Chapter 20

Wisps of flames ghosted the back of their necks as the cave swayed around them. Their muscles gripped onto their bones, feeling the edges of heated iron burn the hair on their necks. Andy choked on the knot growing in his throat, keeping his eyes locked on the rocky ground under them, and not the edge of the ledge right beside them. Each swallow seemed to make the rope, despite being weighed down by layers of fur, dig deeper against him.

The tip of a flint nicked the side of Andy's neck, eliciting a thin trail of blood quickly burning onto his flesh. Andy slammed his teeth down on his bottom lip and swallowed down the cry welling in his chest. His ears strained to catch the fiery dance of their words flying over them to no avail. He blinked away the warmth roiling at the corners of his eyes as he silently cursed his self.

Egil nudged his shoulder against his. "Is it just me," he whispered, "or are their heads getting bigger?"

Andy rolled his eyes, lightly thumping the back of his head against Egil's. "Yours if you can joke at a time like this!" Andy hissed quietly.

"I'm not. I'm seriously starting to see their heads grow."

Andy groaned, hating to admit that the blood pooling in his head was starting to make him see double as well. He didn't have to be right side up however to feel a million eyes prying at their tied forms from afar as the other people of the mountain shot them wary glances.

Andy nibbled on his bottom lip, eyeing the pole of another heated flint, and murmured, "If only we could explain ourselves."

"Well, according to these lovely guards," Egil replied, watching two heavily armored soldiers bicker from the corner of his eye while the others held their spits at them, "we should be either tossed off the ledge or be burned to death with their spears."

Andy's brows shot up. "You understand them?"

"More or less."

"Then explain to them why we're here!"

Andy felt Egil's shoulder shrug against his as he snapped, "I said I understand them. That doesn't mean I can speak it."

"Of all the—how can you only understand them?"

"What kind of prince on a mission can't speak the destination's language?"

"I can," Andy's cheeks flushed. "Just…not well…"

"Unbelievable," Egil held back a snort. "And you're getting on me about this."

Andy jerked his shoulder against Egil only for him to jerk back when they heard the flints tear through their furs and graze their abdomens. They instantly froze, swallowing down any retorts. Andy carefully sunk his stomach back away from the iron brushing through the torn fabric, shivering at the gust of ashy air blowing through, and swallowed thickly.

The bickering came to an abrupt halt with one of the men shouting orders. Andy felt Egil stiffen against him, swearing under his breath. The next whisper clung onto Andy's tongue as the guards wielding the flints and irons shuffled around them. The iron hovering against Andy pulled back, only to slam forward into his side. A strangled scream tore from Andy's throat as Egil echoed his pain. A flint drove through the thick burlaps of fur into Egil's shoulder, digging deeper until the tip brushed against Andy's own shoulder. The jabs of iron and flints began assaulting them from all angles; threads withering into nothing under the molten heads of iron.

The stench of scalding flesh and faint traces of blood burned through Andy's nose as he felt his skin mold under the molten iron and break from the flints striking against him. Pain throbbed throughout his body, taking over his heartbeat with a newfound rhythm, when a voice pierced through their cries.

The guards froze, turning towards the shouting, and immediately backed away from Andy and Egil. The two wheezed, each breath punching the wind out of them instead, barely catching the commands booming from the new voice until the rope holding them up was cut. They fell to the ground in a tangled heap with their heads bruising along the rocky path. The rope around them loosened and tore as the guards began to pull them apart. The voice barked at them, their grips softening instantly as the voice gave them orders.

Andy blinked through unshed tears as he glanced at Egil. Blood intermingled with sweat trickled over his eye, welling it shut, from the gash digging overhead his eyebrow. Dark crimson blossomed along the shoulder of his cloak that barely covered the sweltering puckers of burns racking down his exposed torso. Andy felt his body shudder as if the other's pain had manifested upon him. He dropped his gaze to Egil's clenched hand; a white mist of ice beginning to creep around it. Andy shakily clasped his hand over Egil's and gently squeezed, ignoring the vicious bite of ice upon his fingers. Egil winced, staring wide eyed at Andy as the boy shook his head. The ice crinkling over his fist instantly subsided when the guards began to haul him away.

Andy's glassy eyes followed the man's tattered, cloak engulf him into a white blur as he was pulled away from him; burning its way into the shadows until there was nothing left but the overwhelming ash. A sharp pain ripped through Andy's stomach, his hand groping towards the white cloak until he fell on his side. He spluttered onto the ground, curling into his self when a guard heaved him up. Andy blindly reached for Egil as he was carried in the opposite direction, flashes of a young boy donned in white being dragged into the dark—into a slaughter house only to come out in another's blood—devouring his mind.

"No. No. Please," Andy murmured hysterically, "Don't go…don't leave me…" Andy's vision swayed into darkness with a flash of one last image—of a foreign smile from long ago—piercing through him that the burns could never reach. He whimpered, "Not again."

The thundering roar of rain drowned the fjord that night.

Splatters of rain were whipped by the wind as never ending shadows sullied the sky. Broken pieces of silhouettes crept across the great hall, inching closer with each bolt of light that whisked across the windows.

Andy watched thick droplets dance along the tiled floor; the warmth of mosaic speckles slowly being drained. He caught a flicker of his own shape warped across the floor, stark black against the white light behind it, and for a moment thought he saw his self. A taller, broader version of his self squirming at the edges of his being to spring free. It flickered at the edge of his shoes, waning further away from him, and disappeared. He blinked, frowning at his failed chance to wave at the glimpse of his future when he followed the broken trail to the back of another man.

The man chuckled dryly, kneeling on one knee in front of portrait covered by a crimson veil. "I'm sorry." The apology cracked into a hoarse plea. "I always do this, don't I? When I finally come around to it, it always seems to rain the worse."

Andy's hands crushed the edges of his shirt at the defeated sigh and called, "Daddy."

The man raised his head, glancing over his shoulder at the boy. A smile shrugged at the corner of his mouth. "Anders. I didn't realize you came in." He plopped back onto the floor and patted his leg. "Come say hi to mommy."

Andy's stomach twisted into a knot, yet he scurried over, practically throwing his self into the man's lap. King Agdar wrapped his arms around Andy and rested his chin on his head. He shifted them towards the veiled portrait where a black casket lined with silver rested beneath it. Andy tightened his fingers around Agdar's arms, resting his back against him.

"Daddy," Andy said. Agdar looked down at the boy as he asked, "What were you saying sorry for?"

"I…" Agdar's smile dropped and sighed. "I was planning on moving her out into the garden—you know how much she loved the garden—but it seems whenever I plan to do so it rains…it never stops raining."

Andy's brows furrowed as he looked away. He didn't know his mother loved the garden.

He didn't know what his mother really loved.

Agdar caught Andy's distraught glance and pulled him closer. "I'm sorry Anders! I get so wrapped up that I keep forgetting you…" he trailed off until he gasped excitedly. "Anders, when the rain stops, how about I take you out to the garden! You'll get to see all the flowers that mommy used to care for."

Andy blinked at the glimmer beneath his red tinged eyes; the idea sparking the golden green orbs brighter than the candles could ever shine. Andy squeezed his arms and nodded. A grin split across Agdar's face as he pressed his lips to Andy's forehead, tickling the skin with the hint of his mustache.

"Daddy!" Andy squealed. "I'm too big!"

"You'll never be too big for daddy's kisses!" Agdar chuckled, tightening his arms around the boy's tiny frame.

"Kisses are for girls." Andy huffed.

Agdar's smile softened and rested his chin on Andy's head again.

"You're so much like your mother." Agdar murmured. "She never wanted daddy's kisses either. So mean." Andy rolled his eyes while Agdar continued, "But…she always gave me flowers though. Every day before I woke, a new vase of flowers would turn up right on my bedside. They would always be from her garden. I think she liked living there than her own room. And at every chance I had, I would run out to the balcony just to get a glance of her surrounded by her kingdom of flowers."

"You never saw her?" Andy asked.

Agdar's breath hitched. "Yes, of course I saw her. We were married after all. It's just…" Andy's brows rose quizzically as he turned away. His voice grew tight as if strung on a string he wasn't supposed to be using. "She always seemed…distant. As if those kingdom of flowers were her only escape from the world. The rain was the only time I had her inside."

Andy felt a shiver wrack down his back as he stared up at the thick veil over his mother's portrait. Through the crimson draping over it, Andy felt as though the he was being devoured by an endless sea of red.

A small squeak whined from the door suddenly. Andy glanced at the door, his skin flushing at the figure standing there. Ingvar, wrapped in the royal, white garbs of House Vetur, locked his gaze on them. His steel, gray eyes darkened from Agdar to Andy, growing stormier by the minute until he turned away. Right at his heels was another boy in a white tunic mirroring Ingvar's. The boy paused at the door to glance inside. Andy's fingers twitched and raised towards the door, stretching out for the other when the boy's hands balled into fists and turned away.

A howl of wind and thunder devoured the boy's footsteps as he disappeared. Andy's hand dropped to his lap, his other hand clinging tighter to his father's arm. Another bolt of lightning flashed across the window, leaving the shattered remains of rain droplets dripping down a window upon the veil.

"Anders, are afraid of a little storm?" Agdar looked down at Andy and gently carded his fingers through his hair.

Andy's eyes were glued to the door, trembling as he nodded absentmindedly.

"It's just a storm," Agdar said. "The only thing it can do, is trick you into being afraid."

Andy blinked, nodding on command, and turned back to the veiled portrait. Through the faint shadow of the veil, Andy caught the faintest hint of silvery blue rousing behind the veil. Andy leaned back into his father's chest and whimpered. The eyes followed him, waiting for him to the faint shadow of blue in her eyes ghosted behind the veil to watch him crumble.

"Daddy." Andy said. "What are Uncle Ingvar and Elias doing?"

"Oh them?"Agdar said. "When the weather is terrible like this, Ingvar likes to have Elias learn more about his and your mother's heritage—outside of Arendelle I mean. Or he'll have him practice his magic." Agdar paused, his lips thinning into a tight line.

"Your brother is very powerful Anders—more powerful than the world can ever imagine. According to your uncle, he'll be ready to conquer lands before he even turns 12."

Agdar hugged Andy close to him, his breath tickling his ear, and whispered, "You know Anders, as much as I don't like storms, they…make it so I have more time with your mother. And even though I can't hold him like this, your brother even. So long as it rains, so long as it storms, they're with us in here for a moment longer.

"It's a horrible thing for me to say, but for just a second more—I'll take any storm."

Andy stared up at his father and then at the casket. He placed his tiny hand over his father's, leaning back against him until his head rested on his shoulder.

"I don't like storms either Daddy," Andy murmured, "but…"

I'll be the storm even, if it keeps him from leaving.

Andy twitched, forcing his eyes to open as the memory faded into far corners of his mind. He flicked his gaze around the small cavern with spheres of golden light fluttering around him. He carefully propped himself up on an elbow, his head spinning at the mere motion, and reached for one of the spheres. As if on command, the sphere floated closer to him and rested in his palm. Andy shivered at the warmth pulsing through the sphere that seemed to sink through his skin and touch his very bones.

Andy jerked out of his awe as muffled voices grew louder. He turned to the edge of the cavern where a thick piece of cloth hovered over the opening. Andy shrank back under the covers until the cloth ruffled to the side. Two guards hovered outside of the cavern while a woman ducked in.

She stared at Andy huddled under the covers. A flurry of words fell from her mouth as she approached him, yet Andy could do no more than ogle her. Her brows furrowed down at him, speaking again with another, lighter tone. Another blank stare passed and Andy felt his cheeks burn.

"I," Andy stumbled over the dialect, wracking his mind for the proper tone. "I…mean no harm."

The woman blinked at him before bursting into a fit of chuckles. Andy swore that if the floating spheres or burning flints didn't burn him alive, the blush on his cheeks would. The woman held her side and kneeled down.

"I can see that."

Andy jumped as if her words physically slapped him, ogling her and wishing that the covers could just swallow him whole. She rested her elbow on one knee and tilted her head at him. A thick wave of loosely braided locks cascaded over her shoulder. A dark shade of gold caught along her dark brown hair as her eyes bore into Andy's.

"I see the aurums treated you well," she said, nodding to the floating spheres. Andy, not trusting his tongue that had swelled to the roof of his mouth, nodded in return. The woman narrowed her eyes on his, and said, "You…look familiar. You are not from these mountains are you?"

"No." Andy felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "I come from the Seer Kingdom of the nine realms actually."

The woman arched an eyebrow. "You are from a noble family?"

"Not exactly. My name is Anders of Arendelle, second in line to the—"

"I knew it!"

Andy paused at her widening eyes, a giddy smile gracing her lips. She ran a hand through her hair with a breathless laugh, exclaiming, "I knew I saw those eyes somewhere before."

Andy's heart swelled in his chest, his tongue tangling words in excitement. He brushed his palms against the covers, the sweat pooling upon them faster than before, as he gathered his words together. Yet before he could utter a sound, she said, "Now I can kill you myself."


A/N: One word - College (shiver). Gosh, I've missed working on this. You're reviews gave me the determination to power through this chapter. Please let me know what you look forward to or if you have any critiques-critique me! I hope you enjoyed! :)