Chapter 20: A Wind From the North
Elsa's eyes scoured the distant buildings of the capital city. Sandstone and mortar gleamed gold in the clear dusk. The form of the royal castle grew in her vision. No sign of Thomas yet.
He's here. He has to be.
She watched the towering form of the Man-of-War draw closer across the darkening waves with a growing sense of unease. Directing her gaze farther out, she saw no less than five other ships, stationary and spaced out in a semicircular perimeter around the Bay of Athero. According to the scout atop the crow's nest, all of them bore the lion of Weselton.
She felt her sister's hand squeeze even tighter around her own.
"Anna, please get below decks," Elsa implored.
Her sister shook her head vehemently, her strawberry braids almost slapping into the Queen's face from her proximity.
"Whatever's going on here, we can face it together," Anna stated stubbornly.
"Anna, that wasn't the deal. When I say run, you run, remember?"
"Elsa, if the ship sinks, you're my best chance at not drowning."
Elsa opened her mouth to retort, but this time she couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, she let out an exasperated sigh, which elicited a smug grin from her sister.
"I never should have let you come," Elsa muttered halfheartedly. She let go of Anna's hand and walked up the quarterdeck to join Admiral Felix at the railing. The older man retracted his spyglass and turned to face her with a grim expression.
"I don't like this one bit, Your Majesty," he growled. "It seems like the whole Weselton navy is in these waters."
"Could it have something to do with Thomas?" Elsa's breath quickened at the thought.
"I don't think so, at least not directly. According to the prisoner, the assassination was an attempt by the Southern Isles to frame Weselton. I doubt Weselton even knows that Prince Thomas is here."
Elsa pursed her lips. "What do you think this is, then? Why would Weselton be setting up a blockade around Athero?"
The Admiral's thick, greying eyebrows angled downward in consternation. "It looks like we may have stumbled into a war, Your Majesty." He handed Elsa the brass telescope and pointed toward the shore. "Look over there. The harbour is destroyed."
Elsa's eyes widened as she took in the distorted image projected through the lens of the spyglass. The setting sun cast the piers of the docks into sharp relief. The blackened husks of half-sunken ships jutted out of the water like the bones of some beached sea monster. The buildings nearest to the sea were blackened with ash and soot. Fires still smouldered in places along the shore.
She turned her attention to the warship moving to intercept them. She could already make out the figures of men moving about the deck. The gunports were open, the hull like a porcupine with cannons for quills.
"What's our course of action, Your Majesty?" Admiral Felix regarded the approaching vessel, trepidation evident in his tone. "I would not advise taking the Northwind toe to toe with a ship of that calibre, much less an entire fleet."
Elsa stared at the Man-of-War for a moment longer. "They don't know why we're here," she mused out loud. "We don't know why they're here. They should be willing to communicate. Their quarrel is not with us." She turned to the Admiral. "Raise the white flag and retract our guns."
Felix tilted his head. "Are you sure that is wise, Your Majesty?"
"It's either this or we turn back," Elsa replied evenly. "We are not turning back without my son."
She moved back up the deck to rejoin her sister. The white flag rose up the mainmast accompanied by the cacophonous sound of the gunports swinging shut.
"We're surrendering?" Anna exclaimed incredulously as she saw the flag.
"No," Elsa answered calmly. "We're just going to have a chat."
As if in response, the rows of cannons lining the hull of the approaching gunship retracted in near unison. Elsa breathed a small sigh of relief. The opposing vessel was only a few ship-lengths away now, and she could make out the name Indomitable inscribed in bold gold lettering upon her bow. She heard the Admiral yell out orders and watched sailors climb the rigging to furl the sails out of the wind. The Northwind drifted to a halt. The Indomitable furled its sails as well, slowing as it drew parallel with the Arendellian frigate. The massive silhouette of the Man-of-War cast a long shadow over the deck of the Northwind.
The figure of a burly man crested the railing of the Indomitable. He was dressed in a black uniform with gold accents, the metallic pins decorating his lapel glinting in the light of dusk. A large naval cap shaded his face from view.
"By decree of the Duke of Weselton, no ships are to enter or leave the port of Athero under force of death," the man boomed in a deep, official tone. "Turn your vessel around!"
"That is outrageous!" Felix shot back, scowling upward toward the Weselton man. "What about peaceful fishing and mercantile craft?"
"Weselton is at war with the Southern Isles," the man declared. "Until King Mathias agrees to our terms, we shall continue to maintain our blockade of Athero."
"We are here as diplomatic emissaries of Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the Admiral stated in a hard tone. "Impeding our path to seek audience with King Mathias can easily be seen as an act of war against our kingdom as well."
"The blockade stands! Turn back now or be fired upon. This is your final warning." The man turned to step back from the edge.
Elsa could feel the situation slipping from her grasp. In that instant, she made a decision. Clenching her jaw, she moved back across the deck to Admiral Felix's side with fast, purposeful strides.
"Excuse me!" she shouted up toward the Man-of-War. "I have a proposition."
The man leaned back over the railing. Elsa thought she saw him hesitate for a moment.
"Queen Elsa. This is a surprise," the man called down.
"Admiral, lower the white flag, please." Elsa made sure her voice was loud enough to carry. "What is your name and station, so I may address you properly?" she asked in a cold tone.
"Commander Leon of the Weselton military."
"Well, Commander, I would like to assure you that Arendelle has no intention of stepping into your war with the Southern Isles. However, I have reason to believe that my son is in that city. I am here not as a queen, merely as a mother bringing her son home."
"Your business here does not concern Weselton," the Commander stated harshly. "For the last time, the blockade stands!"
Elsa paced a few steps toward the edge of the deck, making a show of putting a hand to her chin thoughtfully.
"Commander, your orders are simply to ensure no vessels travel in or out of the port of Athero until your duke has reached a satisfactory agreement with the King of the Southern Isles. Is this correct?"
"Correct."
"I can help you with that," Elsa stated matter-of-factly.
"Your Majesty, what are you doing?" the Admiral hissed from behind her.
"Trust me," Elsa whispered back. She raised her arms toward the sky in a swift motion, her palms open. Her hands began to glow with an ethereal blue light.
A deep crack resonated through the air, as if the very sea itself had split in half. The temperature dropped noticeably. Suddenly, the Northwind jolted. A wave of blue-white luminance expanded outward across the water in a bubble from the keel. Behind the glowing edge, the surface of the ocean froze solid with the sound of a cascade of hardening crystal. The bubble accelerated as it grew, quickly shooting past the other ships of the blockade and toward the distant shore. A final hard peal like the toll of an icy bell echoed back across the now-solid surface of the bay.
Elsa heard a choking sound from the deck of the Indomitable.
"That's… sorcery! Witchcraft!" the Commander shouted in a flustered voice.
"I am glad that we could come to this mutually beneficial agreement, Commander." Without another word, Elsa strode back to the Admiral. "Ready a squad of guards and bring the prisoner up on deck. We are going to see King Mathias."
Felix wrenched his gaze from the frozen water, raising an eyebrow. "Only a squad? Are you sure?"
"Yes, Admiral. Without the ship, getting more men ashore will take too long." She saw that Felix was still unhappy with her decision. "I will protect myself if it comes down to it," she added in a lower voice.
The Admiral's mouth drew to a thin line. "Very well, Your Majesty," he conceded with a bow.
As Felix moved belowdecks, Elsa snuck a glance back toward the Indomitable. Commander Leon had left the side of the railing and there seemed to be a commotion on deck, but the gunports remained closed.
"Elsa, that was… wow." Anna had descended from the quarterdeck with an awestruck expression.
Elsa held up her hands. "I'll thaw it, I promise. This is just until we get Thomas back."
"No, this is amazing!" her sister said with a laugh. "That'll show Weselton they can't bully us!" She punched the air in the direction of the Indomitable. "So, when are we going to shore?"
Elsa sighed. "I am going to seek an audience with King Mathias as soon as the squad is ready. You are going to stay on board this ship until I return. Weselton might not be openly hostile towards us at the moment, but the Southern Isles is a whole other matter."
"But-"
"No buts, Anna. You're staying here. Queen's decree."
Synchronized footsteps sounded from the stairs belowdecks. Felix stepped back into view with four green-clad royal guards in tow. The men had short swords hanging from their waists and crossbows at their backs. Marcus Everett stood between them, dressed in baggy prison clothes with his right hand shackled to his feet. The prisoner's eyes went wide at the sight of the frozen sea.
"The men await your orders, Your Majesty," Felix announced.
Elsa nodded. "Load up the rowboat and lower it onto the ice. Admiral, watch the ship until I return." She turned back to her sister and held up her index finger. "Anna, don't make me freeze your feet to the deck."
Anna's mouth froze mid-retort. Her eyes were filled with worry. "Just… be safe out there, okay?" she said softly.
"I'll be fine, Anna." Elsa forced a smile despite the pang of guilt that pierced her heart. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the rowboat and moved to sit inside. The guards squeezed in after her with the prisoner, the chains of the shackles clinking as they hit against the side of the hull. As the winches began lowering the boat toward the ice below, one of the guards glanced to her in confusion.
"Your Majesty, how will we use the boat on the ice?"
Despite everything, the Queen laughed. She placed her hand on the edge of the boat. A coat of frost began to spread outward from the point of contact. A set of gleaming sleds grew from underneath the hull to meet the frozen surface of the sea. She threw her arms forward, channeling the magic in a different way. Twin bolts of light hit the ground in front of the makeshift sled and mounds of snow rose in the shape of stallions before the men's astonished eyes. Icy harnesses materialized between the horses and the boat as she waved her hand.
"Bloody black magic," she heard Marcus mutter from behind her.
With a gust of arctic wind and snow, the stallions' eyes blazed blue with living energy. They reared high and gleaming red in the last light of the setting sun before galloping toward the mainland at Elsa's command. The guards' coats began to flutter as the sled gained speed.
Elsa fixed her gaze squarely on the castle nestled between the distant hills.
I'm coming, Thomas.
The Duke of Weselton watched the Indomitable draw parallel with the Arendellian vessel with bated breath. He smiled darkly. Despite the frigate's own impressive size, the Man-of-War's imposing hull towered over it. For a while, both ships floated motionless, so close they were almost touching.
Then, the smile fell from his face. The water flashed with ethereal light as a shockwave exploded outward from the Arendellian vessel. With a terrible rumble, the entire bay froze over. Cold air washed over the Duke, but it was nothing in comparison to the chill he felt at the sight of the ice itself. Panic rose in his chest, threatening to overpower all rational thought.
She's here.
That night in Arendelle over two decades ago was carved permanently into his memory. The spikes of ice around the newly-crowned Queen had revealed her for what she was: an abomination that went against the natural order. In the years since his failed attempt to destroy the monster, the Duke had placated himself with the thought that at least Queen Elsa seemed to be making every effort to not involve her powers in her politics. She wasn't doing any damage outside her own kingdom, and thus after her inevitable death—natural or otherwise—the threat would be gone for good. The Duke had told himself there was nothing he needed to do except let nature take its course. He had been content for a time.
Then the Snow Queen had born a son. When the Duke found out the curse could be passed on, he could not sit idle any longer. He had to restore the natural order himself. It was his duty.
But he had failed. And now the Snow Queen had frozen his entire navy.
The Duke stormed up to the nearest officer on deck.
"Get men over there and find out what's happening!" he ordered as he jabbed a finger at the distant Indomitable. His voice cracked with urgency.
"But, the ice, Your Grace-" the officer blubbered, eyes wide with shock.
"I don't care if they have to crawl to that ship, I want a report now!"
"Y-yes, Your Grace!"
The Duke glowered down from the top of the stairs as sailors lowered a gangplank off the side of the ship. Two squads of soldiers stepped onto the ice and began to run toward the distant form of the Indomitable. As he watched, a white shape peeled away from the Arendellian frigate, picking up speed as it moved across the surface of the bay. It blew past between the Duke's galleon and the Stalwart, making a beeline for the shore. As he squinted, the Duke thought he saw creatures of snow with glowing eyes dragging a sled behind them.
The soldiers moved at an agonizingly slow pace, their silhouettes mirrored on the ice. The Duke paced back and forth in front of the railing, wiping the lenses of his spectacles angrily as his breath fogged in the air. In his mind's eye, visions of dominion over the Southern Isles were drowned out by those of razor-sharp icicles and snow blown by hurricane-force winds.
Something had to be done about the sorceress.
Eventually, the soldiers returned with Commander Leon in tow. The Duke rushed down the deck, almost tripping down the stairs in his haste to reach the Commander.
"What in God's name happened?" he screeched. "I told you to stop their ship, not set off an eternal winter!"
"I didn't expect the Snow Queen herself to be on board that ship!" Leon exclaimed, struggling to catch his breath after his long trek. He raised his hands as the Duke's scowl deepened. "Look, Your Grace, Queen Elsa told me she isn't here to intervene in the war." There was a hint of fear in his eyes at the mention of the Snow Queen's name. "She's only here to bring her son home. I recommend we wait this out. Our advantage against the Southern Isles-"
"What did you say about her son?" the Duke asked in a low voice.
"The Queen said she's here to bring her son home," the Commander repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What does it matter?"
But the Duke's mind was already years and oceans away in a stuffy guest room in Corona.
"The son has the curse," he murmured. His eyes refocused on the Arendellian frigate with a new intensity. A plan materialized in his thoughts, brilliant in its simplicity.
Two birds, one stone.
"Your Grace?"
"Commander, I have new orders for you."
The sky had darkened by the time the royal castle rose back into view. Thomas's breath came hard and laboured as Roderick pulled him through the trees. He stumbled on roots and rocks, each jolt sending pulses of dull pain through his wounds. Roderick had made the decision to remove the bandages several hours ago after they had begun to give off an unpleasant odor, and now yellowish fluid stained the left side of the prince's shirt and soaked through his right pant leg. Thomas was no medical expert, but he knew this probably wasn't a good sign.
Hans's plan had proven sound for the time being. They had skirted around the perimeter of Evan's Bluff, taking a wide detour before moving back in the direction of Athero. Thomas had spotted multiple groups of soldiers combing through the streets of the town, all moving in the opposite direction of the capital city. As they began their trek back through the forest, every audible footfall and broken branch had the prince's heart leaping to his throat, but the trees around them had remained silent and empty. Still, he couldn't shake the sense that they were being watched, even with Hans's periodic trips backward to cover their tracks.
The trees thinned away as they crested another hill. Hans held up a hand to halt the group as he moved to scout along the ridge. Thomas slipped from Roderick's shoulders and collapsed to the ground. His skin was covered in sweat and his head pounded like a drum with every beat of his heart. He screwed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over him.
"...mas. Thomas!"
Roderick's hushed calls registered in his ears as if muffled by thick wood. He felt a hand on his forehead.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Thomas groaned as he propped himself upright with a trembling arm. "Just tired."
"You have a fever, Thomas." The Captain's face was etched with concern. Roderick turned to Iona, who was crouched in the grass nearby. "He needs medical attention. I fear his wounds have become infected."
The princess wrung her hands. She was quiet for a long moment.
"He'll have to hold out a while longer," she finally replied. "We don't have any supplies to help him with." Her eyes darted away when Thomas met them with his gaze. Before he could make anything of it, however, Hans had walked back to the group.
"You might want to see this," the man said in a low voice, nodding toward Roderick and pointing over the hill. The Captain glanced back to Thomas with an expression of worry before moving up to the ridge. He ran back to the group immediately, his eyes wide as moons.
"Well, I think it's safe to say that Queen Elsa has arrived."
At the mention of his mother, Thomas pulled himself back onto Roderick's shoulders with renewed strength. As the group carefully moved up the hill, the dark arc of the ocean came into view. He heard Captain Edwards gasp from somewhere to his right.
"The Great Freeze has come to the Southern Isles," Norman whispered with a dazed expression.
Thomas's heart beat faster as he beheld the sight of the frozen bay. The vast expanse of black ice reflected the feeble light of the sliver of a moon like frosted glass. He saw the shapes of ships embedded on its smooth surface, so tiny in the distance.
"No, no, no! We're too late!" Iona cried. Thomas turned to find the princess's eyes bright with panic and anger. "You said Queen Elsa would never use her powers against the people of the Southern Isles!"
"Mother can thaw it!" Thomas stammered. "I-"
A loud crack split the air. With a cry of agony, the guard named Andre fell at his feet with a ragged, bloody hole in his chest. Thomas could only stare, dumbfounded. Unfamiliar voices erupted from the trees behind them.
"There they are!"
"I see Hans! Shoot to kill!"
"Over the ridge!" Roderick bellowed.
Thomas felt himself hoisted bodily off his feet as the Captain picked him up like a sack of potatoes. Another shot whizzed through the air as Roderick started sprinting. The instant they met the other side of the hill, Roderick dropped prone to the grass, slinging Thomas off his shoulders in a swift motion. The prince hit the ground hard, stifling a scream as a piercing pain ripped through his left shoulder. The edges of his vision darkened as he desperately clung to consciousness. He felt vibrations through the soil as more bodies hit the ground around him. Whether they were dead or taking cover, he did not know.
"... tracked us through the forest."
He registered the sound of Hans's voice through a thick haze.
"We can't stay here!"
Something struck the hill in front of him, showering him with a plume of dirt.
"… his magic. It's our only chance!"
He lifted his trembling hand, trying to raise a protective wall. He could only manage a burst of short, useless icicles before he collapsed from the effort. His gaze drifted down toward his throbbing shoulder. His stomach lurched at the nauseating sight of fresh blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.
"Thomas, listen to me."
Iona's voice. She was kneeling beside him. Her face was very close. He hadn't even felt her hand on his arm.
"I need you to focus. This is going to hurt."
Then he knew that he was becoming delirious, because he thought the princess's hands were glowing with a muted amber light. Her fingers pressed against the wound in his shoulder.
It felt like she had stabbed him with a white-hot poker. He writhed in Iona's suddenly vice-like grip, trying desperately to escape the fingers burning into his skin. He screamed as he felt a second flare of heat light up in the wound in his thigh.
"What are you… get off him!" he heard Roderick shout.
"No." It was Hans's voice, breathless with astonishment. "She's healing him."
As abruptly as it came, the pain subsided, spreading out and filling his body with a pleasant warmth. The sickly haze lifted from his mind like fog in the wind. In an instant, he felt the best he ever had since leaving Arendelle.
Iona stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground as she struggled for air.
"Get… to your mother's ship, Thomas," the princess gasped. "Go. I'll distract them."
"You…" Reeling with shock, Thomas reached out and grabbed Iona's hand. "No, they'll kill you!"
Iona shook her head, chuckling weakly. "I know my father." She pulled her hand away gently and began crawling back up the hill. Once she reached the top, she cupped her hands by her mouth. "Stop! Stop shooting! It's me, Princess Iona!"
Thomas felt a yank on the back of his shirt.
"Don't let her sacrifice be in vain," Roderick urged. "We need to move!"
The prince nodded mutely. He glanced back up the hill one last time. The soldiers were advancing on the princess now. There were at least five of them. One of the men looked in his direction and began to raise his rifle.
Thomas leapt to his feet and began to run. Baring his teeth, he completely let go, freeing the font of wintry power inside him. It was as if the air itself froze. Tiny crystals of ice materialized in a dense cloud around him, suspended motionless for the briefest of moments before they were blown into a blizzard by roaring winds. Thomas heard shouts of surprise as the storm grew in intensity until everything farther than an arm's length was completely obscured. He thought he heard a gunshot but he kept running, willing the storm to follow as he raised a hand to clear a narrow patch of calm in front of him.
For a time, he lost himself in the thrill of the escape and the howl of the storm. The grass had given way to paving stones beneath his feet when he heard the Captain shout again.
"Your Highness! The men can't take much more of this!"
"They'll see us if I stop the snow!" Thomas yelled back. Roderick took him by the shoulders. Only then did the prince notice his mentor's shivering frame and the purple tinge of his skin.
"Thomas, you're killing us," Roderick stated through chattering teeth.
Thomas lowered his arms slowly. Bit by bit, the air around them cleared as the wind died down and the snow dissipated, revealing a deserted city block beyond. With a start, he realized they were already well past the castle. There were no purple-uniformed men in sight, but still he tensed, half-expecting a bullet to fly out from one of the narrow alleyways around them.
The two guards farthest from Thomas collapsed to the street shivering. Roderick, Norman, and the remaining guard immediately moved to their aid, huddling together for warmth. The prince hugged himself tightly as a bitter tide of guilt washed over him.
"Sorry," he whispered. He cringed at the glint of fear that he saw in Captain Edwards's eyes. "That… that was reckless."
"Your quick thinking saved us," Roderick replied with a tight-lipped smile. He was still shivering, but there was gratitude in his eyes. "From that range with clear line-of-sight, they would have shot us down in seconds." The Captain's gaze lingered on the now-dried blood staining Thomas's shirt. "So," he said, exhaling. "That's what the princess was hiding. How are you feeling?"
Thomas nodded haltingly. "Really good, actually." He slipped a hand between the buttons of his shirt, marveling at the unblemished skin beneath. "The hole's gone," he breathed.
"Hans, did you know?" Roderick asked, his eyes searching the huddled group for the ex-Spymaster.
But Hans was nowhere to be found.
The streets of Athero were eerily quiet. The jangling of the prisoner's manacles was almost painfully loud as it reverberated off the stone walls of the surrounding dwellings. The guards circled Elsa defensively, wary hands on the hilts of their swords as they scoured every dark doorway and alley for potential threats. The Queen had elected to dismiss the snow-horses as soon as they reached shore—no need to frighten the citizens further than she already had. Now, she wished she had kept them, if only to faster escape the oppressive emptiness of the city.
"Something's not right," Marcus grumbled.
"Silence, prisoner!" one of the guards immediately commanded.
Elsa heard Marcus gasp in pain as the man struck him. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the sound. A small, terrifying part of her had wanted to have the assassin tortured until he begged for mercy down in the dungeon back in Arendelle. An even smaller part had wanted to do it with her own hands. Her own ice.
If Prince Hans really did plan the attack…
Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides. She felt the curse stirring, begging for release. She bit the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood.
No.
She couldn't allow herself to lose control. Nothing could bring Henrik back. The only thing that mattered now was finding Thomas.
The layered parapets of the castle were much closer now. She could see the road up to the gates through the maze of buildings ahead of them. Elsa imagined King Mathias sitting in the throne room within. She had only met the man on one occasion, when he had paid Arendelle a personal visit in the summer after her coronation to apologize for his youngest brother's conduct. He had seemed genuine enough then, but she knew of the King's notorious penchant for military profiteering.
Glancing back at the Weselton navy ships scattered across the bay, she wondered how involved Mathias was in the death of her husband.
A sixth sense had her stopping in her tracks. She felt goosebumps as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She raised an arm to signal the squad to stop. Then she saw it.
Several blocks to their left, a wide, swirling column violent white and grey rose above the rooftops. There were only two possible sources of a blizzard like that, and she was one of them. Her legs began moving, driven by instinct. Soon, she was running, leaving the guards in the dust as they struggled to keep up while handling the prisoner.
"Your Majesty, wait! It could be dangerous!" one of them yelled. She ignored him.
She could hear the storm now: the scratching of ice crystals on roofing tiles, the howl of the wind as it buffeted into walls and whistled around corners. The air grew gelid and filled with sharp snowflakes. Her hair flew wildly behind her as she pushed on against the winds. Somewhere above her, a window shutter flew off its hinges. She raised a hand in front of her, furrowing her brow as she willed the raging air to part around her. She could barely see to the opposite side of the street anymore, but she no longer needed to see; she could feel the magic fueling the storm like a beacon guiding her toward the source.
"Thomas!" she cried. With a grunt of determination, she splayed both hands and blasted the entire block clear with a powerful gust of her own wind. He was so close. "Thomas, I'm here!"
Abruptly, it all stopped. The wind vanished in an instant as the snowflakes slowed to a halt in mid-air before they, too, disappeared. The remnants of the storm contracted inward toward its centre as the mists were sucked away. Elsa slowed to a walk as the labyrinthian spiderweb of streets came back into view around her. She heard the familiar voices of her squad of guards accompanied by the jangling of the prisoner's chains a ways behind her. But they weren't the only voices she heard.
She passed another empty street. The next street was not empty. She saw a group of figures huddled in the centre of the road, clearly suffering from their exposure to the blizzard. One stood apart, seemingly unfazed by the snow around him despite the thin shirt he wore. Elsa saw the platinum-blonde mop of hair atop his head and her heart soared.
"Thomas!"
Her son turned. Elsa froze. His face was gaunt, bruised, and scarred, and oh God was that blood on his shirt…
"Mother? Mother!"
And suddenly she was holding him and none of it mattered. She clung to him, burying her face in his hair, forcing her trembling knees to support both their weight as her son collapsed into her arms.
"Shh. I'm here, my love. I'm here," she soothed, kissing his forehead fiercely. Thomas clung to her even more tightly.
"I… I've done bad things, Mama," he whispered into her chest. "I lost control, I killed-" His voice hitched as Elsa felt warm tears soak into the fabric of her dress. He was sobbing now. "I thought I lost you, I thought…" He looked up at her with so much pain in his eyes.
Elsa felt tears flow down her own cheeks, but she held her son's gaze with furious resolve. "You'll never lose me, Thomas. I would move mountains and part oceans for you" She stroked his hair like she did when he was a boy. "There isn't a force in this world that can keep us apart."
"Even death?" Thomas murmured in a small voice.
She cupped her son's face in her hands.
"Not even death."
Far from home under a foreign sky, mother and son held each other in silence, and for a moment everything was alright.
Soundtrack: "The Snow Queen"
ThePianoGuys – "Let It Go/Vivaldi's Winter"