Centuries ago, in the land of Arendelle, old King Olaf lay propped in his bed, weak and frail. He was a beloved king, and the kingdom had been prosperous and at peace for many years. He hoped to leave a legacy of peace, and was about to do something that his son would simply have to learn to deal with.

The door opened and his admiral, Aksel Bjorgman, entered. "Leave us, and see that we are not disturbed," the King commanded his guards, who promptly left. When Aksel remained at attention, Olaf called him over. "Please, my good Admiral, come take a seat by my bed."

Aksel nodded and approached, bringing the King's desk chair closer and sitting formally. "What would you have of me, Greatness?" he asked, sitting straight and ready, clearly expecting an order for the military. "Might I add that this is an unusual place for strategy planning?"

"Strategy planning?" Olaf mused, stroking his own beard once. "Yes, I suppose this is strategy, but not for our forces." He continued when he noticed the confused look on the Admiral's face. "This is strategic planning for the future of my kingdom."

"I do not understand, my King," Aksel countered. "Surely this is a discussion for the Council, or even your son-"

"Benedikt will not inherit," Olaf interrupted, his voice stern. "He MUST not rule!" A coughing fit interrupted him, and Aksel offered him the glass of water from the nightstand. After a small drink, Olaf continued. "He is as unfit to rule as your son would be to order troops. It is my failing, but it must be corrected by any means necessary."

"Then what do you plan, Majesty? To surrender the kingdom to another? To name another relative?" Aksel guessed. "Benedikt will NOT be pleased."

"I intend to name a successor much closer to me than another relative," Olaf said, then smiled at Aksel. "I intend to name YOU, my Admiral, my dear friend and confidant."

"ME?" Aksel started, then rose and stepped back. "I couldn't possibly rule! I have no qualifications, no desire to lead-"

"Which is why it MUST be you, Aksel!" the King raised his voice as much as he dared. This caused Aksel to return to his seat, and Olaf continued, "You have every qualification, and have had years of preparation as my Admiral, to lead our people further into this time of peace! But it is your humbleness, your compassion, and your faithfulness that have lead me to this decision. You possess EVERY quality that Benedikt does not, and NONE of the qualities he does. You are the son my own should have become! You MUST do this, to provide a safe, peaceful future for my subjects!"

Aksel was quiet for a long time, his eyes distant as he thought on the matter. Finally, he spoke, his eyes meeting his king's. "Does my King command this, or ask this of me?"

"I ask it of you," Olaf replied quietly. "In this I will not command you. But please, take this." He produced a letter from his other nightstand bearing his seal. "If you choose to accept, this is my decree and charge to you."

Aksel took the parchment and carefully folded it to read later. "Then I need some time. I shall answer you in the morning." With that, Aksel rose and took his leave, closing the door softly behind himself.

King Olaf smiled to himself. 'He will make the right decision,' he thought. 'It's just the kind of man he is.' After a few more moments of quiet introspection, he rang the bell on his nightstand, calling the guards. When one entered, he spoke again. "Call for my son, Benedikt. I wish to speak with him tonight." The guard nodded and closed the door, and Olaf sat back, preparing himself for what he knew would not be a pleasant conversation.

The door opened abruptly, and Benedikt stepped inside. His father had been acting strange lately, so it came as no surprise that he was being called here so late in the evening. "You called, father?" he asked as he approached the bedside.

Olaf smiled and nodded once. "Benedikt, my son, please sit." When Benedikt was seated on the edge of the bed, he spoke again. "Tell me, why do you believe I have called you here at such a late hour?"

Benedikt thought for a moment, before settling on a reason. "Well, father, I would have to guess that it is either because of my latest gambling debt, or to discuss your succession."

Olaf's eyes widened. "Latest gambling debt? My son, I have admonished you many times in the past. We cannot continue using the kingdom's funds for frivolities such as that!" He sighed, then, and collapsed against the headboard of his bed. "But I suppose that leads to my next point, and my true reason for calling you here." He looked directly into his son's eyes before continuing. "You will not rule. My successor has been named."

Benedikt's eyes immediately began to tear. "Not I? Then who, father? Tell me! Is it that crooked cousin from the north? Or one of the Council?" he argued.

"Aksel," the King said simply. Benedikt leaned back, as if he'd just been slapped in the face. "He has every quality you do not, Benedikt. He is compassionate. He listens to those under his command. He does not boast of his power, and he leads by example. You do not possess those qualities."

"Perhaps not, father," the Prince countered, "but I have other qualities, qualities that could serve the kingdom well." He rose and began to pace. "Ambition, to expand our kingdom when you would not. Resourcefulness, to keep our kingdom prosperous despite any...issues. Courage, to stand my ground in any diplomatic situation. None of those count to you though, do they?"

"Benedikt, stop," Olaf commanded. "Your qualities are excellent qualities in an advisor, which I hold no doubts Aksel will request of you. But in a King? They are the very qualities that will lead to corruption and the ending of a kingdom. But your faults as a son, are my failures as a father."

The King spread his arms, and Benedikt went to him, embracing his father and shedding tears. He supported himself with one hand, and clenched it into the pillowcase. After a moment, he leaned back. "I would make the world burn," he whispered, "to hear you say you loved me."

The King's eyes widened, and Benedikt smiled an evil smile before placing the feather pillow over his father's face and pressing down, hard. Olaf, as frail as he was, couldn't muster the strength to fend him off, and after a few moments he stopped struggling.

Benedikt waited a few more moments before lifting the pillow away and returning it to its spot next to the king. He leaned in to check for breath, then whispered in his dead father's ear, "I shall rule. And if Aksel defies me, then he shall be dealt with, as will any who stand in my way." He kissed his father's cheek once, then sat upright and rubbed his eyes until they watered heavily. "Guards!" he shouted. "Guards, come quickly! My father is dead!"

Aksel rushed the King's bedchambers, pushing aside guards and doctors until he could kneel by Olaf's side. He didn't believe what he'd heard en route, and even seeing his beloved King lifeless before him, he had trouble believing. After a few moments, he leaned in and kissed his King's forehead, then withdrew a few paces, allowing the staff to resume their duties. A few tears fell from his eyes, then he turned and exited the room.

He didn't get far before a voice made him stop. "Aksel, my friend," Benedikt called, "please wait. I'd like to talk."

Aksel turned slowly, noting the fully armed guards flanking Benedikt. "I have no desire to converse with anyone at the moment, Benedikt," he countered. "My King lays dead. I must grieve, and lay plans for the future." A feeling of dread crept into his stomach, but he refused to let it show.

"Those plans are what I hoped to discuss," Benedikt replied with a small smile. "As my father has passed, the crown now falls to me. I hope that you will serve me as faithfully as you have served my father."

Benedikt extended his hand, and Aksel looked at it for several moments before answering. "I do not believe so, Benedikt. Regardless of what the future holds, I shall be relinquishing my post. I will not be your Admiral." With that he turned and strode down the hallway quickly. He fingered the paper tucked into his tunic, and headed for Council chamber, where he knew he would find several members.

When he entered, he approached the head of the table they gathered at. He unfolded the paper and placed it before them, and the Gothi picked it up and began to read. "My Lords, I request your immediate attention," he said without hesitation. When they all looked at him, he lowered his voice and began to speak. "I have reason to believe that Benedikt-"

"Will be King, and that you will be executed for treason!" Benedikt shouted as he entered, a large contingent of guards behind him. "As will any that back him!" he declared, turning to face the Councilmen.

"But Highness," the Gothi declared, "this is a statement of succession, signed by your father and marked with his seal." He paused for a moment, reading a bit more. "It names Aksel as King Olaf's successor, not you."

"Do you challenge my rule?" Benedikt shouted. "Guards, arrest them all for treason. They are to be executed at the stake in the morning. Make the preparations immediately!"

The Gothi protested immediately. "By Odin, Prince Benedikt, you cannot go against your father's wishes! To do so will surely bring a scourge upon this Kingdom, and the disfavor of the gods!"

"I AM KING!" Benedikt roared. "I AM A GOD! Guards, take them away!"

"Benedikt, you know you're doing wrong," Aksel pleaded, struggling against the men who held him. "You know your father refused to pass the crown to you. Think about your actions!"

Benedikt picked up the paper and carried it to Aksel, stuffing it into the condemned man's shirt. "Keep this scrap. It can burn with you in the morning." Then he turned and strode out of the room while the guards escorted the Council and Aksel to the dungeon.

The following morning, word was spread quickly that a traitor had murdered King Olaf and would be burned at the stake in the courtyard of the castle, along with those who enabled him. The entire kingdom came alive, and many headed to the castle barely dressed to take part.

At midmorning, Aksel and Council were escorted to the prepared stake and fastened in place in a circle as the crowds gathered. Most of the Council stood with their heads lowered. Aksel and the Gothi, however, stood tall and proud, despite having not slept.

The crowd began to murmur at the sight of their second-highest religious leader standing with the accused. Before it could proceed much further, he addressed the crowd. "My fellow Arendellians, heed my words! Believe not all you hear today! By the gods, we have been falsely accused!"

"SILENCE!" a voice roared from the entryway to the castle. All heads turned to where Benedikt stood, a scroll in his hands. "My loyal subjects, it is with a heavy heart that I must confirm my father was murdered in the night. It grieves me deeply, but my first act as King must be to execute those who committed treason against the crown!"

The crowd murmured once more, but quickly quieted back down. After a moment, Benedikt continued. "Admiral Aksel murdered my father, then worked with these men to draft a false order of succession naming himself King. I caught them in the act, and have decreed they shall be executed for their crimes, a sacrifice to Odin Allfather to usher in prosperity for my reign!" His eyes met Aksel's, and he issued the command: "Light the fires!"

The crowd collectively gasped at the swiftness of Benedikt's order, and the guards immediately came forward and lit the wood beneath the accused. The wood was dry, and the flames began to spread quickly.

It was then that Aksel decided to speak. "BENEDIKT FATHER-SLAYER! I CURSE YOU, AND I CURSE YOUR CROWN! MAY FREYJA SEE YOU BARREN! AND MAY ODIN ALLFATHER, IN HIS WISDOM, MARK THE NEXT RULER OF ARENDELLE WITH HER CROCUS UNTIL A TRUE RULER IS BORN!"

Then the sky opened, and a bright flash of light illuminated the fire, causing everyone in the courtyard to cover their eyes. When next anyone looked, all that remained where the fire once roared was blackened ground.

That night, a maid gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Adorning the boy's back was a crocus, an exact match of the royal emblem of Arendelle.