A/N: So, it's been a million years but here is another chapter at last. I apologize for this having taken so long but better late than never, right? I can't promise that the next few chapters will be posted soon, but I can promise that they WILL be posted. Thank you all for your patience and taking your time out to read the silly musings of my brain. Hope you guys enjoy these two new posts!

Shout out to my bad ass beta flubbergutter for her awesome and time consuming work editing this fic!

SEVEN

Part 3

Elsa felt heavy. Her very bones seemed to have increased in density as the day dragged on. Though she'd done no more than sit in her chair all day, she was exhausted: her movements, slight as they might be, were sluggish, weary. She had listened all day as people recalled some of her worst memories, every reinterpretation of events mounting on her shoulders and adding to gravity's hold on her. For a moment, she wondered whether she would ever be able to shake the weight off.

Kristoff and Anna's testimonies had almost pushed her past her limits. Until now, she had managed to remain sufficiently detached from everyone else's testimonies. As secondary witnesses, their accounts were all somewhat vague and lacking in important details.

But when Kristoff and Anna—the only other two witnesses who, like her, had not only viewed but partaken in the events that occurred on the frozen fjord—sat in the witness stand and told their own version of the events, she once again felt herself thrown in the midst of that wild winter. She saw once again everything play out through her own eyes. So precise were their words, so true to everything she'd experienced herself, that Elsa had only been able to snap out of the reverie projected into her mind by the crackling of the coat of ice that wrapped and thickened around the armrests of her chair.

She could only breathe a small sigh of relief when Prince Jon announced there was only one witness left to testify. But just as quickly as the relief had washed over her, it lifted again. With a fresh batch of nerves that roused her from her state of deadweight, she realized that she was that last witness.

Before Prince Jon could call her to the stand by name, Gregor stood from his chair, interrupting the process and for a moment pausing the ripple of nerves that coursed through her.

"Jon, if I may," he began. "I have one more witness I'd like to call to the stand before we continue."

"Our list of witnesses for the day is complete, Gregor. I'm afraid there's no time for last minute testimonies."

Unperturbed, Gregor simply clasped his hands in front of him and proceeded, "Yes, I agree that this is all very last minute, but during my research for the case I came upon some valuable information that I feel sheds some light into areas of the story we haven't heard before. We really wouldn't want those present here today to feel like they haven't heard all they need to hear."

Prince Jon surveyed the audience cautiously from beneath his brows, as if weighing how much they would read into this exchange. "I'm sorry. It's just not possible. Queen Elsa is our next witness and I really wouldn't want to keep her waiting."

"No, of course not," said Gregor and for the smallest fraction of a second Elsa thought he might actually stand down. Instead, he turned his eyes towards her and said tentatively, "But if Her Majesty didn't mind…"

"Gregor—" Prince Jon began to protest.

"I don't," said Elsa, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them. She felt Prince Jon's hard stare on her face and forcefully ignored it. "I don't mind at all."

A short moment of silence filled the courtroom as Prince Jon deliberated, a muscle conspicuously twitching at his jaw. At last he replied, but not without an impatient and notable sharp edge to his voice, "Fine—call your witness."

"Thank you." Though it seemed that he might have been speaking to Prince Jon, it was Elsa whom Gregor looked at as he spoke.

Gregor left the High Council's corner and stepped onto the open floor across which Prince Josef had treaded all day long. Josef now looked at him quizzically.

"As this is my witness, I believe it is my right to examine him. You may feel free to chime in from the High Council's corner. If you want, you may even use my chair. I left it quite warm for you," said Gregor.

The audience clearly saw the humor in Gregor's comment as a few chuckles and giggles erupted simultaneously across the large room. By the sneer on Prince Josef's face as he passed Gregor, Elsa could see he clearly did not care for his brother's comedy.

"Very well," said Gregor, facing the audience. "For our next witness, I would like to call Officer Jenssen."

From the very last bench, all the way at the back of the courtroom, a man wearing the official forest green uniform of Arendelle's guards stood. The wooden pews creaked as torsos and heads began to turn slowly and curiously in his direction. Officer Jenssen made his way to the front of the courtroom, removing his hat and first bowing to Prince Jon, the High Council, and to the people seated in the witness corner before approaching the witness stand.

Elsa recognized his face. She had seen it often around her own palace, knew he'd been part of the guard that had come with her to the Southern Isles, but had very little recollection of any interaction with him. She had delegated the duty of overseeing the guards to Kai, who in turn reported any new developments to her. To say she was confused was an understatement: Elsa could hardly begin to imagine what sort of business Gregor could have with one of her own guards.

Hans seemed just as baffled as she did. He looked to Gregor for answers. Elsa followed his gaze and found that Gregor suddenly radiated a sort of energy that rejuvenated him. He had gained a newfound confidence that lit up his face in a way that Elsa hadn't known until now.

As she looked from one brother to the other, Elsa thought she could detect that silent communication between siblings that she and Anna already knew so well. One seemed to ask, "What are you up to?" while the other seemed to say, "Just trust me."

That Gregor seemed to have something up his sleeve which even Hans didn't know anything about rekindled the flame of curiosity in her. In spite of the dread and anxiety the testimonies had instilled in her all day, she sat up straighter, her attention refreshed and tuned acutely to Gregor.

Officer Jenssen took the stand and Gregor turned to him. "Please raise your right hand and state your full name."

"Officer Lars Jenssen."

As Gregor continued with the swearing in, Elsa's focus was disrupted for a moment by a feeling that tugged at her insides like a child tugging at his mother's skirt for attention. She had the odd sensation that there was something she was supposed to know or remember about Officer Jenssen, but she couldn't begin placing her finger on it.

"Officer Jenssen," Gregor began, "you were present the night of the attacks of North Mountain, is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness," said Jenssen.

"Could you please tell us, in your own words, what happened that night?"

"Yes, of course." He shifted in his seat slightly and his eyes seemed to search the room, finding focus, his eyebrows meeting in the center thoughtfully. Elsa couldn't see below the barrier around the witness stand, but from the slight movement of his arms she could tell he was fidgeting with his hat in his hands. She found herself envying this, and wondered briefly what it would be like to have a nervous tick that could easily be channeled into an insignificant object, instead of the explosive and deadly form her own nerves took whenever her emotions were heightened.

"Well," Officer Jenssen began. "Princess Anna had been gone all day after having left the night before in search of her sister Queen Elsa. She'd left Prince Hans in charge and we were helping him tend to the people of Arendelle. The winter that had come down upon us was vicious and everyone was quite unprepared…"

Her curiosity dimmed a little as Officer Jenssen mentioned the disastrous winter that had almost destroyed her beloved kingdom. She turned her gaze down, just as she had every single time another one of the witnesses had brought it up. Whether her people were still holding her responsible for almost obliterating the whole nation or not didn't matter—she felt guilty enough on her own to feel the shame for the rest of her life.

"It was at that time that Princess Anna's horse came running out of nowhere without Her Highness and everyone took great concern, Prince Hans included. He asked for volunteers to help find her. I was the first to volunteer, so he put me in charge of preparing our men for the trip. Some of the other guards and myself suited up and we set off for the North Mountain. He asked me to ride alongside him and be his guide, as I was far more familiar with the land than he was.

"We traveled all day, but it wasn't until late evening that we came upon an ice castle. It was like nothing we had ever seen before, so it was safe to assume it was where Her Majesty was hiding. Prince Hans gave us instructions to find the Princess and that no harm should come to the Queen."

"Did Prince Hans said that?" asked Gregor.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Those very words?" Gregor pressed on.

"Yes, Your Highness."

An undisputable glimmer shone in Gregor's eyes. "Proceed."

Elsa glanced at Hans from the corner of her eye. He seemed once again to be mostly apathetic, otherwise surrounded by a general air of hopelessness. It was hard to imagine him mustering any actual concern for her life that night—that the stone-cold man that stood only paces from her could at any point in time truly have had her best interests at heart. Why Gregor would think that it mattered that Hans had said that no harm should come to her, she didn't know. To her, it was simply more proof that Hans was an exceptional actor.

"A great beast arose from the snow. At least twenty feet tall and strong as an army all on its own. A creation from the Queen, I suppose, to dissuade us from going any further. It put up a good fight—Prince Hans himself was almost a casualty of that attack. Luckily, we managed to defeat it."

Her attention snapped back to Officer Jenssen. The previous shame she had felt returned, trickling cold inside her. The irony wasn't lost on her that just as she had been mentally condemning Hans once more, she was again reminded of her own abrasive missteps when attempting to defend herself.

"So we went up into the castle and that was when we encountered the Queen battling two of the Duke's—sorry—the ex-Duke's guards," Jenssen continued.

"Can you describe the scene as you remember it?" asked Gregor.

"Well, the Queen had her back to us, but with her hands—or not with her actual hands per se, but with the, uh, force emitted from her hands," Jenssen raised his own hands above the barrier holding them out at his sides, fingers spread out, "she was keeping one guard pinned against the wall with icicles and with the other hand—"

Officer Janssen threw a quick guarded glance in Elsa's direction.

"Go on," said Gregor.

Officer Jenssen's Adam's apple shifted as he fixated his gaze on a vague point in front of him. "Well, the other guard was about to be, uh, pushed off the edge of the broken down balcony…"

Elsa turned her gaze down to her lap. The other guard was about to be pushed off… Officer Jenssen's use of the passive voice did nothing to alleviate her own self-torment. He could phrase it any way he wanted to; she would always be the subject in everyone's mind when recalling that moment—particularly and most poignantly in her own.

"Anything else?" asked Gregor.

Officer Jenssen's brow creased as if he were in pain. "Well, Her Majesty seemed determined, just from what I could see…"

"Determined to what?"

Elsa squeezed one hand in the other.

"For what it's worth," Officer Jenssen said before answering Gregor's question, "I think she was acting in self-defense. I think anyone with the same amount of power who found themselves in the same position and was tired of feeling persecuted would have wanted to end it all, by any means available."

There was a short moment of silence in which everyone awaited Gregor's follow up question and Elsa listened to her own short breaths.

"Are you saying that's what Queen Elsa was attempting to do?" Gregor finally asked. "Do you believe she wanted to end the Duke's guards?"

Elsa suddenly understood. This was Gregor's tactic. He was going to take her off the victim pedestal and expose her to everyone as no better than a criminal—no better than Hans. Once the people saw how easily it was to get carried away by a surge of desperation and power, once they understood that even Elsa could be capable of murder, they would have to forgive Hans.

And yet, at the very cusp of being branded a heartless would-be murderer, Elsa couldn't find it in her to hate Gregor. After all, he wasn't wrong.

Officer Jenssen gave no more than a half nod.

Before proceeding, Gregor stopped a moment to catch Elsa's eye. She in turn found no viciousness there, no trace of smugness. Instead the same old gentle and patient lines she'd known from that first night settled into his weary expression. Though it surprised her, she thought she understood: she was wrong; he wasn't there to judge her.

"What stopped her?" Gregor said, turning back to Officer Jenssen.

"His Highness, Prince Hans, spoke to her. He said something like… 'You're not a monster,' or, 'Don't be the monster they think you are'—I'm sorry, I don't remember precisely; it all happened so fast…"

It may not have been clear to Officer Jenssen, but the memory flashed in Elsa's mind as fresh as if it had just occurred. She remembered the way the chaos in her mind had quieted down, how the burning rage inside her melted away, the haziness of her vision coming back into focus.

He had done that. When her own sister had failed in bringing her back to herself, he had succeeded. She had never quite stopped to wonder why until now. Perhaps she had avoided the question for fear of the answer. It was shameful to admit, now, that back then the sound of his voice had been trigger enough to soothe her nerves.

"Her Majesty ceased. If you ask me, when she turned around she looked frightened. Tired, even. Later we found but those two guards had gone up there with orders from the Duke of Wesselton to kill her…"

"What happened after she desisted?" Gregor pressed.

"One of the Duke's guards—the one pinned to the wall with icicles—he made one last attempt to shoot his crossbow at the Queen but Prince Hans stopped him. He ran over to him and managed to push the crossbow out of the way just in time. But then the arrow instead hit the rod of the chandelier above and it came crashing down, almost killing Her Majesty."

She listened in a sort of daze, as if he were narrating scenes from a story she'd heard as a child but had forgotten over time. The images came up as if from a dream she'd once had—a voice without sound seemed to whisper inside her head…

A shower of crystals.

Gregor nodded. "What happened after the chandelier fell?"

"Honestly, we thought Her Majesty was dead. She was passed out amid a sea of glass. His Highness Prince Hans forbid anyone to touch her and instead approached her himself. He…" Officer Jenssen squinted at his memory. "He kneeled beside her and checked for a pulse. After a second, he announced that she was still alive and ordered Arendelle's guards to seize the Duke's guard, and ordered me to gather our troop for the trip back."

Gregor was staring fixedly at the floor. Though his furrowed brow hinted at him being in deep concentration, something about his vague fixation on the floor, of all things, seemed to say that he wasn't particularly impressed with Officer Jenssen's story. Or at least, that he wasn't there for the purpose of listening to it himself, but to ensure everyone else did. He was simply there to get the ball rolling.

"What else?" he prodded.

"His Highness picked the Queen up from the floor, and sternly rejected any offer for help. Once outside, he asked me to help him pull Queen Elsa onto his horse. He made it quite clear that he wasn't going to allow anyone near her. I suppose after what happened with the Duke's guards, he didn't trust anyone else. So he carried her the whole way himself."

Elsa's head snapped in his direction.

"That's how we made the whole trip back. We were exhausted, numb from the cold, starving, our horses moving slowly—but His Highness wouldn't allow us to stop. He was determined to make it back by morning. So we treaded all night through fields of complete whiteness, dense with snow, most of our lamps gone out—"

As Officer Jenssen continued, fragmented visions kept flashing in her mind faster and faster each time…

An endless white landscape. A horse's mane.

"But His Highness never once complained. Never once asked for help. He trudged on as steadily as the rest of us, perhaps even more determined than the rest of us, carrying the unconscious queen with him… I suppose he felt accountable and so he made it his responsibility to get Her Majesty back to the palace as safe as possible."

A firm surface, warm and gray, on which she rested her head.

Her lips grew cold, numb.

"When we were back at the castle, he ordered the Duke's guards to be detained until he could get to the bottom of their actions. In the meantime, he carried the Queen to another cell, the Duke himself and the Dignitaries following him, though keeping their distance, as if His Highness were carrying some form of delicate explosive in his arms and not a woman made of flesh and blood."

There was a slight biting edge to his tone, as if Jenssen were seizing his one chance to snap back at the higher authorities and their prejudices. Under any other circumstances, Elsa would have appreciated Officer Jenssen's small gesture, but as it was, her mind was too laden with confusion to properly acknowledge it.

"He ordered me to bring him a blanket and a pillow to the Queen's cell, which I did. I ran into the castle and asked one of the servants to fetch it for me, and then ran back to the cell and handed it to Prince Hans, who was in the middle of a heated discussion with the Duke."

Gregor at last looked up, hands clasped at his back. He asked as casually and naturally as if Jenssen had been doing no more than reciting his multiplication tables. Such was his confidence at that moment that his follow up question might as well have been "And what is two times four?" knowing full well neither he nor Jenssen could get the answer wrong.

"And what was the discussion about?"

"I believe the Duke was furious that he'd brought Her Majesty back. He seemed scared, although, of what exactly I'm not sure, seeing as Her Majesty remained unconscious and the worst she had done was bring winter out of time. Prince Hans rebuked him and reminded him that she was still the Queen, and that he wasn't about to go against Princess Anna's orders."

Elsa's heart seemed to be simultaneously pounding both too fast and too slowly.

"After I handed Prince Hans the things he had asked for, he dismissed me. I went back to my regular post and I knew no more until the winter was over."

"Thank you, Jenssen," said Gregor. And turning in Elsa's direction, at last with the complacent smile she had been anticipating, he said, "That will be all."

"Gregor," said Prince Jon harshly, "would you care to explain what the point of this is? Because it seems to me like you've just wasted a great deal of our time."

Gregor turned to Prince Jon calmly, but when he spoke his voice dripped with disdain. "I'm sorry, what about this young officer's testimony are you having trouble understanding? The part where Prince Hans saved Queen Elsa from death once or the part where he took good enough care of her to return her to Arendelle in one piece? Was it perhaps the part where it is obvious Prince Hans had not intended to murder the Queen until he saw no other way out of the winter that was slowly burying Arendelle alive?"

"For Heaven's sakes, this man's testimony proves nothing!" Jon cried.

Prince Josef echoed the sentiment. "It proves absolutely nothing."

"It proves that Prince Hans did not attempt premeditated murder. His actions were an act of desperation!"

Prince Gregor, Prince Jon and Prince Josef continued to argue while Elsa sat unmoving at the witness corner, stoic, trapped in a trance she couldn't snap out of.

Hans's voice echoed through her mind, crisp and tangible, as if he were speaking the words to her right in that moment.

"It was never meant to be this complicated."

A reel of visions flashed across her mind faster than she could keep up: The chandelier falling; blurry white glimpses of a snow covered landscape; the bright yellow mane of Sitron weaving in and out of sight. His soft gray coat, warm and fuzzy against her cheek. And the touch—the fingers she could still feel so vividly yet so gently tracing her skin.

It wasn't until Officer Jenssen was dismissed and Prince Jon had called her to the witness stand that she was able to move, still in a fluid state of delirium.

As she crossed paths with the officer, an impulsive whim made her catch him by the arm. The rusty wheel of an old forgotten memory finally clicked into place.

Officer Jenssen bowed his head. "Your Majesty."

It was only now that Elsa realized how shallowly she was breathing.

"What did you say your name was?" she asked him.

"Jenssen, Your Majesty," the young man replied.

"No," she said. "Your given name."

"Lars, Your Majesty. Just Lars."

Elsa only released him because her fingers around his arm had gone limp. She hardly noticed as Lars bowed once more and continued on his way. She was caught by the sudden stirring of feelings inside her, which she had never quite felt coalesce: her state was one of shock, and incredulity. But most prominently she felt as though something like a burst of dazzling bright lights was flashing into her mind, blinding her but at the same time filling her up with an unexpected warmth she had only felt once before in what she had believed to have been a dream.