-I'm sorry for the hiatus first and foremost! it's my senior year and things are insane, and grades and schoolwork count more than ever and it's important i focus on that to get into a good college and

ANYWAY

before you proceed! I recommend you re-read the last chapter real quick to see where we left off!

i mean, you don't have to, but i strongly recommend that you do, it's for your own benefit really. so things aren't as confusing and you don't get lost and. ah this is too long already.

enjoy!


HELENA

Elliott took the news about as well as Helena had expected.

A blast of sleet shot out of his balled up fists, missing her head by about an inch. The wallpaper behind her took the worst of the blast, to her dismay.

"And you mean to tell me you didn't know?" Elliott's eyes were furious. "You had no idea Astrid was hiding an army behind my fjord?"

Maddy, being the big old coward that she was, had fled the scene almost immediately after telling Helena about Cristina's ships. How did the fool just 'forget,' to share that key detail? Had she told them sooner, Andy and co. could have taken a different route to the Southern Isles—but no. They were en route to meet with her sadistic sister. There would be a confrontation with Cristina, there was no doubt about it. Chances were she would catch them, bring them back, and Astrid would quite literally kill them all. Helena wanted nothing more than the sweet release of death at that moment.

She tried to match the king's fierce expression with her own, "I honest-to-gods didn't know, Elliott! I've been here the whole time, or did you forget? Do you think I would've agreed to your stupid plan if I'd known? Do you think I wouldn't have told you?"

"Maddy agreed to the stupid plan and she knew about your sister! She knew your armada was right at our backs!" Another blast escaped his hands—he was loosing control. And this time it wasn't only sleet—it was more solid, sharper kind of ice. She felt like they were back at the north mountain. He was snapping. "And she told us nothing until it was too late!"

"It's not too late. We… we can send a bird, some way to warn them—"

"No! They left hours ago! If I were a betting man, I'd say Cristina's chopping off their fingers as we speak—" he cut off his own sentence by yelling a loud curse word, then repeated it several times, in quick succession. Helena was stunned to say the least. It's like the composed, rational man she knew had been replaced by its polar opposite in a matter of seconds.

She felt her irritation flare up, "Yes, by all means, Elliott, keep yelling! It's not like it will attract attention—"

The king howled again like he was in pain, "He's my little brother, he's all I have left!"

Helena blinked. All this time, she'd assumed he was upset over their marriage probably still happening. She felt ashamed that Andy's well-being hadn't really crossed her mind until then. She really was an awful person.

"Elliott," she lowered her voice, not in a condescending way, but what she hoped was a calming one. "That's not Cristina's style. Take it from me. At worst, she'll intimidate them half to death—" she cringed. Poor choice of words. "—um, what I mean is… they're not in any mortal danger. Worst-case scenario, she brings them back here and tells to Astrid about what we were up to."

Elliott's breathing slowed, but he still seemed on edge. "And what if she tortures them for information?"

Helena walked around the room to stall her answer. That was a possibility, one she was loathe to consider. She sat down on a plush chair across from Elliott and continued to speak calmly, hoping her soft tone would put him at ease. "I'm going to be honest, here. If she does torture them—I don't think it'll be anything extreme. Water torture, maybe… the sensation of drowning with a wet rag? It's not the worst. No permanent damage."

Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to say either. The man looked stricken, "That is way too similar to how our parents died—that kind of stress would ruin my brother!"

The princess breathed sharply through her nose. "Fine. I don't know what else to tell you, since you've convinced yourself to oppose anything I say."

Elliott swallowed hard, like he had something stuck in his throat. He sat down on the floor, like a dejected little kid, his shoulders slumped. "I don't… I don't mean to. My brain just—it assumes the worst. I'm afraid."

She was surprised he would admit to it, like actually say it. Not many men, even in situations like this, would do that. She tried for a sympathetic face. "Look. Andy and Krista aren't totally dimwitted. They, uh… they can be resourceful. Cristina's all brawn, no brain. The Admiral doesn't have Astrid's analytic capability, or Johanna's wits… I'm sure they won't be captured."

Elliott looked back at her, doubt clouding his face. Had that light line of freckled across his nose always been there? "You mean that? And be frank with me. I… I can take it."

Every pore on his face indicated that no, he couldn't take it if she said anything other than a hopeful thing. Maybe humoring wasn't what he wanted, but for some reason she did it anyway. "If I were a betting… lass, I'd say they make it to the Islands in one piece."

The king nodded, convincing himself. "Yes… yes, you're right. Besides… Cristina has no reason to stop a small fishing boat, right? It's got no reason to be suspicious."

She replied with an absent-minded mhm, just to offer some comfort, but her internal gears were turning, flipping through other possibilities that she didn't dare share with the shaken king.

Cristina had no reason to want to stop a common fishing boat—unless something about it caught her attention. Unless Andy and co. did something stupid. Unless… unless someone had told her to look out for anything at all.

Again, she thought about Maddy. She was the most likely to betray them, honestly. But if the second princess had tipped Cristina, then why had she also warned Helena? It didn't add up. It also rose the question—did Astrid know? Was she just feigning obliviousness to see how far they'd get away with this scheme? Was she letting them do this just for her satisfaction to be even greater when she caught them? Helena lost sleep at night over those kind of questions, truth be told.

Astrid would do that. She would so, so do that. Hold the apple above the starving man's mouth, let him almost taste it, only to pull it away right out of reach. It fed her ego like nothing else did. The cat-and-mouse game was one of her favorites—and unfortunately, one she most certainly excelled at.

Helena almost jumped out of her skin when the door swung open. A few icicles shot out of Elliott's startled hands and stuck to the doorframe with a loud thunk.

It was Maddy. Her lips were set in a thin line.

"Astrid is requesting an audience with the happy couple."


ANDY

"Look, look—they're closing ranks. They're not gonna let us pass."

"Yep, definitely a trap."

"Maybe we can—"

"We can't."

"But if we—"

"The dang boat doesn't have wings, Andy!"

Andy sucked in his bottom lip, resentful. Meanwhile, Brandon was practically ripping out chunks of his own hair.

The ships were acting like some sort of border patrol… or a pack of wolves hunting. Organized, hungry, and deadly. Now, Andy was no expert, but he could tell from the way they were arranged —some were positioned in a block manner, to stop them. Others were a little further away, ready to give chase if they tried to run. Brandon said they were going too fast to turn back now. The only path for them was forward

Krista, on the completely other hand, was calm, so much that it was unnerving. Her brown eyes were fixed on their imminent doom, meeting it head-on. Andy was another story. He wanted to transform into an ostrich and bury his head underground—which he couldn't, because they were out in the open sea. Which was unfortunate, because he really, really hated their current situation with every fiber of his being.

Naturally, Andy was the first one to loose his chill. "What in the blazes are we going to do?!"

Krista shrugged. "They have no reason to stop us. I don't understand why you two are freaking out."

"Um, do you not see their intentions? They're not going to let us pass! Maybe they aren't Astrid's… maybe they're pirates. Gone rouge, you know?" Andy thought about it. The mean blonde at the front definitely looked like a Westergard. Had one of the thirteen princess' rebelled?

Brandon scoffed. "They're Astrid's alright. Pirate's don't just hang out right behind a powerful kingdom's fjord. It's a trap!"

The two boys' exasperation seemed to irritate Krista, who was still trying hard not to panic along with them. She leveled Andy with a look, "Okay, let's say they stop us. So what? We're not carrying anything important. Our most valuable possession is a bag of air! I'm some random girl and so is Brandon—and as far as the people on that ship know, so are you, Andy. You don't exactly look prince-ly right now."

Andy glanced down at his traveling clothes. Yeah, actually, they did look really plain. Nothing even remotely hinted at the fact that he was actually a prince. "Hmm. Well, you're not wrong." Andy said.

"Oh!"

A small salt-and-pepper bird flew over their heads and swiftly landed on Brandon's shoulder, digging its talons into his soft cotton shirt.

"What the—"

It was a regal-looking creature, with a sharp beak and beady eyes.

"Messenger bird," Andy said quickly, pointing at the tiny scroll tied to the bird's leg. Its body was sleek, probably bred to deliver urgent messages.

Andy was grateful when it didn't try to peck at his hand when he gently untied the scroll form its leg.

"Do they expect us to write back? —" before Krista could even finish, the bird took off, answering that, no, they didn't expect a reply.

Everyone crowded around Andy's back, trying to read over his shoulder. It read:

DROP ANY WEAPONS OVERBOARD NOW, AND NO FUNNY BUSINESS! YOU'RE BEING STOPPED FOR QUESTIONING. – ADMIRAL CRISTINA W.

"This is fantastic," Andy balled up the note and crushed it in his fist. "Real great!" He stuffed the paper inside his pocket and looked back at his crew. "What now?"

Krista grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Anders! Will you please relax? You're starting to make me miss General Winter's paranoia, because yours is ten time worse! If you keep this up during the questioning, Cristina will know something's up."

Andy tried his absolute best not to whine, and yet he did. "It's not fair."

Krista released him as Brandon smiled in understanding. "Lie your guts out, my man. Here's the story, and learn it by heart: I'm Krista's brother, and you're my brother-in-law. We're just ordinary people leaving because—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Andy said. "So… in this scenario, Krista and I are married?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Andy saw the tip of Krista's ears get red with self-conscious shyness, but he smiled broadly, "I like it."

"I knew ya would," Brandon smiled back, to Krista's mortification. "Anyway, we're leaving Arendelle because we've finally managed to escape from your darling brother's eternal winter, not that he's actually your brother in this story, he's just some king… anyway…and we barely managed to get this dingy ship. We're headed to—"

The boat shook as a heavy weight landed on it, making the already hazardous-looking planks groan under the new body. The trio swiveled around just in time to see Helena's brutish-looking sister land on their boat with a what he was positive was a feline-like smile on her face. Two other thugs landed beside her, having swung down from their much larger, much more intimidating-looking ship. Doom Desire, was pained on the side. Krista tried to not make a face. Tacky.

"Well, well, what have we here?" She said, alarmingly sounding a lot like Astrid's fake-sweet voice. "I hope I'm not interrupting your little chat!"

"Cristina, we—"

Before Brandon could even breathe again, one of her gorilla-like men karate-chopped him on the neck, making the poor guy drop to his knees with a cry of pain. "You will refer to the lady as Admiral Westergard, little runt."

Andy's features transformed into a scowl before he could even arrange them into literally anything else. "That was uncalled for, you ridiculous man-bear—"

Well, so much for hiding his feelings and following the fake story. His dislike for Cristina was immediate, probably stemming from the sole fact that she was related to Helena. The only thing he needed was a sign on his head saying "I'm the prince of Arendelle, I'm about to ruin your queen's life, arrest me!"

"He doesn't mean it," Krista cut in sharply as the brute stepped forward again, probably meaning to karate-chop Andy's self as well. "Please, Admiral Westergard, forgive my foolish husband."

Cristina raised a finely sculpted eyebrow, "Husband, eh?"

The Southern princess made a small gesture, and her minion stepped back in line. If she didn't resemble a shark so much, she'd actually be pretty, Andy thought. Too bad her every move could easily be interpreted as hostile. Everything about her screamed dominance, from her confident stance to the tight lines on her forehead. Strangely enough, she seemed to catch an interest in Krista's soft-spoken voice and submissiveness. Props to her, for acting so well.

Andy would've liked nothing more than to push them all overboard.


KRISTA

Krista wanted to help Brandon to his feet right after beating the smirk out of Cristina Westergard's face, but sadly she could do neither.

She knew the type of person they were dealing with. She'd encountered a handful of ice harvesters with that god complex that this woman obviously carried as well, only that those men's worked on the treacherous ice, not the sea. Still, Krista had a pretty good idea of how to handle the situation and efficiently defuse it—if only Andy would cooperate!

Her hot-headed prince had immediately lashed out when Cristina's man hit Brandon, which was the right thing to do, just not what needed to be done at that moment. Andy had done nothing more than add timber to the already burning-inferno of tension that they were in. As much as it absolutely pained her, she had to let Cristina believe that she was in absolute control of the situation and that they were only peaceful peasant at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was infuriating, but Krista managed to control herself better than Andy.

She adverted her eyes from the princess'—er, Admiral's—blue stare. Which was good, another show of submission. "May I ask why we're being stopped for questioning, Admiral?"

Krista could practically feel Andy's furious thoughts fluttering around them like butterflies, and she ignored them as best as she could. She felt the prince tense up next to her as he said, "If you'd be so kind as to tell us."

It sounded forced, and openly spiteful, but Krista sort of appreciated his effort at politeness. Brandon slowly stood up again, rubbing his neck where an angry red mark was forming. The look on his face was full of resentment.

Cristina ignored them both, "Search this shoebox." She ordered.

"Aye, aye, Admiral Westergard, ma'am," both buffoons mumbled.

Up close and personal, Krista could actually see a mix of every Southern Isles princess she'd met on Cristina's appearance. Her eyes were obviously Astrid's, the slope of her nose just like Helena's, the arch of her eyebrows was unmistakably Sophia's—it was kind of disturbing, actually. They all carried around pieces of each other on their features and their mannerisms.

Cristina then casually prowled around the tiny front of their boat, scuffing her weather-worn boots against the floor. "Tell me, what are your names?"

"Agdar and Idun Winter," Andy said immediately. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Admiral Westergard, ma'am."

Krista almost let the 'awwh,' sound escape her lips, but luckily she held it back. Those were the names of Andy's late parents, the king and queen of Arendelle before the sea incident. 'Winters' was obviously a reference to their one and only talking snowman friend. Andy had said it without hesitation, and so naturally, that Cristina seemed to believe it… for now.

"I'm Brandon. I'm her brother," his voice sounded a little hoarse, but no major damage seemed to have been done. His lie was a little weaker than Andy's, but it was enough to not raise any questions.

"And tell me, friends. Why are you all leaving the lovely Arendelle in such a hurry?" Cristina continued in her cool, casual tone. It wasn't an outright interrogation, but it still felt like every question was meant to rat them out.

The two goons came out of the little room, shaking their heads. Cristina acknowledged them with the slightest nod of her head and gestured at their little trio to answer.

Krista almost let her neutral expression slip from her face. They hadn't planned that far ahead. In a surprising turn of events, Andy took the question in stride, still trying his hardest to be polite. "We're headed for the Southern Isles, Admiral."

The iceharvester wanted to stop on Andy's foot with all of her might for so-royally screwing this up, but she couldn't. What's wrong with him? Why isn't he lying?, she thought. Brandon, too, seemed stunned at Andy's honesty. He could have said anywhere else but the real thing! Why, Andy?

Cristina's eyes narrowed into slits, "Are you lying to me?"

"No, ma'am," Andy said.

"So then are you aware that we're flying Southern Islands flags? That I'm the admiral on their navy?"

Andy shrugged innocently, a child-like look of awe on his face. Okay, he was definitely stepping his acting game up. "We've never been. We're all from Arendelle, see, born and raised. We figured we'd try our luck on the isles, with the upcoming wedding and all! Prosperity is sure to come to the islands with the union. My wife and I—we wanted to go, y'know, just to say we've been—and Brandon's family, so he came along… ma'am."

"Here," Andy said after a tense moment of silence. He pulled out a paper from his pocket, "It's the map of the route we're taking to the Isles, if you want to take a look—"

Cristina waved her hand in dismissal, her jaw tight. "I don't believe you're going to the Isles to simply say 'been there, done that.' Tell me the truth!" She yelled the last part, finally betraying her cool exterior to show that of a petulant child demanding something.

Andy let a confused look settle on his face, like he truly did not understand. "B-but we are, Madame Admiral, sir! As you can see we didn't bring any possessions, or nothin'. We're just trying our luck in your country, honest to gods!"

The two men stood behind Cristina, their lips pulled back in a snarl. Cristina herself looked both confused and upset. "You're a redhead. You fit the profile I was given… this in unacceptable!"

The blonde was sure the Admiral had not meant to say that out loud, but she was what Krista had pinned her up to be: all talk and shows of force, but no actual wit to properly use it. She didn't have a filter to stop her words and consider the consequences of what she was blatantly saying— she didn't have the mind of manipulation her other sisters had.

"You're lying to me. You're going to Corona."

Krista felt her heart stop.

Someone warned her about Prince Anders leaving Arendelle. And that same someone asked to stop him.

Astrid.

Krista quickly caught the bluff—Cristina wasn't certain. And, thank the gods above, Andy noticed it too. He continued with his charade. "Huh? Corona? Why on earth would we go there? We don't even know how to get there. My map—"

Cristina ignored him, like the three of them weren't there anymore. She turned her back and spoke loudly to her two henchmen, "Astrid wanted her godsdamned leverage with the king by capturing the brother, and yet, no big Arendelle ship has passed by! Do you think that Elliott king lied to her? About sending the brother away?"

"I dunno, Admiral, but we've stopped every big traveling ship. We only stopped this one 'cause of the redhead at the front, but this is a married man…"

While they were distracted, Brandon and Krista turned to Andy and gave him huge smiles. They'd done it! Cristina believed them. And most surprisingly of all, it was Andy who had managed to control every one of his emotions to deliver a perfect performance of deceit. Krista was about to whisper something to him when suddenly Cristina's little meeting abruptly came to a stop.

"This is frustrating! We're leaving." She said loudly.

The Admiral grabbed on to one of the ropes she'd used to swing to their boat in the first place, ready to swing back. She looked expectantly at her goons, one of those terrible eyebrows raised, "What are you waiting for?"

"Ma'am?"

"Dispose of them. We don't need poor scum migrating to the Isles."

"W-wait!" Brandon cried, "What?"

"You heard me," her eyes were even colder than Astrid's. "You are not welcome to my home."

Before anyone else could react, Andy ran inside the little cabin, fast as a bunny. "What the hell? Catch him!" Cristina's fury was clear on her face, like how dare he not die like I want him to?

Krista wanted to scream as the two savages dashed after her very brave but very stupid boyfriend… boyfriend? Friend? Andy. Her Andy.

She tried to steel her nerves. Andy wouldn't just do that for no reason. There had to be something, a weapon? Brandon tapped her so lightly on the arm she almost didn't notice. She turned to look at him, her eyebrows arched in worry, and he simply winked and made a show of grabbing on to the railing real tight, muscles in his hand obvious and forceful. She didn't know what he was getting at, but she mimicked his action, gripping the railing of their boat as for dear life.

Then, while they still were not the center of attention, Brandon slyly tied a thick rope around both their ankles. He worked quickly and efficiently, as well as silently. She followed the line of the rope to its source: the heavy anchor of their boat. Her hands tightened around the rail.

She almost let go when the minions dragged Andy out, kicking and protesting, from the cabin. He managed to kick one of them on the shin, which earned him a punch to the jaw. The punch, however, didn't make him let go of the stuffed bag between his hands.

"What's that?" Cristina said.

Krista wanted to scream again—but with joy. Elliott's North Wind!

She gripped the railing extra tight and prayed to any god that would listen. Discreetly, she saw how Andy grounded his feet, preparing for what was to come.

"It's just a bag," one of the men said, "It weighs nothing. Probably empty." Then he drew his sword and both of them let go of Andy's arms, "I'll make it quick, Admiral."

Cristina suddenly got a wild look in her eyes. "Probably empty? You idiots, why didn't you open—"

"Open it?" Andy's grin was as feral as Cristina's had been at the beginning, and he unleashed the North Wind form its simple cage.


Krista had slid down mountain slopes, many times, in many terrains, with varying levels of speed.

Those were a gently breeze compared to the brutality of the North Wind's force.

Grabbing on to the railing had been a blessing in disguise—otherwise she may have ended up like Goon 1# and Goon2#, who took the worst of the blast. She tried to block out the memory of their skin getting peeled back from the wind's scream, their eye sockets popping out and their hair getting ripped quite literally from their greasy scalps.

At one point, the wind was so strong and they were going so ridiculously fast that her feet left the ground—only years of ice harvesting that gave her strong arms saved her from not releasing the railing. That, and the anchor tied to her ankle helped.

No wonder Pabbie had been so adamant about not aiming that thing directly at people. Sadly, by stroke of luck, Cristina had let go of the rope and plummeted to the water, thus avoiding to become a pancake against the hull of her own ship that had been beside theirs.

Speaking of her ship, on the brief look Krista got before they sped off at maniac speed, the insane bag of wind had actually managed to punch a hole on that very polished wood! That's how strong it was. Two deaths and the Admiral's ship from the Southern Isles armada practically sunk. It would be impossible to give chase in that state, and Krista doubted Cristina would recover anytime soon. They were safe.

What felt like five minutes of wind-voyaging passed until it started to slow down, and then, they came to a complete stop.

Andy's eyes were screwed shut tight—all of them had been, there wasn't anything to see but the blur of the gray ocean as they passed. He'd closed the bag. It looked significantly less fat, but it still had some juice in it—enough for the trip back, smart thinking.

Krista pried her hands away from the railing—the shape of them was probably permanently imprinted on the wood, as well as her nails'. She could already feel the rope burn on her ankle from the anchor's knot—she'd never welcomed a pain more gladly. The mark had played a big role in ensuring her safety, so she was completely fine with it.

The magic form the North Wind had probably protected Andy, because he'd been like a statue—the wind didn't blow him back.

A giddy laugh escaped her throat when she saw her two companion's faces. Both of them had the world's worst case of windblown hair—she probably didn't look much better. They were in silence, their crappy but resilient boat bobbing against the water, maintaining the sense of easy calm that came over them after the day's rush of adrenaline. Finally, Andy smiled softly. "We made it to the viper's nest, folks."

They were still a few minute's away form the actual rocky shore, but Krista saw it: The first isle, one of seven, very unlike Arendelle but it was there.

Krista shivered, "Yeah, we did. Godsdamn we're alive."

"Man," Brandon said. "I never gave you a map for the Isles or anything. What were you going to show that crazy woman?"

Andy's smile was beyond pleased with himself as he pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper, "It's her own threatening message that she sent us with that bird. If only she'd looked closer—"

"Oh my gods," Krista knew he didn't deserve it after saving their asses, but she still gave him a light smack on the shoulder, "That was insanely risky, you slug!"

The prince laughed, delighted with their faces of disbelief. "Slug?"

She kissed him on the cheek, "I'm just glad it worked out."

Andy's eyes were impossible greener than the ocean below them, "Me too. You know, you were pretty amazing yourself—"

"Ah, yes, yes, we were all amazing, but I still took a chop to the neck," Brandon said, gesturing at the bruise on his neck. He grinned at them, "No worries though, I'm a big boy. Anway! I don't mean to be rude, but we're on a mission, people. Let's get to it!"

"Right," Krista said. "What's the first stop?"

Andy pointed with his thumb at the island before them, "Well, Maddy said…We gotta find, uh… princess numero tres. Cecile. She'll help us."

The exhausted trio sighed at the same time as they admired the impressive view.

A castle made of elegant black rock loomed before them.


ELLIOTT

The alarms didn't stop ringing in Elliott's head until Astrid made it abundantly clear that she hadn't called them to accuse them of plotting against her—which surprisingly didn't do all that much to put his mind at ease.

All his thoughts revolved around Andy. Facing Cristina Westergard, and from Helena's vivid descriptions, she was one of the worst. Elliott had known it was still a huge risk sending his brother to the home of the thirteen women, but he was somehow more okay with that idea than the possibility of facing one of them out in the sea. At least, according to Helena and Maddy, there were friendly faces on the island. At least a batch of these princesses had to be good.

Astrid, unsurprisingly, wanted to talk about the wedding. They were outdoors, at least. It was kind of cloudy, so the sun wasn't unbearable and an easy breeze eliminated any unpleasant heatwave that could happen. Elliott's mind was kind of imploding, but at least hid body managed to relax, which was good—he didn't want to loose control of his magic again.

"…and I think the dessert table over there. Hm. What do you think, Helen?" Astrid mused, almost to herself. A scrawny man she brought with her followed after, making hasty scribbles on a sheet of paper at the queen's every whim and indication. Maddy pretty much served the same purpose, only that she seemed to be making mental notes.

"It's Helena," the princess corrected, irritation gnawing at the corner of her fake smile. Elliott almost smirked at the expression. "It sounds completely different when you omit the 'a'."

Astrid nodded absentmindedly, like a mother does when her child is babbling about unimportant things. Actually… wasn't Astrid kind of Helena's mother figure? He knew the Southern Isles King went to an early grave, and he wasn't actually sure Helena met her father. Did she even get to meet her own mother? He felt a pang of something, maybe sympathy.

"You know I'm joking, of course I know your name," Astrid murmured. She raised her sky-blue eyes to glare at her sister, "Did you think otherwise?"

Helena didn't look back, instead her eyes were intently fixed on a freshly-cut hedge shaped like an animal. After the 'eternal winter' most summer plants had died under the sheet of ice, so these were brand new. Gifts, as Astrid called them, from the Southern Isles. "I'm aware of your jokes."

"Get me a harp player at four," Astrid told the note-taking man. "And the entertainers at quarter past eleven."

"Glad you're asking for my input," Helena grumbled, still refusing to look at either of her sisters. Elliott shifted to stand closer to her, pretending he didn't see the tightness in her jaw and the glassiness of her eyes. He couldn't exactly relate to the feeling of older siblings making decisions and pushing you around, but he could clearly see how much it hurt her even if she did try to hide it with dry sarcasm.

Astrid rolled her eyes and shared one of those secret sister-y looks with Maddy. "Sometimes I forget she's only eighteen. Still a child."

Helena scoffed, finally forcing her gaze away from the plant, "I'm not a child."

"Then why are you being so difficult?" Astrid said. "Perhaps we should also hire a babysitter while we're at it. Babysitter at nine o'clock." The man jotted down something on his paper. "Don't write that down, you numbnut!" she snapped.

He crossed it out vigorously, mumbling apologies. Astrid folded her hands in front of her, once again, red dress. "I'm trying to help you, Helena. Don't you forget it."

Before Helena could reply, a very harried-looking Kai fast-walked towards them, bowing his head as he did, "Your majesties."

"Kai," Elliott nodded, glad for the interruption.

"Um," the butler looked uncomfortable as he looked between Elliott and the southern Queen. "Um."

"What is it?"

"There's… um. There's a woman at the gates. We don't know what… we weren't expecting… Ah." Elliott shoulders tensed. Kai was always so formal, rarely at a loss for words. This must be important. "She's saying she's—"

The sloshy sound of footsteps made them all look up at an angry figure making her way towards them. She was wrapped in a blanket, her stringy blonde hair still wet from… from what? It hadn't rained, and yet it looked like the woman had taken a bath without taking her clothes off.

"We insisted she get dry first," Kai said hurriedly, "But she's so stubborn! And not to mention rude! King Elliott—"

Two guards were running after her, but Elliott raised a hand for them to stop. The woman seemed unhinged more than threatening, and if she tried anything, he could easily overpower her. Besides, the hateful look was directed exclusively at Astrid—this he had to see.

"Shut up! Shut up!" she barked, her blue eyes furious as they landed on Astrid's passive form. "You. This is all your fault!"

"Admiral Cristina," Astrid's tone didn't betray any of her emotions—her face was a mask of calm. "I beg you to calm down, sister. Control yourself."

Elliott's face muscles twitched for a second as he tried to hide his shock. Cristina was here and empty-handed. Thank the gods. Somehow, miraculously, Andy hadn't run into her.

"Do not tell me to calm down after the bullshit I just went through!" she screamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Elliott saw Helena moving, discreetly moving to stand behind him. Cristina continued on with her tirade. "The Doom's Desire just sank, Astrid! It fucking sank!"

For the first time Astrid's face showed concern, and then mild annoyance. "How?"

"Some peasant had a hurricane in a bag, I shit you not. It killed Bron and Mason! It was some sort of sorcery! And they're headed to the isles, which are undefended because all my armada is—"

"That's enough," Astrid tone was so sharp that it stopped Cristina mid-rant. It felt like the queen's eyes alone could sink a thousand ships. She spoke to Elliott, "Forgive her, King Elliott. My idiot sister is obviously suffering heatstroke. Or maybe the Doom Desire shipwrecked here on her way to the wedding, hm?"

They hadn't said anything, but it was like Astrid and Cristina had a psychic conversation. Although the Admiral still looked furious, her mouth was set in a firm, silent line. She'd said too much. But Elliott leapt to the chance.

"Why's your kingdom undefended, Queen Astrid? Where are your ships?" He said.

For a second, Elliott thought she would push on with the lie that he already knew. But he saw slight change in her face. This woman's brain seemed to work and calculate the most favorable outcome almost immediately. She knew she was caught. "It's undefended because they're all stationed outside your fjord," she said boldly. "I do not trust you as far as I can throw you. It's a safety net."

"You did not ask for permission on this safety net," Elliott said coldly, and just for dramatic effect, he let the floor of the courtyard ice over with the thinnest sheet of ice possible, spreading form his feet and to every corner. Just to show that, hey, he was the one in control here. "It makes me question your promises."

"Oh. My promises are very real, as are my threats," she had a tight smile on her thin lips. "I admit it. I have forces behind your fjord in case things go badly—which, for both our sakes', let's hope they don't. And before this idiot blurts it out anyway-" she directed a brief glare at the fuming Cristina, "I asked my admiral to capture your brother if possible, for leverage in case you got difficult. Alas, it's obvious she failed."

Elliott said nothing, both mad and amazed that she was just so blatant about everything. This woman was more dangerous than he'd thought—and he's pinned her as plenty dangerous already. Denying her schemes would've been understandable—but openly admitting to them? The woman feared nothing.

"Since I'm coming clean, and being open about this nasty business, I'll just assume the same from you," she continued, "You don't happen to know anything about this peasant with hurricanes in bags, would you?"

Elliott released the breath he'd been holding into an incredulous laugh, "Perhaps your admiral really is suffering from heatstroke."

Inside, he was singing, over and over The North Wind worked, it saved them, my magic saved them from Cristina, oh gods!

The corner of Astrid's mouth twitched involuntarily, probably trying to hide her annoyance. She did not believe him. "Perhaps."

A tense silence stretched until Maddy clapped her hands together, "Well, since Cristina's here early, let's get you into some warm clothes, yes?"

"Yes, that would be good," Astrid said. She smiled coldly at her three sisters, holding each of their gazes for longer than necessary, keeping Helena's the longest. "Let's have a little chat and catch up, shall we?"

After they left, Kai audibly gulped beside him. "I'm terrified of that woman, your majesty."

"Me too, Kai. Me too."

Please, Andy. Don't fail.


guess who didn't spellcheck again? this gal! :^). sorry. i just. i wanted to get the chapter up as soon as possible, so plsss excuse any mistakes. and i do plan to finish this story even if it's the death of me, i need to give this closure and very soon!

i hope you liked it, and feedback is honestly what keeps this fic going, so if you wanna say anything, please do, it really does help.

++A small fullmetal alchemist reference thrown in there, bc why not :^)

+There's an 'official' Disney book called 'A Frozen Heart,' told from Hans' point of view, so that's what I'll be kinda using to describe the Southern Isles. So it's not all made up by me, it has some elements of what some people can consider 'canon'

aaaaas always, thank you for reading!