Hey guys, I've got a nice 'n' big chapter for you all. It has the largest word count in a while.

There are about 10ish chapters left, give or take a few. So everything is going to get super crazy in a few chapters.

I wish you all the best.

-Whovian123


My back aches. Why does it feel as if I have just spent the night in a stiff wooden chair?

I open my eyes and blink back the light blaring though the window I am facing. I scout the room, looking for a clue about why I spent the night in a chair as opposed to my bed. My eyes fall in to Kasper's gaze, he has propped himself against my head-board and is watching me.

"Sleep well?" My voice is ragged with the effects of sleep still clinging to my body.

"Not as well as you seemed to have." Kasper allows for some light banter, which I am thankful for. Had he skipped the chitchat and jumped straight in to the threat of Hans I may not have been able to keep from returning to the panic of last night.

"Chairs do wonders for a good nap." Strangely enough this seems to be true, for whatever reason I slept well, it may not have been for long, but the several hours I spent asleep in this chair served to make me feel safe. I did not dream, my mind did not wander to the horrors that may lay in my future.

"Do you have any more bandage?" Kasper asks with his hand resting in a rather awkward position over the gash in his chest.

I nod and jump back to my desk, the spool of cotton fabric is sitting by a lantern and several blank sheets of paper. Kasper does not complain as I remove the old bandage with less than practiced hands. I may have had my fair share of practice with my burn, but bandaging other people is an entirely different task.

"Are you up to explaining how this happened?" I know that I do not want the answers, but the reality must be better than the thoughts dancing around in my head.

"Not all that much to tell. Hans took the other royals and I to his study. First we talked about politics; the other royals fed in to this banter and sipped his wine. Eventually men started to leave; they had to get back to wives, or simply wanted an early start. I made to leave several times, but every time i tried he asked me to stay for 'just one more drink'. After every other man had left he told me to take a seat while he stepped out for a moment. I didn't want to, but I didn't think it wise to disobey."

Kasper stops and takes a moment with his eyes closed tight. "Sorry." I apologize for jostling his sore ribs as I finished tying off his bandage.

He takes my hand and traces the lines of my palm. "It's ok. Don't worry about it. I do it all the time when people I have just met barge in to my room in the middle of the night, bleed on my rug and bed, then demand to be re-bandaged in the morning." A smile plays at Kasper's lips, a smile which I copy.

The smile slips from Kasper's eyes as he continues to explain the series of events that led to his bleeding on my carpet. "He came back with two guards. At first he was calm, but then he started accusing me of things, and then he started screaming things that I didn't understand. He left me with a message though; he had the guards slam paper weights in to ribs until I recited it back flawlessly."

I sit on the bed, my hand resting palm up in Kasper's hand. He has stopped talking, and I never want him to start again. The urge to spend forever on my bed is stronger than it has been in the last few days. It is different now though, I am happy here. I am reveling in the feel of Kasper's fingers skating across my palm, and the absurd and unmitigated safety I feel. It is no longer a safety based in my own icy powers; it is a safety based in the presence of the battered and bruised man across from me.

"He told me to say. 'Don't think you can win. Your icy tricks won't help anyone. Remember I won't stop at limbs.'"

I refuse to meet Kasper's eyes, or to utter a single syllable.

"Elsa, whose arm did we burn?"

"My mothers."

"You mean the previous Queen of Arendelle, the one who has been dead for over three years?" His words come slowly and with a deliberateness which makes me feel like a child.

"She didn't die, neither did my father. They didn't die at sea, their boat was torn apart, but there was enough floating debris to carry them to shore. Hans was the one that found them; he kept them in a cell, biding his time until he could use them to become king." I hate the shudder that creeps in to my voice, I fight against it with everything I have, but it coats my words and puts my fear on display.

"Is that why you married Hans? He threatened to kill your mother and father?"

"He didn't just threaten, he doesn't bluff. I thought I was doing everything he wanted perfectly, but the day of our wedding he killed my father." The quaking in my voice evolves in to gasping sobs. I am guilty, it is my fault that my father's dead. I could have done better. Now Kasper knows; he knows that I didn't try enough.

"Elsa-."

Kasper is going to lie and tell me it is not my fault, he is going to say things I will not let myself believe. So I cut him off. "No. Please, don't tell me I did everything I could; don't tell me that I don't deserve this. I do, I brought I on myself. I could have found some goddam loop hole instead of agreeing to marry him. I sold away my country for the chance to bring my family back together, and all I have done is tear us further apart."

I can feel the tears, and I hate them. They fall across my face without permission, determined to join my uneven sobs in displaying just how ruined I feel. It is the second time in far too few days that I have been reduced to tears in front of Kasper. For all my determination I cannot seem to control myself.

Ice crystals, is see the faintest ice crystals hanging in the air. I did not realize my lack of control has spread to my powers. The crystals rest in the space of the room, flowing with the ebb of the air. They are so small and so pure that I can hardly see them dancing around. They are streaming from my palm, the palm that is still sitting in Kasper's hand. His eyes follow; his face returning to the goofy smiling state which seems all too natural for him.

"I hear men talk about how beautiful you are, they whisper things that no married man should say about a woman other than his wife, but they always come back to this. They are so confused and backwards in their thinking, for they consider this to be a tragic thing. Too many men have woe over what they call; your fatal flaw. Those men, the men who say such things, I do not understand them. Ice is beautiful, it does not in any way compare with your beauty, but if ever there was a thing that could, it would be your ice."

It startles me to hear what Kasper says, though it is not the gossiping men that startle me, it is the idea that my ice is something other than a curse to anyone. My life has been a series of dangerous accidents caused by my ice, granted most of the time things manage to work out, even if a little tense for a while, but to hear someone call my ice beautiful. To know that in Kaspers mind my ice is not simply a dangerous inconvenience.

I do not have the words to thank Kasper, what I want to say sits in the back of my throat and refuses to move. So instead of arbitrary words that anyone could say I let my power surge in to my palm and out in to the air. Thousands of small glassy ice crystals spring in to the air, far more than there were before. They catch the sunrise coming in through the window and cast rainbows across every surface of the room.

We do not speak; to speak would be to taint a moment so pure, and weighted, with words. Words have no place among us, words are too simple and to false. Us being able to sit on my bed, draped in rainbows, is enough.

Then I remember that I have to go to breakfast.

Hans made it clear enough the last time I had the misfortune of being alone with him that I am not to miss anymore meals, and with the threat of a beaten Kasper hanging over my head I find the temptation to disobey quite small.

"Are you going to be able to make it to breakfast?" I doubt Kaspers ability to stand without limping or wincing in a far too noticeable way.

"Of course." Kasper makes to stand up, but is too cocky and instead of standing falls to the ground.

I scramble to help him up but he pushes my hands away. "Please don't. Moving makes it worse. Just go to breakfast. If you don't go he'll hurt you."

I nod and step in to my closet to change out of my well-worn dress. With my old dress discarded on the floor and a new dress clinging to my frame I accept that I can no-longer pause the world. I must step out of my room and deal with Hans. The world has let me sit quietly for long enough, and now the time for casting rainbows is over.

Stepping out from my closet reveals a splayed out Kasper draped over the side of my bed.

"Would you like some help?" I offer, trying to supress my urge to laugh.

"Maybe a little."

I grasp Kasper around the waist, trying to ignore the way he winces and the way his muscles flex. His skin is hot and tender around his bruises. I force myself to ignore the pained yelps that Kasper lets out as I haul him back on to my bed.

"Your ribs must be bruised." I explain to Kasper as I prod at the sides of his stomach, careful not to aggravate the more vicious looking bruises. "Here." I press my hands together, capturing a small pocket of air between my palms which I turn to ice. "Ice what hurts." I offer up the thin disk of frozen water and pray that the residual magic in the cold helps to promote healing.

Kasper accepts my offering with a pained smile. Through when he presses the disk to the largest and darkest bruise his face takes on a far more content expression. While his eyes are closed, and his mouth mid sigh, my feet carry me out to the hall.

I feel uneasy leaving Kasper alone. Hans has displayed that he has little moral quandary about hurting him to send a message. Skipping breakfast is not an option for me. If I am not at breakfast then it is only a matter of hours until Hans' fist is hammering against my door

My trip to the dining hall consists of frightening silent hallways, and steely eyed guards stationed at strategic and heavily trafficked positions within the castle. They unnerve me, anyone of them could be the men that beat Kasper, and one of them could be the man who cut Kasper. I do not trust any of them.

Hans is waiting for me outside of the dining hall. His gleaming boots tapping impatient rhythms against the ground. I have to fight the urge to flee and instead walk toward him. His lips curl up in to a sadistic smile.

"Don't think you can win. Your icy tricks won't help anyone. Remember I won't stop at limbs." He whispers the words in to my ear, his breath whistles past my cheek. I clench my fist and refuse to give him any emotion to use against me. "Poor little prince. He isn't well enough for breakfast? I guess I hit him a little too hard. It's his fault though; he took too long to break."

I walk alongside Hans in to the hall and then to my seat. All the while maintaining a blank face, not daring to so much a blink with too much zeal for fear of giving Hans something to use, or destroy.

Silence is the main feature of the meal. I do not speak, and Hans remains rather silent which prompts the other members of the table in to a quiet submission. Kristoff is the first to attempt conversation. "It looks as if we are in for rain tonight, maybe it will wash away the snow?"

His voice is strained; it is easy to tell that he feels uncomfortable in the silence. From what I have gathered he led a solitary life before he met Anna, but spending so much time around her must have made him used to chatter.

"Yes Mr. Bjorgman, I think you'll find that the snow does not have roots nearly as deep as it thinks." Hans drawls with condescension tainting his every vowel.

I ignore any hidden meaning Hans may intend and focus on finishing my food. Nothing can happen to me, not here, not with this many witnesses. The foreign dignitaries are people Hans wishes to woo and impress; he cannot do that if he does something unsightly to me in public.

The rest of the meal passes without any more attempts at conversation.

When I try to escape the room alongside several noble men I feel fingers wrap around my arm with a grip that is all too tight. My toes curl as he holds me in place, his voice is in my ear again. "Don't think you're going anywhere sweetie."

It is now that I discover the one downside to surrounding myself with people to prevent Hans from hurting me; I cannot fight him. He can use soft innocent words it torment me without detection, but a burst of ice is hard to ignore.

I wait, my gaze fixed on the grandfather clock tucked in to the corner of the room. The seconds swing by, carried forth by the persistent bronze pendulum. I do not know what Hans is going to do. I am not sure of what more he can demand of me. If he is to be believed I only have one purpose left. A purpose which I am starting to fear I have been too successful with.

"I am assuming you got my little message." Hans releases my arm, but not before forcing me to turn away from the clock, and towards him.

"Yes."

"So you must realize that avoiding me is not an option."

"Yes."

"Good." The word is forced in to the world with far too much malice. "Now get out of my sight, I'm sure princey boy needs more bandages."

I do not hesitate to sprint from the room, and I do not slow my pace until I am standing in front of my door. Only then to I dare to stop, and it is only because slamming in to the hardwood does not sound fun. The brass door handle slips through my hand on the first attempt, but finds purchase on the second.

The door swings forward and I dart in to the room, relieved to see Kasper still lying on my bed and without additional bruises or cuts. I force myself to breathe at a normal rate. Of course he is fine, nothing would have happened to him over breakfast. Hans left him alive when he could have easily slaughtered him, he must want him for something. Perhaps his country has resources far more valuable than I had thought.

"Are you ok?" Kasper springs the question on me so fast that I am taken aback.

"Yes. He was rude, but he's always rude, and he was frightening, but he's always frightening." I explain.

Only now do I survey Kasper and realize that he is sitting far straighter than before breakfast, and with a face free of pain. "How are your bruises?"

"Nearly painless, this ice does wonders." He holds up the ice and I see that it is un-melted. I allow myself a small victory at having made progress in controlling my powers and choosing to make the ice non-melting.

"I was hoping some of the magic would seep out and heal you faster, it seems to have worked." My fingers dance across the faded bruises along Kaspers ribs. The skin moves with the muscle under it and goose bumps follow my fingers. "Sorry, cold fingers."

"The cold doesn't bother me." Kasper insists.

"So you've said many times, but goose bumps don't lie."

"It's not because of the cold."

My fingers pause, resting against the skin directly above Kaspers belly button.

I shall ignore it. I have become an expert at ignoring things I ought to be dealing with, such as the small and horrifically undeniable protrusion nestled in my stomach. His words will not ring in my ears, and I will most certainly not look up to meet his eyes. My gaze shall stay firmly tacked on to the goose-flesh left in wake of my now stationary fingers.

I should move my fingers, I really should. Leaving them where they are is a massive breach in personal boundaries, but I feel stuck. My arm will not move, and neither will my fingers. Breathing has become rather difficult.

The skin under my fingers shivers, and I realize that it is covered with tiny snowflakes. My gaze breaks away from the goose bumps and turns instead to the ceiling, a ceiling which is sending thousands of tiny snowflakes toward the ground. I try to quell the flurry, but it is to no anvil.

Unsettled and ashamed that I cannot keep the snow from falling at an ever-increasing rate I clench my fist and pull them to my face. I need to block out the world. I need to be in control of something.

"Elsa." Kaspers voice has changed. It has lost all of its sincerity and is now filled with worry. "Elsa, are you ok? Is something wrong?"

I do the irresponsible thing and ignore Kasper. My knees come close to my body and I wrap my arms around them. I burrow my head down and blot out everything. I do not have the ability to deal with this, not right now. Not even on a good day am I remotely equipped to deal with goose bumps from things other than cold, and stomachs the refuse to stay flat despite my wishes.

Kasper must be confused, and likely rather worried as to why I have curled up in a mute ball at the foot of my bed, but I have thirteen years' worth of silence to draw upon and firmly ignore his calls of my name.

"Can you walk?" I ask, knowing that it is not what Kasper wants to hear. In all honesty I do not know what Kasper wants to hear.

"I can manage."

"You should go. Please."

I don't look up. I refuse to look at the word that is spiraling so far out of my control. Instead I listen, desperate to hear Kaspers voice. "Ok."

The mounting pressure in my chest does not lessen when Kasper agrees to leave, nor do I feel any relief when I hear the door open and close. Being alone is not helping, but being with people does not help either.

My hands clench again and I pull my knees tighter to my body. The skin on my palms is raw from the digging of my fingernails, and, in spite of my best efforts, snow is still falling from the ceiling.


So, what did you think?

Care to perhaps leave a review?

I've noticed a significant drop in the reviews.

Loridhhp is the only person who reviews anymore, where did you all go? I miss you guys? Do you want me to respond in chapter again? Please let me know.

On a somewhat related note, Loridhhp you are the best, just the best.

Next chapter for you all on the 2nd of August.

-Whovian123