My beautiful Frozen DVD was delivered right on the release date and I am so happy. Amazon, for once you didn't screw me over. Thank you so much and I shall shop more when I have money. Haha!

So here we are, part 2 of Prince Thomas' story. He had just fallen for a girl named Rose (who looks a lot like Elsa hmmm interesting).

Warning- Extreme feels near the middle of this chapter.

Ooh, guess what? I have a Deviantart account you should totally check out. Why? BECAUSE I POSTED THOMAS'S PICTURE UP THERE INSTEAD. The one I put on Tumblr got swallowed by my reposts so this seemed easier. My deviant name is on my profile on this website so go see the adorkable photo of my OC. I might draw Bernard for you guys but I dunno.

Disclaimer: Disney owns FROZEN

What made this relationship ten times better was the fact that his mother approved. She never had any problems with those of the lower class so she welcomed Rose into the castle with open arms. Thomas had persuaded Rose to come with him to the castle in order to meet his family, although she had been very tentative because she was afraid that the royals wouldn't accept a romance between upper class and lower middle class. But Rose found herself mistaken when she was graced with warm smiles from all the staff members and the royal family themselves.

She was served the best chocolates in the country, called "Lady Rose" by the servants, and even met the King and Queen. She had curtsied rather awkwardly when she was introduced to them by the King's bed, for he was still ill. She stammered out the most polite introduction she could and soon found herself in a gentle embrace by the Queen herself.

"You're quite welcome in our home, love," the Queen told her sweetly. "Thomas has told us all about you."

Thomas pouted and his face turned a light shade of pink. Rose giggled as she stepped out of the hug, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, rest assured I will do my best to live up such expectations and tall tales, your Majesty," she said, elbowing Thomas in the ribs.

He laughed. "Rose, I've told them the absolute truth about you," he said.

"Then I must really work hard to raise expectations," Rose quipped.

The Queen smiled and nodded her head at her husband. "I like this one. She's full of wit. A princess would need such wit," she whispered to him.

"Hm… if Peter cleans up his act, she would not need the skills one requires to be a princess," the King replied quietly. "But we shall see. As long as Thomas is happy…" He trailed off, leaving it obvious to the Queen he was fond of Rose already.

George, who was a spry age of eleven, took quite a liking to this new friend. Whenever Rose would join Thomas at the palace, she would make time to play outdoors or feed the horses in the royal stables with him. Always telling him folk tales and how each story had a moral. George had heard them a million times over but he preferred that Rose speak about them, for her voice was something like a soothing bell to his ears.

The servants loved her around. She was so polite to them as they went by or delivered meals to her at the dinner table. When her parents came to visit, she made sure that the servants were properly introduced by first name and was ever so kind to their kids. Rose was the picture of perfection and looked forward to every visit she had with the boy with whom she was courting.

Thomas found himself deeply infatuated with her but kept holding back in blurting out that he loved her. There was a time and a place, he told himself, and moving too fast could scare her away just like it had that servant girl three years ago. That was nothing but a past mistake that he made and he had no intention on making it again.

Rose was different and worth waiting for.

She attended balls, danced with him beautifully in flowing dresses and flowers in her hair. She smelled like lilacs— rather than roses funnily enough— and managed to make the pained King laugh when he was feeling rather low.

The only person that wasn't happy with this new girl was Peter. He avoided her at every cost when she came around the palace, holing himself up in the study and reading. He would glare Thomas out of the room when he showed his face, announcing her arrival. Thomas was getting so annoyed with his attitude, too, and wanted to confront him about these cynical views towards Rose.

"I dunno why you're so touchy about her being around us," Thomas said critically as he stood in the stuffy library one afternoon.

Peter was on one of the ladders, trying to look for a brand new book to read. He glanced down at his brother for a fleeting moment before continuing his hunt for literature.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about," was Peter's reply.

"You're a prat," Thomas told him bluntly. "She really wants to talk to you and get to know you. She knows everybody in this castle but you. It's really rude how you just push her away."

"I don't trust her, then. Happy?"

"Don't… Don't trust her?"

"No."

"Why?"

"She's a girl from the bloody village, Thomas, that you just so happened to fall head over heels for. She's around our family and father, who I may need to remind you is incredibly sick. One day, when you're not courting her anymore, it's going to happen again and you will be too baffled to realize reality," Peter said, finally spotting a book and climbing down. "Family first, is your motto, yeah? But now that you've found Rose, you can't make legible thought. The trouble is, you don't know how to think for yourself when there are others around you who take up your thinking space."

"I do so!" Thomas protested, cracking his knuckles. "I'll send a right punch in your jaw to show you how well I can think."

"That didn't even make sense," Peter grunted. "Whatever the case, it's not going to last."

"I don't understand why you're so against her!" Thomas finally yelled, stepping forward. "She's so sweet to everyone around her and I know she could blather on and on with you about reading because, believe it or not, she's very literate."

"Brilliant for her."

Thomas glared at Peter as he moved towards one of the armchairs, cracking open his new book and sinking into it. There was silence for a good two minutes and when Thomas saw that his brother wasn't going to make a move, he grumbled a good swear under his breath and stormed out.

"Child," Peter grumbled, shaking his head.

Two months later, Rose and Thomas were still going strong. Their affections were the light of the castle and the talk of the town. All the girls envied Rose for being in the handsome arms of Prince Thomas, who would openly kiss her on the streets and hold her close when they went on walks.

But their romance was found to be doomed one afternoon in the castle…

Rose was sitting at the dinner table with the family as they talked about the recent build in the economy, which the Queen was surprised that Rose knew anything about, when the young girl paused mid-sentence.

"Rose?" Thomas said, staring at her with a concerned expression. "Are you all right?"

She nodded but she started to cough into her napkin. George blinked and exchanged gapes with his mother. Thomas rested his hand over her back while Peter looked on with a vacant expression. Rose pulled back and widened her eyes at what she found in her napkin.

"What is it?" Thomas asked.

"N-nothing," Rose mumbled. "Nothing at all."

"Dear… is there a problem?" the Queen pressed.

"No, your Majesty," Rose stuttered.

"You can't keep secrets from the royal family," Peter growled. Thomas shot him a glare.

"It's nothing!" Rose cried, her cheeks flushing. "Please, excuse me." She got to her feet and ran out of the dining hall.

"Rose!" Thomas called as he ran after her.

He followed her trail until he found her leaning against the wall, coughing into her napkin violently. He rushed over to her and held her close until the coughing stopped. Then she started to cry. Thomas felt helpless and all he could do was rub circles in her back, soothing her the best he could.

"I knew… I knew this was going to happen," she whimpered into his green tail coat. "My mother is sick with it, as well… and she's not doing good." She hiccuped. "The doctors say she doesn't have long."

"Rose, what in the world are you talking about?" Thomas said, his voice cracking.

She held up her napkin with trembling hands. Upon the cloth was blood, shining a crimson red that made Thomas' heart clench painfully.

"Oh… oh my," he breathed. "Rose…"

"Please, Thomas, think nothing of it," she begged. "I haven't a clue how long it might go on or if anything should happen to me. Thomas, I'd like to spend as long as I have with you."

Thomas felt tears sting the back of his eyes but he nodded, pulling her into a huge hug.

"Of course, Rose." He screwed his eyes shut. "Are you going to… are you sure you're going to be all right at the moment?"

"Yes. I'll be okay," she said. "I'm sorry that I ran out like that."

"It's quite all right," he assured her. "Understandable, is what it is. And don't mind Peter. He's a complete prat."

She smiled weakly. "I've noticed."

And so Thomas did what he could to make Rose happy. He took her on long walks around the country— which turned out to be straining on her lungs and forced her to cough up disturbing amounts of blood. Instead, Thomas switched it to long rides in his carriage. She thoroughly appreciated his gestures, savoring each and every moment she had with him.

A few weeks after the revelation of Rose's tuberculosis, her mother passed away. It was very hard for her to cope with the loss and she was becoming more and more afraid of her own disease. Afraid of death. She even tried to stop seeing Thomas, lest he catch it as well. But he didn't care. He managed to persuade his mother and father in keeping her under the watchful eye of the family physician while her father took over the flower shop.

Peter was not happy with this new arrangement. The King was already ill and having another warm body take up the doctor's time away from him was not desirable. He and Thomas got into many rows about it, shouting back and forth in the library, away from eavesdroppers, and landed themselves in the care of the physician, ironically, with bumps, bruises, and cuts from their fights.

George kept Rose company regardless. He didn't care for the dangers of possibly catching the illness of the flower girl. In fact, he was rather fascinated with it, which was very funny to Rose. Every time she coughed, he would fire questions about it and she would roll her eyes with an endearing smile, explaining her sickness to him over again. It wasn't until Thomas caught him doing such things did George stop and apologized to Rose for bothering her.

After five months of being together— three months after she confided in being sick— Rose started to hemorrhage violently with each cough. It was getting worse and worse and Thomas was feeling his heart crack with each and every hack he heard. The physician gathered the family in the royal study— the King being well enough to walk around the castle for now— and delivered the dreadful news.

"It seems that Miss Rose doesn't have long now," the doctor said solemnly.

"No! No, no, there has to be something you can do," Thomas pleaded, his voice cracking.

"Thomas, darling—" the Queen began but he broke her off.

"She can't die! She just can't!" Thomas choked. "You're a doctor! Save her!"

"I'm sorry, your Highness, there is nothing I can do," the doctor said. "Believe me, if I could find a cure I would give it to her at once."

"…Rosie is gonna die?" George said, putting two and two together.

"I'm afraid so, son," the King confirmed sadly.

"But she's nice," George protested. "Nice people don't die."

Peter rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Thomas was shaking with a combination for fury and sorrow. He wanted to hit something, wanted to scream at the top of his voice, and wanted everything to just end. This girl he was falling deeper and deeper in love with was dying right before his eyes and he had no power to stop it.

He let out a strangled sob and stormed out of the study, ignoring his mother's calls after him. He drew his sword that was in his belt at all times and reached the training yard. He hacked a training dummy to pieces in order to get rid of his vindictive attitude.

Heavy footsteps came up from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to find his father standing in the middle of the yard.

"What?" Thomas spat.

"Oh, nothing," the King replied kindly. "I simply wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm bloody brilliant!" Thomas drawled, thrusting his sword to the ground, where it fell with a clatter. "Just brilliant! You know, Father, all I've done was be a good kid— the best person I could be. And all life does to me is turn me over and punch me." He kicked the training dummy and it fell over into the dirt.

"Yes… yes, life does that to us time to time," the King said good-naturedly. "It's a curse that everyone has."

"Why isn't life fair?" Thomas said, softer now, his tantrum dwindling down.

"I haven't the answer to that, son," the King said, approaching him. He bent down and picked up the sword, handing it over to Thomas. "All I can say is enjoy the time you have left with Rose. She's a special girl and is lucky to have someone as kind and loyal as you in her life. You have done nothing but be a fantastic person towards her. It's all she has now."

Thomas took the sword and looked up into his father's face. The King sighed heavily and encircled Thomas' shoulders with his arm, guiding him back to castle.

"Be with her, Thomas," the King advised. "And tell her before it's too late."

"Tell her what?" the prince asked, quirking a brow.

All the King did was smile sadly as they walked back inside. "Supper is almost ready, Thomas. Wash up, will you?"

Rose died a week later in Thomas' arms. She had been getting paler and paler as her illness dragged on. Thomas refused to leave her side that last week, taking his meals in the room and skipping his lessons. He had been trying to figure out what his father meant by telling her before it was too late, never coming up with a valid answer to the riddle.

It wasn't until Rose was white as snow did he realize what he had to say. With a weak and trembling hand, she reached up and rested it on his cheek.

"Are you… are you…" Thomas tried but he couldn't finish his sentence.

"I'm not afraid anymore," she croaked. "I'm not afraid… of death. I'll see my Mum again. My grandparents. There are many people who love me that are waiting." She gave him one last smile and whispered out her last words to him. "Thank you… for everything," she whimpered, two shining tears gliding down her frail face.

"Rose… I…" he choked but the light in her eyes faded. The smile was still blessing her deathly pale lips, her hand falling limp at her side. "I love you," Thomas finally admitted but he knew it was far too late.

He took her in one final embrace, his body wracking with sobs. The physician found them two minutes later, having heard the heartbreaking cry from the prince. Following shortly afterward was Peter, who understood the situation at once. He grabbed Thomas by the shoulders and tried to pull him away from the girl but his brother refused with irrational whining and shouting.

Peter finally managed to get Thomas out of the room as the King and Queen rushed inside to assist the physician with Rose, maids following them briskly. Thomas was reduced to a child, sobbing into Peter's shoulder and holding him tightly. The older prince was sympathetic for the first time in a long time, soothing his brother without judgment and without anger. He actually felt saddened, and some forms of guilt, by Rose's death.

Nobody deserved to die so young.

She was buried in the royal cemetery alongside many of the past monarchs that ruled over England. Thomas was the last to leave her grave and Peter was the one who led him back home.

Eight years later…

"You want me do what exactly?" Thomas said to Peter.

The three brothers were in the throne room, discussing a ball that was coming up in a week in an allied kingdom named Arendelle. George had just returned from his recent trip to witness the queen's coronation but his return home had been delayed due to a snowstorm caused by the ruler herself. He had finally come back with stories of the kingdom and now the queen and her sister were throwing a party to thank their trade partners in remaining with them after all the trouble.

"I want you to go to Arendelle and see if this Queen Elsa is exactly what George says she is," Peter said, inclining his head towards the youngest prince. "Since Father is too ill to attend and Mother… well she's no longer with us."

"But why me?" Thomas said.

"It's not all bad," George stepped in. "She's actually a sweetheart. Not bad looking either. Rather pretty and I would woo herself myself if I wasn't committed to Amelia."

"I'm not ready to 'woo' anyone now," Thomas said with a roll of his eyes. "Is that really what you want me to do?"

"It could be very good for England," Peter said, pulling out a document and handing it to Thomas. "They've severed ties with Weselton and we can stitch those trade agreements to our original ones. Gain something for both nations."

"Kind of deceiving, isn't it?" Thomas snarled. "Need I remind you, I don't take advantage of the feelings of maidens."

"I'm not asking you to do that," Peter said, raising his hands in defense. "Just get her to sign the document and come home. And stop hanging onto Rose, Thomas. She's long gone."

"Shut up!" Thomas shouted. "I'm not hanging onto her, you bloke. I miss her, sure, but don't we all?"

"I do," George agreed quietly.

"This isn't about Rose, though," Peter said, shaking his head. "Just go to Arendelle, have her sign the thing, come back. Simple."

"So no wooing?" Thomas said, crossing his arms.

"None. Unless you want to, of course," Peter said with a devilish wink. "Then again, it's up to you, ladies man."

Thomas eyed the document that was still being held out for him to take. He grunted and swiped it from his older brother.

"Fine," he said. "Prepare a ship for me. I'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Spectacular," Peter approved. "Godspeed, Thomas."

"Careful, brother!" George called after him with a hearty chuckle. "She's dangerous. Ice powers and all!"

"I think I'll manage," Thomas said, waving off his younger brother's empty warning. "How bad can she be?"

When Thomas entered the ballroom of the castle, he was expecting a bunch of stuffy old men and women just as he always seen at any trader's ball. Instead, to his great pleasure, he found numerous people around his age. He managed to blend in easily, talking merrily to some foreign dignitaries and hearing nothing but good things about Arendelle. He was starting to wonder where this popular Queen Elsa was, keeping an eye out for anyone wearing an expensive crown and showing off any powers over snow.

It wasn't until her name was announced did he finally spot her. Standing by the throne was the princess— Anna he believed her name was— waiting for her sister to arrive.

And arrive she did.

In a gorgeous dress, brilliant hair, stunning icy eyes, and this perfect smile, Elsa emerged from the side door. His jaw just about dropped to the floor and he was smitten at once. He knew nothing about her but a drive in him told him to find out every little detail, he wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to make her smile… he wanted her.

Perhaps, he thought in his rational side, he was going a little too fast and thinking ahead but who could blame him? Elsa was beautiful— no, that wasn't nearly enough to describe her. Breath-taking, prepossessing, captivating, heart-pounding, and just… wow.

He had never felt this enamored by someone since Rose.

After she paused beside Princess Anna, the party returned to full swing. He attempted to approach her but he didn't get too close, since she was chatting happily with her little sister. Not wanting to interrupt, he was swallowed by the crowd again.

So he went along with the rest of the party and tried to ignore the aching thought in his brain to go introduce himself. Elsa, however, took care of that once her hand smacked him in the back of the head by accident.

"Ow!" he whined, turning around to see who hit him, rubbing the smarting wound she left.

"I am so sorry!" she gasped, hugging her arms to her chest.

Her voice is… amazing, was his first stupid thought. She must be a fantastic singer.

"It's all right," he assured.

That's when he realized that he was addressing the queen of Arendelle. He widened his eyes with embarrassment and dropped to one knee in some awkward form of a bow. He didn't care that he was in the middle of a crowd. It was rude of him to speak to someone of higher status without bowing first, after all.

"Oh, my deepest apologies, Queen Elsa!" he stuttered. "I should have moved out of the way."

"No, no, it's okay," Elsa promised. "Really, I'm the one that hit you."

He swallowed as he stood up, straightening his green tail coat. He really wanted to tell her how gorgeous he was but, then again, that wasn't the best way to start off any conversation with a complete stranger. He shamelessly admired her, however, meeting her ice blue eyes.

"I should formally introduce myself," he said, more to himself than to her. "I am Prince Thomas of England, second in line for the crown."

Was that last part necessary? he thought, trying not to cringe.

"You know me already," Elsa said with a smile. She gestured to the princess, whom Thomas just noticed was standing there this entire time. She was also rather attractive but she was more of an adorable sort while Elsa was mature in her beauty. "This is Princess Anna, my little sister."

Anna curtsied. "It's a pleasure."

Was she smirking?

"Queen Elsa!" someone called from across the room. "There is a request for your audience."

"Ah… coming!" Elsa called back. "I— I should go. It was nice meeting you, Prince Thomas." She bowed her head and vanished into the crowd.

Anna sent Thomas a grin and followed her older sister. And there Thomas stood, dumbstruck and lovestruck with the Snow Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

"I see," Elsa said, running her hands along her arms as she hugged them to her chest. "Thomas… I can't exactly say the same thing."

His heart and face fell. "Why not?"

"Because it's too soon. This romance we have? It's…. it's too fast!" Elsa's hands went to her hair. "Thomas, I can't fall in love with someone as fast as you can. I'm so, so, so sorry that it got to this point. I… I can't say I love you back because I don't share that same love that you feel for me." She looked close to tears. So she was genuine about this and obviously incredibly guilty. Her words were choked, telling Thomas that she really didn't want to tell him the truth.

"…I understand," he said softly. "It's just that… my father once told me to tell before it was too late. I learned that the hard way when an old love of mine… died before I could tell her. I was so naive that I didn't think it mattered at the time. Elsa, I'm sorry that I rushed things. This isn't your fault."

"I led you on," she whispered. "I kissed you, I hugged you, I let you hold me and let it get to this point. That's not kind, it's not right. I used you as an experiment, at best, to see what Anna felt towards Kristoff because I didn't know. I hate the unknown and I bring everyone down with me when I screw up." The room was getting colder as a few tears slid down her cheeks. "You deserve someone more grounded than me, someone more experienced… I'm no good for you... for anyone."

"That's not true!" Thomas protested, stepping over to her. "Elsa, this is my—"

"Stop it," she snapped.

It was a damned order and he knew it. He shut up at once, folding his hands behind his back. Elsa let out a shuddering sigh.

"Look, I still wish to continue this friendship with you and trade with England," Elsa said. "But as of right now, I can't afford distractions. Bernard is driving everybody in the castle mad but Anna thinks she found something that could finally get rid of him for good without jeopardizing any foreign relations or the good of the kingdom." She sent him a smile. "Do visit before you leave for England, however. I'd like to see you off… Again, I'm sorry."

Thomas returned the smile, masking his sorrow. "O-of course."

She sent him a longing glance before leaving his cabin on the ship, heading back home.

He didn't care that she didn't return his feelings. He was determined to remain in love with her but knew that it was high time to give her some space after all the chaos in the month and a half he had known her.

At least he told her before it was too late…

He just didn't get the response he had desired.

Don't hate Elsa. And don't hate me. Thomas is going to fight for her! All you Thelsa shippers do not fret. There will be a prequel regarding Elsa's love life after we take care of Bernard.

You'll get his backstory in the next chapter.

Ways to contact me/other sites I'm on are posted on my profile. Thomas's picture is now on my Deviantart account.

If you want to contact me in any other way besides reviews my email can be found on my profile. 'Cause if you're signed in as a guest, I can't exactly reply back to you if you want to chat. Thanks!

See you next time!