Cyril wandered the halls alone; he didn't know what else to do. He felt stuck- stuck between so many different things. He was stuck between trusting and distrusting Ina, believing or not believing what Kristoff had told him . . . he wasn't even sure if he was fighting with Elise or not. She had apologized, and he had too . . . but then she had run off and told Ina about Tomas.
He let his hands brush along the wallpaper, the familiar feeling of the patterns dancing beneath his fingertips. He felt the carpet and wooden floorboards beneath his feet- the same floor he felt every day of his life. This place was home. His home- with his family, and possessions, and everything he ever knew. He hated to admit it, but he was considering leaving. It'd be so much easier if he left. He had no reason to stay- he was eighteen, an adult. He could make his own life somewhere. He wanted to make his own life somewhere. Why couldn't he?
Easy. Because he was scared. He was scared of leaving his family, the life he knew. How could he leave? He had a brother who needed him and a relationship with his sister he needed to fix. His uncle had just died for god's sake- he couldn't leave after something like that. Where would he go, anyway?
So, Cyril supposed that was another thing he was stuck in. Arendelle. He couldn't leave.
He balled one if his hands into a fist, and as he turned the corner he planned to send it through the wall. Only he was too surprised to do it. For in front of him in the hall was a wall of ice spikes, and on the other side was his aunt's door. Elsa would never do that . . . that could only mean one thing.
Ina did it.
Cyril turned on his heel and was running back down the hall faster than he thought he ever could. He should just let it go- he should just let her go. But he couldn't. For whatever reason, his instincts told him to stop her.
He turned the opposite way down the hall he had come, figuring that Ina couldn't have gone very far. When he got to the staircase, he took them two at a time (almost resulting in him tripping) and hit the main foyer. He whipped his head around, trying to determine where she'd go.
Why does it matter? Just go back upstairs! Cyril tried to yell at himself, but he couldn't seem to connect reason to actions. He saw that the door was open, and took off towards it. He pushed himself outside, and blinked into the sunlight.
Ina was there, huffing and puffing in the courtyard. She was staring at the gates, wide and open as they usually were. Cyril paused. He could tell- she was going to bolt.
"Ina!" He yelled, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther. She looked over her shoulder, her dark eyes cold and hard. As soon as her eyes landed on him, she grimaced. Then she turned.
Cyril was running after her as soon as she looked away, and he was admittedly much faster than her. He caught up almost immediately, and managed to get in front of her before she reached the gates.
"Ina, stop!" He held up his arms to block her, in case she tried to run past him. She was still huffing but raised her hands in what Cyril assumed was defence. He straightened his spine slightly, relaxing his posture. "You can't leave." He said after a second.
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. He didn't look like she was going to break down crying, like any other person would at the mention of their father passing away. She just looked angry. "Why? I'm sick of this family." She starred at him, as if trying to tell him she was sick of him. "All the secrets, and lies, and unfairness. I don't want any of it anymore." She kept her hands raised in front of her.
"Nobody thought to tell me about my Papa. No one thought I'd want to know first. I didn't hear it from my mother, and I didn't hear it from my brother." She suddenly curled her fingers, no longer defensive but offensive. "It's like I'm not part of this family. And I'd like to stop pretending I am."
Her eyes glanced over Cyril's shoulders out the gates. So that's what she wants, Cyril thought. To get out of our family. Is that really all she wants? "I hate to break it to you," He said; once again ready to block her. "But you're a part of this family weather you like it or not." He tried to soften his eyes, to get her to see reason, despite every nerve in his body telling him that she was beyond it. "Aunt Elsa needs you Ina. You can't leave her."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't bring her into this." She sidestepped, to get a better view at Arendelle outside the gates. Cyril stepped with her. Despite how much he felt like it'd be better if Ina moved on, if she went somewhere else and was happy, he knew he couldn't let her go. He had to at least try to make her stay in Arendelle- for Elsa's sake. Tom's too.
Suddenly she grinned, and placed her hands on her hips. "I suggest you move."
Before Cyril even had a chance to be confused about what she was saying, though everything that was happening was confusing him, Ina's hands once again shot out in front of her, and her powers along with it. A blast of wind hit him, but not as hard as the sudden ice sheet that collided into his shoulder.
Cyril yelped out in pain, but Ina didn't stop the ice. Cyril was pushed back by the sheet, until he lost his footing. Even then, Ina didn't stop. She continued pushing her power, pushing him, until he managed to roll out of its path.
Cyril's shoulder was throbbing, but he didn't suspect it was broken or dislocated. Bruised, maybe. Ina was now in between him and the gates, and she was watching him. He was sure now- Ina wasn't to be trusted. She could have killed him- and it wasn't even accidental. Cyril stared at her- still too stunned to follow. He did, however, force himself to his feet.
"You want to leave." Cyril forced himself to stammer, not meaning it as a question, but a statement.
Ina shook her head. Cyril could picture her as a five-year-old again, young but with the same presence of . . . well, Ina-ness. Her stubborn, unpredictable personality that had just been passed off as regular childish behavior then. Cyril remembered when he had been playing with her and accidently broke her toy. Despite how many times he apologized, she had still shaken her head and stormed from the room.
That was how he saw it now- no matter how much he tried to talk her out of running away, he knew he couldn't stop her. He didn't know why he thought he could. Her forcefulness, not even accounting for her powers, made her as unstoppable as a storm wind.
"You have no idea what I want." She hissed. Then she started running.
She had just lost her father. She just handles grief different then everyone. Cyril tried to reason with himself. Let her go.
But he didn't listen to his own brain. He took off after her, forcing his pained shoulder to pump his arms faster. Ina glanced over her shoulder as she ran. She had reached the gates by then, and whipped around to face her fast approaching cousin.
"Just leave me alone." She whispered. She pointed her hands at the bottom of the gates, and her powers shot out to meet it. Ice spikes, like the ones Cyril had seen in the hallway, grew from the spot; and as Ina raised her hands, the spikes got larger. Cyril skidded to a stop and starred at the growing ice wall.
It didn't take him long to realize what was going on. Ina was blocking off the gates.
As the ice grew, Ina was soon blocked completely from view. Only her morphed image through the frozen ice could be seen.
"Ina! Stop- what are you doing!?" Cyril yelled to her. She didn't respond, but Cyril was positive she had heard him. She didn't let the spikes grow to completely fill the gates, but instead stopped them a little over halfway. Far too high for anyone to climb, but with enough open space that it taunted those stuck inside.
Cyril gasped, and watched as Ina's distorted shape through the ice get smaller as she ran in the opposite direction. He stumbled backwards and panted hard. He could hardly process what had happened.
For whatever reason, Ina didn't want to be found.
The guards had alerted Kristoff about the situation as soon as they managed to find him. They couldn't give him a lot of information, as they didn't actually know what happened. All that they knew was that Ina had blocked off the main gates, Cyril was standing shell shocked by them, and Ina had disappeared.
It wasn't hard to understand why they had come to him with this instead of Elsa.
When Kristoff made it to the courtyard, he was as surprised as the guards were. They had already begun hacking away at the ice with picks by the time he arrived, and Cyril was still standing where the guard had described him to be.
Cyril looked odd standing there- a mix of shock, confusion and fear dancing across his features. His golden hair was picked up in the light wind, pulling it towards the gates.
"Cy," Kristoff mumbled, clasping one of his son's shoulders. The boy hissed in pain, breaking from his paralyzed state of shock, and grabbed at the shoulder Kristoff had just touched. Kristoff's hand hovered in the air for a moment, before dropping it back to his side.
Cyril rubbed at his sore arm, and turned to look at his father. "Ina found out." He gushed, not even waiting for Kristoff to actually ask what happened. "Elle told her. She froze the hallway by Aunt Elsa's room, and then I followed her out here-"
"What," Kristoff held up his hands to slow his son. "Elise told Ina about Tomas? When she . . ." He drowned off, realizing that it had been himself who stopped Cyril from going after Elise- from preventing her to tell Ina. "Oh no."
Cyril bobbed his head in a way that Sver probably would have. "I know. And then she came out here, and I was trying to convince her to stay. She was angry- she said she didn't want to be a part of our family. When I tried to block the gates from her, she hit me with an ice sheet." The young man gestured at his injured arm, and then over his shoulder to where the ice had collided with the stone wall.
Kristoff rubbed his forehead with his hand and sighed. This was bad. This was really, really bad.
"And after she hit me . . ." Cyril pointed at the thin gates, still blocked by the ice. It would take quite some time to get it cleared. Kristoff groaned, and rubbed his bare arms. Goosebumps had risen due to the cold breeze, and his hair stood on edge. Why was he so cold?
His stomach dropped. It was July- it did not get this cold within a few minutes. That could only mean one thing.
Oh no.
Kristoff and Cyril's eyes met- panic flickering between them. The winter that Grand Pabbie had warned them about- the one Ina was going to cause. Was it starting? Cyril stepped towards his father, trying to warm his own arms as well. "She's-"
He never got a chance to finish, as both men were soon distracted by a single, perfect snowflake flutter down in the breeze, and land in Cyril's hair.
Sver sat cross-legged on his bed, with Elise sitting on the floor. She had come to his room with tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes, but hadn't admitted to crying. She had tried to explain a little about death to him, about what had happened to Tomas. He didn't mention Kristoff had already given him this lecture, and instead stayed quiet until she was done talking.
Sver sniffled. He had cried a little too, but he didn't admit it. Even though it was just his sister, whom had been crying to and who would have comforted him, he didn't want to tell her. He really just wanted his Mama, but she was busy with Aunt Elsa. Even his father had disappeared to go talk to Cyril.
Finally, the seven-year-old dared to speak up after a long moment of silence. "Did you tell her? Ina, I mean?"
Elise glanced up at him, blinking in surprise. How had Sver known? She thought she had blocked him from knowing about everything going on with their cousin- but she guessed she was wrong. She tucked a piece of hair from one of her braids behind her ear and straightened her spine.
"Yeah. I told her. She deserved to know."
Sver nodded, but he still didn't look convinced. "I thought Papa said they were going to wait until Auntie Elsa knew." He added, his voice small and innocent. Elise smiled weakly at him. She really loved her baby brother. She didn't argue with him like she did with Cyril, and he was the only kid in the family younger than her. She liked having someone to look up to her- to be a role model.
"I know Sev, and I should have waited," She admitted. "But Ina has the right to know."
Sver fell back against his pillows and let out a puff of air. "What do you think Ina's going to do when she finds out?" He asked, curiousity coloring his tone. He still held a bit of the quietness that accompanied his sadness, but wondering about Ina seemed to distract him enough for it to be almost unnoticeable.
Elise shrugged, and tugged on one of her braids. "I really have no idea. But I guess we'll find out."
The two were oblivious to the clouds that had begun forming above the sky, or snowflakes that were beginning to fall outside their window.
So originally, Cyril trying to convince Ina to stay was going to be a lot more confrontational then it turned out to be- ie: then were going to fight longer and worse. I didn't think it fit as well as I wanted it to, so thus it was dulled to this.
I don't know why, but I can imagine Sver as being a kid who'd be really obsessed with spiderman or something if he existed in current time.
Remember- you can start applying for the contest on Monday! Please join the contest, I'd appreciate it, and go look at the prize list on my last AN if you haven't yet! Okay, I'll post again soon- bye!
