Nearly Two Years Ago
Days after the Grand Ball
Felicity hadn't intended to strike Elsa in the face when she balled up that snowball.
Augustus had stayed at her side when the snow began to fall, and as soon as the first cold tremor made its way up her limbs, he'd draped his jacket over her shoulders. A warm look had passed between them, and she'd remembered sleeping in his embrace when she was a child. Back then he'd been the big brother she had always wanted. He was the boy with the golden smile, with welcoming open arms. And over the years that hadn't changed.
Felicity couldn't contain the excited quiver that fluttered up her spin and tickled the corners of her mouth when Augustus handed her a small palm-sized snowman. He had even used two small pebbled for the eyes.
"You're not too cold?" he'd asked her, a worried vein strained on his right temple. But he had the look of a brother in his eyes, not a lover or a fiancé.
"You worry too much," she'd answered, pressing her cold fingers on his face and tracing the scar on his cheek. "But don't think that I'm not grateful."
"It can't be helped," he said as he ruffled her hair like he often had when she was a child. "I'll always worry about you."
She cast her eyes down to the snow that was thickening at her feet. Despite the warm blush that tingled her cheeks, a heavy ache had woven its way into her chest. It was a lonely feeling, like her heart was slowly hollowing out. Lonely, but also bitter.
"I'm not a child," she replied firmly, unable to mask the curt bite of her words. "Please don't treat me like one." Gently, she pulled his hand away, delighting over the spark she felt whenever their hands touched, but also regretting it as he silently nodded. She was asking him to stop coddling her, and she knew he would respect that. But that also meant that there would be no more playful caresses, no more affectionate tousling of hair. No more clinging to his coattails.
Felicity had always lived for those moments, taken them as proof of his affections. But there was a gap in the way he looked at her and the queen. The wider that gap grew, the more painful his attentions became. And as much as she wanted him to notice her, she didn't want him to see her as nothing more than a kid sister.
So, when the queen and her sister broke into an intense snowball fight and Felicity noticed the way he looked at Elsa, his eyes gleaming, mouth slightly parted, and his breaths a touch more pronounced, she felt a sharp constriction in her chest. Felicity crushed the tiny snowman in her hand and, fueled by mounting bitterness, pressed it into a single tightly packed ball, ignoring the cold ache in her fingers.
"Adorable," Augustus uttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on Elsa and his voice barely audible as the winds picked up shortly after the snow stopped falling, their clothes flapping loudly, billowing with the breeze.
That's when she threw it.
Felicity wasn't a strong girl by any means. Words like 'meek' and 'dainty' were often used to describe her by members of the court and visiting dignitaries. Her own mother saw her as feeble and weak, and had not been shy about saying so on many occasions. And yet, when that snowball flew from her hands, the spark of anger she felt inside only made it accelerate faster as it hurled toward the queen.
It struck Elsa hard on the forehead, hard enough to send her sprawling backwards into the snow, and her sister down with her. When they didn't rise up to their feet right away, Augustus took a hesitant step toward them. Felicity reached for the hem of his shirt, desperately not wanting him to go to the queen's side, but just as her shaky hand grazed the silken fabric, she stiffened and closed her fingers. In a span of a heartbeat, Augustus was making his way toward Elsa, and Felicity could only stare at his back as she watched him go.
She was shaking again, and it was only then that she realized that Augustus' jacket has slipped off her shoulders and sunk into the powdery snow near her feet.
Love leaves you weak and vulnerable, Felicity heard her mother's disapproving words echo in her thoughts. Better to be smart and cunning. Dragons have no need for useless things.
The castle grounds back home was riddled with figures and carvings of dragons. Jagged, gnarled beastly faces and scaly bodies cut into stone walls and woven into flags. They were in their Coat of Arms and on the family seal. The horrifying figures were everywhere. A menacing dragon statue kept in the long corridor outside her room gave her nightmares until the age of twelve. The Malachi legacy was founded on stories and folklore of fairies, dragons, and powerful leaders. And Felicity, the sole heir of this legacy, embodied none of those things.
Love, compassion, kindness…these things are not weaknesses, Augustus had once told her as he'd wiped away her tears. They are your greatest assets.
She had wanted to believe that the concern and affection brimming in his eyes was love. That maybe he felt for her a fraction of what she felt for him. Their parents had always hoped they'd marry. Even though the Hawkins were on a lower social standing than the Malachis, they had money and controlled key trade routes. And her parents sought to expand their political influence through such a marriage. But Felicity only ever wanted his love.
In the distance, she watched as Augustus helped Elsa to her feet. Watched her slip her arm around his as they began to make their way down the hill, past a row of tall, pale trees with wide trunks. She was suddenly quite aware of the ache in her fingers, and it filled her with shame.
Why did I…?
Before they fell out of view, she caught the smile he gave the queen when he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Elsa looked up at him and laughed. She rested her head against his shoulder, just as Felicity had often done in the past, and that same spark of anger came back to her. Only now it wasn't just a spark, it swelled and burned.
That night after she'd spied them kissing in the gallery, Felicity had convinced herself that they'd probably been too drunk to realize what they done. She had laid awake in her bed that night, the curtains wide open and the light of the blue moon flooding her chambers. The ticking of the mantle clock had been unbearably loud, even as it ticked in unison with her restless heart.
Sleep only came to her after she convinced herself of that lie. And come morning, when Felicity caught no meaningful looks or sideway glances between them, her conviction had been affirmed. But now, as Augustus and the queen disappeared from her sight beyond the trees, arms linked and Elsa's laughter resonating in over the wind, she felt something crack inside.
And then the ground rumbled softly beneath her, and the tremor slowly made its way toward the line of trees, shaking the snow along the path of footprints. An inexplicable deep crack split across the row of trees, bringing one of them crashing down.
Eugene and Rapunzel rush up to the fallen tree and called out to Augustus and Elsa.
"I don't see them, do you?" Rapunzel asked her husband after she'd made her way around the fallen tree.
Eugene hunched down and scanned past the trees, then pointed down the hill. Elsa and Augustus had already cleared their way to the bottom and clearly hadn't felt or heard the ground shake when the tree collapsed into the snow.
Kristoff whistled loudly.
"You think it was lightning?" He wondered out loud, but the dubious look in Anna's eyes as she studied the odd cracks on the neighboring trees showed that she was unconvinced.
In the minutes that passed, Felicity hadn't moved. In fact, she hadn't flinched when the tree had struck the ground. She had only heard a loud cracking from within, extending through her limbs and down her spine, and splintering inside her chest.
Why her? She wanted to scream. Why not me?
Such a disappointment, her mother's voice cut across her thoughts mockingly. She remembered failed lessons from long ago, trying to turn a spinning wheel with sheer will alone from the other end of the room. But each attempt was simply another notch to add to the mountain of failure.
Her mother may have forsaken her as a disappointment, but at least she still had Augustus.
But he was never really yours, the small voice belonging to her younger self whispered in her thoughts. It was the tear-strained voice of the neglected girl that still lived inside her. A girl who still wanted her mother's love, who only ever saw her father when she stood formally alongside her parents in greeting whenever they received nobles and politicians. She was seen, but never heard.
But Augustus listened. And so did the little blue-eyed crow that used to visit at her window every morning, leaving her buttons and shiny rocks for the pieces of bread she left for him on the balcony. He used to listen to her too, until an especially bad winter took him away from her one day.
Every inch of her ached. As much as she wanted it, she couldn't will her feelings away. She couldn't pretend to believe in the lie. Jealousy ran deeper than any fiction she could tell herself. Jealousy was a malevolent dragon. And it was seething with fiery breath within her breaking and hollowing heart.
...to be continued...
Author's Note: I originally intended this to be a part of chapter 8, but now I see that it works better as a short stand-alone chapter. Sorry, I know it's not the chapter you guys were hoping for.
The Gag Reel for this chapter was a little too long, so I linked it in my profile.
