Chapter Twenty-Four
Elsa was now standing in what felt like a funeral procession. It was led by a few sailors who doubled as guards, then Captain Peter, first mate Silje, and the brothers, who were all huddled together. Elsa was at the back of the line and in chains. "They're very loose chains," Jørgen had assured. "I promise they're only for show."
The plan was this; they'd hurry out of the ship and into town, then try and raise a hell of a rebellion. United, they could overthrow the man on the throne. Jørgen was sure of this plan. He had to be if his life was potentially next.
So in chains, she was led off the ship. Her feet dragged across the ground, no doubt scuffing the borrowed boots in the process. It was incredible how quickly everything had shattered. And still, she couldn't believe Hans was the one who had been behind the killings.
A flash of black suddenly flew past her peripheral vision and caused her to look up. One of the men yelled, pointing at the figure that Elsa now realized was a person cloaked in darkness. They were dressed head to toe in black, covering all but the eyes.
"Who dares interrupt the path of Captain Westergard?" one of the men in the front boldly asked, drawing a pistol and pointing at the figure's head.
The person's eyes- amused and so dark they were almost black- shrunk to slits. The person held no weapon, but didn't appear deterred by the gun to the head. All they did was stand up straight and put their hands together.
The man with the pistol was unnerved; Elsa could see the weapon shaking in his hand. The former queen was highly anxious too, even as the whole crew tried to bustle Jørgen- who looked like he was about to collapse out of sheer terror- back onto the ship. This was the killer, and they were out in broad daylight. This was so unlike the pattern. They'd never been seen until the night her and Anna found the body of Charles.
What was different this time?
Hans was free.
Hans had nothing to lose now. Why should he tell the killer to keep to the shadows anymore? Elsa nearly fell over backwards, and not because of the rush to get away from the person who was now shedding a glove to reveal a tan, thin hand.
The man with the pistol dropped the gun and yelped, jumping and turning his attention to the ground. The killer, with one free hand, pounced at the chance, and ran to the poor sailor. He looked up and held his hands out, but this seemed to be what the killer wanted. They barely grabbed the man's hand and the sailor collapsed on the spot, body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
This increased the panic. Sailors were now screaming and frantically jumping over one another to get away from the figure who had just killed with a touch.
Why was this familiar?
Elsa knew something about the killer. She stared at the figure who was dusting their hand off. But how?
She was caught in the rush, shoved back onto the ship. She hit the planks and her wrist only slightly hurt when she landed on it. Still, she winced and felt something cold and sharp pass through her fingertips.
Elsa's eyes widened. If her fingertips were cold on both hands...? With a sudden glance, she saw that the chains that had been dropped by the sailors had just a slightly frosted look to them. Her wrist was healed enough that the magic could pass through her hands again! If she took off the gloves, then she'd be able to freeze and break the chains, just as she had in her own dungeon last year.
Her heart began to beat. What was to gain? She watched the panicking sailors, Jørgen nowhere in sight. Peter was yelling over the cries, shouting for them to take up arms, they could handle one magician! Silje had armfuls of weapons and was passing them to the few brave souls who hadn't already retreated.
The killer was climbing the plank up onto the ship. They'd left a trail of two more unfortunates lying cold on the ground. Elsa had to break out.
But what was to gain?
She'd been kept going by the thought that maybe her life might be worthwhile after being stripped of her crown if only she could bring this killer down. And now her chance stood before her.
But if Hans had been behind this the whole time... then who was she avenging? Why bother anymore if it was all a lie?
The killer had laid their hand on the back of a sailor's neck. Elsa watched all the light suddenly burn out of their face in half a second. The sailor fell to her knees, then collapsed. And Elsa couldn't breathe because for a moment, she saw Anna standing there. She saw Anna's life burn away and saw Anna collapse and if Hans was the mastermind then who was to say Anna hadn't already been burned away?
Elsa ripped her gloves off faster than she could think. Ice poured through the veins in her hand again and the cold never felt so good. Though her bad wrist was still sore, she tore away the bandages and the splint. She didn't care if she ruined her hand forever; she didn't care if she ruined her life. But she would not let the killer escape this ship.
The chains froze under her touch and she pulled her arms forward with a grunt. The metal snapped like twigs.
The noise drew the attention of the crew. Silje and Peter were scared stiff, she could see. But they didn't matter anymore. She wanted to tell them to let her have this fight, but it looked like most of the sailors had already decided to high tail it away.
Six people lay on the killer's path of destruction, and only now did they seem to notice Elsa. They stopped in their tracks, letting someone who they'd nearly touched escape. The killer looked like they'd been frozen simply by Elsa's gaze. The two engaged in a still, silent battle for moments before Elsa took a step forward, feeling the air turn cold around her.
She could hear Peter and Silje behind her, telling her to get away from the killer and to put the gloves back on immediately. Were they really so terrified of magic that they couldn't see she was trying to help? She paid them no attention anyway.
Elsa stepped again, then again, until she was finally walking. "Where... is my sister?"
The killed straightened their back, but didn't say a word.
"Where is my sister?" she asked again, striding. "Did you kill her? Did Hans tell you to kill her, or did he do it himself?"
Now the killer only looked confused. Their hands which had previously been up slumped to their sides and their head cocked ever so slightly. Elsa's vision was blurred and she realized there were tears threatening to spill, but she grit her teeth and moved faster.
"How much are you being paid? What has he offered you? Did he tell you he wanted you?"
Her hands flung up and an immense trail of ice burst from her hands. It felt like her wrist was breaking all over again, but tears were already streaming down her face and her teeth were clenched so hard, she was afraid they'd break.
And for a brief second, she felt... free again. Like she had on the north mountain when t he two soldiers from Weselton were trying to shoot her down but her ice was quicker. And she'd nearly impaled one and pushed the other off her balcony and she'd felt good.
But as the ice cleared, the killer was nowhere to be seen. Elsa turned and saw the person had jumped out of the way and with panicked eyes, watched Elsa find them. The panic in those eyes made some animal instinct in Elsa come to life. The killer was now the prey.
"And Kristoff!" she yelled, shooting bolts of frozen daggers one at a time. "What of him? Did you make him watch her die? Or did you kill him first and make her watch? Did you kill the mountain man who never did a bit of bad in his life? How could you take his life?"
The killer was dancing to keep themselves alive, dodging icicle after icicle. Elsa must have looked a lunatic, but she thought all the better. Keep them dancing.
"And what about me? When did Hans plan to come back and burn my heart out?"
The killer danced further onto the ship. Elsa didn't notice that the killer was dancing closer to where Captain Peter stood.
Her mind was racing so fast that she couldn't think of anything else to say. She just yelled and tossed furious flurries towards the murderer.
But the killer evaded and suddenly jumped at the wide eyed Captain Peter. Elsa stopped suddenly, watching the horror unfold before her as the killer's bare hand struck flesh. But it wasn't Peter.
First mate Silje fell to the deck with a thud, cold and lifeless. She'd jumped in front of her captain at the second to last moment, and now she was staring at Elsa with a dead gaze.
The former queen stopped, mouth hanging open. Silje was staring at her, looking with panic as if to say, "don't let me die in vain".
And Elsa was shaking, but she looked up and saw both the killer and Peter stare at the body. Peter yelled in horror, reaching out for his first mate. The killer held their arm out again, ready to touch the captain, but their hand didn't meet skin.
Elsa- thinking clearly for the first time that day- concentrated. She thought back to her lessons. If nothing about Hans had been real, at least his lessons still stood. Elsa focused on Peter and constructed a dome of ice to enclose him, then shot it out as fast as possible.
The killer's hand met ice as a shocked Peter found himself enclosed. The killer was confused, then grew angry. They bashed against the encasement, but it was to no avail.
They weren't paying attention to Elsa anymore. This was her chance. She could finish this here and now. Elsa slowly raised her hands as the killer kicked the side of the glimmering dome.
Something told Elsa to stop, she didn't have to kill. She didn't have to do this. But she thought of Anna. She thought of Anna, scared as Hans revealed himself a second time. Anna's face void of life and full of terror as she collapsed.
She raised her hands, aiming for the head. Steady, steady...
"Elsa!"
She took the shot, but swerved, caught by surprise by the mention of her name. She heard the killer cry out in the same voice she'd heard that night below the waterfall by the graves, speaking to the other woman. Elsa turned back to the killer, and saw she'd missed the head, but they were holding their cheek. She'd grazed the killer.
The killer turned, and Elsa saw their face for the first time. She had skin darker than the wood of the boat and crimson blood dripping from the side of her face. The killer narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips. With one last look at the dome with her prey still inside, then a look over the ship where there was some point of interest, and then finally back to Elsa, she seemed to make a choice. In a flash, the murderess bolted across the ship and leaped into the sea.
Elsa would have chased her if her heart wasn't pounding. That voice that had caused her to throw off course, to spare the killer's life. That voice was one she thought she'd never hear again. Had it been a hallucination? Had she spared a killer because she was going mad?
"Elsa!"
She held her breath. This couldn't be a dream. She stumbled over to the side of the boat and lost her ability to think as she watched three figures hustling as fast as they could towards the ship. A blonde, buff man, a women with two flying braids, and a man in the middle that at the very sight made Elsa's heart stop beating.
Kristoff, Anna, and Hans were all running with sheathed swords, about to dock the ship. Elsa was weak at the knees. Her adrenaline high was wearing down and her wrist began to sear with pain, but she didn't care. Anna was running, Anna was yelling, Anna was alive.
And they're running alongside Hans.
Her mind raced and her heart pumped and she slid down the wall, sitting down as the three thundered up the ramp. They all stopped at the top, faces red and breaths heavy. They searched frantically for their target, whatever it was.
"Where's the killer?" Kristoff said through his thick breaths.
Anna was gasping, bent over with hands on her knees. She shook her head. "I...I dunno. Escaped?"
But Hans was looking around actively, chest heaving as he tried to breathe again. Elsa stared helplessly, unable to speak or think or move.
And then he saw her.
Without missing a beat, Hans moved to her side like lightening, sliding to his knees. He was so close. Elsa wouldn't have been paler if she was dead.
"Elsa, Elsa," was all he said, gasping for breath. He was touching her face, holding her hand. "Elsa, are you okay?"
She couldn't move. She only stared at the prince that she'd once thought was good, then thought was bad, then thought was good, then thought was bad. And now she couldn't think anything about him.
He didn't stop asking her. "Elsa, are you okay? Did they hurt you? Please tell me you're not hurt."
A sound like glass shattering broke the air that was filled with only gasping breaths and panicked questions. Elsa looked to her side and saw Peter breaking through her ice dome. And he did not look happy.
"Hans," he growled, but the prince didn't turn. He was still trying to get an answer from Elsa.
Anna stood straight up again and saw Peter. She tapped Kristoff's arm and pointed. The mountain man saw that the only danger here was walking straight towards them.
"Hans, the killer's gone. We need to leave before-"
"Hans!" Peter roared.
A few curious faces popped out of the hiding places they'd fled to when the killer was there. Seeing two strange people and one not-so-strange one, they all began talking excitedly and flocking out as Peter strode towards Hans. But still, the thirteenth prince took no notice.
Abstract thoughts began to form into letters, words, sentences in Elsa's mind. She had so much to say. She opened her mouth to answer, sound nearly falling from her lips, but Peter had gotten to Hans. Suddenly the man with the fiery hair and the green eyes that had never looked so concerned before was taken from her proximity and the words left without being said.
For the first time since he'd spotted her, Hans looked away from Elsa. He grunted, struggling with the iron grasp of his older brother.
Peter tried to say something, but he was so mad that it just came out as bumbling, furious noise. Hans writhed in his arms like a snake, but he couldn't slither away.
Elsa got a grip on the side of the boat, pulling herself up onto shaky legs. Kristoff noticed her and immediately dashed to help as Anna tended to the princes.
"No, no, no," she was saying to Peter, though the words fell on deaf ears. "No, he was trying to help, let him go!"
The crowd gathered quicker than water from a broken dam. Among the crowd, Elsa saw the white-faced Jørgen, looking like he'd just woken from a nightmare. Kristoff still held Elsa's arm, which she was grateful for; there was no way she'd stand on her own.
Hans stopped struggling, realizing it was useless. He again found Elsa with pleading, evergreen orbs. He didn't ask the question again, but she could read it; Are you okay?
She nodded very slowly, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Jørgen fought his way to the front, eyes dilated three times their normal size. It was evident he hadn't enjoyed his welcome home.
"I-is the killer gone?" Jørgen asked with a voice an octave higher than usual.
Peter squeezed Hans, grunting, "Answer the question."
The prince closed his eyes, wincing. "I don't know."
"You damn well know," Peter growled. Elsa was beginning to see where Hans' horror stories about the brothers took root.
"I don't know!" he insisted, breathless as Peter squeezed him harder.
"The killer's gone!" Anna spoke up. "They left before we got here."
Jørgen stared at the princess like she was the murderer herself. "Who are you?"
"Princess Anna of Arendelle."
Murmurs arose from the sailors. Princess Anna was alive? What was she doing beside the castaway prince?
Jørgen shook his head, waving his hands towards her. "G-get them, grab them."
"What?" Anna asked, but she was already being held back by a sailor. Others tore Kristoff from Elsa and captured him. Elsa was standing, but only just. Her burst of energy had long been forgotten by her body.
Jørgen mumbled something, shaking his head again. "No, no, get her too."
And though the sailors hesitated for a second, Elsa found her arms pressed against her back. She didn't struggle, but she didn't understand.
"I...I saved you," Elsa said.
Jørgen made a noise like a hurt animal, then cleared his throat. "I had one rule. I said don't take off the gloves. I said don't take off the gloves."
"I saved you!" she said, stronger. Why were they holding her back?
"You didn't save Silje," Peter growled, wringing Hans like a wet rag.
Elsa opened her mouth but was silent. He was right, she hadn't saved Silje. That woman with the confident eyes and the missing teeth, who had saved her captain by jumping and taking the touch of death. She hadn't-
Peter. The cogs in Elsa's mind came to a grinding halt, then turned another way. The killer was after Peter.
Jørgen was saying something to Hans, but Elsa didn't hear. The man with the pale face and shaking hands wasn't the one who'd nearly been touched by the killer. It was Peter she'd been after.
Elsa was about to voice her breakthrough, but a pair of gloves were suddenly shoved on her hands, causing her to jump.
She glanced to Jørgen in alarm. She silently asked why, but his terrified eyes gave away nothing.
"You've obviously been working with him this whole time," Jørgen explained. "He was willingly playing prisoner as you plotted. He didn't even try to kill you, did he? He found another actor to... to get away with this plan!"
Elsa furrowed her brow. "I-"
"Y-you led us here on purpose!" he stammered. "You had to wait to ambush us until we got to land! You didn't think we'd capture you, you thought you could get away! Y-y-you..." but Jørgen had nothing more to say. He could only point and shake his head, as if he were a broken toy.
"Take them to the dungeon," Peter finished. "Sorcery isn't welcome here."
For a brief moment, Elsa spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Anderson was turning nearly as pale as his oldest living brother. She wished he would have let her speak to him about his son. She wished she could have told him that his son was fine.
And suddenly they were mobilized, cautiously hurrying down the dock and towards the castle. Elsa could hear Anna yelling at her captor and at the brothers, but she didn't process the words. Kristoff seemed to be protesting too, but in his less pronounced way. Hans was in front of them, and looked back at Elsa once before his head was shoved back forward with a stern yell.
So many things pulsed through the former queen at once. So much had happened in so little time, and the once-honored guest of the princes was being toted off to rot in the dungeons. Anna and Kristoff were alive and they trusted Hans. Hans wasn't behind the murders after all. She'd fooled herself into believing that the man who could make her feel immortal with the slightest brush on the lips had faked it all?
Her heart felt warmer than it had in weeks. She could almost feel the gentlest touch of his hands, his hot blood heating her own body as they stood together, the kiss that felt like an untranslatableomise.
Hans was not behind the killings. Hans was innocent of this crime. Hans actually wanted me, her head screamed. Hans was genuine. Hans was telling the truth.
And as she was stuffed into the cell, she briefly remembered the face of the killer. The woman with the dark eyes and skin and the touch that killed. This wasn't the first time that she'd been to the Southern Isles. With the click of the lock on her cell, Elsa knew the name of the Westergard's murderer.
Princess Bhumi.
And the painful separation from Hans is finally over! I hope you all weren't too hurt by Elsa's mind being turned against him, but it's sorted out now. Let's get them kissing again, huh?
Oh, also, we know who the killer is now. But there's still another person behind this; who do you think the other woman is? And why is Bhumi killing the royal family? There's still a few mysteries left to be unraveled.
Thanks to the constast supporters; you keep me inspired!