks rosy and the long, blonde hair messy. She absent-mindedly tried to smooth them with her wet hands, resulting only in messing them up even further. Her father stood in front of his throne, holding Lissandra up with his right arm and hugging Serylda with the left. The throne room was lit dimly with only the candles and torches, the crimson curtains of the great windows shut for whatever reason.
Raganhar was a big, muscular man. His long, chestnut hair was loose from the usual braid he kept it in, and so was his beard. The scars on his face were highlighted by the candlelight, and Avarosa could swear there were a few more than the last time she saw him. Not trying to act sophisticated anymore, she ran over to him and almost jumped into his arms, hugging him and Lissandra, her hand resting on Serylda's head.
"We missed you so badly," she said, her words muffled as she snuggled her face into the fur of his collar.
"It was nowhere near as much as I missed you." He planted a kiss to the top of his eldest daughter's head, and did the same to the two other girls. He then let go of Avarosa and Serylda, and put Lissandra down on the floor. She quickly caught Avarosa's hand, suddenly feeling very lonely after the big family hug. Raganhar looked at his daughters closely. "Did you behave well? Caused your mother as little problems as possible?"
"They were angels," came the quiet voice of their mother as she descended down the stairs, clad in a purple gown with her blonde hair tied up in an intricate updo. She almost ran the entire throne room to her husband, falling into his embrace and kissing him fiercely. Breaking apart, she looked him deeply in the eyes, before she whispered something the girls couldn't hear, a tear running down her cheek.
"I'm home now," was their father's answer to whatever Elda had said. He then looked over at the girls, still holding his wife close. "And I brought something for my angels."
He let go of their mother and went over to the pile of chests and trunks he brought with him from his journey. He picked up a particularly big and ornamented one, adorned with precious stones and gold finishing. He stood the chest before the girls and they stared at it, curious. The King then crouched in front of it, opening a rather complicated looking lock that required no key, but a few movements the girls couldn't see.
The lid opened and a strange feeling filled Lissandra's heart; she tightened her grip on Avarosa's hand, feeling the older girl squeezing it back reassuringly.
"Avarosa," their father spoke, and the eldest princess straightened at the sound of her name. Raganhar turned around, holding what looked like a piece of ice. They all gasped when they realised it was carved like a bow, and even had a bowstring attached to it. Their father stepped forward, holding the bow in his extended hands and looking straight at Avarosa, who looked progressively more nervous with each passing second. They had seen ice before; they had even seen ice sculptures before. But this... this was somehow different. The bow made contact with Raganhar's warm hands, but it didn't melt and it seemed to glisten in the oddest of ways in the dim candlelight. The eldest princess let go of Lissandra's hand to take the strange object from her father. Her eyes grew even wider than before as she realised the ice wasn't cold; it was only slightly cool and sent strange vibrations through her arms.
"Is this ice?" she gasped out finally, her eyes glued to the weapon. It was similar to her favourite yew bow, though slightly lighter and definitely more decorated, but it fit her hand perfectly.
"It is," their father answered quietly, closing his massive hand over her smaller one, holding the bow. "And it is not. This is True Ice, my dear, an ice that never melts. It possesses great power, an essence of the very heart of the mountain it comes from. Durable and nearly impossible to destroy, the True Ice has spent an eternity beneath the surface of the Silver Summit, far North from here. What else could I bring my most precious girls if not the most precious treasure of our country?"
Avarosa looked hesitantly at the bow in her hands as her father got an equally ornamented leather quiver out of the chest and handed her an arrow with a head of True Ice as well.
"Go on, try it," he urged her. "Try aiming at the column."
The girl obediently took the arrow from his hand and placed it in the carved arrow rest. She drew the bowstring effortlessly, aiming at the massive stone column sixty feet away. She let fly. The arrow whistled through the air so quickly it almost seemed to disappear. Then it lodged itself into the stone column with a loud thud of the breaking marble.
"Wow," escaped Serylda's lips as Avarosa stared dumbly at the wild goose feather fletching protruding out of the column. Their mother inhaled sharply, but Raganhar looked proudly at his daughter, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and leaning down to her.
"The arrows are enchanted as well," he muttered before straightening back up and returning to the chest. Avarosa quickly ran over to the column to retrieve the arrow, while Elda was giving her husband's back an angry stare.
"Ah, here it is," he said after a while of rummaing through the chest, turning around to his daughters, who were busy inspecting Avarosa's bow now. "Serylda, come here. Your mother wrote me letters of your sudden growth these months. This should do the trick."
The middle daughter was immediately at his side, looking curiously at the weapon in his hand. It had a steel handle covered with black leather, and a massive chain attached to it. At the other end of the chain was a large, carved crystal of the blueish, glowing True Ice. Serylda took the handle from him, surprised at the great weight of the weapon.
"I've never fought with something like this, Father," she said, uncertainty evident in her voice.
"This is a flail," he explained, taking her hand in his and swinging the weapon about. The chain clicked as the True Ice head hit the marble floor, making a small dent. "It will suit you, darling, this I am sure of. You will get used to it in no time."
Leaving Serylda to play with the flail, Raganhar looked over at Lissandra, who was sitting in her mother's lap on Elda's throne now. Truth be told, the youngest girl didn't expect anything; she wasn't a good archer like Avarosa, nor was she as strong and brave as Serylda. She was just happy with her father finally coming back home.
"I have something for you as well, Lissandra," he said softly as he approached them, kneeling in front of his wife's throne. From a pocket on his chest he took out a small object; a delicate, silver chain with a pendant the size and shape of a large hazelnut. It had elaborate silver adornments twisted in floral patterns, but the heart was clearly made of the same thing as Avarosa's bow and Serylda's flail. Lissandra watched the glowing ice crystal mesmerized, seeing the light of the candles and torches drown in it, turning into that strange, blue glimmer. She tentatively reached her hand out to touch it, her breath caught in her chest as she felt the tingling sensation in her fingers.
"It's beautiful," she managed to get out in a voice barely above a whisper.
"It is," Raganhar agreed, smiling brightly at his youngest daughter's approval. Lissandra was usually really shy and never one to talk much. He feared he might disappoint her with this gift, but from her expression he knew she was utterly in love with the pendant. "But this isn't just a piece of jewelry. There is great power in this little crystal, Lissy. It comes from deep within the Silver Summit, deeper than the pieces your sisters' weapons are made of. It may seem fragile now, but with time, you will learn to use it to your will."
He clasped the necklace around his daughter's neck, kissing her forehead affectionately.
"Thank you, Father."
A strange warmth spread from the ice crystal into Lissandra's chest.
oOOo
I was only ten years old then; never in my life before that day have I encountered something as mighty. The feeling of pure power I had by merely looking at the pendant was incredibly unfamiliar from the weakness I grew used to.
And it never occurred to me that power could be bad.
oOOo
Wrath.
Another icy sculpture of a reindeer exploded into a million of tiny shards.
Her cape lay in the snow, discarded and forgotten, as Lissandra made her way through the garden. Wherever she went, the evergreens turned white, frosted and covered with ice, and then they collapsed and died. The garden was completely silent, save for the girl's sorrowful screams. Even the wind seemed afraid of her.
"No!" she bellowed and she tossed an icicle at a nearby stone wall, piercing right through it. The stones fell apart into a ruin, and soon got covered with a thin layer of frost. Lissandra fell to the ground, holding her face in her hands, the hot tears on her cheeks turning into shining crystals of ice.
"Lissandra!" A voice came to her from a distance, but she wasn't sure whether she actually heard it. The world around her was frozen, unmoving. She felt like she was losing her grip on reality.
"Lissandra!" Another shout, louder this time and now she was certain the voice was real. She struggled to get back on her feet, tangling herself in the long gown and growling in anger that was building up inside her guts. She had to run away; she couldn't bear to face her right now.
She made a few shaky steps before falling down again, tripping over a loose stone in the alley. She smashed her fists to the ground and hot tears dripped on them, turning into ice upon touching her skin. The thought of how pathetic she must look right now fueled her rage further, sending her over any limit she had ever set in her life. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth in a feeble attempt to keep her temper.
"Lissandra." Avarosa was right behind her now, and this time her voice broke upon uttering her sister's name. She stopped a few feet away from the younger girl, as if afraid to approach her. "Lissy, listen to me—"
"No!"
The pavement a few feet to Lissandra's left cracked as a trail of ice crept over it, breaking the stones to pieces. The frost continued further, towards the younger girl, up the fists curled against the cold path, up Lissandra's arms. She opened her eyes and stared at them in terror, not even aware of the cold on her skin.
"Lissy—"
"Stay back!" she screamed as Avarosa's hand brushed her shoulder, trying in vain to hide her frozen arms. The frightened gasp escaping her older sister's lips indicated just how much she failed.
"Stay away from me!"
She expected Avarosa to run away. To close the doors to the castle and never let her in again. She lost control; she had underestimated the power of the crystal. In her mind's eye she could already see the villagers building up a pyre. Burn the witch.
An animalistic howl escaped her sore throat as she covered her face with her frozen hands, nails digging into the sensitive skin of her temples and dragging, deep enough to draw blood that froze on her cheeks. The pain numbed her senses, but her mind kept on rushing, fighting against something she just realized was there, and was driving her crazy.
"Just leave me ALONE!"
A pair of slender, but extremely strong arms closed around her chest and an unexpected warmth pressed itself to Lissandra's back. It was shaking; Avarosa was crying, tears dripping on top of the younger girl's head.
"I'm not leaving you," she heard the muffled words being spoken into her hair and felt her heart break. "I'm here, Lissandra. I want to help you. Just talk to me."
The last word turned into a quiet sob and soft, trembling, hot lips pressed just behind Lissandra's right ear. The breath she didn't realize she was holding finally left her throat and she cried, out loud, screaming at the top of her lungs as Avarosa held her, cradling her back and forth just as she used to so many years ago, when they were still small kids and Lissandra, often bothered with nightmares, would seek comfort in her older sister's embrace.
She couldn't find it now; there was something inside her that wouldn't let go, that couldn't accept Avarosa so close to her. She felt the frost moving up her neck now until it reached the place where Avarosa's cheek pressed against her own. She heard a hiss as the older girl felt the cold against her skin, but she didn't move away.
"You are not alone," she whispered, so close to her that even the wind that seemed to finally wake from the stillness it was in just a second ago couldn't drown the words out. "I don't know what to do, either. I can't believe what happened, I'm not even sure if it happened. I wish it was all just a bad dream and I'm going to wake up in my bed, terrified but safe."
A gentle hand stroked Lissandra's hair and the younger girl allowed herself to rest against Avarosa's warm body.
"But I know it's not," the girl continued and even though she couldn't see her, Lissandra could clearly imagine her expression. Teal eyes glistening with tears, pale lips slightly parted and contorted in a painful scowl. Skin white as the snow around them.
Father would always say Avarosa was beautiful. That every young man could wish to have a wife as gorgeous as her. Lissandra put a hand to her mouth, but not nearly fast enough to stop the pitiful whimper.
"H-he was supposed to c-c-come back," she uttered finally, stuttering as she fought to force the air into her lungs and breathe. Avarosa nodded silently against her head. "H-he promised!".
"I know," she moved just a couple of inches to be able to see the younger girl's face, but Lissandra held on to her arms with a steel grip, afraid to be left alone now. Avarosa gave her the faintest of sad smiles. "He always kept his promises."
Lissandra whined something unintelligibly, unable to speak coherently anymore.
"Mother is devastated," Avarosa said, the hurt tone breaking through her whisper. "Serylda is looking for you in the forest. We set off as soon as we realized you ran away. I had this feeling..."
She trailed off, as if searching for something.
"I had this feeling you'd be here; you both loved this garden so much." A quiet sob, Lissandra wasn't sure if it was Avarosa's or hers. "He cherished every sculpture you made."
"I d-destroyed them."
Avarosa reached for the younger girl's hand, intertwining their fingers. Snowflakes fell on the ground around them, but neither one of them seemed to notice.
oOOo
We didn't know how to live on; the death of our Father affected us all. As Avarosa said, Mother was devastated. A ruin of the woman she once used to be. She chose not to speak to us, almost as if we weren't there at all.
In a way, she left us that day as well.
We never spoke of what happened in the garden; in the evening, Serylda greeted us as if we'd only gone out on a short walk. We tried not to acknowledge what happened at all. Father was gone, but none of us wanted to believe it. At the funeral, we stood close to the pyre. I could almost feel my skin burning as the fire devoured the last remnants of Raganhar III of Freljord. He left no male offspring behind and Mother was a wreck of a woman, not able to brush her hair properly, let alone rule our people.
Avarosa was eighteen then. She took over my Father's responsibilities, suddenly becoming an adult nobody saw in her before. She was only three years older than Serylda, five than me, but suddenly our sister became somebody closest to a parent. A guardian. A King, even though officially she wasn't even a Queen. Avarosa possessed power she never had before.
She came to love it.
oOOo
"Queen Elda," the servant repeated, knocking gently on their mother's bedroom door. No answer came from the other side. "Queen Elda, the messengers from the Demacian Empire are waiting in the throne room. Your presence is—"
"I will take care of it."
Avarosa strode through the corridor dressed in a fine, light-weight gilded chestplate over a deep teal tunic and leather pants, her shoulders adorned with a purple, fur-rimmed cape that contrasted perfectly with her long, light blonde hair. She had just returned from a hunt in the forest with Serylda, who followed closely in her sister's tracks, her beloved flail secured at a leather belt at her hips. She had a smirk on, sensing the fun they were going to go through. As of late, she wouldn't leave Avarosa's side, acting as the eldest princess' personal guard.
"Your Highness, I fear it is a case of utmost importance—"
"That is exactly why I should take care of this, Brynjarr," she answered sternly, looking the elderly man straight in his eyes. He kept a straight face, though his forehead became glistened with sweat. Avarosa advanced to him. "Is this about the Kaladoun case?"
"Yes," he answered shortly and cleared his throat. "Yes, Your Highness. The messengers are here on behalf of Falrond II of house Crownguard, the head of exterritorial politics in the Demacian Empire. They hold papers signed by the Emperor—"
"I know," she interrupted. "I believe I will have to deal with that on behalf of my sick mother."
She cast a quick glance at the door, but no sound came from the other side. Serylda came up to her older sister, towering over the girl and the man standing before them. She grew even taller in the past few years.
"Brynjarr," she spoke in a deep, low voice, forcing the servant to look up at her. "Announce to the Demacians our mother is not able to come down and discuss the matters with them. Tell them to address Avarosa with highest respects."
"Don't overdo it, though," the eldest princess added nonchalantly as the man bowed deeply. "After all, I'm not the Queen, Serylda."
Brynjarr made sure to walk as fast as possible without actually running as he hurried down the corridor and the flight of stairs leading straight to the throne room. However, he did managed to catch the last words uttered from the beautiful princess' lips, even though they were quiet and probably meant for her sister's ears only. They echoed through the old man's head.
"Not yet."
oOOo
"Mother?"
Lissandra tried to keep her voice as quiet as possible, not really sure what she expected to find in the room. The crimson shades were tightly tied together and the air felt heavy in her lungs as she inhaled the scent of her mother's chamber. It smelled like dust and something she couldn't quite put, but was familiar with. In the dim, red-tinted light she could recognize the figure of the Queen lying in her enormous bed, drowned in comfy pillows and cushions. It was well past noon.
"Are you awake?" Lissandra asked, approaching the chest at the foot of the bed on her toes. The figure didn't move nor did she answer in any other way. It was like talking to a sculpture. With a sigh, the girl sat slowly at the very edge of the soft mattress and gently touched her mother's hand. She frowned upon feeling skin colder than her own and glanced up. Queen Elda wasn't looking at her, but still the woman's eyes were open. Glued to the wall on her left.
"I know you hear me," she started, grabbing the cold fingers in what she knew was a pointless attempt at drawing her mother's attention. Lissandra gulped; she was sure of what she wanted to say, but she didn't know whether the words would come out right. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped at them angrily, gritting her teeth together.
"Avarosa is downstairs now," she continued in a squeaky, trembling voice, pointing at the door. Her hand shook. "Fulfilling a duty, but it's supposed to be yours, Mother."
No answer.
"I know—" she stopped, searching for the right words. The bear skin on her mother's floor looked more interesting than anything in the world now. Lissandra shook her head, hitting her own face with the tip of her blonde braid. "I know you're not... feeling right. I can understand that, at least I'm honestly trying to. Avarosa and Serylda, they— uh, they decided it would be best to leave you alone. That you'd get over it with time."
She squeezed the hand hard enough to consider it painful, but the Queen's face remained unchanged.
"But time has passed and you didn't," her voice broke at the end, turning into a high pitched squeak. She bit on her lower lip to stop the trembling. "I— I thought they would know what to do and they do. Avarosa rules Freljord now on her own, but, Mother— I mean, Freljord is not falling apart but we are, it has been over a year now, we're losing you... we've lost you, Mother."
The words she'd so carefully chosen in her mind made no sense when she spoke them.
"He is gone," she whispered. The lump in her throat made it hard to talk. "Nothing will bring him back and this— y-you have to stop it. They don't want to force you, but I need to."
She could hear the clock ticking down the hall. An involuntary whimper left her mouth and she brought her right hand up to clasp over her lips. She removed it after a second to place it on her mother's shoulder.
"I need you, Mother."
Tears splashed on the purple, velvet duvet covering her mother's body. Lissandra felt her body shake with a mix of sorrow and rage as her fingernails dug through the silk nightgown into her mother's cold skin. She could hear the breath hitch in the older woman's throat, but otherwise she received no response. In a split second her other hand was at her mother's chin, forcing her to turn in her youngest daughter's direction.
"Look at me!" she shouted, removing her right hand from her mother's shoulder to cup her face, shaking the woman's head. Somewhere in between the desperate attempts to gain attention she realised she was now straddling the Queen and tears were streaming down her face like steamy waterfalls. Her mother's eyes remained dead, focused on something beyond Lissandra, as if she wasn't even there.
"LOOK AT ME!"
A yell. Hot, stinging feeling in her hand as she slapped the porcelain cheek and the contrasting cold of the manifest of her rage. She grabbed the front of her mother's nightgown and it turned into ice but she didn't notice as it crept up, higher, reaching the woman's neck. Lissandra's pendant dangled in front of her mother's face as an unintelligible, guttural sound escaped the woman's lips.
"LISSA!"
A pair of strong arms circled around her waist, she was pulled up in the air forcefully, air pushed out of her lungs and pain flooding her brain as she could swear she heard her ribs crack. She was thrown to the ground and landed on the soft bearskin, gasping in surprise as she felt her elbow contact with the wooden floor of her mother's bedroom. Serylda was standing above her with a mix of anger and surprise written all over the older girl's face.
"What the hell are you doing, Lissandra?" she growled, switching focus between her younger sister and the Queen. The latter was lying on the bed panting, her nightgown still covered with ice, sheets dampened from various fluids Lissandra didn't want to think about. She was staring at the ceiling now with eyes and mouth wide open, as if she had just noticed something incredible in one of the spiders' webs on the chandelier. She didn't seem to acknowledge her daughters any more than a few minutes ago. Serylda made a move to touch her, but froze with her hand inches above their mother's frost covered face. She turned an enraged glare at Lissandra.
The younger girl was standing up shakily, mumbling incoherent words as Serylda approached her slowly, hands balled into fists at either side of her leather clad hips.
"Just what—" she started through gritted teeth, noticing her younger sister flinching at the sound of her raspy voice. "Just what do you think would have happened if I didn't come in here?"
"I don't kno—"
"THEN THINK OF IT!" she yelled and Lissandra shrank against the wall she had just hit with her back. She could swear the candles in the chandelier shook from the force in her sister's voice. Gulping loudly, she tried to look Serylda in the face as the older girl hunched above her, hands against the wall on either side of Lissandra's head. "Go on, Lissa, tell me."
"I— I— ah— She—"
"Dead," Serylda finished the sentence for her, cutting it as short as possible. Lissandra felt the tears coming to her eyes again as she switched her attention to their mother lying on the bed, motionless but breathing and alive. A weird mix of a gasp and whimper escaped the younger princess' mouth and she lunged at her older sister, surprising her. She wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist tightly, burying her face in Serylda's fur covered chest.
"I'm sorry!" she shouted, though the dense bear fur muted it so much Serylda had to bend to listen to her. She circled her own arms awkwardly around Lissandra's shoulders. "I didn't know— I didn't even think about it, Serylda, I would never... oh gods, I don't know what— I didn't want to hurt her!"
They stood like this for a couple of minutes as Serylda was trying to think of what to say. She was mad, but she wasn't entirely sure whether she was actually mad at Lissandra.
"The crystal," she said finally, stroking the younger girl's hair. "It's speaking through you. The True Ice, Lissa. It has a great power, far greater than these weak bodies of ours. I can feel it in my weapon, but... it's so close to your heart."
Lissandra didn't answer, but her quiet sobs carried on as they were locked in the awkward embrace.
"You should go."
Serylda pushed her away gently, and then steered the girl towards the door. She obliged wordlessly, keeping her eyes cast on the floor.
The cold necklace felt incredibly hot against her skin.
oOOo
The Kaladoun case was sorted by the end of the spring that year; so was the case of our mother.
She fell sick a week after that incident. She would cough up blood and faint from the fever, but she still wouldn't notice Serylda and Avarosa trying to help her. She would shy away from me, though, not that I made the best effort to comfort her. I was scared out of my sane mind whenever I was left alone with her. The presence I felt then, the presence I never discussed with my sisters, the very presence I still knew was hidden somewhere deep in my heart would keep me awake for long hours, then haunt me in my restless daydreams. This feeling kept me away from my mother, but I blamed it all on sorrow. I couldn't forgive myself for what happened; I knew I was responsible for her death.
Serylda was scared, not of me, but for me. Ever since the happening she would constantly keep on casting glances at me when she thought I didn't see her. She cared for me more than either of us thought she did, but I didn't realize it back then.
She wanted to keep what happened in our mother's bedroom a secret from Avarosa; I had to fight myself not to tell her.
It was a month after the funeral that I couldn't stand it anymore.
oOOo
"May I come in?"
The gentle knock on the door accompanied by her sister's soft voice stopped Avarosa's pacing. She looked at the door in confusion, her thoughts still occupied with the blood freezing news she had received earlier that day. Another knock, this time even quieter, as if the girl on the other side didn't actually want her to answer.
"Avarosa?"
The eldest princess rushed to the door and swung it open just as Lissandra was about to retreat into her own bedroom. The older girl looked at her, taking in her puzzled expression and then wordlessly pulled her inside. She closed the door behind her, turning the key in the lock.
"Why are you still awake, Lissy?" It was well past midnight by now and Avarosa would expect the younger girl to be safe and asleep in her bed. Instead, she was standing there before her, barefoot on the cold wooden floor, fidgeting uncomfortably with the rim of her light blue sleeping gown. Her long, blonde hair was down from its usual braid, falling past the girl's shoulders like a platinum coat. Avarosa moved closer to place a hand on her cheek, frowning upon the sudden, chilly dampness of her skin. "Is something bothering you?"
"I—" she started, diverting her gaze from Avarosa's and turning her head away to avoid contact with the older girl's incredibly warm hand. "I can't deal with it anymore."
The words were so quiet Avarosa wasn't sure she'd actually heard them; Lissandra was acting more shy than ever and it made her slightly irritated. She had important things to return to, that meant no time for silly games with her sister right now. She sighed.
"What can't you deal with?" The slight irritation was audible in her voice, but Lissandra didn't seem to notice it.
"I promised Serylda I wouldn't tell you," she mumbled, unconsciously grasping the ice crystal hanging on her neck, remembering the fear and disgust in her older sister's eyes. Avarosa's brows furrowed at that; Serylda would usually just brag about things rather than keep secrets from her and just the mention of it made the eldest princess actually want to hear what Lissandra was about to say. She moved to sit on her bed and padded the space at her right and a refreshing breeze flowed through her blonde hair from the open window, sending shivers down her spine. Lissandra sat down beside her, biting on her lower lip.
"Lissy."
Avarosa's voice was soft now, but there was an urge in it as well. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lissandra's ear and the younger girl didn't move away this time. The touch was brief, but still warm and cozy enough for her to lean into Avarosa's hand, sighing wearily. Her own hands were shaking as she put them together in her lap.
"I had an outbreak."
The calmness in her voice surprised her and Avarosa didn't say anything to avoid interrupting. It was a rare occasion that Lissandra just got to the point.
"Like that one in the garden."
A hand separated Lissandra's and fingers intertwined themselves with hers.
"I—" the voice got stuck in her throat again like a hiccup, and she took a sharp intake of breath. "I attacked Mother. A month before— before she—"
Avarosa's arms were around her shoulders in a flash, Lissandra's vision obscured by locks of blonde hair getting into her eyes and open mouth as a pitiful cry escaped her lips. Her body went stiff; she didn't expect Avarosa to react this way. She anticipated something along the lines of Serylda's reaction. This... this was empathy. Avarosa held her close, gently patting the back of her head as Lissandra sank into her arms, resting her chin on the older girl's shoulder.
"You didn't do it," Avarosa whispered into her hair, answering the unposed question and resulting in more tears staining the sleeve of her shirt. "You didn't do it, Lissy, don't even think about it. It was the sickness that did."
"But I—" she whimpered, grasping tightly at the soft fabric covering Avarosa's chest. She put one hand over the older girl's heart. "My ice... It covered everything. Right here—"
"Lissy, it wasn't your ice." Something in that sentence made Avarosa cringe, but she discarded the thought. She caught the hand pressing to her chest in her own, squeezing the cold fingers tightly. "Mother was sick long before that and there was nothing any of us could possibly do. If anything, you just scared her like you scared me back then in the garden."
The image of their Mother's indifferent face entered Lissandra's mind and she couldn't help but dig her nails in Avarosa's shirt, desperately trying to keep her close. She couldn't imagine losing her the way their Mother went.
"I'm a m-monster."
"No, you're not," she answered softly as she rearranged their position so now Lissandra was almost sitting in her lap. She started to cradle her back and forth again, it always seemed to work to calm her down. "A lot has happened in the past year, Lissy, too much for a girl your age to handle. And this... this power the crystal on your neck holds, it's overwhelming. You break sometimes; but I'll always be there to fix you. I promise."
Silence. And warmth. Immense warmth coursing through Lissandra's body, starting from the skin on her forehead where Avarosa's chin rested, through blood pulsating in her veins and straight to her heart. She nuzzled her face into the older girl's neck and just stayed like that for what seemed like hours, mind completely blank, all thoughts gone from her head save for one.
"I'm so sorry, Ava."
"I know. It's alright, Sweetheart; everything's alright."
oOOo
Avarosa couldn't sleep that night, anyway. I learned about it through the course of the following weeks.
It was the hottest summer of my life - and I have lived long enough to testify it could have been the hottest summer of this millenium. The everlasting glaciers of the North started to melt and rivers overflowed, flooding every village on their way. The number of casualties was growing with each passing day, and the fate of our nation was in danger.
Still, Freljord had it easier than most.
That night Avarosa received word of the situation in Shurima; the Golden City, the city of splendor and wealth, the city where precious metals and stones were underlined with the path of blood of the slaves, the city of a never-ending feast of the rich. They were asking for help. All around Valoran, the crops suffered from the heat; but it was Shurima, the only green city of the desert and its surrounding vast fields that were damaged the most.
Some said it was inevitable; that the rich people of Shurima were responsible for the fate that touched them. The gods were displeased with their greed and pride and brought the sands and heat to swallow the city. To once and for all purge these lands of the sins of mankind.
Shurima called for help we couldn't give, not from the far North. Shurima called for help it didn't receive. Demacia stood blind to their calls; their trading contract had been over months before that, as Shurima asked and craved for far more than Demacia could offer, far more than the goods of the Golden City were really worth. The city of Noxus was too young and weak to do anything; it had to take care of internal affairs before even thinking of any of the other cities. The Fyrone Flats were deserted; a plague had taken a few thousands of Fyronian lives years before. Ionia was too far away, stranded on an island; Rakkor was close enough, but they didn't care for the rich bastards. Piltover and Zaun didn't even exist.
But despite all the prophecies, all the predictions of the Stargazers, all the calls for help... we still weren't ready for what happened.
The storm everyone prayed for so vividly came to the Golden City. Instead of rain, it carried on dust that choked the animals and people, the desert surrounding the city coming for what was rightfully its.
In a matter of hours, Shurima was buried beneath the sand.
No signs of the city broke the peaceful, golden surface of the desert. The shallow basin so thoughtlessly adapted for the city had been filled completely with what various legends would call the Wrath of Gods later on. It became the grave of over fifty thousand People and countless legions of their slaves.
The storm surfaced the ruins of another, ancient civilization.
oOOo
"Pyramids," Serylda said, gulping down a mouthful of her mashed potatoes and roast as the three of them sat in the dining room, enjoying the warmth radiating from the grand fireplace. Autumn came as a rather chilly contrast to the summer; and even though Freljord had suffered greatly from all the floods and an unknown pestilence that fed off the damp and rotten bodies, everything seemed to calm down when the Autumn came. Avarosa was smiling gently, her eyes shifting from one sister to the other. Lissandra was picking at her food with a grimace, a rather striking contrast to the tallest blonde. "That's what the Wisemen are calling it now. I've heard rumors they were tombs of the ancient rulers of Shurima, at least some old and apparently important guy claims so, and they are full of the dearest belongings... that is, you know, some serious amounts of gold, jewels, ivory, cats—"
"Cats?" Lissandra interrupted her in a bewildered tone as she dropped the fork she was holding. Avarosa choked on her wine.
"Well, cat mummies, to be exact," Serylda answered matter-of-factly. "Apparently those ancient guys loved cats very much. It's all drawn on the murals."
Lissandra and Avarosa exchanged uncertain looks.
"Where did you learn that?" the eldest princess asked, setting down her cup before another one of Serylda's revelations would make her spill the contents on the white tablecloth. If anything, Avarosa wouldn't let good wine go to waste.
"Various sources. The old man from the library—"
Avarosa snorted, though it sounded more like a dog snarling.
"He's demented, Ylda. He spends all his time with the books and has gone crazy from the dust."
"But, still, he knows quite a lot about Shurima, he's been there a couple of times—"
"And you really believed in the mummified cats? Surely you're not that stupid."
Serylda frowned and looked at her older sister, setting the knife and fork she had been holding down. There was something off in Avarosa's voice; something she had never heard aimed at her. It wasn't the playful mockery they had going between them as children. The middle princess actually felt the insult hidden in Avarosa's words.
And she was never one to sit down and stay quiet.
She stood up so abruptly she threw the table back a bit, startling Lissandra sitting on the other side to the point of the girl almost falling out of her chair. Serylda didn't pay attention to her; she casted an enraged look at Avarosa before storming out of the room, leaving only a plate of half-eaten dinner behind.
Lissandra stared at the open door her sister just went through in disbelief. She had seen Serylda angry before, quite a lot of times actually, but her rage was never aimed towards Avarosa. Just as she opened her mouth to comment on that, she heard a quiet chuckle coming from the older girl.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked her, the bewilderment clearly audible in her voice. Had something gone wrong between her sisters that she didn't notice? Sure, they were fighting constantly, but it was only for competition, not... not this. Avarosa burst out with a full-blown odd kind of laughter at that, sending a frightened shiver down Lissandra's spine.
What the bloody hell was going on?
"Avarosa?"
"She got worked up quite easily, don't you think?" she said as she started swirling the wine around in her cup, a playful smirk on her mouth, but at least she stopped with the laughter. Lissandra realised she had been leaning back from the older girl, and she quickly readjusted her position, not wanting Avarosa to notice it for the fear of another... whatever it was. The eldest princess wasn't looking at her, though. She was staring off into space over Lissandra's head, but her eyes were practically closed now. There was something dangerous gleaming in the eldest princess' teal irises.
"Why— Avarosa, what is going on with the two of you?" Lissandra's voice was high-pitched with the fear she didn't even realise was gripping at her throat. "You're scaring me."
Suddenly, Avarosa's face changed again. The smug look she had on just a second ago was replaced with a concerned one and her eyes focused on Lissandra's face at last.
"I'm sorry, Lissy," she said slowly, as if thinking every word through. Lissandra just stared back at her, still bewildered. Avarosa's eyes widened for a second and her brows furrowed as she moved closer to the table, bending over her plate to reach for Lissandra's hand. The younger girl flinched at the touch, but she didn't move away; she let the princess' fingers intertwine with her own. "I truly am, Lissandra, listen to me. I don't know why I reacted this way nor why did Serylda. I'm sorry you had to see us like this."
The younger girl didn't say anything, she just stared right back into Avarosa's teal eyes.
"Please, Lissy, forgive me."
Lissandra's face softened, as she returned the squeeze to Avarosa's hand. The older girl's expression was honest; as honest as she'd ever seen it. She could read the embarrassment with ease, there was an apology to it as well. And... fright. Just a flicker of it in Avarosa's eyes, but Lissandra could swear she saw it, if only for a split second.
oOOo
This was like watching my parents quarreling all over again.
I didn't know what caused them to act like this; none of us knew, actually. Both my sisters avoided each other for several days after that, even though to me, their argument was a meaningless one. Nobody ever argues about stupid mummified cats, I just couldn't settle for that.
A week passed before they sat down to eat together again. It was agonizing to look at them, to see the two women I loved the most in the whole world not being able to stand each other's presence. I didn't know how much longer I could stand it; I was feeling another breakdown nearing with each passing day.
They reconciled as suddenly as they fell apart; all it took was for Serylda to admit that she had been mistaken. There were no mummified cats in the Shurima. All was well, after that.
But now, I have lived enough to know.
We both took everything Avarosa said for granted and trusted every word that escaped those beautiful lips. It never occurred to me Serylda could be the one that was right.
Oh, Serylda. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you.
There were at least two major things I could credit you for; one being the damned case of the mummified cats. They discovered them a few tens of years after the last time we saw each other.
And you were right about Avarosa.
You were right to avoid her.
oOOo
"Your Highness, the Council has an important announcement."
Avarosa looked up from the piece of parchment she was holding, her gaze landed on the old, scarred, but still soft and friendly face of Brynjarr. She sighed, but offered the elderly man a smile; after all, he had been the most loyal servant of their house for years now. The princesses could only hope there were a few more ahead of him.
"Very well, Brynjarr. Please tell them I will meet them in the Council Chamber in five minutes."
The man excused himself with a bow before leaving. As he closed the door behind himself, Avarosa's smile faded; she looked over to where Lissandra sat in an armchair beside the fireplace, reading a heavy tome she got from the library that morning.
"What do they want now?" the older girl mused, setting down the letter she had received from the Noxian diplomats. The City-state of Noxus was growing quickly, and their demands were proving to be more than Freljord could meet. A war was nearing on the horizon; Avarosa could only hope that wasn't what the Council wanted to discuss.
"I really wish I could tell you," came the quiet answer as Lissandra's eyes never even left the pages of the book. Avarosa walked up to her and bent over the chair's backrest, reading the name of the chapter the book was open on.
"You're reading children's tales?" she asked in a surprised voice. She looked down at the girl and noticed her gentle smile; the True Ice crystal was resting on her appropriately exposed chest. Lissandra was maturing, and even though Avarosa would rather have her as a little girl forever, she couldn't help the pride she felt at what a beautiful woman her sister was becoming. She smiled as well, running her hands down the younger girl's long, platinum hair. "Aren't you a little too old for that, Lissy?"
"Somebody once told me there are things to be learned in every fairytale."
"Oh, really?" she asked in mock surprise as she bent further over the chair, until her own blond hair obscured her sister's vision. "Who could that be?"
Lissandra grinned at her, closing the book in her lap.
"Someone really wise."
"You are flattering me, Lissandra," she straightened back up, placing a soft kiss to the crown of Lissandra's head. "I'm glad you're listening to what I'm saying."
"I always am."
The doors to the chamber opened and Serylda strode in, with face reddened from the cold outside and there were happy sparks visible in her eyes. She stopped for a second, looking at the weird position her sisters were in.
"I hope I'm not interrupting you two," she said in her loud, husky voice, brushing the snow from her shoulders away. Two sets of grins answered as she raised a brow at them. She turned her eyes straight at Avarosa as she addressed the older girl. "The supplies have arrived. They say it's almost half a ton this time."
"Why, that's great!" Avarosa almost jumped up like a little girl as she turned towards the middle sister. One glance at the clock hanging on the wall made her scowl, though.
"It has been over five minutes already," Lissandra reminded her, holding back a snicker as Avarosa slumped her shoulders in defeat.
"I guess you're right, Lissy," she sighed. Serylda gave a questioning look.
"Council meeting?" she asked, motioning to the door as if the whole Council was waiting there. Avarosa only nodded her head with the most dramatic expression on. Serylda laughed. "I saw them gathering in the corridor. I'm glad it's you dealing with them, not me."
Avarosa punched the taller girl as she passed her, only resulting in another laughter fit from the younger princess. With a flutter of her purple cape and the slam of the massive, wooden door, Avarosa was gone from the room, leaving her two younger sisters alone. Serylda took off the fur coat and threw it unceremoniously on the floor before throwing herself on a large, leather-coated bench by the fire.
"Serylda?"
"Yes, Lissa?"
Lissandra glanced up from her book, her eyes landing on her older sister. She had her arms crossed underneath her head and her unruly, unevenly cut arm-length hair was obscuring the top half of her face. A smirk plastered to her lips, she was humming something quietly.
"What supplies were you talking about?" she asked in a blank, seemingly uninterested voice. The truth was, she was dying to know what was so important that they had discussed it almost every hour of the past week, but wouldn't tell Lissandra even when she asked.
Serylda shook the hair out of her eyes before she looked at the younger girl playfully.
"I thought you knew already," she said in a mocking tone, snorting as she noticed Lissandra's scowl. "The Ice. We've been gathering as much at the Silver Summit as we could."
"The True Ice?" Lissandra's scowl turned into a look of confusion. "Why would you need half a ton of it?"
Serylda stood up and walked over to the youngest princess to pat her on the head.
"You're still a child, Lissa," she sighed. "You wouldn't understand."
oOOo
But I did understand, even if I wasn't fully aware of it.
The True Ice was one of the toughest materials known to humans; in Freljord, we had unlimited access to it. Something Demacia and Noxus, growing in power with each passing week, could only dream of. They were a threat to us; but with protection, we could become their worst nightmare.
Avarosa waited for the Coronation Day to run her plan; the Demacian Empire had been reaching the southern parts of Freljord. It had to be crushed.
Both my sisters had ordered to make True Ice armor fit to their bodies. Both of them spent many months wearing them, as the Ice was as light as it was tough.
But even though the pendant I wore on my neck was the size of a big acorn, I began to feel it weighing me down more with each passing second.
I knew there was something wrong with it; I just couldn't quite grasp what it meant.
Avarosa's armor was a hundred times bigger than my crystal.
oOOo
"Your Highness."
The men bowed their heads in respect as Avarosa entered the room, her purple cape fluttering in the draught.
"You called for my presence," she said in a loud voice, authority seeping from every word.
Raganhar's Council members looked between each other; Avarosa turned out to be just as powerful as her late Father.
"Your Highness," the leader of the Council, Bjorn, stepped out from the crowd gathered around the wooden table. "I think it would be better if we got to the point and over with the case as quickly as possible. Princess Lissandra is coming of age in a week—"
"I am aware of that," Avarosa huffed, crossing her arms across his chest. "I didn't know we needed to have a Council gathering for a Birthday Feast."
"It's... not about the Birthday Feast, your Highness." Bjorn straightened his thick mustache as he threw an uncertain look around the Council members. When his eyes landed back on Avarosa, he continued in a quiet voice. "Your Father, the King, asked me to keep this until you were all ready; until Princess Lissandra reached the age of sixteen."
He moved aside to reveal a roll of parchment lying on the table, tied with a leather strap and sealed with Raganhar's seal. Avarosa's jaw fell slightly agape; she didn't expect anything like this.
"This is your Father's last will," Bjorn continued as she quickly made her way across the room to reach the letter. "I think it's high time we executed it."
Wordlessly, the Princess untied the strap and broke the crimson seal, not paying attention to any of the words said. Avarosa's eyes darted over her father's handwriting, taking in each sentence of the short letter with a breath caught in her chest.
Suddenly, she threw it on the table and, with an enraged face, made her way out of the room, leaving all the men staring at the door dumbfounded. Minutes of complete silence had passed before Bjorn walked back to the table and with calm, steady hands took the parchment to read out loud.
oOOo
With the dawn of my sixteenth birthday, my Father's last will was to be executed.
Leaving no male offspring behind, he knew every man, be it young or old, would fight for his eldest daughter's hand; not for the sake of Avarosa's wisdom and beauty, but for the pure power the marriage would bring. The last man of his dynasty, Raganhar III could not let the lands his ancestors had fought for be ruined by the reign of a stranger.
But there was a thing my Father could do to save Freljord; to save at least parts of it, had any of our husbands proved to be an incompetent ruler.
Raganhar's last will was to divide Freljord into three equal parts. The East for Avarosa, with Rakelstake as the new capital city; West for Serylda, with the great castle located in Mosden; North for Lissandra, with capital in Sandviken. Every part led by its own Queen and her husband, the King; all of them forming what was to be named the Freljordian Union.
The Power Avarosa had come to love so dearly was suddenly taken away from her; at least two of its third parts.
And there was one more thing.
The Silver Summit was located in the North.
oOOo
Three months had passed.
Even though the new rules had come to life on Lissandra's Birthday, the Princesses chose to stay in their Father's castle, visiting their new homes every so often on important occasions and holidays.
Staying in one place together didn't work on keeping them close; the three young women were falling apart with each passing day, though they didn't notice it at first. Avarosa and Serylda engaged in quarrels more frequently than they used to; more often than not those fights were serious, with both of the Princesses not speaking to each other for days.
Lissandra felt left out of everything; even though she had come of age, she was still not allowed to rule the part of Freljord destined to be hers, not until she had found a suitable man to marry. Avarosa was patronising her more than she had used to before, pointing out every little mistake the younger girl would make.
The eldest Princess grew cold herself; people would rarely see her smile anymore.
oOOo
This was the point where we lost her, Serylda.
If I could come back in time to the week before my Birthday, with the last parts of heart still left beating in my chest, I do want to believe I would. I would destroy my Father's last will.
But that's impossible.
And even though I never will admit it to myself, there was this thought once in the back of my mind; the thought I tried to kill immediately as it appeared, freezing the little light of hope that pierced through my dying heart.
This could all be avoided if not for the True Ice.
oOOo
With the April that marked Avarosa's twenty-third Birthday, the Princess was supposed to get married.
The wedding was splendid; all the greatest figures in Freljord were invited and crowds of faithful subjects surrounded the chapel, chanting and screaming for their Queen. Even the snow seemed to stop just the littlest bit.
Lissandra and Serylda stood closest to their sister; the only family Avarosa had left were the most important people invited for the ceremony. As the eldest Princess and the future King swore before the Sun, the Moon and all of the Stars, the crowds cheered and fires were lit to lighten up the dark of the night.
And, of course, the Feast that would follow was not to be forgotten for the next ten centuries.
Raganhar's castle was full of people for the first time in years; as she tried to get out of the Ballroom, Avarosa bumped into so many bodies she couldn't even count them.
"There she is," she heard Serylda's playful voice as the eldest Princess passed the Northern castle entrance and let out the breath she was holding. "I guess they've tired you a bit, haven't they?"
"They surely have," she answered with a smile, though one could tell from a mile distance that it was a fake one.
Then again, Lissandra and Serylda couldn't really blame their older sister; after all, her husband was more than twice her age and a fat, drunken bastard. But he was of noble blood.
"You wanted to meet us?" Lissandra said quietly, moving aside to let the eldest woman pass her on the stairs leading down to the gardens.
"Yes," came an equally quiet answer and Avarosa took a careful look around, as if she was scared there could be someone watching or following them. "I have sent away my guards a few minutes ago; I want to have a while to talk with both of you freely before I am enslaved forever."
"Now you're overre—"
"Shh," Avarosa cut Serylda's words off with a finger to the middle Princess' lips, the eldest girl expression a weird mix of emotions. She motioned towards the gardens before setting off herself, her favorite purple cape flowing as they proceeded quickly through the snowy main alley.
"Don't you think somebody is going to notice your absence?" Lissandra asked as she caught up with Avarosa.
The older girl only gave her a weak smile.
oOOo
I don't want to remember that night. I don't want to think about what happened.
It hurts the same every time.
And I'm stuck with it forever.
oOOo
"Would you believe I had almost forgotten about this place?"
It was Serylda who had broken the silence as they entered the small, sheltered part of the garden. Avarosa sat on a stone bench under a Freljord rose bush that bloomed even though the skin on Lissandra's cheeks was stinging with the cold. The youngest girl was strolling around with her mouth slightly open, taking in all the various scents and sights surrounding them - the faint smell of roses and fresh snow lying on the ground just outside the rosary, the vibrant, crimson red of the flowers and emerald green of the bushes. Avarosa's platinum blonde hair contrasted with the dark background, making it seem almost as if her hair was truly white as the snow; Lissandra wasn't even sure it was only an illusion.
"So this is it," the eldest Princess sighed, playing with the petals of a nearby rose flower. "So this is the end, tonight."
"You're making it sound like it's the end of the world, Ava," Serylda huffed, falling on one knee beside her and taking one of her sister's bare hands between her gloved ones, reminding Lissandra of old illustrations depicting a prince kneeling in front of his beloved. "It's only marriage; our parents went through that, and their parents before them. We're going to survive that, all three of us."
"I know." With the faintest of smiles she placed the tips of her fingers on Serylda's cheek and stroked gently, Avarosa's eyes speaking unnamed emotions Lissandra had never seen in those teal orbs before. "I wasn't speaking of that, Ylda. He's only a man, and this is only life; we marry, and then we fuck, and then we have children and fuck more to have more. He's my King, and I'm his Queen; that's how it's always been in Freljord, for centuries past."
Both the younger girls cringed at the words coming from those beautiful lips. They had heard Avarosa swear before, far more than that to be honest; but they had never heard her utter the words with such spite.
"But I guess it's not going to be like that this time. This time, we're going to have three queens. Our Father decided to divide a powerful nation into three independent countries."
"We're going to work together," Lissandra spoke and they both turned their heads to look at the youngest girl, surprised. She approached them quickly and pondered kneeling down beside Serylda, but her long dress would probably make it impossible, so she settled for laying her hands down on both her sisters' shoulders. "Freljord won't be apart, as long as we are always together."
Avarosa closed her eyes and, much to Lissandra's surprise, tears fell down her cheeks to disappear in the fresh green grass at her feet.
"I have a surprise for you," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "For both of you."
She gently pushed Lissandra's hand away and motioned for Serylda to stand up, as Avarosa did so herself.
"Turn around," she ordered, wiping the remaining wetness from her cheeks with the hem of her cape. Her words were met with two uncertain expressions. "You will see; just turn around and approach that bush behind you."
With a quick glance into each other's eyes, Serylda and Lissandra did what they would always do; they obeyed their eldest sister's older. As they walked forward, the chilliest of feelings came down Lissandra's spine; a sort of anxiety was building inside her gut, as if there was some kind of monster standing behind them.
But there wasn't a monster. There was Avarosa.
"Don't turn around," she uttered another order as their faces almost came into contact with the roses of the hedge. Out of the corner of her eye Lissandra saw Serylda stir nervously, as if her older sister was feeling the same chill that was now clenching Lissandra's throat. "I need to get it, don't turn around unless you want the surprise to be spoiled. Trust me."
"We do trust you, Ava," Serylda said with a smile, though there was something odd in her voice. "Hurry up, though, people are going to notice our ab—"
Things happened so quickly Lissandra didn't register it at first.
Serylda's sentence ended abruptly, interrupted with a wet thud to Lissandra's left and a swishing sound just beside her right ear. An arrow pierced through a rose the youngest girl has been staring at, shattering the frozen flower into red confetti. She stopped breathing as she turned left in slow motion to look at Serylda's body falling to the ground.
It took Lissandra another moment to notice the second arrow that pierced right through her sister's skull and the blood pooling around her head, making the platinum blonde hair seem snow white in comparison.
It took her long seconds to believe what she saw was true.
She wanted to scream, but her breath was frozen inside her chest as she turned to face Avarosa.
"I missed you," the older girl mumbled, her face completely devoid of any color as her eyes bore an absent look.
Avarosa took another arrow out of the quiver lying at her feet. Lissandra's mind somehow found the time to notice the True Ice arrowhead, as the older girl placed it in the rest. She drew the string.
Lissandra could have moved. She could have tried running away, but there was no point to that; Avarosa missed once, and it was one time too much. She couldn't let the younger girl get away alive now.
"We can't work together," Avarosa said, as Lissandra's fear rooted her to the ground, with the tears streaming from her eyes the only indication she was still alive. "We can't work together, Lissy. Freljord only needs one Queen."
There were three last words that she uttered, but they didn't make it to Lissandra anymore. The pain exploded in her chest as she was thrown backwards from the impact and blood started to flood her lungs. She could feel the foreign object in her body, she knew it was sticking out of her back as she bent her head down to look at the once white fletching stained red at her chest.
Lissandra fell down to her knees.
The last thing she saw was Avarosa's purple cape before the world around disappeared.
A/N: Thank you for reading the first part. I will try to post the second as soon as possible - it might take a while though, seeing as the parts tend to be lenghty. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a review - or if you didn't, leave one too! I appreciate all the feedback I get!