After breaking out of prison, Elliott ran as far and as fast as his legs could carry him over the frozen water— below him was the wreckage of ships that had been sunk by his furious storm. If he listened closely he could hear the wood groaning beneath him. One false step and he could fall through. But that wasn't very likely, his powers would save him— probably. Hopefully.

The wind was so powerful and the snow so heavy, he was almost blinded by it. He stumbled from left to right as his hair whipped around wildly, not frosted in place anymore. He had no idea where to go, or what to do. Just the sheer desire of getting away was enough to keep him going.

Struggling against my own blizzard, he thought sourly as he tried to cover his face with his arm, which sent a jolt of pain to his shoulder where that man had shot him.

The king entertained the idea of simply giving up, completely give up. He was not being brave, he was just running from his fears—just like he'd done his whole life. There was nothing brave or honorable in running.

He regarded peace longingly, the way a man in the desert regarded water.

What will become of me?

He continued running headfirst into the heart of the storm.

• • •

The whole castle seemed affected by the terrifying spikes, it seemed to Andy as they hurried down the hall, dodging the pointy ice shooting from all directions as they went. Weirdly, they didn't run into any other people. The thought that she did something to his staff made Andy grind his teeth together.

"It's bad, it's really bad!" the General kept saying, "Your brother's on the edge of a meltdown."

"Um, that kinda already happened. A few hours ago when he froze everything?" Andy panted beside him, keeping a good pace thanks to the crystal's power. Just a little longer, I need to find Krista.

The General was still armless and half his face was gone. After they'd spotted the mountain girl running back and the study room had collapsed, they had other things to worry about. But missing half his body was affecting his balance— he teetered dangerously close to a spike more than once.

The General chuckled without humor, "You thought that was bad? Just wait till fear completely and utterly consumes him, then it'll be the second ice age. We need to get to him."

"For starters we don't know where he is—"

"Look around you, boy!" the snowman snapped, "Your brother is here— or was so recently—, that much is certain."

Andy was about to protest, but suddenly he remembered what she said; "Did you know I went to look for you...I went to the ice palace with a small escort..."

"Helena," he barely managed to spit out the word, "She— she may be doing something to him!"

"To get him this upset?" the General sidestepped an oncoming spike that would have otherwise cut him in half, "Torture, you think?"

As if he didn't hate the woman enough, the mere thought that she— that she would— "I have an Ice King to kill... If you're not a popsicle by the time I'm back, perhaps I'll show you your brother's head."

Andy took a hard left from the previous hallway they'd been following, "Let's go to the dungeons."

"But Krista is—"

"Krista will find us," he lied, the only sound he could hear being his heart pounding frantically in his ears, "But if— if my brother's down there with her..."

The General glanced warily at the crystal around his neck, "M'boy, we don't know for how long that thing will—"

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I just— I want to make sure he's okay," Andy said in a small voice.

I guess I'll always love my cold brother, he thought as he twirled the cord of the crystal around his finger, with all my cold heart.

•••

The stairs that led down to the dungeon were slippery with ice, so Andy grabbed the wall— which was also slippery, but it was better than nothing. It also didn't help that the back of his hands hurt after beating at the Ice Princess' solid ice body, his knuckles were still bleeding a little, and the spreading of light frost over his hands didn't help either.

"It's way colder down here," Andy murmured, the path at the bottom of the stairs dark. All torches had been put out by the eerie breeze the Prince could feel down there. Someone may have left a window open, maybe? The guard's post was empty, the keys for the cells still there.

"Do you actually have prisoners here?" the General grabbed Andy's cloak with his good hand to steady himself. The prince hadn't noticed, but his clothes were icing over too.

"No, we either set them free or banished them before Elliott's c-coronation," Andy's breath fogged up in front of him as they walked along all the empty cells. Most doors were ajar, and the ones that weren't all Andy had to do was peek in to realize they were empty as well.

"Maybe he's not here."

"It feels like the source, don't you think?" they reached the end of the cells, and all of them were empty.

"Hmm... we still have to check one," Andy bit his lip, "The solitary confinement one. It's said to be the safest. No one's ever escaped it..."

"Alright, then. I assume it's that one?" the General pointed at the door that was made of steel... but it was also ajar like all the others. Perhaps even more.

Confused, and dreading what he could find, Andy approached the door. He kicked it with his boot so it swung open.

He cringed when the whole thing simply fell off with a loud CRASH.

"I barely touched it—!" but his words died in his throat when he saw the inside of the room.

It was like something had blown up inside the room— and unfortunately, Andy was pretty sure who. The cell was had been splattered with a very powerful icy blast, leaving it all with frost— hell, the wall leading outside had been blown completely off, that's how the cold wind was getting in.

Andy was no great detective, but he analyzed the scene quickly— the many boot prints on the fresh powder indicated that guards had been here—

And then his heart sank at the most significant clue.

Chains— ugly iron things that looked like a bear trap, designed to contain and completely cover both hands lay broken on the floor, completely iced over.

Andy stared down at them with his jaw clenched so tightly he was afraid it would fall off just like the door had.

"D'you think Helena had these made?"

"In such short notice?" the General had a sad, disappointed look in his eyes. "No, I don't think it was her."

The snowman didn't have to say it. Nobody had to. Andy knew.

He already had mixed feelings about his parents with the whole let's erase half of your life and the fact that your brother actually cared for you to protect you—thing, but this just added to his already brewing anger. They did it to keep him safe, yes, he knew that— but it still didn't make it fair, or okay...

And these... things, they had designed them for their son? Their firstborn? Did they really just expect Elliott to go berserk eventually and lock him up?

"This is disgusting," Andy said in a measured voice, wondering what he would have done had he not been half dying and with company.

The General sighed and his snowy shoulders slumped, "At least we know where he went..." he pointed outside, "Your brother got away."

"Good— well, good that he got away from that bitch—"

"He's probably at the eye of the storm."

Andy nodded, "I'll get to him before Helena can—"

"No. We're getting you to Krista first, get that act of true love going."

"I'm not—"

"It's not a request, Anders. You're dying," the General grabbed the Prince's hand and forced the palm up so Andy could get a look at it. His fingers were mostly blue and numb, small snowflake—like frost decorated his skin.

He placed a frozen finger over the crystal, and a little relief and warmth seeped through his fingers— but not enough. Nowhere near enough.

"But Elliott—"

"Your brother's strong, m'boy. Stronger than you and I think— stronger than he knows," the General pressed his lips into a thin line, "He'll make it till you're well and saved. That Helena can't possibly hope to beat him."

Andy stared out at the storm outside, "And what if he doesn't... doesn't make it?" What if she can beat him.

"You are just a ray of sunshine right now, aren't you?" the snowman scowled and poked Andy hard on his side, "Things could always be worse. But there's a girl out there— a girl running down a fjord in a frenzy to reach you, bearing the act of true love you need to thaw that frozen heart. Have faith, boy."

Faith, have faith...

But his faith was running out.

• • •

The only other time Krista had seen Suri run as fast and sure-footedly as she was right then across the frozen water of the fjord was years ago, the day of the avalanche, the day Krista's parents—

Don't think about it.

As if sensing Krista's thoughts, Suri brayed reassuringly and chugged forward, into the heart of the storm where a heavy foggy—mist hung. Or what Krista assumed was the heart. All she cared about was reaching Andy, wherever he may be.

"C'mon girl," Krista whispered between Suri's ears, "Faster."

They outran the fog—or mist, whatever that was— but the snow kept falling, thicker than up the mountain. Krista suspected King Elliott must be around here, but she could not imagine why or how, he'd seemed very set on staying on his mountain.

Her beautiful reindeer sprinted between two massive ships that had been locked in place, their hulls thick with ice and the rest very weather—damaged. The surface was uneven and cracked, and Suri did her best to not let any of that slow them down.

One of the ships started to capsize over them with a horrible creak of wood, threatening to crush them. Suri thundered on even as debris from the ship rained down on them and they made it just before the thing tipped over and broke the thick ice they were running on.

For a split second, Krista felt great. They'd avoided the worst.

But suddenly a loud crunch made her look back. Where the ship had fell the 'ground' was opening up, a jagged zigzag line made its way toward them like a snake, and it cracked the ice covering the water. Suri jumped one of the new gaps just fine. The next one, though, was too wide.

Krista could practically feel Suri hesitate before the reindeer bucked her off, and sent her tumbling hard across the icy water. She jammed her left hip and arm into the ground with a painful grunt, but she was across... and alone.

"Suri? Suri!" she crawled to the edge of the now opened—up ice. Small chunks of ice floated around the dark water, but there were no signs of any living thing.

No, no, gods, no. Not Suri. Not Suri.

And suddenly Krista was four years old, alone and terrified, losing her family all over again. She was four and looking out the cabin's window, watching both her parents race against the incoming avalanche behind them and—

Don't think about it—

—the roar of the snow sliding down the mountain at a ridiculous speed—

Don't think—

—And Suri had reacted, got the crying child on her back and ran out of the doomed cabin at devil speed—

Don't—

— Krista making the mistake looking over her shoulder at what used to be the cabin, what used to be her parents, and it's gaining on them, they'll be caught too—

But then they fell down that hole, the hole that saved their lives, and only the gods know how they didn't suffocate or get crushed by an incoming tree from the avalanche.

Later, with a shock blanket around her shoulders and an ice harvester's wife trying to soothe the inconsolable child, she told little Krista that the hole had probably been a ranger's place to actually survive avalanches, and that she and Suri had somehow created an air pocket while down there and that's how they survived.

Krista had not thought about that day in a very, very long time, but that didn't matter, because every detail, every sound and every image were fresh in her mind as if they'd happened yesterday and not fourteen years ago.

Please, please...

Suri's head breaking through the surface restarted Krista's stopped heart in an instant.

"Suri!" Krista beamed as the reindeer swam doggy—style towards a larger chunk of floating ice. Not on Krista's side of the ice, but safe and alive, and that was a good enough.

Suri barked as she shook her shaggy fur coat— making tiny droplets of water land everywhere. What are you doing? Go find him!

"Good girl." Krista smiled and ran.

• • •

The second they reached the shore of the fjord, the General started having an alarming amount of trouble walking through the brisk wind that howled around them. His little snowman feet unwillingly left the ground more than once, but still he continued on.

It wasn't easy for Andy, either. He was going at tortoise—pace, taking tiny steps since that's all his frozen feet could manage. The strong wind pushed him around once or twice, like getting shoved by an invisible bully, but he managed to stay on his course— wherever that might be.

The wind kicked up so fiercely that it was hard not to hunch down and cling to piece of ship, he prayed he would not be blown off his feet. He was heavy enough so that nothing happened.

General Winter, however, was not so lucky.

The wind lifted the general up and pulled him apart into three— head, torso, legs. Andy had seen the General without head before, but it was still unnerving.

"Keep going, boy," the General's breezy voice said as he was whisked away, "I won't be far."

Andy didn't want to be alone, but he didn't get a say on the matter because the General was already gone.

Icicles bearded the stony banks, and the prince could still hear the sound of rushing water beneath the thin hard crust. All around him was basically a graveyard of ships locked in place by Elliott's storm.

Step, step, step...

The ice—cold hand that had been gripping his heart for quite some time seemed to just be toying with him by now— it's like it dug in its nails and once Andy felt pain it'd release it, but keeping a firm hold on it, always keeping the icy fingers there. A not-so-gentle reminder that he was dying.

"Krista!" Andy called out the wind, hoping with all his frozen heart the wind would somehow carry that one last message to anyone who cared to hear it. "Krista!"

And suddenly Andy realized— he knew who the cold hand holding his heart belonged to.

It belonged to death.

• • •

Krista was beyond lost in the white—out. Every direction seemed to be the right one, every direction seemed to be the wrong one.

There was just no way of telling.

Gods please, give me a sign. Which way? Which way?

The heavy snow slapped at her with frozen fists, the shock of the cold seemed to stop Krista's breath a couple of times as she stumbled around blindly. If Suri was here, maybe she'd feel a little more confident, but then again her reindeer had just plunged into probably the coldest water ever, so it was better if she stayed put.

The gods saw fit to answer her prayers.

"Krista!"

"A—Andy... Andy!" the voice had been a whisper, carried out by the wind, but she'd heard it, she'd heard it— and she was coming.

• • •

Left — no, that's towards the castle — forward? No, that leads to the sea...

It was like trying to find his way in the dark, but instead of black, it was all white, white, white.

The size of the hail was ridiculous— almost as big as Elliot's head. It buffeted him, but since it was magic it quickly dissolved and didn't hurt as much— and the cold had never bothered him, still... not having a clear vision of where he was running was frustrating.

He'd decide where to go— he was going to leave.

Like he'd told the Southern Isles Princess back at the cell— he was a danger to Arendelle. And he'd taken an oath to protect it, and by now the how was obvious: as long as he could not control the curse, he should not be allowed to stay.

Briefly, he wondered if that's what Queen Adela would have done. Then again, what did he care about her train of thought? She went mad and killed everyone, and lived in a town full of Meltlings... but... in the end she found redemption.

Redemption...

He didn't look where he was going and almost crashed into the mast of a ship sticking out of the frozen water. He was standing over a ship. His fault it had sunk, all his fault...

Is it a Spanish ship? A Corona ship? A French— he shook his head. Did it matter? It was not going to be sailing again anytime soon. By the time someone found it, Elliott would be long gone—

"King Elliott!"

The voice was familiar, but so scattered by the wind he could barely make out the words. Maybe he was going crazy. The king narrowed his eyes at the blurry shadow approaching him. He blinked away the little flakes in his eyes and realized who it was: Helena.

Her hair was not in a neat ponytail anymore. It flew around wildly with the wind, loose auburn flying like flag. She struggled with the blizzard until she was standing a few feet in front of him.

"You can't run from this, Elliott!" the girl yelled as she attempted to shield her eyes from the buffeting hail, "Stop running!"

Running is all I want to do. But there was one thing still tying him to this land he'd brought so much pain on.

Andy.

"Just— just take care of my brother." With Elliott out of the picture, Andy would have no one to stop him from marrying his—how had he put it? — his true love. They could get married, and live in the palace just like they wanted with all twelve sisters, all without Elliott there to ruin everything—

"Your brother?" Helena's eyes were glassy. "He returned from the mountain weak and cold! He said that you froze his heart."

"What?" Elliott's knees twitched under his suddenly immense weight. How could that be? He'd sent Andy away, away before— before any damage—

Andy on his knees, clutching his chest with pain in his eyes. The mountain girl ran towards him—

"No," the King hoped, wished, prayed— that it wasn't true, that he hadn't...

"I tried to save him, but it was too late," Helena's words sent a roar through his head, "His skin was ice, and his hair— his hair had turned white!"

The words of an old troll from long ago whispered inside his head, "Good thing it was not the heart. That is tricky to change." What did tricky mean?

Elliot clenched his hands so tightly he was sure his nails drew blood. All your fault, all your fault.

He stared at her long and hard, like children did when something happened that they did not understand, could not understand.

So the Princess put it bluntly, her words were like a high speeding train slamming against Elliott's chest;

"Your brother is dead!

because of you."

oh man, i'm mean...

+++this story's coming to an end, and by how things are going- i'm probably finishing it!

++ a little late, but some Krista back-story at long last!

+ so overall i got a positive response on a sequel, or prequel or whatever. tho idk if i could pull it off, my english is not all that great- but we'll see!:)

thank you for reading!