I see you guys are upset, and honestly I'm glad that you do. Because that means the purpose of the last chapter has been fulfilled, I'm happy that it can make you guys sad lol.

One thing I want to address though, as there is this one review that kinda upset me, please do not treat Anna in such a bad way by telling that we 'do not need her reproducing and filling the world with airheads', that's... kinda hits below the belt. Because I relate to Anna to a degree more than I do with Elsa, so I kinda take that to a personal level. She's not dumb, she's not an airhead, she can be careless and act before she thinks it through, but she's not stupid.

But anyway, this chapter is based from a prompt that I got from a friend so... enjoy!

It was perfect.

Their life together.

After every up and down, every happiness and every sorrow that they have gone through, the moment he put the golden band around her finger was the moment she felt she truly belonged.

He ruled along her side, accompany her to every meeting and every royal visit, advise her and stand by her side in time of need.

When she found out that she was with child, it only got better.

A little boy was born in the name of Prince Wilhem of Arendelle with warm auburn hair and clear blue eyes.

He was merely two when Hans was called for battle, a war to defend their kingdom and to protect his family.

Arendelle won the war, but only Kristoff came home that night.

She felt numb then, felt nothing but coldness in her heart and the tips of her fingers. She shed no tears; no expression on her face during the burial, her son in her arms was the only thing keeping her grounded to this world.

Every time she looked at her young Prince, she saw him. Her eyes, yes, but everything else were Hans.

His side of bed was cold and empty, and she couldn't sleep.

So she brought Wilhem with her every night, held him close to her chest, stroked his hair and hummed until he was asleep.

He was so peaceful, innocent and unknowing, her light in the darkness of time.

When she closed her eyes, it was the first time that she dreamt of the royal's garden.

Everything was bright and light, flowers blooming and a royal blue butterfly fluttered by.

It was spring.

It was the same time and place when he-

"I proposed to you here, didn't I?"

He was there, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a sad smile on his face.

"You did." Somehow she found her voice to speak even when she thought she couldn't.

He came to sit beside her on the stone bench, his back hunched forward as he rested his arms on his thighs, head turning to the side to look at her.

"How are you?"

Such a common question, something that many has asked her to, with concern and pity in their eyes that Elsa has grown slightly tired of hearing it.

"Holding up."

She didn't mean the tint of bitterness in her voice, or the vague answer that was barely a sentence at all, but it was really what summarized what she felt.

His brows furrowed but with a quiet sigh he brushed it off, understanding that his wife could sometimes unable to exactly put what she felt into words, and that sometimes she didn't want a subject to be pressed further.

"What's Wilhem being up to lately?"

The corner of her lips tugged into a smile at the thought of their son, he was the one thing that could make the Queen smiled the most lately, with his wide eyes and wide smile, his giggles and his chubby cheeks as he toyed with his mother's braid.

"He doesn't like to stay at one place for long." She took him everywhere, hugged him close whenever she goes and held him on her lap during meetings, unable to part with the young Prince. "He... looks so much like you."

Again with that sad smile on his face, though now there was also splashed of relief in his expression. "I'm glad that he can be there for you."

"Why are you here?" It has been nagging at the back of her mind, the question and the curiosity to know.

"To see you." He shrugged, taking her hand in his, his thumb caressing her knuckles the way he always did. "Elsa, you can't keep this up any longer."

Her brows furrowed in confusion over his words, the sudden vague request that she could not understand. "What are you saying?"

"You, being so detached." His other hand reached up to ran over the side of her face, settling on her jaw. "My Queen, you have to let me go."

And then it clicked in her.

What he meant when he spoke, what he wanted her to do, and after connecting the dots with what she had been doing after his death, all the emotions drained from her face and her constant silence even when she was with Anna, she understood.

She had been grieving for far too long and for far too deep that she had slowly detached herself from her own family.

"I... I lost you." It was the first time she found difficulty to speak in this realm of dreams, her voice suddenly getting stuck in her throat. "I'm lost without you."

Again with that sad smile of his, Hans pulled her into his arms. Yet there was no familiar warmth of his body temperature, the one that had kept her warm all those years ago, there was only his body.

It was a mere shell of a man.

"I know, Elsa," he murmured against her hair, yet all she did was to frown at the lack of his scent that she loved so dearly. "I know it's hard, but you have to let me go." Her eyes fluttered as a tear ran down her cheek. "For Anna, for Wilhem... For me."

He could not rest until she fully let go, couldn't bear the thought of leaving his beloved wife so distraught before setting her mind back straight.

She nodded reluctantly as darkness slowly seeped into the picture of her dream, swallowing the royal's garden, eating up every plant and life as they closed around them.

"Goodbye, Elsa."

"... Goodbye, Hans."