Note: I am so sorry for not having updated this for a long time. I've been struggling with this fic, and frankly, this update probably isn't the best one I've got. But rather than leave this hanging indefinitely, I sat my ass down and wrote, and this is what came out. I was torn between updating until I was happy with it, but at some point I realized that if I kept putting this off, I will NEVER post anything. I promise to do better next time. That being said, constructive criticism will greatly be appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction. Disney also owns the King and Queen of Arendelle.
"Bertram and I have spoken. He knows about my condition," Raimond announced to Agdar as the younger man entered his father's room after coming from the library. He had made up his mind—he planned to tell his father that he will ask Idun to marry him as soon as possible. He found Raimond penning some letters on his desk, seemingly better because he no longer looked pale and wan. However, Agdar's sharp eyes caught the handkerchief that lay by his right, which meant...
He's coughing up blood, he realized. He's getting worse.
Agdar quickly darted his gaze away from the handkerchief and simply nodded in response. Rarely has he felt unsure of his next move—he was a planner, but this had blown up in his face spectacularly. Then again, he had not counted on falling in love, nor had he foreseen that he would make a promise he may have to break that would risk his relationship with Idun.
"What did King Bertram say?" he asked, pulling up a chair by Raimond's side.
"He said he'll speak to Idun about this and—"
"Is he going to force her to rush the marriage? Because I won't have it," Agdar interrupted fiercely, waving his hand. "I won't force Idun to do something she isn't ready for. I gave her my word that I will give her time." But the fire in his eyes went out, causing his shoulders to slump. "That's what I want to do, anyway. But I may have to break my word because of...this." He clenched his jaw to force back the bitterness he felt over the situation.
Raimond looked taken aback at his son's outburst before he sighed. "Had I known keeping my illness a secret would cause this predicament...anyway." He pinned Agdar with an assessing gaze, seemingly perceiving the turmoil the younger man felt, and flashed a small, understanding smile at him. "You really do love her, don't you, Agdar?" he observed, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't just some temporary flirtation for you." There was no question in Raimond's voice.
"No."
"Even though you've only known her for a week?"
"I'm sure of it."
"So you're prepared to stand by her through thick and thin? Through sickness and in health?" Raimond pressed.
Agdar met his father's eyes steadily. "With all my heart."
"Then it wouldn't be a problem if you wait for her to be ready for marriage."
The stony look of determination on Agdar's face faded. "It's not that simple," he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he paced before Raimond. "You know how life is uncertain, Father. With you..." he trailed off, bowing his head and searching for the right word to say that wasn't so brutal in its honesty.
"Dying," Raimond supplied bluntly.
Agdar grunted. "Yes, that. Well. If I'm not married by then, I'll be the only one left to continue our line. If something happens to me and I've no heir—"
"Agdar. You worry too much."
"Father!" His head whipped up to meet Raimond's serene gaze. "Do I need to remind you what happens to countries that do not have a ruler? It gets carved up among power-hungry nations! That is precisely why I wish to be married—"
"Even so," the king interrupted. "I understand why, and it strengthens my belief that you will be a good ruler when you take the throne. But I do not want you or Idun to get married for my sake, or even the kingdom's sake. If you do marry, do it for each other. Do it out of love, not duty. That comes later, when both of you face life's challenges together. And believe me, when you're king, you're going to need all the love and support you're going to get from your queen."
Agdar stared at Raimond, who returned his gaze calmly. "...I don't know," he faltered, hating the indecision that tinged his voice. "I do love Idun, and I'm willing to walk to the ends of the earth for her. " He did not speak for a moment, wondering if he should even ask a rhetorical question. "It was like that between you and Mother, wasn't it?"
"You've seen it for yourself, son."
Agdar smiled faintly. "That I did. Probably why I couldn't stomach marrying Weselton's niece, even if she had been the sensible choice."
"What did I tell you? Us Arendahls are romantics." Raimond winked.
His smile widened when he saw his father's indomitable cheer surfacing. However, the moment was shattered when a series of coughs caused Raimond to hunker down, scrabbling for his handkerchief to cover his mouth. The crown prince could only watch helplessly as the sound of the king's explosive, raspy coughs filled the room, forcibly reminding him that time was running out.
The coughing fit subsided and left the older man heaving for breath. "Damned bl—disease," he muttered, staring at the blood-stained cloth in his hand. "Hmph. Almost made a pun there."
"That's not funny," Agdar muttered back.
"You know me, I always try to find humor even in the worst of situations," Raimond quipped. "It's probably best if you don't linger around me overlong. Go get some fresh air. Bertram has graciously let us stay for an additional week for me to recuperate, but I thought I should hurry getting my affairs in order. And prepare your mother, I suppose." He paused, giving Agdar some time to process what it implied. "We're leaving late afternoon tomorrow."
"How did Mother take the news of your illness?" Agdar inquired. "Did you ask her to keep this a secret from me too?"
"Of course she took it hard," Raimond answered. "She and I got into a horrific fight, and we didn't speak to each other for a week." He sighed and shook his head. "Then we realized how stupid we were being since I don't have much time left—why waste it over pride? She let me do as I thought was right, and we had a silent agreement that if it backfires, she'll give me a hard time over it. I'll give her a week to keep rubbing it in."
"Make that a month. You know how much she loves being right."
"Don't I know it," Raimond replied ruefully. "Well, what are you still doing here? Go find Idun and talk to her."
"I'm going, I'm going." Agdar raised his hands in surrender and headed toward the door.
"Son?"
He turned and looked at his father in askance, raising an eyebrow. Raimond cleared his throat and took a breath before speaking.
"You will make a fine king."
Agdar inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Father," he said simply, keeping his emotions bottled up. It will not do to lose control once more—it was useless because it would not cure Raimond. Driving a wedge between himself and his father because he lost control was the last thing he wanted to do.
He strode out of the room without a backward glance, closing the door behind him so he could go on a walk while thinking about how he will tell his fiancée about his decision.
"So, Papa, you're going to support me whatever decision I end up making?" Idun asked, winding her arm around his and resting her hand on the crook of his elbow as they walked down the hall of portraits. Father and daughter were headed to the dining room for dinner—their talk had stretched out to the rest of the afternoon, with them coming to terms over Bertram's benign neglect over Idun's mother. Well, that's one wound healed, Idun thought as she waited for her father to answer, looking up at him.
"You know I will," Bertram answered, patting her hand reassuringly. "Which reminds me—what IS your decision? It never came up while we were talking earlier."
"Well..." she drew out the word, rolling her eyes upward to avoid his curiously intent gaze, "I think I'll keep it to myself a little longer. Just to be sure." She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm. "Thank you for your support, Papa. I promise that whatever I decide, it won't just be for me, but for the good of both Arendelle and Buckland."
"Good."
Dinner with the king and crown prince of Arendelle was going smoothly on the surface, but the former's condition had cast a pall over them, making the conversation rather stilted. The kings talked about goings on at the Southern Isles, which Idun listened to with half an ear as she observed Agdar as unobtrusively as she could.
He had been pleasant—nothing in his demeanor suggested anything amiss. He had smiled at her a few times.
And that made Idun highly suspicious.
Her mother used to do that—pretend everything was alright, a fixed smile in place, but one that did not reach her eyes.
Agdar's eyes were the same.
Idun knew it was quite presumptuous of her, but had he decided to postpone marriage (she refused to add 'their' because she was presumptuous enough already)? If he was, then why? Did he come up with some plan to make sure the Arendellian succession remained secure considering his father's condition?
One of the drawbacks of getting engaged in a week—you don't know if your fiancé has a streak of martyrdom, she thought wryly.
"The Southern Isles is particularly worrying," her father was saying. "Half a dozen royal sons, with two different wives. Queen Sieglinde was alright, I suppose, gods rest her soul—but Queen Matilda? That woman is bad news. It wouldn't surprise me if she is plotting to put one of her sons on the throne over the heir."
"Yes, too many contenders for the throne," Raimond agreed mildly. Agdar looked stricken for a fleeting moment, then schooled his features into a neutral mask. Idun supposed the mention of sons reminded him of his predicament over Arendelle's throne. She tried frantically to catch her father's eye, but he barreled on.
"Not good for the continent, either. If Nicolaus managed to marry all of his sons off to other royal families, why—he could easily gain control without having to wage war. And the damn Isles possesses the strongest navy in Eudora as well," Bertram went on. "I actually received a marriage proposal shortly after I agreed to yours. Idun for Prince Ferdinand."
"Ah, the heir. I imagine it was a tempting offer, Bertram. With your military and their navy, an alliance between you two would have been powerful indeed," Raimond remarked.
"I don't trust Nicolaus, Raimond."
"So instead you chose to ally with a nation you can push around," the king of Arendelle commented with a raised eyebrow.
"Come now..."
"Don't worry. Arendelle prefers to stay in the sidelines. Even if we did have the resources, we don't have the manpower..." Raimond trailed off, his complexion going ashen. He clutched at his chest and wheezed for breath.
"Father!" Agdar shot from his chair and placed a hand on Raimond's back protectively, alarm writ clear on his face. "Someone—get a doctor, quickly!"
Idun watched, helpless and rooted at her spot as she wrung her hands over her chest. Bertram had sprung into action and told Richard to fetch the royal physician. Frustration that she could not do anything made her hands clench into fists as her mind worked furiously to think of something—anything—she could do, her heart going out for her fiancé.
"Agdar," Raimond clutched at his son's coat lapels, his breathing severely labored. "Trust—your judgment. Do not be swayed by this—follow...your..." his voice grew softer and his grip loosened. Idun gasped when Raimond's head lolled forward, his eyes sliding shut.
"Nononono...Father, stay with me. Please, Father. Don't..." Agdar stopped, his throat working to swallow hard. Idun's hands flew to cover her mouth as Agdar's face crumpled into a mixture of surprise, denial, anger, and despair. She wanted to run to his side, but she remained rooted to her spot, a mere spectator over the tableau before her.
"Father," she heard him choke out as something warm trickled down her cheek. Tears? she wondered. But why? Unless...
Agdar bowed and cradled Raimond close against him, rocking back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched. The royal physician soon burst in and stopped momentarily before positioning himself on the king of Arendelle's unoccupied side, checking for a pulse. His expression remained neutral, but Idun knew.
King Raimond of Arendelle was gone.
The Royal Physician of Buckland, Dr. Archimedes Walpole, had declared that the King of Arendelle's cause of death was apoplexy. "Was it caused by his consumption?" King Bertram asked.
"Most likely not, sire," the physician answered. He, Bertram, Idun, and Agdar were in the parlor to discuss the next steps. Agdar could barely believe that he had run out of time with his father. He knew his time with him was limited, but this...
He tried very hard not to curse God. But then...
"...I could conduct an autopsy to ascertain—"
"No," Agdar said abruptly, speaking out for the first time. "This may be a blessing in disguise—my father didn't have to suffer through his illness." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Idun's face clouding over with sympathy, causing a surge of irritation to wash over him. He didn't need sympathy, noting with dull surprise and pride at how calm he seemed.
Or maybe he was just left numb with shock over what happened.
But Agdar knew that wasn't exactly the case. He felt robbed, and he wanted nothing more than to run away to rage against the injustice done to him by fate. He wasn't ready to have Raimond taken away from him.
But he had duties to fulfill. Those, he was ready for.
Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let it show.
Agdar had to get out of the parlor. Right now.
Dr. Walpole cleared his throat, snapping the prince out of his brooding. "It may take a week to prepare the king's body for the journey back to Arendelle," he informed Agdar.
"Thank you," he responded. "If you'll excuse me, I need to write to my mother about what happened to prepare her. King Bertram—"
"Why not leave immediately?" Idun interrupted, speaking up for the first time. He looked at her in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. She looked surprised herself, as if she had not expected to say anything. "I mean…" she faltered before taking a deep breath to fortify herself. "Your mother will need you. It would be better if you tell her yourself."
"But what about—"
"I will accompany your father when the preparations are done." She turned to King Bertram, who wore a bemused expression on his face. "I have your permission to do so Father, yes?" There was a note of finality in her voice that told Agdar she was confident she would get her way.
Not if he had anything to do about it.
"No."
A beat of silence fell over them. "Why not?" Her brows came together into a stubborn frown that warned him he was in for an argument.
"I don't have time for this. Please excuse me. I have an urgent letter to write." He walked past his fiancée, whose mouth had fallen open at his rather rude refusal, but at this point he was too stretched thin to care if he was.
"Leave him, Idun," he heard Bertram say as he stalked toward the door of the parlor. "Now is not the time."
"But Papa—"
Agdar closed the door.