● Andy ●
The second night in a row, Andy dreamed the same dream.
There is ice in your heart, and your brother put it there, the old troll had said. From there it was a series of little pieces of memories flashing one after the other, in very quick succession. A frozen fjord, a fire crystal pulsing with life, racing against all odds to reach the castle, two heavy gates opening... and then it would stop. It would come to a halt in the worst part.
The study.
Dark as ever, and even colder, the only source of light and warmth being the fireplace. But then that light was put out-
She would be there, perfectly poised, a lazy smile on her lips. But her features weren't soft and pretty, they looked jagged, and she looked like she was made of glass. Her smile would stretch wide, so wide, and it would reveal pointy teeth that looked like they belonged to a shark. And then she would pounce at his face-
The dream ended. It always ended there.
It was probably a good thing, that it ended there, and that the nightmare was muted, because if he had to hear those words- hear her say-
"If only there was someone out there who loved you."
Andy woke with a sharp intake of breath, running his hands through his hair like it was on fire, then his cheeks, his throat- orienting, feeling for warmth. Thawed. Human. But the memories were too fresh, barely days since the ice had clawed into his lungs, blinded his eyes, froze blood and bone. He tried to steady his breathing as he looked around, taking in the scene-
He was on the floor, surrounded by blankets and pillows. Why in the world was he-
"Andy?"
"Gods-!" Andy jerked back and blinked harder, trying to get his eyes to adjust. He pulled the fur lined blanket up to his chin, hiding his non-existent breasts.
Bright blue eyes peered at him through the darkness. The only light came from the moon outside, which made his brother's hair look white. He was laying a few feet away, he'd propped himself up on his elbow, his other arm was hugging a pillow. And then Andy remembered- they'd built a pillow fort, because Andy was just childish like that. He demanded they make up for all the lost time as soon as possible- building a pillow fort and sleeping in it had been very high on his list of Things Elliot And I Will Do At All Costs.
Being the king and all Elliott had been a little reluctant, but at Andy's insistence, they'd done it. They had asked Kai to find every blanket- wool, fur, anything would do. And every pillow- from simple stuffing to goose feathers, they had it. His older brother would never admit it, but he'd had plenty of fun. They both had.
"Are you okay?"
"I- um, I'm fine," Andy lied. Elliott had plenty to worry about after the Great Thaw, he did not need to stress over Andy's nightmares too. He lay back down and shivered at the nonexistent cold in the room, "I kinda forgot you were there." He grabbed a pillow and put it over his face, not wanting to see Elliott's piercing stare anymore.
"Are you cold?"
"No," he lied again, his voice muffled from the pillow, "It's just a little drafty in here, is all."
"It's not," he could still feel Elliott's gaze on him, "Then again, it's not like I would know," his brother laughed uneasily. Oh, yeah, the whole immunity to the cold thing. For the past few days, his brother had been mixing his regular clothes with ice ones he made for himself. He always seemed a little more confident in the ice outfits. After a pause, he heard Elliott shift in his spot, "You were having a nightmare."
He wasn't asking it, he was stating it. Andy didn't bother to lie again. "It's nothing."
Elliott sighed and crawled towards him. He pulled the pillow away from his face and tossed it behind him. "If- if it's her you're worried about, you don't have to- she's locked up. They should come for her any day now, and she'll be out of our lives forever."
"When?" Andy didn't mean to make it sound so demanding, but that's how it came out. He could not wait for her to leave, to stop haunting him, to get over- over everything-
"Soon. Trust me, I don't want her here either," Elliott cast him one last, determined look before he shuffled back to his own nest of blankets. "We'll see about her trial..." Elliott snuggled back on his covers, "If it goes sour, Helena Westergard could be executed." He didn't sound happy, or sad, or shocked- just neutral, factual. A bell rang inside Andy's head.
"Executed! Elliott- she's... she's..." Andy sat up with a start, his wide eyes locked on his brother's back, "She's a sociopath, no doubt, but- I mean..."
Nobody deserved that. It was- no, it just couldn't be allowed. He'd rather have her living a thousand leagues away than dead right there. Besides, he'd turned it over a thousand times inside his mind- he didn't think Helena to be truly and purely evil, there was more to her than that, a part of her he could not understand, but pondering about it now made his head hurt so he left it alone.
His brother sat up again, meeting Andy's panicked face, "I do not wish to see her dead, if that's what you're- gods, I don't want that." Elliott rubbed at the gathering stubble on his jaw, "But it's not up to me. I don't know how the Southern Isles justice system works, if they'll let Arendelle carry the trial- I don't know... Her sister is the queen- Astrid, is it?"
"Astrid," Andy confirmed, remembering with how much resentment Helena had spoken about her oldest sibling a million years ago when they'd walked all around the palace arm-in-arm. Had that really happened? It felt like a dream. Like it had happened to someone else. Back when he'd thought the princess was an open door to love and he'd been so foolish-
"There you go. I don't think Astrid would allow her youngest sister to... you know, die," Elliott said, but he didn't sound as confident as he probably wanted to. "We'll... we'll see, I guess. It's not like-"
Aggressive pounding on the door made him stop mid sentence.
"STOP THE GOSSIP YOU TWO, IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT."
Anyone else would have paid dearly for yelling at the king and prince of Arendelle that way, but General Winter wasn't anyone else. He was like an adorable and deadly grandfather who could make you smile with snowballs or murder you with his bare hands. Andy wasn't sure if the magical snowman needed sleep, but it was well-known that their snowy friend hated any sort of talking.
Andy stifled a boyish giggle that threatened to escape, "Okay, gramps, good night!"
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"
Elliott laughed as he lay back down, and Andy did the same. Get in trouble with the authority, check, he thought, from his Things Elliot And I Will Do At All Costs list. General Winter was the closest thing to authority the king would get scolded by, so he might as well make that one count and get on with the list.
"It'll be okay. We'll be okay," he heard Elliott yawn from the other side. His brother liked to sleep curled up, like a cat, while Andy enjoyed occupying as much space as possible, his limbs everywhere. "Good night."
"Night."
He dreamed of a rose garden made of ice.
● Krista ●
"Run this by me again- you said no?"
"Yes."
Bulda groaned and smacked the blonde girl's leg, which was a little very painful, since the hands were broad and they were stone.
"Krista Bjorgman! I did not raise you to be this way!" the troll huffed angrily. Krista turned away from her, but there really was nowhere to run, her little hut only had so much space, and most of it was occupied by Suri's big reindeer self. Bulda rolled in front of her quick as a ninja, blocking her path.
"Raise me what way, Ma?" Krista tried to sidestep her, but her mother clung to her leg like a koala, her grip was like iron. This was not the first time this had happened.
Bulda looked up at her with her big black eyes, her gray face bordering on desperation. "To decline the invitations of handsome princes to stay over and build pillow forts, Kri-Kri! You should have said yes."
She could feel the tip of her ears get warm with embarrassment at the mention of Andy. Of course she'd wanted to say yes, but the pillow-fort thing was an activity meant for Andy and Elliott, and gods know they needed that brotherly experience. She didn't feel entirely comfortable joining in on that special time. She was still getting used to Andy, even Elliott. They hadn't known each other for very long, even if it felt like it. So excuse her for not attending the sleepover.
"I'll go next time, Ma," she said, partly because she hoped she would, partly to get Bulda out so she could get some much needed sleep. The past couple of days had been beyond anything she'd ever imagined, and since the Great Thaw as it was known around the village, she'd spent most of her time with Prince Andy, they went with Suri to test out the new sled driving like maniacs. But the Prince had to split his time between her and Elliott- from what Andy had told her, his brother was a little stressed by the consequences of the eternal winter. Damages had to be paid and relationships with other kingdoms had to be rekindled.
And thinking about that made Krista think of her. Helena of the Southern Isles. There had been no word from her relatives, as far as she knew. Elliott had sent a message, but gods know if it got through. The most damaged ship had belonged to the princess, so she was stranded here. No other kingdom exactly volunteered to take her back.
Andy had told her bits and pieces about what happened, but every time he got to the part of the study, he got really quiet and fidgety and she'd just drop it. No need to make him relieve it all again, whatever that wicked girl had done that definitely was not a true love's kiss.. Besides the Andy-Thing, she'd seen the princess with her own eyes- with sword in hand, ready to kill King Elliott. And then Andy had stepped in, and...
The pressure was released from her leg as Bulda let go, her face softening- if stone could soften, that is... "I just- I just don't want you to push him away. He cares for you, and you care for him, and-"
"I won't do that! Why would you say that?"
"You have a tendency to- ah, push people away. You don't let anyone get close." Bulda put in as delicately as she could. It didn't matter how she put it, really, Krista knew it was true. If you don't let anyone get close, then they can't hurt you. That's why her best friend was a reindeer.
Reindeers are better than people.
Krista smiled as she remembered the little motto she'd made up when Olga had rudely thrown her out of her shop. People will beat you and curse you and cheat you. She sat down and leaned on the sleeping Suri, this not being the first time her buddy was used as a pillow. "Don't worry, Ma. I like Andy, he's... um, I like him. I'm not pushing him away anytime soon." She smiled at the skeptical troll who was eyeing her with a funny look.
"Fine, fine. But remember- what do we say if handsome princes ask us over?"
Krista resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "We say yes with no hesitation whatsoever."
Bulda pinched her cheek with her thick fingers, "That's my girl!"
This time she did roll her eyes. but with a big smile on her face. She snuggled Suri's soft brown fur as Bulda blew out the candle and left Krista's little hut-home, right there in the Valley of the Living Rock.
She dreamed of celery green eyes.
● Elliott ●
Elliott waited until Andy's breathing steadied somehow. Half of him wanted to stay and be there if Andy had another nightmare, but half of him needed to leave. Gods knew he had demons of his own. He slipped out from the covers, not that he used many; the cold didn't bother him.
Andy, on the other hand, was under a heap of them. Even if his brother had insisted he wasn't cold, Elliott knew better. Being frozen alive and brought back ought to leave a little something behind. Would his little brother feel cold for the rest of his days? He hoped not, he really hoped not. Other people would have cringed if their bare feet touched the cold wood floor, but Elliott barely felt it. He tiptoed away, grabbing a bathrobe on his way out.
General Winter wasn't patrolling the hall anymore, which was good. Elliott didn't feel like explaining what he was doing, because even he was still questioning why he'd left the comfortable pillow fort he and his brother had made. Andy had come in with the idea at a perfect time, when Elliott was meant to be writing apology letters to ever single guest for the inconvenience that happened during his coronation. He didn't mind the interruption, in fact, it was great. Great that Andy wanted to spend time with him and didn't hate him for almost killing him-
Stop. He sighed, tried to remember the words Andy had said as they were placing blankets and pillows around, on one of those rare times they talked about everything that had happened. Not your fault.
If he said it enough, maybe he'd start to believe it. Sneaking out like this in the middle of the night reminded him of the last time he'd done it with Andy, thirteen years ago when the ballroom fiasco had gone down. He still hadn't talked to Andy about that... he wondered if Andy already knew, since he'd apparently been to see the trolls. Pabbie might have restored his memories then? Elliott didn't know, and he was too afraid to ask. All his brother had told him was that they'd gone to see the trolls because Krista sort of lived with them, and the leader troll had told him about the ice in his heart and not your fault, not your fault.
He sped up the pace when he passed the picture of his parents, the massive oil painting that hung from the wall and judged him as he went by. For now he couldn't stand it if they looked at him, he had mixed feelings about them and- and hating them was something he didn't want. So avoiding was the better option for now.
The place where he wanted- well, needed to be was at the other side of the castle. As far away from everything and everyone as possible. It had to be done now, before he lost his nerve. If he didn't do this, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, the issue would keep him awake all night.
Just like he'd ordered, there was a guard standing outside her door, someone was always there, day or night. The man was slumped a little against the wall, half asleep and probably bored out of his mind. Elliott cleared his throat softly, and the man jolted completely awake.
"Your Grace!" he said a little loudly. The sound echoed, and Elliott brought a finger up to his lips. Sh. "Your Grace?" the man said more quietly, seemingly embarrassed.
"I need to go in for a moment," Elliott said, nodding at the door behind him, an indirect step aside.
The man shifted his feet uncomfortably, his brows furrowing, "You said no one was allowed in after she-"
"I know, I know what I said," after she stabbed the messenger with a fork, but he was the king, obviously he was allowed in. "But this is really important."
The man hesitated for one more second before unlocking the door and stepping aside, he still looked wary. Elliott lay a hand on his shoulder, "Speak of this to no one, please," his voice was cold, measured, the way his father had taught him to make silent threats. He knew how quick word traveled in the palace, and this was the last thing he wanted to be noted. He was going to hire new staff, too, now that his secret was out. The man nodded his agreement, and he gulped audibly.
Inside it was warm, the coals of a fire that had been burning on the fireplace were still hot, still glowing a little. It would look like any other guest room in the palace if it wasn't for the barred windows, the doors that locked from the outside, the lack of any sharp objects- including mirrors. The only light came from that faded fire and the filtered moonlight from between the bars on the windows. He'd half expected to find the princess awake- but she was not a vampire, apparently. She was in the simple bed against the wall, tangled up in the sheets with auburn hair splayed out on the pillow.
He hesitated for the first time since coming all this way, not sure how to make his presence known. The last thing he wanted to do was touch her, and he didn't want to make too much noise and ugh. Maybe he should throw something.
For a split second the evil thought of throwing a snowball crossed his mind, but he shook it out. He was not that mean. He froze when the girl turned over, but luckily she was still fast asleep. For the past few days, whenever he thought of Helena the image that would pop up in his brain was her sneering face and eyes ablaze, looking almost primal. Not an innocent-looking girl with a dusting of freckles across her nose, with her mouth slightly open.
"Helena," he hissed, because out loud he couldn't exactly address her as Her. She frowned in her sleep, but did not move. Elliott approached the bed but still left a respectable distance between them. "Helena."
He could practically feel his courage faltering, his nerve leaving him. What was he doing here, this was a stupid mistake-
The Princess made a sound between a curse and a moan before she rolled over, turning her back on him. Elliott felt a spark of impatience. No, he'd come all this way, he would not be leaving without the answers that may or may not give him peace of mind. He needed to hear it from her, or else sleep would be inconceivable. An evil smirk pulled at his lips as he summoned the ice to his bare, gloveless hand. He remembered when he was fourteen and so terrified of his powers he'd slept with gloves on more than once. Not anymore.
The small of her back was exposed since she rolled over, the perfect target. "Helena," he gave her one last chance. The Princess was still unresponsive. Too bad, Elliott let the ice swirl away towards the exposed skin-
"GODS!" she yelped, and jumped a few inches off the mattress. That ought to wake you, Elliott thought smugly. That marked the second time that night he'd startled someone and they'd blurted out those words. She twisted her body around, glaring first at her back, and then up at-
Her eyes locked on his.
Surprise, confusion and a little anger clouded her eyes before they settled for what could only be described as cockiness. For the first time he noticed- one of her eyes was black. The bruise was ugly, mostly purple and green, a little yellow at the edges. He was about to ask when he remembered the why- the man she'd stabbed with a fork after delivering the news that her sisters would be coming had punched her as he'd tried to get away. His pity dissolved as fast as it had appeared.
A lazy smirk spread across her lips as she regarded him. "King Elliott," she drawled, and she sat cross-legged on the bed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
He considered messing with her, telling her that her sisters had arrived a little earlier- to see how she'd react this time. But he didn't. He also didn't want her getting the better of him, with this casual attitude around him, almost insolent. "I need to talk to you," he said evenly.
● Helena ●
"Come here to gloat?" she kept her smile in place, but inside she was seething. She was mad at them of course, but mostly, at herself. Oh, how everything had fallen apart so quickly. All it took was Andy not dying like he was supposed to, running out into the gods damned storm and jumping in front of her sword-
Thinking about it made her mad, it made her crazy mad. It made her blood boil. And as if that hadn't been absolutely terrible enough, her ship was one of the few too damaged to sail. She was stuck in this place full of people that hated her- not much different from home, but this was a different kind of hate. She'd actually kind of done something to deserve this. Gods know who would come to pick up poor little Helena with her tail between her legs. She hoped with every fiber of her being that it would not be Cristina or Rowena, they would have her put to death on the spot.
If Katherine came, that would be perfect. She would save her sorry ass, like she'd done many times in the past. She could always count on Katherine, the sister that taught her how to sword fight and that would most likely never turn her back on Helena. Even dumb Sonja would be a blessing, just as long as it was not her twin or Rowena she'd be fine. If Astrid herself came, though- she didn't know how to feel about the Queen of the Southern Isles.
The corner of the king's mouth twitched, but his expression remained neutral. "No, I didn't come here to gloat. I need to ask you something." Her skin still tingled from where his ice had hit her. It was magic ice, of course, so there was no trace of it, all that remained was the cold feeling and a few sparkle-like things on her back. She hated his power over ice very much.
Helena was a little afraid, but she refused to let it show. He'd seen enough of her weakness, when she'd stabbed that stupid man with the fork she ended up crying, both from frustration and fear and because he dared hit her but mostly because gods dammit her sisters were coming. But in front of him, she kept up her confident front, "In the middle of the night? Oh, Elliott, I didn't know you were this cheeky."
She got the reaction she wanted. Elliott scowled, and even in the dark she could see the color rise on his cheeks. The dork was wearing a bathrobe over- well, his bare chest, and pajama pants. Now she felt a little embarrassed as well, but kept the fake smile on. She didn't want to see him, let alone talk to him. But... truth be told, she'd rather talk to this one than to the brother- Gods, Andy. She didn't want to see Andy, not after the ship where his new blondie girlfriend had pushed her off. If they never talked again even better.
Elliott grabbed a chair and dragged it over so he was facing her, he obviously didn't want to sit on the bed which was fine by her. She didn't want him sitting there either. If he was sitting down, then his little talk was probably going to last a while. "What I want to ask is... about your sister, Queen Astrid."
Out of all the things she'd expected, that had not been one of them. She couldn't help it; her confident face fell right off, and was replaced with an expression that was probably pathetic. She crawled over to the wall and sat against it to face Elliott properly, at least look him in the eye. "Why?"
"Because I want to know how the Southern Isles system works," the king replied, he said the words but they didn't make sense in Helena's head. What did he care to know?
And she might as well let him know her thought process, "What do you care?"
Something dark flickered across Elliott's face. Oh, she probably made him mad. She hadn't considered what he felt about her, having, well... tried to kill him and his little brother. Take his kingdom. This man probably wanted to see her dead. If he really wanted, he could, honestly. A spike of ice through her heart and who would miss the 13th Princess of the Southern Isles? "I care because I don't want to see you dead, Helena. Treason and attempted homic- well, you know," when he spoke his voice was a little lower, almost strangled. She made him mad alright. "Those crimes are very serious. I want to know how... how your people handle such offenses."
Helena wanted to laugh or cry, she couldn't decide on which. Oh now he was trying to... what? Help her? Gods, this man was too much. But she lost nothing by telling him, telling him all about their stupid system. "There's a council," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, because she felt the rising hysteria in the pit of her gut and she wanted to keep it controlled. "The Council of Thirteen they call it."
She could practically see the wheels turning inside the king's head, connecting the dots. His eyes narrowed as he reached the obvious conclusion. "Thirteen sisters- thirteen seats? Your council is your family?"
"Surprise," she said grimly, managing a smile which probably looked more like a grimace. "We all vote, majority wins. Simple, democratic, not very efficient."
"Okay, let me get this straight... if seven of your sisters want you dead," she flinched. "Then...?" he dragged his index finger across his throat in a cutting gesture.
"Yes. But Astrid... she's got a little bit of priority, being the queen and the oldest and all... in most cases, it goes how she wishes, unless there's strong opposition."
Elliott rubbed at his jaw, where there was some new stubble from the past few days. Helena looked away, a creeping feeling of shame flooding her. Here he was, the guy she tried to murder and take everything from, genuinely asking her about things to see if they were in her best interest. She was such trash-
"Thirteen votes, is it-"
"Well. Sometimes it's less."
Elliott blinked at her, surprised that she'd offer up any information at all. She was already telling him, he might as well know bits of the whole thing. "Why is that?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"One... one of my sisters, Cecile, she's..." Helena looked for the right word, because crazy just didn't apply to Cecile anymore. Helena felt a little crazy herself since the Great Thaw or whatever these idiots were calling it. Most of her sisters, too, were pretty crazy. "She's sick," she finally said.
"Okay...?"
"Yeah, she's sick, she can't leave bed." She's said too much. He was learning too much about her family. Okay, that's it, no more offering up free information. She clamped her mouth shut after that.
"It's...no offense, it's a terrible system," Elliott seemed oblivious to her sudden silence. "No neutral parties, no mediators- you guys just do whatever the hell you want."
Helena loved talking shit about her country, she took great pride in doing so- but when other people did it, it made her mad. She could do that because she lived there. The anger in her gut twisted, "Oh yeah? How do you Arendellans do things?"
"I have advisors, I don't go around asking Andy to make laws." He got that dark look on his face again, the gentle reminder that he hated her. "If he had it his way, there would be a national Chocolate Day."
"Maybe Andy should run the government," she shot back haughtily. The words came out easily, but it made something inside her ache. Oh how she'd hurt that boy, gods dammit. Why was she such a shitty human being-
Elliott's laugh surprised her, and it surprised him too, he caught himself almost immediately. The awkward second their eyes met made her face burn. The king cleared his throat and kicked the chair away, the discomfort clear on his body language. "W-Well. That's all. I certainly hope you have a good relationship with your sisters, seeing as your fate rests on their hands," he shook his head, still very disappointed in the S.I justice system.
"I'm dead, then," she muttered to herself, tension she hadn't realized was there got released as she lay back down. Helena wished she could sleep the next thousand years, and never ever wake up, like that German fairytale her sister Sophia read to her when they were little. And she wouldn't wake up, because there was no prince charming about to kiss her anytime soon.
Elliott paused at the door, "Pardon me?"
"Nothing, my king! Thank you for gracing me with your presence. Have a wonderful, wonderful night!" she waved as exaggeratedly as she could, blinking her long lashes at him. That effect was probably ruined by her black eye, but for now the fake politeness with hidden venom was all a girl had.
"Goodnight yourself, sweet princess." Elliott rolled his eyes with what she thought was the hint of a smile, and left.
When she was completely alone, and only then, is when she allowed herself to cry.
+++really long, hopefully good chapter to start off this sequel and get to the speed of things. i loved writing this one, p fun stuff. i still need to figure out a few plot things, since i don't have the frozen script to guide me anymore, but it should be good.
++there was an interview w santino fontana (aka the voice of Hans) where he talked about a possible sequel to Frozen and Hans redemption and all the while i was rubbin my hands together like a fly kehehe because in another life, i wouldve probably shipped Helsa
+ please, if you liked this chapter leave a review, they do mean a lot and keep the story rolling, and as always thank you for reading!:)
