Note: I'm so sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Hope you'll forgive me; and a massive thanks to all of you! You really don't know what all the support means to me. On a side-note, when I'm talking about the temperature in this chapter, I'm reasoning in degrees celsius! There, I hope you enjoy it, and promise to be faster for the next chapter! (That's what they all say, right?) And please, please give me feedback on it; I love to know what you guys think! And of course, constructive critisicm is always welcome. Love you all!

Chapter 18: Golden Cages and Graveyards

Rapunzel had bathed, dressed in a silk green dress that matched her eyes, paced her room, looked everywhere for a book (there wasn't one), observed the view the window offered her, watched the seconds tick by agonizingly slowly on the clock, and had even started sketching a flower on one of the parchments. She was too bored to even be afraid. Nothing had happened since Eleanor's brother had come to see her, early this morning.

She was going mad, locked up in her golden cage.

It wasn't until the middle of the afternoon that finally, the lock of the door turned.

She looked around quickly, grabbing the quill that she still intended to use as a weapon if need be, though she doubted its efficacy.

In the entryway was the red-head she'd seen only yesterday night, on her arrival to this sordid place, before everything had gone black.

"Hello," he said simply, as if they were old acquaintances, and were about to enjoy a good chat about what was new. She gaped at him.

"Hello?" she choked disbelievingly. The Prince looked at her from the doorway, and she saw his gaze drop to the quill she was still gripping tightly in her hand.

"I was busy this morning," he said as if she'd asked, "Or I would have come sooner."

"Come soo- come for what?" she asked a little aggressively, perhaps a shade more than what was wise; this was her jailer, she thought. She mustn't let her guard down. Mustn't let go of the quill, though what good that would do-

If only she had a frying pan.

Well, if he was planning on dragging her to dark dungeons to torture her, she wouldn't go down without a fight. And she sure as hell wouldn't betray any secrets.

The redhead seemed to be following her train of thought.

"You have nothing to fear from me," he said quietly, still standing quietly in the doorway. "I don't intend on doing you any harm."

"Your friend might," she pointed out, and she shivered; the dark, cruel eyes of Pitch still haunted her. To her surprise, he laughed dryly. The sound was hollow, without any real amusement.

"He's not my friend," he stated matter-of-factly.

She didn't answer, was barely listening to him; she shifted slowly, trying to see what was beyond him. She saw the glimpse of a long corridor, that seemed to be engulfed in light, shining so brightly it hurt her eyes.

"Will you join me?"

She snapped back to attention.

"Join you?" she repeated blankly.

"Yes. I'm going to give you a tour of the palace," he explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"A tour?" she said again, not believing her ears.

"Yes," he said, before adding; "A tour is when you show a person around-"

"I know what a tour is," she snapped. First a bastard, now a tour. Did these people think she was an idiot?

"Well…" he continued, and Rapunzel was stunned to see that he looked rather sheepish, "Will you?"

A tour. With the enemy.

A tour. Within her prison.

A tour, that would show her every crack, every weakness, every chance of escape…

"Of course," she said in an airy voice she didn't recognize. "I would be delighted."

…

"I'm sure she's being tortured," said Eugene, as he paced back and forth. "I'm sure they're butchering her-"

"Jesus Christ, Eugene-"

"They'll be ripping her from limb to limb-"

"SHUT UP!" roared Anna, and everyone jumped. She was red with anger, as she glared furiously at Eugene. "Stop saying those horrible things, or so help me God, you'll be the one being ripped from limb to limb you son of a-"

"That's ENOUGH," interrupted Elsa. "Fighting amongst ourselves will do nothing to help Rapunzel."

"Sitting here will do nothing either!" snapped Eugene.

"Actually, if we sat and freaking planned something, it would!" retorted Anna. They stood, at either end of the Council table, glaring at each other. Jack was watching, none of his usual amusement around him.

"How can you be so calm?" asked Eugene, and his voice cracked. "How can you even think of planning? Just take an army and go-"

"We would be destroyed," said Elsa, "And you will be no help to Rapunzel dead-"

"IT IS MY DUTY TO GO, SHE IS MY WIFE-"

"AND SHE IS OUR COUSIN!" Elsa screamed at him. "DON'T YOU THINK WE UNDERSTAND?" She took a shaky breath, and Jack had to consciously refrain from going to her. "Don't you think, if there was one chance, as small as it was, that we could win, with our small army in enemy territory- don't you think I would give the order to go? Don't you think I'd kill, without remorse, every man who stood in my way?"

Eugene stared at her for another second, and Jack thought that he was going to scream back; but Elsa's icy promise was hanging in the air, her face as cold as stone. Slowly, Eugene sat back down, and Jack saw that he was trembling. From anger at Elsa and Anna, or fear for Rapunzel, he didn't know; but seeing him in this state tore at his heart.

Elsa seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as she strode to him quickly, and swung her arms around his neck. Jack saw Eugene's startled look, before he wrapped his arms around her back.

"Rapunzel is my blood," Elsa said passionately, fire shining in her eyes as she pulled back from him to look him in the eyes, her hair floating around her face like a halo, "And I will never, ever, abandon blood."

Eugene nodded slowly, before sitting back down, and Jack saw that his eyes were red, and a tear rolled down, sliding down his cheek. He didn't attempt to brush it away, his eyes empty of anything as his gaze concentrated on his tightly-clasped hands.

Anna sat back down too. Eleanor was staring at Eugene, as she tightly held Gregory's hand. Jack was leaning against the wall, holding loosely his staff as he watched them. He'd woken up to an empty bed; Elsa hadn't woken him up, but he'd found her quickly. She'd been here, with the Council members; she hadn't put on any makeup, her hair was messy, falling around her face like a halo…

And she was wearing pants.

Pants.

He'd never seen her in pants. They were white, and clung to her legs and hips; revealing so much more of the outline of her graceful body that any dress he'd seen her wear. Long, black boots were at her feet, and a white vest hid what looked like a blue shirt, that matched perfectly with her eyes.

She looked fiercely beautiful, and he couldn't help but curse himself for stopping what they'd started last night.

But all thought of that wonderful reprieve from all that was going on had disappeared when his eyes had fallen on the rest of the people that were in the Council Room. Anna, looking like she'd barely slept; Kristoff wasn't there, an absence felt by everybody; Eleanor and Gregory, looking tired and worried, all trace of yesterday's new-found happiness gone; and finally Eugene, who looked like the whole world had collapsed around him.

Which was, in a way, the case.

"Look," said Anna, "If we send a raven to Corona- warn the King and Queen, they would send help-"

"I've sent my fastest rider," Elsa interceded. "Sending a raven would be too risky. They can be intercepted, stopped, read-"

"But riders are slower," croaked Eugene, and he didn't look quite as destroyed anymore. "He won't ride fast across a sea."

"At least we're sure that the message will be received," Elsa said quietly, and Jack saw in the way she said it how painful it must have been to make the choice, between speed and safety. He couldn't help but want to snap at Eugene before he would make Elsa feel even more guilty about her choice.

"It was the right choice," said Anna, and Jack sent her a grateful look.

Bless her, he thought. Elsa straightened, as if her sister's approval had made her more determined.

At that precise moment, the doors swung open, and a guard entered, dragging behind him a brown-haired girl, writhing violently to escape his grip.

"I've found her, your Grace," said the guard.

"Unhand her immediately," Elsa ordered, and the guard let her go, so suddenly that Isabel fell backwards on the floor. She immediately sprang to her feet again, sending a dark look to the guard, who didn't look like he was sorry at all.

"Leave," Elsa said dryly, and the guard did so, shutting the double-doors behind him. She turned back to Isabel, still dressed in a dirty, bloody servants' uniforms. Jack immediately deduced that she'd been in the ballroom when the attack had started; she'd even probably, seeing her exhausted air, helped tend to the wounded after the battle.

"Are you alright?" asked Elsa kindly, and Isabel's wide, brown eyes fixed on the Queen's blue ones. She didn't respond, but her answer was clear.

"I'm sorry," breathed Elsa, "That was a stupid question."

"Yes, it was," Isabel answered, surprising everyone. Isabel had always been kind, willing to do the Queen's bidding, to help her; now, they stood before a dark shadow of the girl they'd sat across at the Queen's Arms. Jack saw that the others were looking nervously at the Queen and the servant. But Elsa didn't shout. She didn't even blink. Instead, she smiled, a little sadly.

"Do you blame me for what happened?" she whispered, so that they barely heard her.

"No," said Isabel, answering too quickly for it to be sincere.

"It's okay," said Elsa, her voice back to normal volume. "I do too."

Jack's feet picked up from the ground and he flew across the room so quickly that Eugene jumped. He landed next to Elsa, barely a foot away; but didn't touch her. Just standing quietly. And he knew she knew that if she wanted, if she needed- she could take his hand, lean against him- one word, and they'd be flying halfway across Europe the next second-

"How you must hate me," she continued, under Isabel's stunned gaze, "Responsible for Katie's death. And now… Now, responsible for this."

Isabel shook her head, all trace of disrespect and contempt gone from her features.

"I don't hate you," she said softly, and for a moment they all felt like they were intruding on something, "You're my Queen. I trust you. I don't hate you. I don't hate you."

Elsa's eyes shone with tears as she stepped towards Isabel, lifting her arms towards her. They both grabbed the other's hands, their fingers intertwining.

"It was Mary," said Isabel quickly, as if she was scared of changing her mind, "She- she disappeared in black sand- she didn't even say goodbye-"

"I know," whispered Elsa, just loud enough for them to hear. "I know."

"I didn't know," continued Isabel, tears now spilling down her cheeks. "I tried to stop her, when I saw her open that door- the army-"

"It's okay. I should have known what Mary would do."

"Don't think too harshly of her. She loved Katie- truly loved her. She thought it was your fault that she died. She hates royals, but hates especially you since Katie's death. Since you came to her funeral."

Jack thought back to Mary's unwillingness at the Queen's Arms, how every word she said seemed to pain her… They'd been stupid to ignore the signs.

"Well, at least now we know how they got smuggled in," stated Anna without emotion. She seemed different; as if a light had gone out inside her. She was pale, her face drawn. She looked sickly, as if something was paining her.

"Are you alright?" he frowned, concerned. Immediately, Elsa whipper her head around, her eyes narrowing on her sister. Anna looked at Jack, her lips pursed.

"Answer him, Anna," Elsa said. Gregory, Eleanor, and Isabel looked around, confused.

"I'm fine," Anna answered, though she looked the opposite of fine. Colour was quickly draining out of her face, and Jack saw her sway on the spot. Instantly, he lurched forwards, dropping his staff, catching her. He saw Anna look down at her dress, and he followed her gaze, just as Elsa gasped in horror.

Blood was gushing down her legs.

"The baby-" gasped Anna.

"But that's not possible- it's too early!" Elsa shouted, as she ran towards her sister, wrapping her arm around one side of her, as Jack held the other. He was looking at Anna's face when her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she fainted.

…

"She'll be alright," said the physician to Elsa, as Jack stood next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her hands were clasped together.

"And the baby?" she asked, barely breathing. If Anna had a miscarriage… Elsa knew it would destroy her.

"It is too early to say, your Grace," sighed the doctor, as he glanced back at Anna's sleeping form. "I think the stress of the battle took its toll on the princess's pregnancy."

Of course, she cursed to herself, how could she not have thought of asking Anna to be examined- maybe they could have stopped it-

"She hasn't lost the baby, your Grace," said the physician softly, apparently reading her distress. "And she won't, if we're very careful from now on. She must stay in bed at all times, or at worst in a rolling chair. What she eats must be clearly supervised. It is vital that she be completely relaxed, without cause to be anxious at any times."

Elsa nodded, grateful for Jack's arm's pressure around her. She thought she might have fainted too, if not for his support. She looked down at her hands, noticing that they were trembling.

"Of course," she murmured. "Anything else?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Not for now," he said, "And though I know your Grace may want to stay with your sister-"

"She needs quiet and rest," finished Elsa. "I understand."

They were accompanied to the door by the doctor, who closed the door behind them. The corridor was dark, lighted by candles; dark clouds twirled outside the windows, and you could hear the howling of the wind from inside.

She looked down at her hands. They were drenched with Anna's blood.

Her breathing became rapid, as her hands started trembling.

"She'll be alright," Jack whispered, his lips grazing her ear. Those words were her undoing, and she sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands, smearing blood all over her cheeks as she gasped out sobs. She felt Jack's arms pull her to him.

"How can I win this?" she asked in between sobs. "How can I do it? Rapunzel's gone, Kristoff's hurt, Anna and the baby are in mortal danger… I can't do it alone."

"You're not alone," he whispered, "You've got me. You'll always have me."

The words only made her sob harder, and Jack was kissing her, ignoring the tears as he cupped her face in his hands. "Anna will be alright," he repeated, his mouth forming the words against hers.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, "I must look hideous right now."

"Snowflake, we both know I have enough good looks for the both of us," he grinned, and she laughed. He helped her up, and she hugged him. She didn't remember how her life had been without him in it, but she had no wish to return to it.

"I have to go somewhere," she said suddenly, wiping her face with her sleeve, smearing her white vest.

"Okay," he said, "Where are we going?"

She smiled. We. She liked that word.

"Riding."

…

Jack flew above her, as she raced across the countryside. She'd gone to the stables, and asked for her horse. The stable-boy had brought her a magnificent black mare, with a white spot on her head. The mare had gotten all excited when she'd seen Elsa; Elsa had laughed and gone to her.

"I'm sorry, Aztec," she'd laughed. "I haven't gone out riding in a while," she explained to Jack.

A few seconds later, Elsa had pulled herself to the saddle, swinging a leg over the horse's side, so that she had one on either side.

They'd left the castle, Jack still not knowing where they were going, and Elsa had gained speed as they'd left the city. She was going as fast as him, the hooves of Aztec slamming against the path's earth, Elsa's long, platinum blonde hair flying behind her.

"We could have flown, you know!" he shouted at her above the whistling of the wind. He was flying next to her, in a horizontal position, a hand in his front pocket.

"I was scared we'd miss something!" she shouted back. He frowned in confusion, before Aztec jumped over a particularly large rock. He put on a burst of speed to catch up with them. She was bent down, holding onto Aztec's black mane, but she turned her face to look at him, her stunning blue eyes meeting his, her cheeks flushed with the wind.

"Such a show-off!" she grinned, and he winked. "You do know Aztec could beat you without even trying?"

"Yeah, right," he said, rolling his eyes mockingly. Elsa's eyebrows raised, a challenging expression on her face. She lifted her ankles before clapping them back down at the mare's side. Instantly, the horse sped up, going way faster than he'd estimated.

But he wasn't the Spirit of Winter for nothing.

The wind, already powerful around them, seemed to pick up, pushing him forwards. He was catching up, at their level, passing them; but when he turned back to gloat, Elsa wasn't there. She was at his level, and she passed him, taunting him with a single look. He laughed, exhilarated, the wind ruffling his hair and causing his sweat-shirt to ripple around him. Tightening his hold on his staff, he sped up, catching up with her; they were both going so fast that the landscape was nothing but a blur around them. Raindrops started falling around them, drenching them in seconds; strands of hair were now sticking to Elsa's face.

Jack saw a forest, coming closer and closer to them. Aztec galloped inside, and the trees covered them, the path now muddy and wet. Elsa had pulled on the reins, and the mare slowed down.

"Probably isn't wise to go that fast in the rain," she said.

"Or you're a sore loser," said Jack, grinning mischievously. She slid down from the horse, splattering him with mud as she hit the ground. The way she looked at him informed him that it was completely intentional.

"I was winning that race, Snow Spirit," she retorted, as he spat out mud.

"Sure about that?" he said, and kicked his bare foot in mud, a clump of it splattering it on her face. With one hand, she wiped away mud covering her eyes as he was bent in two with laughter at her expression. She lifted her eyebrows, a silent challenge, as she bent down and picked up mud in her bare hand, before throwing it towards him. The mud slammed into his face, so hard that he reeled back. He burst out laughing, wiping the mud off his face before launching towards her, slamming her down into the ground (though he protected her head), and rolled into the mud, ignoring her shrieks of protest. Aztec huffed at them disapprovingly.

"So, who's the winner now?" he taunted, as they both laid on the ground, him above her, his staff forgotten beside them; Elsa was shaking with laughter, and he grinned.

"Get off me!" she said, trying to push him off her, but she was laughing too hard to pose a real threat. Of course, she could have blasted him back with ice, he thought, but she didn't seem to want to.

"No," he grinned. She looked up at him, her laughter fading gradually. Raindrops were pounding around them, but neither could feel the cold. He felt his pulse quicken, as he looked down at her, feeling every one of her curves against his body. She didn't blink, didn't drop her gaze, but he saw her raise her hands, and wrap them around his neck, pulling him to her.

And then they were kissing, covered in mud and completely drenched, his wet hair falling over his eyes, but he didn't care because she was there, and the feel of her would consume him, as he threw himself into the kiss. He couldn't think of anything else, couldn't imagine ever being with someone else in that moment. It seemed like his whole life had led him to this precise moment; kissing the girl born of ice and snow in the mud and rain, not giving a shit about anything else. He felt her cold hands slide under his sweatshirt and onto his bare skin, and he kissed her harder, as if they would die tomorrow and this would be the last time they would ever kiss-

"Stop," he murmured, and her hands instantly stilled.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, and he barely heard her over the pounding of the rain. She looked at him curiously, and she was so beautiful, muddy and soaked-

"If we don't stop now," he breathed, his gaze concentrating on her lips, swollen by his kisses, "I don't think I'll be able to stop later."

"So what?" she said, smiling, and brought her lips back to his. He allowed himself to respond for a second more, before wrenching away from her.

"So, Elsa, I don't intend on making love to you covered in mud and watched by a horse."

"She's a mare," she contradicted him, though blood had rushed to her cheeks. He laughed, and pecked her lips, before rolling off her. He extended a hand to help her up, which she took, and hoisted her up.

"Sorry, Snowflake. Maybe next time you'll manage to seduce me."

He ducked as another ball of mud swept dangerously close to his ear, and he laughed at her outraged expression, before pulling her to him by the waist, and kissing her again. Though he let go of her fairly quickly.

"So, was that your goal; take me into isolated woods to take advantage of me?"

"I don't know, did it work?" she said mischievously, her arms still wrapped around his neck.

"Nearly," he laughed, flicking her nose. "But seriously though?"

She sobered up.

"I want to check that the villages around Arendelle are intact. If the Southerns came- I just hope they didn't kill anyone. But if they didn't- I mean, news that a huge army of Southerns was marching towards the royal castle would have reached me, right?"

"Right. Well, better get back on your horse then," he said, and he helped her up, as she hoisted herself up onto Aztec. They took off again, Jack following the mare, feeling as if his whole body was still tingling with desire.

…

The sun was beginning to set over the lush, green gardens of the Summer Palace. Rapunzel looked out her open window, letting a soft breeze play over her face and hair, trying to soak in the last rays of sunlight. It was the beginning of January, and it was at least thirty degrees out. She turned around, back to her empty room. She was locked inside once again, and she had next to no progress since that morning. Hans (as he'd informed her it was his name, and she'd tried and hopefully succeeded to hide what the name meant to her, her thoughts flitting back to her cousin) had shown her parts of the palace; they'd walked in the gardens, and Rapunzel had been able to see that they were surrounded by a tall stone wall, that looked impenetrable, from the outside or inside. The only exit was the tall gate, closed by an equally imposing spiked gate; Hans had even shown her how nobody could exit or enter the palace without intense supervision by the guards.

She'd quickly realized the tour wasn't a tour at all, but rather a demonstration of force, to show her that her future attempts to escape would be futile and ridiculous.

But still, Hans had been surprisingly polite. He'd seemed nearly sorry at times, and she'd noticed how he carefully avoided her gaze. And despite all that her cousins had told her… she could see it. She could see something inside him, that could be reached. Maybe all was not lost for him.

It had been with relief that she'd realized that Pitch wasn't here. She just hoped he wasn't in Arendelle, causing more chaos.

And, though she was no closer to escaping than this morning, there was a definite improvement; Hans had provided her, after a heated argument about if Romeo and Juliet would have kept on loving each other if the Montagues and the Capulets had forgiven each other, and the lure of forbidden love had faded, with piles of Shakespeare's works. There was Hamlet and Macbeth, A Midsummer's Night Dream, and her personal favourite- Antony and Cleopatra.

She looked at the last rays of sunlight as they disappeared over the horizon, before slipping out of her dress. She always slept naked when it was hot, but she felt bare and unprotected with Eugene not with her. She smiled at the memory of his stunned expression when she'd first told him that she slept naked in summer.

Though he hadn't waited too long before joining in the tradition.

The smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared, Eugene's absence weighing on her like a dark cloud following her every step. She slipped inside a blue nightgown, and slipped under the thin white sheet of her bed, grabbing Antony and Cleopatra, her short brown locks falling around her face. Though her eyes skimmed over the letters, the words didn't wash over her as they usually did. Her thoughts kept going back to Eugene, the pain of his absence in her chest.

She looked down at the page.

Suddenly, as if she'd known she would do it all along, she sprang up from the bed, and ran to the desk, slamming Antony and Cleopatra onto her desk. She grabbed her quill, and agitated herself over the parchment. She then rushed to the window, and whistled; it was a long, sorrowed sound that echoed across miles and miles. She waited, watching the horizon.

All of a sudden, her whistle seemed to be repeated a thousand times over, the woods that she could see beyond the palace walls becoming alive with the bird call.

She waited, breathless, watching the dark night sky. The stars were out, now, and the moon seemed to glow over the landscape.

Less than ten minutes ago, she saw a brilliantly white bird swoop down from the heavens, coming right at her. The owl perched itself on her shoulder, and clipped her ear with his beak gently. She laughed breathily in relief.

She looked behind her nervously, as if Pitch or Hans or guards would come running inside her chambers.

"Here," she said softly to the owl, extending the manuscript towards him, and he took it in his beak. "Take it to Eugene, Ghost."

The owl's eyes seemed to glow with intelligence and understanding, before it stretched its wings and took off from her shoulder. She watched it go until he disappeared out of sight, before reluctantly closing the window again, and turning back to her bed.

Oh well, she thought, Macbeth was good too.

…

Aztec slowed down, as Elsa slid down the horse's side without waiting for the horse to come to a complete halt. She ran towards the ruins of the village, Jack close behind her. She came to a halt, and she felt as if there was no more air around her, as if she couldn't breathe, because how could she carry on breathing when so many-

Cottages were completely destroyed, their walls black with soot, the roofs caved in. Some were still on fire. Children, elders, adults, all alike all laid dead on the floor.

"My God," she heard Jack say in a low voice, as horrified as she was. She bent down on her knees, picking up something from the ground before standing up again. She brushed soot off the doll. Not far, she saw what looked like a soccer ball, next to a girl's corpse. She looked six years old at most.

Katie's death had terrified her. She still dreamed of the small, blond girl, that died in her arms.

The ballroom massacre had racked her with guilt and horror.

But all of those deaths, all that she had seen… it was war. It was horrifying, it was terrible, it would leave its mark on her forever more, as it should. People, innocent people, had died, their lives cut short because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, because they had heard things they shouldn't have… but it had not been for something. It could not have been avoided.

But as she stared around, her eyes completely dry, at the village that was now a graveyard, she thought to herself; this wasn't war. These people were killed for sport.

That girl was burned for amusement.

All those lives taken away for nothing.

She'd been terrified at Katie's death. She'd been horrified at yesterday's battle.

But this…

She only felt icy, cold, raging fury. A hatred she hadn't even known could exist erupted inside her.

She turned back to Jack, who was watching her carefully. And she felt like in that instant, something had broken inside her. An invisible line had been crossed.

And the golden queen, covered in mud and drenched, lifted her chin.

"I'll kill them all."