Elliott had had panic attacks more times than he'd like to admit— but what happened to him next did not compare to those episodes.
It took him a couple of seconds to process her words, yes— he stared at the Princess' face disbelievingly, because it could not be true, the very thing he'd worked so excruciatingly hard to avoid for years and yet— and yet—
"No," his voice was low, rough. He knew his face had twisted into an ugly grimace.
Elliott recognized the awful heavy feeling in his gut, the one that clenched his throat shut and made him helpless. He'd felt it, three years ago, when the messenger came...
Ship... sea...
terrible storm...no survivors...
But the magnitude now was ten times worse. Andy was the last he had.
Even when he'd wanted to cry his head off he'd kept it together; up in that mountain, inside the cell, even during the coronation party— when Andy...
ʻI can't live like this anymoreʼ
ʻThen leaveʼ
I didn't mean it, Elliott thought frantically .
I didn't want him to leave me.
Helena was yelling something over the wind, but her voice was muffled, like he'd submerged his head underwater. The details on her face became difficult to see, the world smeared together into dull colors.
But it could very well be true— true that his curse, this cross he'd had to carry his whole life, had finally done it— it had finally taken the most important person from his life. And knowing this, it hurt him more than a crossbow bolt to the shoulder— a thousand bolts to his body would have hurt less than this.
He was of age, twenty one years on his back, ruler of a great important kingdom, the blood of House Stormur, a man grown— and still Elliott's knees gave away like snapped twigs and he uttered a low, sad moan. The King of Arendelle fell, unable to support his own grief.
The moment his knees hit the frozen ground was like some god above had pressed the stop button on the storm. It rolled away and settled down, like a great winter beast finally tamed, the sound it made low and final.
But... not completely gone. From what his fevered brain could sort of make out of his surroundings, the falling snow was frozen mid—air, trapped.
It was exactly the scene that had played out in his room when his parents had died. Snowflakes in the air, suspended in time by immense sorrow.
• • •
Well, at least the blizzard stopped, Helena tried to see the positive side of the King utterly and completely loosing it.
She'd never seen a face screwed up with so much shock as she'd seen Elliott's. Helena wondered what grief tasted like— but there probably wasn't someone important enough to her to ever feel that kind of loss. When her own Mother had died Helena had not shed a single tear, and she barely remembered her Father so. All twelve of her sisters still lived, unfortunately, and she doubted she'd really mourn for any of them.
Still, he'd collapsed, the reaction she wanted but not the one she needed. There was no way he was going to move from there, which was a problem— she couldn't bring him back for trial if he did not walk. And right then she wondered if the King would ever walk again— it was like he'd got crushed by a ton of bricks, or like the weight of the sky itself had been completely dropped on his shoulders and made him crumble under it all.
If feeling sad froze the storm, maybe... maybe eliminating him was the answer to stop the eternal winter and save Arendelle from destruction. Andy was dead, and she'd told those fools they had married before he passed.
She could not prove it true, with no witnesses, but they could not prove her false either. And, really, would they put up a fight? After she became the heroine that saved them? With both heirs dead and with her allegedly being the wife— would that work?
One way to find out, then.
Plan B. Become judge, jury and executioner.
She pulled out Mirror II, her trusty sword, from the scabbard with one easy pull.
She winced at the very loud sound the steel being drawn made— shiiiiing, a screeching noise that sent a chill down her back.
Her eyes darted to the King's back, suddenly afraid he'd turn around and impale her with ice like he'd almost done Fritz back in the mountain— but Elliott's shoulders only shook, undisturbed.
Good. And with a wicked smile, Helena took a step forward.
• • •
One second, Andy had been mostly blind and moving a couple of inches in the slowest manner possible.
The next thing he knew, a strong gust of wind smacked his face to the side, and the snow was not falling anymore. He hadn't really noticed, because his eyes had been shut. He'd found it easier to navigate the storm with his eyes closed; open or closed, he could not see a darn thing anyway. His lids felt crusty with sand— it turns out it was not sand, but shredded ice that had a scratchy feel to it. Time was running out.
When he opened his eyes, he could see across the fjord finally, massive and frozen.
And he saw her.
It wasn't hard, because she was a dot of black in a sea of white— but there she was, directly across from him.
She saw him, too.
Krista was a few paces away, close enough to see the terror on her face, her breath freezing in the air before her as she ran, slipped, caught her footing again.
There was another stab of ice deep under his breastbone and he remembered the last time he'd seen her, just before the heavy gates closed, and his mind had turned immediately to what he thought he needed, to Helena, to Helena, and he wanted to cry in frustration and fear that he went to the wrong one, the wrong one, and he was going to die before she could reach him, he was...
"K—Krista," his breath was frozen tight in his throat, he forced his left foot forward, followed by his right, the left again...
Step, step, step...
She was not close enough, he couldn't hear her yet, but he saw her mouth move, two syllables and he knew— "Andy!"
Krista pumped her arms and gained speed and Andy almost dared to hope—almost— they're going to make it, they actually are, gods, in just a few seconds they'll—
The sound of steel being drawn is sharp and clear, and made Andy stop in his tracks.
He turned his head towards the noise—
If possible, his heart went even colder at the sight the storm's momentary pause revealed.
He narrowed his eyes, drinking in the scene. It was her again, it's Helena, and she's standing over— over Elliott, and her arm's raised, and there's... there's a sword in her hand, and she...
The princess walked towards his fallen brother in slow, measured steps. She thought she had all the time in the world. Like a cat toying with a mouse. The expression on her face was so twisted, so arrogant Andy could not understand how it belonged to her. Who hurt you he wanted to yell at her, why are you like this.
The sound of the sword being drawn had been loud, it still rang in his ears. But Elliott was not moving, he was still on the ground, his back to the murderous Princess. Had Elliott not heard it? Or did he simply... not care? What had she told him?!
"Elli... Elliott," he croaked, but his frozen vocal cords could not manage a better warning, a louder and booming hey, behind you!
I could be saved, half his mind said, Krista is running with all she's got— I could get a happy ending...
...But what kind of happy ending would that be?
True, she was almost halfway to him. He turned his head to the blonde running across the frozen fjord, longing and regret written all over his face. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
Spears of frost shot through his veins, expanding outwards, brittle ice spread over his skin, clawing up into his throat, filming over his eyes, and he knew— he's almost gone.
Love is sacrifice.
He squeezed the fire crystal in his frozen hand, crushing it. The surge of adrenaline to his limbs and heart was painful, for a moment almost incapacitating.
Love is putting someone else's needs before yours.
All his life, everyday, Elliott had sacrificed himself for him.
So Andy made his choice.
• • •
Why is he giving me that look, why— why does his face look like he's saying good-bye...?
Andy, you're running the other way, the wrong way, I'm here, I'm—
Krista's eyes widened.
That girl must be... Helena... why is Andy running in front of— No.
No, Andy, don't—
But Prince Andy did.
• • •
He saw the bright flash of wicked sharp metal coming down and—
he stepped right in front of the incoming iron, protecting Elliott, because it's what brothers should do, it's what you do for the people you love, and one last memory floated inside his half frozen brain, long ago in a frozen ballroom...
"You're gonna be okay, Andy... I got you..."
Andy smiled internally. This time, I got you.
Andy raised his bare hand to meet the steel, "NO!"
His vision went blue-white, and he's cold, so cold, but it's fading, everything's fading, and everything is white, cold, silent...
Prince Andy took his last breath as the cold hand holding his heart finally crushed it.
• • •
The King's smooth blue clothes shimmered in front of her, his broad back exposed— all it would take was a quick stab, just like she'd done the snow dragon. Now it was time to kill its creator.
She was getting a victory for once. A victory that belonged only to her, to her cunning, her wits, how she'd calculated and timed everything just right- even after her original plans had to be altered, she'd worked out perfect ways around the inconveniences. None of her sisters would be able to take this from her. Arendelle, the rich and resourceful kingdom in the north would be all hers.
I win, Helena thought with a snarl set on her face.
She brought her arm down with all her might—
— a flash of blue-white and magenta—
"NO!"
And her sword slammed down against the solid ice that was Prince Andy's outstretched hand, and everything went black after the force of the impact.
• • •
The sound of the sword shattering into a million pieces jolted Elliott out of his trance.
Elliott barely turned his head, what had happened, who dared—
A frozen hand, colored an unnatural blue hovered near his face. Long, slender fingers patterned with snowflakes.
And then Elliott saw the owner of the hand.
Elliott saw Anders, Andy, his brother, frozen solid.
"Andy," he was surprised to find his voice still worked, but the sound that came out was so broken Elliott was stunned to discover that it belonged to him.
He stood up so fast he was dizzy for a second, and he couldn't— couldn't understand how— how
Helena had said-
All the moisture in the air vanished, leaving his skin and lips chapped and raw, but the words still tumbled out of his mouth, a confused and hopeless babble, "Andy? Andy?" Lifeless eyes carved out of ice stared back at him. "Oh, Andy..."
The king barely registered the small, jagged crystals forming around his feet in a protective circle around the two, sharp enough to impale. It was happening, all over again, just like it had thirteen years ago...
His hands were shaking in front of him, he didn't know what to do with them, where to place them, how to stop them, but somehow they managed to find their way to Andy's frozen face. "No... please, no."
Your fault, this is all your fault.
Elliott stayed there, with his hands gingerly guarding his brother's face, as if his touch would somehow make the ice go away and bring the rosy, warm face back the way it was supposed to be. Bring the smile back. Andy's face wasn't smiling, it never would again. It was forever set on to look like that, with his brows raised, mouth open in a silent scream.
Elliott's touch didn't heal, it certainly did not thaw. All his icy touch did was hurt and destroy.
He could still hear Andy's hurt, angry voice...
"Why do you shut me out?!
Why do you shut the world out?
WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?!"
This, he wanted to scream, this is what I was so afraid of!
Suddenly it became too much, and Elliott couldn't bear to see Andy's face, Andy's dead face, and it's all your fault.
He lunged and pulled Andy into a fierce hug. And he held on tightly, like he would float away otherwise. A sob ripped through him, loud and ugly and un-kingly and he did not care.
"...m'boy?"
Elliott did not need to raise his eyes to know who that voice belonged to. The puzzlement, the disbelief, the sheer innocence could only be General Winter's.
For the first time in his life, Elliott felt cold.
++ah, i'm sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, but the finale is coming. one more chapter! and maybe an epilogue, so two more.. probably. i sincerely hope everyone is enjoying reading it as i've enjoyed writing it.
+thank you so much for the faves/follows/reviews, they really do mean a lot and now there's just one final pull before the end.
as always, thank you for reading!:)