A/N: I want to let you know I didn't choose the name of the House of the Coronian royal family lightly, I did some research, saw some stating the name was von der Sonne (meaning of the sun) which makes sense, others that it is Hohenzollen, a German house that ruled in various parts of Germany and Prussia. I didn't go with either, my choice is the name of a castle on an island in the area of Germany that my own headcanon is replacing with Corona. Just a heads up for when you're wondering where the names I use come from. The same goes for the names used for Arendelle. Sometimes I use real names of places in the southern tip of Norway where again my head cannon has placed my Arendelle and sometimes I take names of Norweigan places and adjust them to be similar but not exact. So if you desire to have a mental picture of geography for this story go look at a map of modern and old Norway and 1850s Germany.
As always I do not own Frozen, it is all Disney
Chapter 6: Loss
The dungeon was far below the castle, dug directly into the stone of the hill, it was dark and damp with no natural light available to anyone. They hadn't been in use for many decades, not since a more modern prison had been built just outside of the city on a lone island in the middle of the river. Today; however, the first prisoner in twenty years was thrown unceremoniously into the furthest darkest and dampest cell. The guards were stationed at the cell to be sure the prisoner did not attempt suicide, as well as at each door leading through the dungeons and then up the castle.
The smell was the first thing to assault Pieter as he followed King Frederic down into the bowels of the castle. There was an eerily chill that seeped into his bones the further they made their way into the dungeon. Mold and moss grew on every surface of the perpetually wet stone. The place reeked of past death and despair.
They came upon the prisoner's cell within a few minutes the guard stood dutifully at the door and bowed in their presence. "Has he said anything?" King Frederic asked his voice hard.
"No, Your Majesty."
"Do we know his name?" Pieter asked as he tried to see the prisoner through the small barred opening in the thick oak door.
"No, Your Highness."
"Open the door." King Frederic ordered. The door opened with a screech revealing not only its age but lack of use. This was the first time Pieter was getting a good look at the man who'd shot his wife, the assassin Pieter thought for the first time. He was sitting against the far wall, looking straight at them, his eyes black and void of emotion. He did not attempt to stand or acknowledge he was in the presence of a King and Prince Consort. Pieter examined him, he was of average height with dark brown hair that was long and tied in a ponytail at the back. He had a close-cropped beard but no mustache. He was of the average build as well. Overall he was unremarkable in looks, which Peiter figured was a positive trait in a man of such a profession, assuming he was a professional assassin, they wouldn't know until they spoke to him.
"What is your name." King Frederic demanded, he appeared to have grown several inches in height as he addressed the man who'd tried to kill his niece. He emanated the presence and authority only a King could. The man said nothing.
"I asked you your name, now answer me." King Frederic questioned again. He held still waiting as the man said nothing, simply looked at them, his eyes hard.
Pieter could feel the anger in him building, he wanted to rip this man to shreds, to inflict as much pain upon him as the man had inflicted on Elsa and their family. The man's eyes focused on him and smirked, "Is the witch Queen dead?"
Pieter snapped he launched himself forward, it was only King Ferideric's quick reactions that saved Pieter's life because as Pieter leapt for him, the man stood, a shive made of wood appearing in his hands. The guard who'd entered with them but had stayed back moved forward as King Frederic pulled Pieter back, the shive missing Pieter by mere inches. The guard slammed the buttstock of his rifle first into the man's hand causing him to cry out and drop the shive, and then up into the man's face, shattering his nose and knocking him out.
King Frederic glared at Pieter, "That was stupid, he was clearly goating you, I knew I shouldn't have brought you." Pieter felt ashamed for his behavior, he'd played easily into the assassin's hands. "Throw him in the old oubliette, make sure there is no water in it first, we don't want him trying to drown himself. We'll see how willing he is to talk after a few days in there."
Pieter couldn't help but cringe at King Frederic's words; the oubliette was essentially a deep narrow hole in the dungeon floor with a grate over the top; the prisoner would be confined in darkness with no room to sit, kneel, or even move around. There would be no way to climb up to the grate. It was a truly horrific punishment and had likely not been used in a century. He said nothing to the king; however, he wanted answers and he wanted them as soon as possible, if King Frederic who was known to be a kind and just ruler, who'd outlawed most forms of torture deemed it necessary to use the oubliette, Pieter would not argue.
As they exited the dungeon on the ground floor of the castle's western side, King Frederic stopped and turned on his heel and took Pieter by his shoulders, "I know you are confused, angry, and possibly vengeful at the moment; you need to keep your head about you Pieter, your family and country need you right now more than ever. We don't know the motivation behind this attack, was it the act of a single madman, like the man who tried to shoot Queen Victoria, or is it a larger conspiracy against Arendelle. You need to be vigilant and smart right now, do you understand?'
Pieter nodded his head; he'd trained his entire adult life as a doctor, as a healer, the roles and responsibilities that he now faced were unfamiliar and daunting but he would do what his family and country needed. "Yes, Thank you."
"Corona is with Arendelle, the House of Schwerin is with the House of Arenfjord, we will stand with you and support you no matter the root of this attack. You hurt one in this family; you hurt all of us."
It was inspiriting to hear King Frederic say such words with such sincerity; despite most of Europe's royal families being related, they let politics destroy family connections. There was this common belief that by marrying into another royal family war prevented; Pieter had yet to see that be the case. In reality greed for more wealth and power always won out against family love and well-being.
They parted ways as they reached the main stairs; the left led to the resident wind of the castle where the royal family resided, to the right was the guest quarters. Pieter was at his destination within 5 minutes; he quietly opened the doors, his eyes landed on his sister-in-law. She was resting in a larger red and gold upholstered wingback chair. Her head resting to the left, her mouth slightly open and a ball of drool threatening to drop down her chin and onto her skirts. Her right hand lay limp in her lap; her left was stretched out resting on the armrest and then on the bed clasping a thin hand. Pieter's gaze traveled from the intertwined fingers up the pale hands, arms, across shoulders, up a long delicate neck, and finally to the face of his Queen. Elsa had survived the gunshot wound; the thin ice wall she had miraculously thrown up had done enough to deflect the bullet from the intended target, center chest, to the right shoulder; however, it had also slowed the bullet down. It stuck part of her collar bone fracturing, with some remaining in her collar bone and some continuing through and out her back down near her scapula. She was incredibly lucky the fragments had not ricocheted into her lungs or arteries. The Coronian Royal Physician had immediately conducted surgery to remove the bullet fragment from Elsa's collar bone and repair as much damage as he could. The entrance and exit wounds were closed and now it was a waiting game. Elsa had lost a lot of blood, and there was always a chance of infection after surgery. Pieter leaned down and kissed his wife's too cold, even for her, forehead and sat in his chair on her other side; he let his eyes travel to her stomach and closed them tightly, the reason Elsa had lost so much blood was not only due to her gunshot wound. The trauma from her fall off the carriage and the strain of the bullet wound had proven to be too much; she miscarried a few hours after surgery.
Pieter's heart broke again at the thought so he pushed it aside; his priority was his wife, he could reconcile with the loss of another child another day. The fetus had yet to pass and it was possible Elsa would have to give birth to the dead child in the coming weeks; this scared Pieter on multiple levels; Elsa had yet to wake up, her body spent; not to mention how she will be affected by having to give birth to a dead child. If the fetus did not come out naturally Elsa could get very sick and die. There was too much in the balance at the moment. The most important thing that needed to happen first was for Elsa to wake up.
It was about half an hour that groan came from his wife, he stood and looked down at her, he saw her blink her tired arctic blue eyes a few times before settling on him. "Pieter?" Her voice was tired and hoarse. Pieter poured a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed and lifted her head slightly to help her drink. After a few sips she relaxed, she was clearly confused. "What happened, I'm...sore."
Pieter leaned over and smoothed her hair on her head down, "You were shot." He saw her eyes widen in shock, then her hands moved to her stomach, causing her to yelp in pain as her right arm protested the movement.
"Don't move your arm, you have a broken collar bone," Pieter told her hoping to pull her attention from their baby. It didn't work.
"The baby?" There was so much hope in her quiet voice.
Pieter shook his head, "You began to bleed, we...we don't think it has survived."
Pieter felt helpless as she closed her eyes tightly and began to shake with tears. Carefully he slid into bed next to her and pulled her into him. She stiffened for a second and then melted into him, her wails growing louder as she let the horrific news of their child's death wash over her. Pieter vaguely remembered Anna stirring and slipping out of the room, likely to get the doctor.
XXXXXX
"What is it?" Elsa choked out her body sore from not only the trauma of being shot but from giving birth. Birth to a child who was already dead, who'd likely died three days prior.
"Your Majesty, we should take the child," the physician said, ushering the midwife to take the infant out of the room.
"No, I need to know, I need to see," Elsa yelled. She couldn't let them take her child, not yet.
"Ma'am it isn't wise; please allow us to take it," the physician tried to reason. Snow began to fall in the room, Elsa glared at the man.
"I want to see my child, now." She ordered, strength briefly returning to her being. The physician relented and gestured the midwife to take the child over to the exhausted queen. The other attendants assisted Elsa in sitting up, she ignored the pain radiating in her shoulder. Once upright the midwife lay the child swaddled in a white blanket on Elsa's chest, its little face visible. It was so small, barely a foot in length, weighing nothing on her.
"It is a girl, Ma'am." The midwife informed her. Elsa nodded her eyes only on the silent nearly translucent babe sleeping eternally on her. Elsa's heart fractured into millions of little pieces. There would be no way put in back together again completely, there would be missing fragments only.
"Elsa," his voice drew her attention away from her daughter momentarily, Pieter stood in the door, he looked unsure of what his next actions should be.
"Come, Pieter." She called him. He was swiftly at her side, his eyes growing wide at the sight of his child.
"We have a daughter." Elsa knew that they really had nothing, that the child had left this world before she had ever entered it, but as she held her daughter in her arms, felt her weight on her chest, saw her impossibly small body with minuscule fingers and nose, it was real, they had a daughter, even if just for an instant.
"How they don't usually…." his voice trailed off. They don't usually let the mothers see their child, they whisked the child away instantly wrapping it up, preparing it for burial before the mother has a chance to process the idea that her child is dead.
"Queen with snow powers," Elsa stated bluntly.
They stayed like that for a few more minutes before the midwife returned insisting they be permitted to take the child. Elsa didn't want to let go, she never want to let go, if she just kept holding her daughter then she would never have to bury her, never have to say goodbye without having said hello.
Pieter reached for her and looked into Elsa's eyes, she finally nodded her assent, and the cold weight left her, taking those fragments away. Pieter moved to give the child over but paused as he gazed upon his daughter's face again. "Do you want to name her?" His question was sudden and caught Elsa as well as the midwife off guard.
"Your Highness, I do not believe that would be in her Majesty's best interest." The midwife informed Pieter. He looked at her intently; "It is her Majesty's decision."
Elsa bit her lip, debating whether naming her daughter was the right thing to do, would it make her loss easier to bare; doubtful, but it also seemed right. "Yes," she paused her mind going through every name it could think of before finally stopping at the perfect three. "Astrid Engle Hilda." Beloved, Angel, Fighter.
"I love you, Astrid Engle Hilda," Elsa said as Pieter handed over their little angle. Elsa saw him caress Astrid's face before leaning down and kissing the baby. Then the midwife was gone. Elsa's heart shattered even further. Grief stronger than that she had felt when her parents died rolled over her like crashing waves on the cliffs of the fjords. Snow fell quickly, ice crept up the walls, and the room turned into an icy hell, yet through it all, Pieter stayed pulling her into his body as they lay on the bed lamenting the loss of their little Astrid.
XXXXXXX
They stood at the corner of the Coronian Royal Garden in the shadow of a larger Magnolia tree it's white blooms like stars in the sky. Below it was a bench before a small modest headstone with the inscription:
Prince of Corona
Matthew 19:14
Jesus said, " "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
It was the grave of King Frederic and Queen Arianna's first child, a stillborn, two years before Rapunzel. Beside it was a small dug out grave, a soul shatteringly tiny casket within it. In the coming days, a headstone would mark its place, the inscription the same as it's the partner's in all but name for it shall read 'Astrid Engle Hida, Crown Princess of Arendelle'.
Pieter could not ask for more than this beautiful place where his daughter would be laid to rest for all eternity beside her cousin. Astrid would be welcomed into the heavens by her cousin and brother both innocent angels lost too soon.
Pieter glanced behind him and up at the third balcony on the eastern tower; Elsa was too weak to join them in the garden for the memorial, but she was able to watch in a chair set on the balcony. It had been two days since the birth; Elsa spent from her magical manifestation of grief; had woken up only this morning. Pieter knew from experience that the road before them would be long and arduous; he just hoped the Lord would give him the strength to guide his wife through her grief. He was not alone this time; he could not afford the luxury to break down as he had before. He would need to be Elsa's pillar of strength. They would weather this storm.
"Pieter are you ready?" Anna asked as she came up beside him. Anna had been amazing the last few days; if Pieter was Elsa's pillar of strength, Anna was their foundation. Once Elsa was conscious and it was clear she would survive; Anna had jumped to action, fulfilling her role as temporary regent for the queen as her position as Crown Princess required. She wrote to the council explaining the events that had occurred and the Queen's health. She coordinated with King Frederic over the interrogation and trial of the assassin. Though most important of all she sat with her sister and let Elsa grieve with no reservations.
"Yes, please let us start." Anna and Rapunzel had planned the memorial, it was short with the Bishop saying some words and consecrating the grave, then they all dropped a flower upon the casket. Pieter then took a handful of soil and threw it on Astrid's grave. They finished with a hymn.
Pieter quickly made his way to Elsa; she was already in bed, a nurse finishing fluffing her pillows. He slid into the bed next to her; she stiffened for a split second before turning into him and crying. Pieter smoothed her hair and laid a kiss on her Crown. He said nothing; there was nothing to say; anything he uttered at this moment would be a meaningless platitude.
It began to flurry as Elsa's cries lessened and she fell asleep. Pieter joined her in slumber moments later, his dreams of a beautiful golden-haired green-eyed girl with porcelain skin and the laugh of an angel playing in a stunning garden with a brown-haired blue-eyed boy how resembled King Frederic as a child and third child; a caramel blonde-haired boy with hazel eyes when he turned to call for the girl Pieter knew it was his son.
A/N: I decided to write out the geography for you, but didn't feel like changing my above author's note.
Arendelle: encompasses all of the southern tip of Norway from Haugesund southeast in a near direct diagonal line to Akland.
Vakretta: has replaced the Netherlands
Weselton: has replaced Holstein
The Southern Isles: replaces Denmark
Please Review
Coronia replaces: Mecklenburg Schwerin, Mecklenburg Strelitz, and the northern most portion of Northwest Brandenburg on the coast
