Ahtohallan and her Memories

(A/N: For those of you interested, the song Elsa sings if found on YouTube and is called - "The Wolf Song - Nordic Lullaby - Vargsangen". The woman who sings it is named Jonna Jinton. Beautiful song I listened to a lot while writing this chapter. It's definitely worth a listen I think, to better envision it given it'll be referenced a few times throughout the story.)

Kay followed Jekyll and Hans in a near sulk, obviously not impressed by this situation. They crept quietly through the sleeping village making for the deeper depths of the cave slash riverbed slash whatever this place was. "This is a stupid idea," he bluntly, and maybe somewhat uneasily, said.

"No one's arguing you about that," Hans replied.

"Then why are we doing it?" Kay demanded.

"Because answers, Sir Kay," Hans testily said. Kay… Ugh, the sooner they finished this the sooner he could return to his wife and newborn son and cuddle them close. Baby Kay still worried him, so Jekyll trailing along wasn't exactly his ideal situation, but what had to be done had to be done.

"Answers aren't worth your life," Kay said.

"They're worth it if not having them could cost me or my family their lives," Hans replied.

"Cost you your… all you want to know is how the nacken knew that stupid song and why he sang it to you! There might not be an answer to find, Hans," Kay argued. "I can answer why you feel cold here. It's because this place was all but created to be the Snow Queen's domain with its sub-zero temperatures, and you're the Fire King. Like Bruni's element is fire, so is yours, and you two are weak here because you're encased inside of your sensitivity. My primary question is just how weak is weak. Can you even draw your sword, Hans? I've barely seen you lift your head since we entered Ahtohallan! You're a liability and you should go back to your wife and your newborn."

"I will! Just not right now. I'm going into Ahtohallan. That isn't up for discussion," Hans heatedly replied.

"Dammit Hans," Kay said in a frustrated breath. He started allowing his body to channel heat to extend the warmth to a tightly bundled Hans and Jekyll. He was tightly bundled too, so it would probably get uncomfortable for him fast, but it would keep the other two alive and going. Hans started up his flames, letting them creep over his exposed skin to warm himself further. As they went deeper, they felt the temperature suddenly and drastically drop. So much so that they stopped in surprise. Jekyll almost immediately began to shiver, teeth chattering. Hans' flames were weakening, and the young king suddenly seemed disoriented and uncomfortable, wavering a bit and starting to turn deathly white tinged with blue. Sir Kay frowned and let his body heat increase again to ease their discomfort, but if this was a sign of things to come, well, need anyone ask?

"Why aren't you so affected, Sir Kay?" Jekyll questioned. "Heat is your element also, is it not?"

"My powers are similar to Hans', but not the same. If I had to explain it, I'd say Hans' are more natural, fire, and mine are more… unnatural," Kay replied. "My body is a literal furnace, heat more than fire. His not so much. I wish I could go into the details of it, but even I'm not clear on them. It isn't important anyway, ultimately." Hans nodded, distracted. Kay turned to him. "Why are you really here, Hans? What answers are you actually seeking? Because I don't see you risking life and limb for questions as superficial and unimportant as the ones you claim to be searching for answers to. Not when you're a new father and your wife is still in bad shape after a difficult birth." Jekyll glanced over, curiosity immediately piqued.

Hans was silent, letting the question run around his head for a while as he tried to determine how best to answer it. "I don't know," he honestly answered. "I just know I have to find them. They could mean the difference between life and death. To me, to my family… I don't know what I'm looking for, I just know that it's there."

"Hans, you are chancing too much," Jekyll said in concern, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I chance more if I don't do this," he answered.

"You can't know that," Jekyll argued.

"I'm going. Either you come with me, or you go back and spill to Elsa and the others I went on an expedition into Ahtohallan. Positives and negatives to either option," Hans said.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a young fool easily swayed by manipulations, peer pressure, and veiled accusations of disloyalty," Jekyll replied, frowning and squaring up. Hans seemed a bit surprised the man had called him out so bluntly. "You tend to forget my age to your own detriment, child. Recall I'm older than your eldest brother," Jekyll. "I'm not a young, reckless idiot like you're being. I'm a mature adult who knows better than this and sees disaster coming from a mile away if you press on. So yes, I'm going back. Let you and Sir Kay continue blindly on this endeavor. I'll spare you the disaster it would be to tell your wife of your foolhardiness, but I for a certainty will tell Kristoff and your brother of it, mark me well. Then I will accompany them right back down here to hopefully save you from yourself before you drown in the depths of this blasted place."

"Oh bite me!" Hans retorted, put off by the biting lecture.

"The river will be doing that well enough," Jekyll replied, turning and heading quickly back up.

"Traitor!" Hans shouted.

"Ensuring you live to see your child grow up is a price I'm willing to pay to be a traitor!" Jekyll called back. Hans fumed, glaring angrily after the man with fists clenched at his side and jaw tight.

"He isn't wrong you know," Kay said.

"Oh who asked you?" Hans retorted, turning. He started on seeing how far ahead Kay had gotten, navigating his way through the river. "Hey, wait up!" He hurried to catch up. "I thought you were on Jekyll's side," he added once he came abreast of the knight.

"Oh I am, but I'm not quite as level-headed as he," Kay replied. "More inclined to adventure, risk be damned. But understand that if things get bad down there, I'll be hauling you right back up."

"Fine," Hans agreed. "Part of the reason I brought you anyway."

"I know it," Kay answered.

Frozen

Jekyll, half frozen and frosted over, looked forward, teeth chattering. He was almost there. The sooner the better. He swallowed, looking back down. He'd underestimated how cold it was in that place. It was wise he'd headed back when he had. Here was hoping Hans and Kay weren't separated down there, though. He entered into the village once more, looking around. Most everyone was still asleep, but he noted with a frown that Xe and his pirates, set up away from the villagers, were in conference. He looked across the way and spied Jurgen watching them warily with his own pirates. Tensions, it seemed, were growing. It may not be wise to tell Jurgen of his little brother's recklessness right now. It may turn out the man was more needed up here, than down there. Kristoff, though, he had every intention of informing.

Jekyll made his way through the village, going towards the queen's icy tent where she and her family were staying. As he neared, he heard singing softly coming from the tent. Humming, really, until the humming gave way to words…:

"Vargen ylar i nattens skog

Han vill men kan inte sova

Hungern river i hans varga buk

Och det är kallt i hans stova.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min får du aldrig.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min far du aldrig."

The humming began once more, though only brief. The song caused him chills straight through to his very bones…

"Vargen ylar i nattens skog

Ylar av hunger o klagar

Men jag ska ge'n en grisa svans

Sånt passar i varga magar.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min får du aldrig.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min far du aldrig…"

The humming began once more, soft and gentle and reassuring. It was Elsa he saw, when he gently pushed open the tent flap and peered inside. She sat on an icy rocking chair, tenderly looking down at her babe as she cradled and nursed him while the little one's tiny hands closed and opened against her skin.

"Vargen ylar i nattens skog

Han vill men kan inte sova

Hungern river i hans varga buk

Och det är kallt i hans stova.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min får du aldrig.

Du varg du varg, kom inte hit

Ungen min far du aldrig…"

Jekyll approached quietly, enraptured by the sight and sound, a sad but tender smile pulling at his lips. If only her husband were here to hear it… He would never have left then. "It's beautiful," he said.

She looked quickly up, a bit startled, but relaxed on seeing him. "Henry," she greeted with a tired smile. "Do you know where Hans is?"

"Guarding," he lied. He felt bad about it, but he didn't want to disturb her peace. She nodded and looked back at her child. "What language?" he questioned.

"Swedish," she answered.

"And the meaning of the words?" he asked.

She smiled a bit and half sang half spoke the translation:

"The wolf is howling in the forest of the night

He wants to, but cannot sleep

The hunger tears his wolven stomach

And it's cold in his burrow.

Wolf, wolf, don't you come here,

I will never let you take my child.

Wolf, wolf, don't you come here,

I will never let you take my child.

The wolf is howling in the forest of the night

Howling out of hunger and moaning

But I will give him a pig tail

Which suits a wolven stomach.

Wolf, wolf, don't you come here,

I will never let you take my child.

Wolf, wolf, don't you come here,

I will never let you take my child."

"Who is the wolf?" Jekyll questioned.

"Must it be anyone?" she asked.

"No. But it is," he answered.

She was quiet. "I don't know… Maybe many," she eventually answered. "Mor'du, Carabis, Xe… Any who would do my little one harm…"

"And the pig's tail?" he asked.

Silence. "Me. Arendelle. Whoever and whatever it must be to keep him safe," she answered finally, eyes never leaving her babe. Silence. "Where is Hans?" she asked again sounding suddenly vulnerable, and part of him wondered if she sensed something was amiss…

"He will return soon," Jekyll answered. Her smile was gone and she looked somewhat pained. Certainly she must sense something was wrong.

"Can you check on him?" she asked.

"Might I borrow your brother-in-law then?" he replied.

"Of course. He's with Anna and Olaf in the room there," she said, looking towards one of the chambers of the icy tent. Jekyll nodded and went to fetch the ice harvester. He informed him of the situation in hushed tones and Kristoff cursed under his breath before nodding and following Jekyll quickly out. Behind them the Snow Queen's lullaby echoed as they left…

Frozen

Hans stared numbly and tiredly at the sight before him. Icy swirls and images appearing and disappearing as quickly as they came. Before him now was one that lingered longer than he would have liked… Him in the marshes of the Southern Isles and his father looking down at him from his horse as he offered up the flower to the man hoping to pacify his anger. The way his father took the blossom and almost seemed to soften… Before it was gone. The image vanished with his parent crushing the flower underfoot. Kay stood back, watching quietly. "You shouldn't be here," the man finally said. Hans didn't speak. "At least most of Elsa's memories were good ones… What of you, Hans?" He shook his head and pressed on without a word. "I will only follow you so deep," Kay warned. Hans paused. His unspoken question of 'why' hung in the air between them. "You aren't the only one whose memories are memories of pain," Kay finally continued.

"Yeah, well, at least there's a chance some good ones will be pulled up for you," Hans replied.

"The same could be said of you. But the ones that hurt are the ones that will be experienced the most vividly," Kay said.

"It won't all be our memories," Hans said, forging onward.

"The river will consume us, Hans. If men like you and I go too deep, it will drown us as easily as the nacken could have drowned you," Kay stated.

"Stay with me for as long as you care to," Hans said. "But when you stop, I'll still go on until I have what I want."

"You don't even know what you want," Kay said as another memory floated by them. A memory of horses racing across the fields of Britain. The Knights of the Round Table in sport… He watched them race around and passed them wistfully in a measure of pain and regret.

"Help me to find it then," Hans answered. He stopped short as the image of a curly-haired young woman holding a bow and looking intent on a goal appeared in front of him. She raised the bow, aiming at a bear he recognized and shuddered at. He swallowed. "Merida," he murmured, reaching out to the image. The moment he touched it, it disappeared. Kay was focused on another picture altogether. Hans looked over and saw the knight standing at the side of a woman who was cradling a baby girl in her arms beaming down at it. Hans' heart painfully twisted as thoughts of Elsa came to mind, and for a moment he almost considered turning right back around… "Who is she?" Hans asked.

"My wife," Kay answered in a murmur. "Andrivete was her name. Of Northumbria. The child is self-explanatory." Hans approached the memory carefully, peering at the infant who sported a mop of curly, curly hair. "She was a redhead. Like me," Kay said. "Green eyes like her mother's."

Hans frowned a bit. "Funny… She looks familiar somehow," he said. "Almost like… like Merida."

Kay tensed up a little before relaxing with a sigh. "Not a surprise," he said, turning and walking away from the image to go further in.

"What do you mean?" Hans asked, frowning and curiously turning.

"We should keep going," Kay said in a clipped manner.

Hans' frown deepened in confusion for a moment before his eyes filled with surprised realization at the sudden epiphany, watching after the knight. He blinked, telling himself it was too farfetched to be real, and soon followed, albeit observing Kay a little more intently now with an eye to detail. The Knight moved like him and his brothers… Silence hung between them for a long while. "How long have you suspected?" Hans finally heard himself ask without actually meaning to say it out loud.

Kay paused for a long moment before sighing, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He shook it. He took a breath and said, "Soredamer made mention of it. It was a thought I toyed with prior to that but dismissed. It seemed too farfetched to be real… But then why am I still surprised when the farfetched becomes the reality anymore? Especially given who I am." He shook his head. "I died young, not childless… Her words, not mine. My daughter married a Scotsman and wielded a bow as if it were her second nature…"

Hans was quiet. He didn't know what to say to that, or how to react. Was it awesome? Hell yes. Was now the time to get into it? Probably not. "It is farfetched," Hans finally said. "But not impossible. A few centuries prior to Merida's time, the family genealogy just stops. No record of the parents on either side of the line… Would have been around that time, I'd guess. Within a generation or two of you. Maybe your generation itself, depending on what her name was."

Kay sighed again. "Rhelemon. Her name was Rhelemon." Hans was quiet. "Is your silence the answer you seek?" Kay asked.

"Yes," Hans eventually replied. "She was where the genealogy stopped… Guess now we know why." Kay shrugged, not speaking. "Wow… We're descended of Knights of the Round Table," Hans finally said with a bit of a chuckle, smirking. "Lars is going to die on the spot. He might not be the only one."

"Revel in it, boy," Kay replied, a dry smirk pulling at his lips. He suddenly stopped. Hans frowned curiously and came up alongside him, peering ahead. He froze too. A drop off stood before them. A large one. Silence stretched between them. "Dive down deep into her sound… But not too far or you'll be drowned," Kay said. Silence again. Finally, he turned to Hans. "Go back to your wife and son. Please. Before you find dive too deep to be able to crawl out again."

"Are you brave? Will you come with me?" Hans replied.

Kay watched him silently before looking down into the pit. "If I go down there, I will drown just like you," he finally said. "Maybe faster."

"Together we may be able to keep each other afloat," Hans replied.

"Or sink all the quicker," Kay said.

"Are you brave? Will you come with me?" Hans repeated.

Kay was quiet. "I want to say no, but I can't," he finally answered. "I will come with you. To keep you alive and for no other reason. If you go down there alone, you won't have to worry about drowning in the memories. You'll freeze to death first."

"You don't have to come," Hans said after a moment, weighing the situation out. "My fire can keep me alive well enough. In theory. And if I need help, I'll call for it… You don't need to dive down with me…" Knowing what Sir Kay had gone through in his lifetime? It was probably better if the man stayed up here. Not to say his own memories were much better, but at least they'd led to a happy ending in the end. At least for now. Kay's hadn't. "Just stay here, okay? I'll make it an order if I have to."

Kay was quiet, peering down into the blackness. "The moment things go wrong, call me," he finally relented.

Hans nodded, looked down, took a deep breath, and leapt, echoes of memory whispering or giggling all around him as he fell…

Frozen

"You should have stopped him!" Kristoff freaked at Jekyll, holding a blazing torch close. They'd really, really bundled up for this endeavor. "He can't go down into that river, Henry! It'll tear him apart from the inside out! There are memories there we don't want him to ever see! I mean, Elsa, Anna, and I weren't exactly kind to him before all of this started spiraling. Who knows how he'll react to those snippets, if he sees them? The guy's suicidal for gods' sakes! Or at least the sort of person who doesn't care whether he lives or dies."

"He has a child now," Jekyll said, though he sounded conflicted and a bit shaken.

"Yeah, he does, and he already doesn't feel like he deserves it!" Kristoff replied.

"There's a reason I came back to warn you," Jekyll said. "I should have warned his brother, but it seems Xe is gearing up for the attack. Jurgen will deter such a move against the Northuldra, to say nothing of Elsa and Sir Bedivere."

"Dammit, how far down did you guys go?" Kristoff asked.

"Very far, but not far enough for Hans," Jekyll gravely answered. Kristoff cursed again. "What sort of memories do you fear he'll see?" Jekyll finally asked. Kristoff let out a shaky breath. He really didn't want to answer that, but he would.

Frozen

Hans stared silently, lips pursed tightly at the scene before him. Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf playing charades. The topic of conversation?

"Prince Hans?"

"Irredeemable monster!"

"Villain!"

His jaw twitched and he shook his head before clenching his teeth, turning his head away quickly and closing his eyes. He forged onward, his body alight with flame against the deathly cold of this place. He looked up and gasped. He saw an icy image of Elsa strolling through this same deep, enthralled by the memories. He saw her reach the memory of him introducing himself to Anna. He saw her frown and turn up her nose before nonchalantly shattering his statue like it gave her all the satisfaction in the world to see him crumble to nothing. He stopped, gasping a bit as he watched her walk proudly on by without sparing a second glance. He hated that it hurt so much to see… Things weren't like that now, he tried to tell himself, but for some reason it didn't make the pain go away. He swallowed and looked down miserably, sniffing and closing his eyes. He shook his head, gritting his teeth, and looked up again. This wasn't going to stop him. He wasn't going to let this place break him! He came here seeking answers he didn't even know the nature of, but they would find him, he knew. In time. He just had to search long and hard enough for them, and they'd find him.

"Hans?" a voice asked.

He gasped, spinning around quickly with eyes wide. He knew that voice… It was his mother's. He gaped at the scene he saw there him. His father, standing before a window and gazing out of it, back turned. His mother stood in front of the door she'd just entered and shut behind her, watching the man with wary apprehension. His father didn't respond, just kept staring.

"Hans, is something wrong?" No answer. "What are you looking at?"

"Your little brood," he answered. There was no bitterness in the tone, just a simple statement of fact. A note, more than anything. "Your little brood…" he repeated. "Look at them. Ripping one another apart. Worthless little brats. They can't even do that right." She stayed wisely silent, though her gaze turned from the window and she shut her eyes in a measure of disgust. Silence. "Stop them, Anne Marie," he finally said.

Hans was just as taken aback as his mother seemed to be, at the sudden change of tone in his father's voice. Exhaustion… Vulnerability… They were two traits he could never have associated with his father. Two traits he couldn't consolidate with him if he tried, yet there they were. In front of him.

"Stop them…" the man repeated. He winced as if in sudden pain. As if trying to fight something within him… "They're going to kill themselves," the man said in a breath that almost sounded like a whimper.

For a moment, Hans' heart stopped in his chest. He became aware of icy cold creeping up his arms and looked at them with a soft gasp. They were starting to freeze. He'd let the flames die out… He grimaced and lit them up again to fend off the freezing, then turned to the memory of his parents again.

"Hans?" she said, true concern in her tone now. And hope… Hope that would quickly be dashed. She stepped towards him, reaching out, but even as she did so, he seemed to recover himself and the vulnerable posture became rigid and cold once more. She stopped with a little gasp.

"They're going to kill themselves… Survival of the fittest. Whichever one pulls through earns his place as my heir," the man said. His mother was silent, watching his father wordlessly. "Get on the bed," the man darkly ordered her. She was still for a moment. "Anne, you know the consequences if you don't," the man darkly warned. She drew a breath and reached up to let down her dress.

Hans felt his blood starting to boil as the scene cut off, a scowl crossing his lips as his breathing became heavier. He scoffed, turning sharp and marching deeper into the river, flames burning even hotter now in reaction to his growing anger. He whispered a curse, kicking at a snowdrift angrily. He regretted it immediately when it quickly took on the form of another memory that wasn't his own. His mother and father again…

His mother sat on the bed under the covers, holding them over herself. "Here I am. As you wanted… Why do you hesitate…?" she asked in a hollow, defeated tone. His father sat on the side of the bed, glaring across the room at a mirror. A mirror… Hans hated it, in that moment, even more than he hated his father… "Here I am!" his mother suddenly and angrily screamed at the man, a sob escaping her lips unbidden. The man flinched at it and she let out a breath of air quickly, letting her guard down ever so slightly as she observed him. "Hans?" she asked after a moment, tone weak and defeated.

"I see the bear…" the man murmured.

She looked towards the mirror quietly. "There is no bear in the mirror," she finally spoke.

"Yes there is," the man said, a smile flickering across his lips that seemed almost relieved. Not a happy relief, more a resigned sort of relief. "You stare right at him."

Silence. "There is no bear," she said firmly in a dark, hollow tone. He shook his head. "There is no bear!" she shouted, reaching out and seizing his shoulder. The man practically snarled, whipping around and seizing her wrist in a bone crushing grip, baring his teeth at her.

In that moment, Hans saw the bear too… His lips slowly parted, forming an 'O'.

His mother looked terrified of his father for only a moment before settling somewhat and drawing every ounce of bravery she had within her to swallow and stare him square in the face, eyes narrowing. "There is no bear," she repeated.

His father's eyes darted over his mother before returning to her face. His grip slackened, though he didn't let her go. He looked at her wrist then turned it so her palm was facing him. Tentatively she spread her fingers, granting him access to it. He watched silently before drawing it near and pressing his lips to it, closing his eyes. He drew a breath, letting her wrist go this time. She didn't remove it from him, only slid it down to his chest and rested it there. His father covered it with his hand, and for just a second Hans might have seen a human there… "Yes there is," he finally answered in a growl.

With a shout, Hans shattered the image without even thinking. He didn't even comprehend what he'd just done for seconds afterwards. When he did, he gasped and backed away looking afraid now. His eyes darted around, seeking an escape. He had to get out of here. Whatever answers he sought, he didn't want to find them. Not anymore! He didn't want to find them, he didn't want to know! He wanted to get out and go back to Elsa and little Kay and forget this ever happened. Where was out? Dammit, how did he get out?! He picked a direction and began moving in it rapidly.

As memories flitted by, memories of childhood or other things, he began to pick up the pace. Faster, faster, faster until he was full on running, panting for breath and desperate to get away. Suddenly, in front of him, leapt Mor'du! He cried out in terror, falling back on the ground as the bear—it wasn't really Mor'du, he saw plainly now. It was the memory of him—pinned him to the ground. As it had during the incident with the Ice Maiden. When he'd looked into its eyes then, he had seen something familiar; a form reflected in the orbs, a figure from a memory he couldn't drag up. An ancestor of his, he had told himself. The last ancestor that was taken by the curse, that was all! It wasn't that he'd known who the person had been, they just looked familiar because they looked like him! They looked like him! He saw the man peering out from behind the eyes now. So clearly, so plainly, and cold dread and denial twisted in his stomach. It was a lie. It was a faerie trick! It wasn't real. It wasn't… it couldn't be… But it was without a doubt the form he'd seen. He recognized it now and he began to shiver in terror and denial and disbelief.

"No," he gasped out, shaking his head in denial as his mouth quivered. "No!" he shouted again, attacking the form with flames until it melted away. "No, no, no! No!" he repeated again and again, getting onto hands and knees quickly and punching the ground. "No," he gasped once more, shivering. The flames, he realized, had gone out again. His teeth chattered. He saw himself freezing there and had half a mind to let it happen, but Elsa… He needed to get back to Elsa. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, and started the fires again, pulling his hands from the ground. Ice shattered as he broke away from it. He staggered up. "Help!" he shouted out. "Kay! Sir Kay, help me! Help! I want out of here! I want to get out! Kay! Kay! Kay! Ka…" He cut off, gasping in horror and going ghost white. There, playing out before him, was another memory. Elsa breaking down on the ice floes, surrounded in the blizzard she had caused. Him approaching her from behind with sword drawn.

His watched on numbly as he neared her and prepared to swing the blade. He wanted to scream, he wanted to warn her, he wanted to intervene so badly. The scene sickened him to his core! But he couldn't. And he couldn't look away. He couldn't look away as the sword came down, but there was no Anna to block it this time. He cried out in grief and terror, looking away last second and closing his eyes. He felt something roll to his feet and nearly vomited, spinning and running away as fast as he could from what he'd just witnessed. It hadn't happened like that. It hadn't happened! That wasn't a memory! Not a real one! Elsa was safe in Ahtohallan nursing their baby and thinking he was going to come back, but the longer he found himself trapped down here, the more convinced he was that he'd made a grave mistake and would never come back.

"Sir Kay! Sir Kay, help!" he shouted frantically as he ran. He slid to a stop with a gasp as another memory appeared that he was forced to watch in sickened horror. His baby, born not breathing, but this time he couldn't bring it back, nor could the nacken, and this time Jekyll couldn't save Elsa. "This didn't happen," he tightly whispered to himself. "This didn't happen, it didn't happen." He turned in another direction. Yet another corrupted memory that wasn't a memory at all. It was a worst case what-could-have-been was what it was! Jurgen being hung, no declaration of war saving him this time. He turned another direction only to see yet another and realize he was surrounded by corrupted memories, and some not corrupted but just him at his worst, each one seeming more horrible than the next! Kelin-Sel being beheaded in his place at the start. Justic dying from his wounds at sea. The burning of the orphanage.

All around the bed and peeping through the long velvet curtains, were a number of strange heads, some very ugly, and others lovely and gentle-looking. These were the emperor's good and bad deeds, which stared him in the face now. Death sat at his heart. "Do you remember this? Do you recollect that?" they asked one after another, thus bringing to his remembrance circumstances that made the perspiration stand on his brow.

"It didn't happen! It didn't happen!" Hans shouted frantically.

"I know nothing about it," said the emperor. "Music! Music!" he cried. "The large Chinese-drum! That I may not hear what they say!"

"Nightingale, Nightingale! Your voice that I may not hear what they say!" he heard himself cry out in tears frantically, gasping in pain. The fires had died once more, but this time he couldn't find the will or the power to draw them back. Icy death crept slowly up his body.

But they still went on, and Death nodded to all they said. "Music! Music!" shouted the emperor. "You little precious golden bird, sing, pray sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper round your neck. Sing! Sing!"

"Precious Snow Queen, sing, pray sing!" he gasped in pain. "I have given you my heart and costly love; I have even hung my life round your neck. Sing! Sing! Please! Elsa, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

But the bird remained silent. There was no one to wind it up, and therefore it could not sing a note…

"Elsa!" he cried again desperately, the ice creeping up his chest at an increasingly rapid speed.

Then he heard it... Her voice. Her singing voice. The music she had told him she heard calling her to Ahtohallan in the start, the short little lick she said had been in her mother's forgotten voice. He caught his breath, opening his eyes again and focusing on the sound. He felt his body starting to heat up once more. He sang the short bit back as best he could. She echoed it once more, closer this time. He grimaced, the ice climbing to his neck, but repeated it again anyway.

"Come my darling homeward bound! When all is lost then all is found," she sang back. He gritted his teeth and let a pillar of fire leap up around him as a signal, though he could only hold it briefly before he couldn't keep it up much longer. It was all that he needed though.

All at once she was there. He felt her hand cupping his cheek and it was like the chill completely dissipated from his body. He lifted his eyes weakly, struggling for breath, and met hers, pure white with ice, her body in the spectacular icy form it took on in moments when her emotions, fear or resolve, were highest. The one she had taken when facing Mor'du for his sake. The one she took again when she raced out into the Dark Sea to save his brother and her cousin. He took her lips without question. She held them firm, hand pressing firmer against his cheek, then withdrew. "Elsa," he said in a weak, whispered breath.

"Bear and mirror, don't you come here. I will never let you take my husband…" she sang softly, closing her eyes. He shivered at her voice. "I won't let you go," she whispered, voice strained but firm. "This icy force both foul and fair has a frozen heart worth mining," she gently sang, fingers dancing over his heart. He felt the chill lifting from it as well. She opened her eyes again, meeting his. "Bear and mirror, don't you come here. I will never let you take my husband…" He let out a breath, falling against her. She clung to him dearly as darkness blackened his vision. The last thing he knew, aside from her fingers combing protectively through his hair, was the warmth emanating from Sir Kay as metallic, running footsteps ran towards them seeming like slow motion…