Summary: Hell had no fury like a woman scorneed, and Sasuke learned this the hard way.
Rating: T
Frostbitten
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It was exceptionally quiet when the prince walked through the palace doors, the winter air seeping inside and stealing the heat. Not a single voice was heard throughout the throne room, not a single servent was still, and neither the king or queen so much as looked at their son. The cold air seemed to get chillier with every moment passing by in silence. With a foul attitude, he took his place on his throne beside his advisor and exhaled a very annoyed sigh. Otherwise, the silence was thick enough to slice with a sword and the tension spoke volumes more than the royal family could ever say. Pointing a piercing glare towards his parents, he said with a very vexed tone, "I refuse to marry her."
"Sasuke—" the king started, but he was met with a glare that shot right into his core.
"I don't want to marry her," the prince retaliated, "And I refuse to marry her." The prince stood firm in his choice, resolute and unchanging any time soon. He was to be named King of Tyglow, Owner of the Fire Palace, and he would not let just any woman become his queen, no matter how beautiful she was. He didn't care if it was his father's orders, he would not be forced to spend his time with anyone. And that was final.
"I didn't love your father when I married him!" his mother exclaimed, her dark eyes wide with minor annoyance.
"Mikoto!" the king said, astonished.
"I was eighteen and I had only met you a month before!" she defended herself, a pink tint staining her pale cheeks, "And marrying him was the best choice I have ever made, Sasuke. I had to grow to love him. All you need is a little time, t'is all. Give Ino a chance—"
"Mother, please—"
"She's right, son."
"No, she's not."
Sasuke stood, staring at both of his parents. His father had the darkest eyes he had ever seen on a person, friendly and stern at the same time. His skin was darker than his mothers, and he seemed to age faster, for his forehead was riddled with wrinkles. His lips were thin and tired, forming wrinkles at the corner of his mouth, though he still retained the powerful prescense he had in his youth. His mother, on the other hand, seemed not to have aged a day past twenty. Her hair hung long down her back, parted so that her pale face shown like the moon. Her dark eyes were much more round and welcoming than his father's, and they shone as if stars themselves were trapped behind them. Her lips were always painted a bright red, and it was rare moment when she wasn't smiling.
This was one of those moments.
"Mother, I will not marry anyone I do not love. The idea of marrying someone that I have to grow to love is sickening to me," Sasuke pleaded, standing tall. It was just an excuse, partially true, though his only goal was to avoid marriage right now. Love was nothing of importance to him, but he liked to imagine that the future queen of Tyglow would be someone he at least liked. He dropped his cloak to the floor and said, "I must know that my future queen loves me long before I place a crown on her head." His advisor, who had been watching the squabble, smiled under his mask and dissipated into the floor, only to reappear next to the prince.
A twinkling red eye showed his support before he spoke, "The safety of the kingdom is more protected with the prince's way, Your Majesty."
"I got this, Kakashi," was all the prince said to his support, but they both knew that this was an unsaid thank you. "The kingdom is more safe this way, too! You guys have to admit, my way does have its' advantages."
"Sasuke," his father began, stepping down from his throne as well, "your way makes perfect sense and we would be more than happy to support you. It's just that...you don't make it easy to trust that you'll get yourself out there."
"What are you saying, Father?"
"You're a recluse, son. You only leave your room to go visit that witch in the woods—whom we've yet to see—and you haven't presented yourself to anyone. Villager nor princess," his mother interjected, disdainfully. She reclined into her throne and said, "I'm not gonna stand, but we believe you will never meet a nice girl without our help."
"That's presumptious, Mother," Sasuke said, albeit under his breath, though loud enough to be heard.
"It's true!"
"May I propose an idea?" Kakashi spoke, flashing back and forth between the royals to ensure that he had their attention. Upon hearing no voices object, he said, "Didn't you two meet at a ball?"
"It was a beautiful night," King Fugaku said, resting his head in his hands.
"Oh, I do love a good ball!" the queen exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You are brilliant."
"So a ball it is! And if you do not find a girl you are at least interested in, you will marry whoever we say," the king spoke, a finality in his voice that scared Sasuke to his core. The chilly air seemed to grow colder, the temperature dropping low enough to where the royals' could see their breath.
"That's not how love works, Father," Sasuke protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears. His mother was excitedly planning for the ball, dissipating in and out of the throne room with throngs of servents at a time, and his father was never a hair's breath away from her.
Enraged, he left the throne room, sinking into the floor and away from his parents. He found himself outside, not sure how or why he ended up there, but glad to be away from the palace. The air outside was much colder, rain turning to ice before it had a chance to hit the ground, pelting the young man with sleet. Sasuke couldn't help himself but to glare, frowning, but not angry enough to want to be back in the palace. He needed to be as far away from those walls as possible.
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Meanwhile, the palace had an unexpected visitor. The visitor came barefoot, snow and ice sticking to the bottom of their feet with water trailing behind them. A black hood covered the upper portion of their face, but a devilish smile crossed their plump, pink lips. The visitor was short, no taller than 5'3, but walked as if they were seven feet tall. Their footsteps were silent, seemingly gliding over the cold floor. As they walked, the palace frosted over, at first slowly collecting a layer of snowy dust, then freezing over until ice enclosed the walls, encrypting them with a phrase in a foreign language.
The stranger walked about the palace, dragged their long nails against the walls, the phrase repeating itself everywhere they touched. For what seemed like an eternity, they wandered through the palace walls, alone and searching, until they stumbled upon a man, a servant, hastily running back and forth in a thick sweater. That devilish smile extended, and they dropped their hands down to their sides. "Excuse me, sir," a sickly sweet, feminine voice spoke. The figure dropped their hood to reveal a hair full of pink hair and brilliant, green eyes. "I believe I'm a little lost."
The servant, an older man, looked at her and smiled, ever faithful to the subjects of the kingdom. "What are you looking for?"
That devilish look spread from her lips to those shining green eyes as they locked with the servants', her cold hand locked onto his shoulder. She breathed in, the air freezing around them, and whispered, "Rigescunt indutae." The servant was confused, he's only spoke one language his entire life, but smiled anyway, happily confused. He felt the air around him getting colder, chilling him to the bone and he prayed the cold front would leave, until he found himself unable to use his lips. When he tried to look down, he was unable to turn his head. He was stiff and cold, frozen.
The girl tilted her head back and laughed heartily, a laugh that came from her stomach and exploded in her chest, the devilish look in her eye leaving for a second, only to reappear a second later.
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When the prince returned home, he was shocked to find his palace completely covered in a layer of thick ice, frozen. The doors opened when he got close enough, cracking open enough where he could enter and that was all. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, surprised that he could see it as a blue vapor. It was much colder inside the palace than outside, the ice clear and thick against the walls. In the smallest of handwriting, a phrase was engraved all throughout the ice. The palace was unusually silent, moreso than ever before.
He wandered through the palace, finding no sign of life until he entered the throne room, seeing his father in the middle of the floor, his hands stretched and legs parted, his face distressed. His robes were caught behind him, stuck floating gently behind him. King Fugaku was encapsulated forever in a moment, quite literally frozen in ice. "You look like your mommy," a sultry, female voice said, sweeping her way in Sasuke's ears. He diverted his eyes away from his father, to find his mother sitting on her throne, her face serene and smiling. She, too, was stuck in a moment, seemingly exhaling. Her soft expression was frozen into her face, carved beautifully in ice.
Sitting in his father's throne was the girl, her shining green eyes staring the prince up and down, a devilish smile on her lips. She perched her feet on his throne, exuding power and control. She lifted her finger and gestured for him to approach her, but the prince stood in his place, refusing to move from his spot. "You know Sasuke," she purred, rising from her place on the throne, "I heard the most...perculiar news this morning."
"You froze my parents? What the hell, Sak," Sasuke said, looking at the girl with a soft, confused expression.
"I froze everyone," she said flippantly, "but that's not the point! The point is that I receieved a telegram from the Queen that my boyfriend, the prince, is engaged to some bitch that isn't me!"
"She isn't some bitch, Sakura. She's a princess," Sasuke sighed, burying his face into his hands, "And you're really overreacting."
The witch looked at him, her green eyes narrowing into emerald daggers. "Excuse me—my boyfriend is marrying some princess bitch, and I'm overreacting becayse I'm angry?" She huffed, crossing her arms against her small chest, before dropping her gaze to the floor. "It's like you don't even care about me, Sasuke," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. The prince looked at her, his expression softening from annoyance to something almost warm, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she stopped him. "You know, I never really cared about the kingdom. I don't care about being queen—I never have."
"I know—"
"The only thing I cared about was you. I still care about you. Sasuke, I care about you more than anything else." She placed her hands together and exhaled, breathing life into a creation—a small tiara made completely of ice. Delicately, she placed it on her head, her expression shifting from hurt to serene, a calmness sweeping over her. She stepped down from her place and walked towards him, clapsing her hands in his. She relished in the heat his hands gave off, warming her own. She rested her head against his chest, breathing in his scent. "Sasuke, say something."
"I—I care about you too, Sak, you know I do," her said, his voice low in her ears. It came out like satin, smooth and silky and wonderful to feel against her skin. She knew that this voice was for her—and just for her, and she savored every second of it. "I just—"
"I don't want an excuse," she whispered, inhaling sharply. She pulled herself away from him, the grip on his hands remaining strong, locking him in place. "Sasuke, I know how much you love Tyglow. I don't blame you, it's beautiful, especially covered in ice. Your kingdom is absolutely amazing, your highness." She paused, taking a breath. Her hands grew chilly in his grip, nails digging into the palm of his hands. "I love you, and because you love this kingdom, I'll love it too."
"That's wonderful—"
"I'm not done yet," she said, the sweetness in her voice melting away to portray something sinister. She cocked a smile at him as her hands started to frost, freezing his in her grip. "I think I'm going to be queen—no coronation involved. Queen Sakura of Tyglow sounds lovely, doesn't it?" The prince struggled to get out of her grip, but the stickiness of the ice kept him bound to her, despite his will. "And my first act as queen is to conquer Wisteria—that's where that princess lives, right? I think it'd be a beautiful addition to our kingdom, no?"
"You can't do this, Sakura!" he yelled, giving her a fierce, stern look that his father often used on him when he was disappointed. The girl flashed a bright, pretty smile at him, shaking her head.
"Baby," she purred, looking up at him, "I'm already halfway done. And no one, not you or your daddy or anyone, can stop me." She threw his hands out of hers and put a finger to his chest, whispering, "I'd like to see you try, though." Gently, she planted a kiss on his cheek, warm and angry, and whispered, "Rigescunt indutae." Without another word, the witch was gone, and the prince was heartbroken.