A/N: And so begins what we've been building to… I'm so sorry for the long wait. All aboard the Helsa train, Hoo-hoo!

Chapter Twenty One

What They're Going To Say

"I won't stay in my room, George. Don't try and trick me into staying in my room," Allowyn scolded, digging through her bureau and tossing silky undergarments aside. "I want to see her just as much as you do. Now where is my brooch?"

"Confound it, woman, you're just as stubborn as you were the day we met!" George fumed, throwing his arms into the air. "I've already got to confront my children causing a complete scene during dinner last night, not to mention speaking to my estranged prince-turned-pirate son whom I haven't seen in fifteen years; I do not need to worry about you over-exerting yourself trying to make amends with a girl who could have been a daughter-in-law!"

"Don't be foolish, George." Allowyn pulled a plush velvet-lined chair in front of an elaborate mirror situated in her bureau. She struggled to affix a jeweled pin resembling a sprig of lilac to her collar, the amethysts sparkling in the sunlight. "I just want to see her. I won't mention anything out of turn… our Lord knows she's already been through enough, suddenly thrust into the role of Queen after losing her parents. God rest their souls… Idun was my friend." Her hand went to graze the pale skin of her throat, following the groove of the skin down to the pin resting near her collarbone. "My closest friend."

"… And Agdar was mine." George leaned and put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Pain of a loss will always exist, will always haunt us. But we cannot let it rule us now."

"You're right… you go and speak to your son, George. I'll see to Elsa in the meantime, until you're finished." She rose and walked with him to their bedroom door. "And George?" Her husband turned to face her as they opened the doors and emerged into the hallway. "Be gentle with him."

#

Heinrik shook out his blouse's long, silky sleeves, rolling his neck and examining himself in a large mirror lining the wall of the sitting room. He scratched his neck aimlessly, pulling at the fanciful lacy collar. Though he'd returned to dressing in princely garb, it was solely for the comfort of those around him, and not his own. He had no idea where they'd put his clothing, but with his ship on lockdown in the harbor, it wasn't likely he'd be able to obtain more any time soon. The only things he managed to hold onto were his two golden hoop earrings, which he toyed with absently. Facing the large stained doors, one side ajar for the moment, he rehearsed once more what he planned to say.

"Hello, sir." He wrinkled his nose. "No, he's your father, not a diplomat… It's been a while, hasn't it?" He shook his head. "That's even worse. Too casual. Hi, Dad!" He ran his hands through his hair and tugged at his collar again with a sigh. For a long time he had tried, unsuccessfully, to pull out the weed of bitterness which had so firmly been planted in his heart that day he left home for his marriage. Finally, he'd settled for ignoring it, burying himself in the business of being a pirate. It was only now, when everything was uncovered, he would have to face it again, after the roots had plenty of time to imbed. He tugged at the collar too hard, popping a button which fell with a small tink noise to the floor.

"Whassamatter? Too tight for you?" remarked an amiable voice from behind him.

Heinrik whirled and blinked as Johan entered the room through the open window. He was glad to see a familiar face, in more ways than one. Johan had, much like him, maintained his standard pirate look in the wake of new surroundings. "What are you doing? How did you-"

"My mother came to see to your mother's health, and I was asked to follow along, in case she needed assistance." Heinrik pursed his lips. "The window was open," added Johan with a friendly shrug. The two of them had often used windows as an escape port as children and explored the outer, flat portions of the castle, serving their own sense of adventure while simultaneously giving their mothers panic attacks.

Heinrik raised his eyebrows and glanced over behind him. "So's the door."

"I didn't think we used those anymore," replied Johan, pulling out a chair and propping his feet up on a coffee table.

"I broke one of the imported salad plates," Heinrik grumbled, bending down and picking up the fallen button.

"Look at it this way, at least you'll be able to attract the ladies without any extra rich cologne. You smell good enough to eat!" Johan sniffed, following with a short bark of laughter. Heinrik raised an eyebrow and Johan let his laughter dwindle into chuckles. "The whole castle's rife with gossip about the food fight."

"Har har har, we're all reeling in our seats, Jo-Jo," Heinrik commented, tossing the button at his friend.

"Steady on," replied Johan, dodging the small projectile nimbly with a lean to the side. "Only having a bit of fun with you… are things really all that hard?"

"Yes! And no." Heinrik drummed his fingers along his elbow. "I haven't spoken to my father yet, but I suspect our reunion will not be as smooth as we both hope… you did hear of who has come calling upon our court, didn't you?"

"The Queen Elsa, people are saying. Is it true?" Johan fiddled with a curl of his hair.

"As far as I know." Heinrik's expression darkened. "I just can't believe… after all these years. They would do that to me."

"Hold on a moment there, captain."Johan crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "You don't know that; don't go counting your treasure before we rob the ship."

"Very nice lingo," commented the pirate prince with a roll of his eyes.

"Pirate talk. It sticks with you. You want my advice?" Johan asked, getting to his feet.

"Do I have a choice?" Heinrik leaned against the wall and watched his first mate with a scowl.

"No, you don't." Johan examined a bowl of fruit settled on one of the tables and popped a few grapes in his mouth. He studied Heinrik with a serious expression and continued. "Don't fly off the handle. Your temper runs hot, and it's been simmering for far too long now. Keep it under control, have a good talk with your father, and take some time to figure out where you're going next, what their plans are for your future," he elaborated. "The crew's having the time of their lives in Havetby with their share of our loot, so you have plenty of time to think about what you want to do next… you know I'll follow you, no matter what you decide, whether it be to stay here or go back to our lives before all this happened."

"That's about the only thing I know for sure, anymore…" Heinrik replied. "How did your mother take your return, by the way?"

"About as well as can be expected. She grabbed my ear and lit me up hotter than a cannon."

Heinrik smiled. "Mine, too." He jerked his head toward the window. "You should go now, I think. Before somebody sees you and starts counting the silver."

"Mother will be looking for me. I think she wants to take me to get some clothes to look like a 'decent young man', as she says. 'So every James and Mary don't think I'm going to rob them.'" He approached the window and stuck one leg out before Heinrik spoke.

"You could use the door."

Johan flashed a smile and stepped out, disappearing around the corner. "Well, now, what fun would that be?"

As it turned out, Johan left at the most adequate time, because it was not but five minutes later the doors opened wide to reveal the king of the Southern Isles. He turned with quiet affirmation, shut the doors behind him with a whisper to ward off spying servant eyes, and turned. For a long moment, father and estranged son simply regarded one another. The deafening silence seemed as if it were never to end.

George cleared his throat, took a step closer, and tried his best to compare the man in front of him to his son he'd sent off by engagement years ago. Yes, he decided, time had sculpted his son in a variety of ways. He was taller, more lean with muscles defining his body, and… harder in sense, his boyish features replaced by rugged, handsome charm. "Well, son… you look… different." He quickly continued, adding on, "it's a good different."

"Thanks." Heinrik managed with a half-smile, as if unsure whether the comment was really meant to be positive or not. "It's good to be home."

"You wasted no time in stirring things up, did you? Helm tells me he incited the scuffle, but I'm sure you didn't help matters, did you? All of you destroyed the dignity I would expect my children to uphold in public eye. You've also created hours of extra work for the servants to clean, wasting food which many of our subject worked hard to produce. This blatant disregard for my honor simply cannot be tolerated. What do you propose I do about it?" George asked, interested in how his son would respond.

"Oh, Dad, relax, it was only a bit of fun," Heinrik said, waving a hand in the air.

George froze, the words foreign for the briefest moment, before they sank below his skin and warmed his heart. "What did you say?"

"I said it was only a bit of fun… Dad." Heinrik murmured the last word as if he himself had not expected it to come from his mouth. It had been instinctive, but somehow bridged the gap between the estranged parent and son which had seemed so impossible to cross for so long. Heinrik visualized the words before they came, and nearly held them back, but he knew if he did not speak them now, he might never express his heart at all. "I have something I have to say, sir. And you have to listen, because I'm not sure I can say it again after this."

George blinked in surprise, straightened his shoulders, and nodded once, expecting his son to express anger or bitterness. He steeled himself against the hurtful words which were sure to come. "Alright."

Heinrik let his hands fall to his sides, looked at his father, and murmured. "Dad, I… I missed you."

Even after trying to steel himself, George reeled from those words, which struck him deeper than any verbal assault ever could have. He stepped forward, swept his son into a tight embrace, and patted his back. "I missed you, too."

It wasn't until they parted, the king's hand still on his son's shoulder, Heinrik managed to speak again. "Dad, I… I know there's a lot to talk about… who I've been… who I'm going to be now… but I don't think now is the time. Not with Queen Elsa here… I just… I have to be sure. I know you planned for us to marry once… and I know I ran from that responsibility. I have to know… are we still… going through with those plans?"

"What?" George shook his head, squeezing his son's shoulder. "No… no, of course we aren't. Son, that was a long time ago… I would never expect you to be-"

Heinrik's memories raged until they bubbled into interruption. "But you did, didn't you? That's what you all wanted. Did you ever ask me if I wanted to marry her? Did you ever even care?"

George frowned, his eyes softening. "Of course we did, son, of course we did… but you never said anything… you seemed… accepting. If you never wanted to go through with it, you should have told us. We would have spoken with her parents. We would have figured out a solution… why didn't you tell us?"

Heinrik was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "Because I remembered Kris. She was going to marry because you wanted her to. Because royalty means priviledge and responsibility... Because… it was the right thing to do."

The king shook his head, dropping his gaze. "… after she… she died, I remember some of the court… they said it was because of us. They said she was driven to it… if I'd known you didn't want it… I never would have…"

"No, Dad." Heinrik stated firmly, shaking his head. "It wasn't your fault. We all know that." Heinrik put his hand on his father's shoulder. "I'm not going to say it will be easy, Dad. I don't even know where to start. But I do know this… I'm glad to be home."

George smiled, crinkling the edge of his beard. "You may not know where to start, son. But I do. We're going to hold a proper welcome home."

#

In front of an audience of unseeing eyes, Elsa paced, wringing her hands. She murmured to herself as the pictures of the gallery stared at her silently. "Conceal-no, just… control it, Elsa. You're not home now. You're on your first diplomatic venture. You have to stay calm." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing herself to relax. "I wish you were here, Anna." She heard her sister's voice echoing in her memory, as they had unwanted, uncomfortably heated discussions in the days following the Extravaganza's end.

"Elsa, you can't have a cold shoulder against me forever. I told you I was sorry, but I just had to help him break out. His mother was sick, I mean, really sick. She might have died; I don't even know if he got to her in time. How many nights have you wished we had one more chance to say goodbye to our parents?"

"Anna, please." Elsa put two fingers to her forehead and rubbed. "You deliberately undermined my authority and could have put both of our lives at risk! You know what he tried to do before, how can you have wanted to help him?"

Anna gently grasped her sister's hands and interlaced her fingers in the spaces, staring at her. "Elsa, you're a scholar, an athlete, a poet…you are beautiful, and, and everyone is totally lucky to have you as their esteemed leader. I promise, I've never been jealous of you, I mean, if I were queen I'd be holding all-you-can-eat chocolate holidays once a week and other crazy things, by the way feel free to glean from my ideas here, but, you are so, so wise. I've always been uncertain of where I belonged… but you gotta believe me, because I think I know what I'm supposed to do here, and that's to look after you, helping you see things you might miss. You don't know the whole story, but I know Hans is sorry. He's not dangerous. He's not the monster you fear he is." Elsa's eyes widened at the familiarity of the words, and she glanced away from her sister. Anna paused and blew her bangs from her face in frustration. "The whole reason he came back was to make things right with you. He hasn't been able to think or talk about anything else since he's been here."

Elsa broke hand contact with her sister, feeling the chill of fear running through her body. It started as pinpricks, the magic sending goosebumps running along her pale skin. She couldn't be touching her. Not now. "What do you mean, since he's been here? How long has he been here? How long have you known about this?"

Anna froze for an instant without Elsa's influence and began to stammer. "Um, well, not that long…I mean, just a few days…or maybe a couple of weeks," she mumbled through the corner of her mouth. "We sort of ran into each other at Kristoff's cabin after I went to visit and his brother fell through the ice and almost died and I hit him with a frying pan, but then he told me the whole story about why he came back and, and I really was sorry, and hey, he didn't have brain damage or anything-"

"Wait, Anna, slow down," Elsa commanded. "Kristoff's brother fell through the ice and you hit him with a frying pan? I didn't know he had a brother."

Anna huffed and crossed her arms. "No, Hans' brother, Elsa. Try and focus here." After several long moments of explanations and wild body gestures from her sister, Elsa finally began to piece the story together.

"Okay, Anna." Elsa said gently. "I'm beginning to understand why you felt justified in trusting Hans and letting him go. I guess we'll never know for sure what would have happened, and the important thing is: we're safe now. He's gone and I won't be seeing him again."

Anna watched her sister closely, following her face as she looked down, away from her. There was something there, in her eyes… regret? "Maybe you will, Elsa. I saw you when you were with him during the extravaganza. You didn't know who he was, but there was something between you two… you were having fun together… your eyes looked… warm."

For a second, Elsa experienced a flashback waking up next to a little boy holding onto the other leg of a familiar stuffed snowman. "Anna!" She exclaimed, recoiling. "I didn't even know who he was! Whatever you think you saw, it was your imagination."

"Elsa, you've got to see him again. You have to go to the Southern Isles and confront him. You'll never be able to let it go unless you face him. And I know I'm not imagining the trouble our people are in right now. People are going to die, unless we establish trade connections with another country to get the food we need. Right now, the Southern Isles is our best bet. Hans promised to help us establish a trade treaty with both his own country and the Northern Isles. We were going to have him help here, but after the craziness with the extravaganza and all… well… you've got to go there."

"Oh, Anna," Elsa murmured with an exasperated sigh. "Why would they agree to help us? What could our tiny country possibly matter to the king and queen of the Southern Isles?"

"Elsa, you may not see it," Anna said slowly, toying with her fingers. "But you mean something to Hans… he will try to help us. You've got to confront him, or you'll have a storm swirling inside you forever… and how do you know what they're going to say until you try? You can do this; I know you can. You are Queen Elsa, the wonderful wielder of the winter and the sweet sister I love. You've always known how to fix things. So-" She walked over to her sister's closet and opened it, removing a carpetbag and hefting it to the bed. "Let's start packing."

Elsa's memories were interrupted by a squeak of protest from the hinges as the far door to the gallery swung open. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, but instead of Hans she saw a pale, elegant woman in queenly attire enter. The pictures and documents she'd studied concerning surrounding kingdoms and their royal families had not spoken much of anyone beyond facts. She remembered King George and the queen's name, Allowyn, but nothing further.

Elsa hesitated as she thought through the rules of royal formality in her mind. It was likely that, considering her seniority in her position, the queen of the Isles would expect a curtsey first. However, doing so put Elsa in a light of submission, and that was certainly not something she wanted to convey at a time like this. She needed to appear proud, strong, and most of all, capable. She held her breath as the queen approached, but her fierce guard was shattered as the queen took the folds of the ornate dress and curtsied to her.

"Hello, Elsa. Welcome to the Southern Isles." She was already nothing like Elsa had imagined. She had time to ruminate on the household of Hans after he was sent home, and she'd imagined his mother as stern, serious, and calculating. The women before her looked nothing but calm, loving and gentle. "We are so grateful for your visit."

"Thank you," Elsa replied in a voice she hoped wasn't as nervous as she felt.

"My, my, you've grown so much. You were only a girl when we met last. I doubt you remember…" the queen trailed off with a longing look as if she hoped Elsa would.

"I don't, really," Elsa said, her hands firmly planted at her sides. "But I know my parents were friends with you. Our kingdoms had a strong bond. In order to show Arendelle is still willing to share good will, I've come to discuss future trade possibilities between our countries."

"Oh, Elsa… need you be so formal?" Allowyn asked, her expression crumbling a little as if hurt.

Elsa's heart twinged at the sight, but she did not say anything. She tried to shift her focus and walked a little ways away from Allowyn, examining the paintings half-heartedly so she would not have to see the sadness in the sick woman's eyes. She was keenly aware Allowyn was following along behind silently.

The gallery was huge, twice the size of her family's own. She could recognize many of the pictures as portraits of boys at many different ages. Suddenly, her eyes stopped on the sight of a familiar face among the others. The painting was of two women, one obviously Queen Allowyn, standing beside someone she recognized very well indeed. "Mother." She saw Allowyn step beside her and nodded towards the picture. Without thinking, Elsa's hand moved to touch Idun's figure, resting upon it. "This is my mother." Emotions began to swell within her unbidden, snaking their way from her heart to down her arms and finally channeling through her fingers. She dropped her hand like deadweight, the portrait faintly sparkling with faint snowflakes at the corners.

"Yes." Allowyn smiled and stopped before the picture, unaware of the corners as the flakes melted and left tiny spots. More faded and duller in color than many of the others, the painting depicted two regal women standing next to each other in very early days of ruling, each with a sprig of lilac behind their ears. "Oh, Elsa… how you look like her."

"Father always said I did. Anna looked more like him." Her gaze shifted to the picture beside it, and her brow furrowed as she studied it. It depicted a very solemn little boy, facing his onlookers with a pained look in his green eyes. Beside him, leaning against his foot, was an eerily familiar stuffed and carefully-sewn horse with a black and white mane. She must have stared at the youngest prince's portrait in silence for some time, because she was snapped out of her thought by Allowyn's soft voice.

"I don't like this picture of him. Let me show you my favorite." she said, moving sideways and stopping before a large picture half-hidden by a curtain draped by the window. "My husband had this one moved here… and we've never gotten around to putting it anywhere else."

Elsa stared, her jaw going slack and gaping as she looked. It was most definitely Hans, younger than he had been in the last picture, but he was with a girl who looked no older than Anna was now. The two of them were laughing together, with him half-tumbling from her lap in the way a child squirms when he's tickled. "He looks… so happy."

"He loved her so." Allowyn brought her hand to rub at the jeweled brooch settled amongst her throat. "We all did, but Hans was special."

"Who is she?" Elsa asked, eyes stuck on the girl's bright, cheerful face entirely focused on the boy in her lap. She thought back on all her lessons, on all the history of the Southern Isles line, but all the books and references mentioned the famed thirteen princes, nothing more.

"Hannah, my daughter." Allowyn smiled as her hand stroked the pin. "Though she preferred to be called Kris."

"I didn't know you had a daughter. The books never mention-" Elsa caught herself before she prematurely said something rude. "Then… what happened to her?" She ventured, facing Allowyn and meeting her eyes.

"There was an accident." Allowyn began, trying to be delicate, but Elsa's eyes already shone with understanding. She'd heard those words before. Anna used those words the day her knock on Elsa's door changed. She knew what they meant. She knew how disgusting it was to hear the word accident followed by such an unchangeable loss.

She bowed her head at a slight decline. "I'm sorry." She was sorely aware of how pitiful those words sounded. How little comfort they truly gave. "I really am."

"It was when Hans was very young. My daughter fell through the ice and drowned. Hans was found unconscious near the break point. He was frozen." The words sent shudders through Elsa, and she moved her arms to hug herself loosely, one of her habits which made her feel in control, made her secure. "But the cold did not part from him, even after the ensuing sickness. He grew cold in spirit. That is when we brought him to your kingdom in hopes of helping his recovery."

"I might remember some of it," Elsa said, her thoughts jumbling together.

"He's never spoken of it, not to this day... I had hoped that sending him to your coronation would help him. A mother will never give up on her child… never. But I don't know that it did help… he's tried so hard to see you, to talk to you after what happened…"

Never spoken of it. Elsa's memories flashed to her last meeting with Hans.

You can't run from this!

Take care of my sister.

Your sister is dead.

Because of you.

"Elsa?"

Elsa blinked several times and eased her grip on her arms, taking note of the prints left in her fingers' wake. "Yes?" she breathed.

"Are you alright?" Allowyn asked, concern lining her features.

"Yes," Elsa replied, dredging her thoughts back to present day, forcing herself to make eye contact with Allowyn. "If you would be so kind, your highness, to have someone ask my lady-in-waiting to start unpacking our things. I would like to proceed with our plans for trade discussion tomorrow... on one condition."

"What is that?" Allowyn gently soothed, reminding Elsa far too much of her own mother.

"I want Hans present." Elsa stated, her eyes roving over the walls to avoid unwanted memories, settling on a portrait of Hans recently done.

"I think we can arrange it." Allowyn said with a serene smile. "As for your lady-in-waiting, I'll see it done myself." She curtsied, a movement with years of practiced grace. "If you should need anything else, please, don't hesitate to let someone know. Thank you for visiting us, Elsa… you may think me impertinent for saying so, but Idun was my best friend. I think of you as my own child, and I am certain when I tell you… I don't think she could be prouder."

Elsa watched her go, her movements so light it appeared as if she floated over the floor. It was only after the door closed Elsa returned her gaze to the picture of her mother. Her lips quivered and alone in the empty room, she let the tears stream down her cheeks, where they solidified into tiny pieces of sparkling ice.

A/N: Let it goo let it goo, You'll never see me cryyy! Revelations everywhere! As a side note, this chapter was difficult to write, but I feel it turned out well. Greatest thanks goes out to all my reviewers, thank you for your support!