Rifiuto: Non Mirena

July, 1858

Halsten Castle,

Southern Isles

"Time to get up, sleepyhead! The sky's been awake for hours, as you should have been! Papa and Mama are holding breakfast until you join us-" She stopped at the ragged breathing, paling as her younger brother's gaze slowly met hers. "Annie?" But the boy didn't respond, not even when the private nickname only his siblings used left his sister's lips. She took a deep breath, a niggling feeling deep in the back of her brain that her beloved brother would never get up for breakfast again-

Just like Bet- She crumpled to her knees by the bed, reaching to take the hand that dangled over the side as he lay facing her.

"Anja, come on, get up! You're to be at the breakfast table in ten minutes! Papa's- what's wrong?"

Her prayers interrupted, she turned to see her brother in the doorway. "Tell Mama and Papa to fetch the doctor, Nethie. Tell them it's urgent-"

The twelve-year-old stepped closer. "Why? What's going on, Millie?"

"Just go! Now!"

Hans looked up at the sound of footsteps. "It's about time, Vanja Agnar. You know our rules regarding-"

But the words died in his throat as Annes stumbled to a stop, white curls tumbling into his eyes. "Papa, send for the doctor. It's urgent."

The king and queen shared a glance, before they got up from the table. Henrik, the young Southern Isles steward hurried to do as the young prince asked. Anna glanced at the other children as her sister and brother-in-law rushed from the room, following their oldest son.

"No."

Milla turned at the voice, unaware her parents had rushed into the room. Tears raced down her cheeks as Mama rushed towards her second son's bed. She dropped to her knees by her daughter, reaching up to brush shaking fingers through auburn curls. "My boy... my baby boy... my little warrior..." Feeling Papa's presence behind her, and she looked up at him, as he knelt beside her. Over her shoulder, she could see her other siblings in the doorway with Auntie Anna-

"You had gotten... you were supposed to get better." Mama's choked proclamation tore at her heart. She watched as Mama brought his hand up to kiss, before pressing her forehead to the skin. Papa wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her his strength, as he brushed back the boy's curls, tears in his green eyes. Silent, Milla scrambled away, joining her siblings. The sound of the prayers dripping from Mama and Papa's lips- prayers to any of the old gods listening- rang like a haunting melody as they knelt before the makeshift alter upon which their third-born lay.

Milla turned to Annes, who had Netta curled into his side. Sof rushed to her oldest sister, and Milla quickly wrapped the child in a hug. Auntie Anna had disappeared, but she was the last of her worries, when their forced quintet now balanced precariously in purgatory.

Relegated to their parent's study while Dr. Isben examined the boy, the other children had been unable to sit still and wait. After about fifteen minutes or so, they'd snuck from the study, only returning in time to watch their brother breathe his last in their mother's arms. "... tect Bet, Mama... promise..." Even in his last moments, Anja made sure to do as their parents expected him to- look out for his favourite sister. That promise would haunt Milla until her dying breath; the children were nothing if not royal, used to the limited duties their parents allowed, mainly duties focused on looking out for each other when not in lessons-

"Vanja... wake up..." Mama shook him gently, tears clogging her throat. "No... wake for me, baby... please...vær så snill... vær så snill... no..." The sight of the queen gathering the body of her second oldest son to her chest as she broke down tore at everyone. Her screams chilled the blood of all who heard them, echoing through the halls; a mother's recent grief, now multiplied by a second loss.

"Majesty -"

But she ignored Dr. Ibsen, holding the boy closer, begging through her sobs. "Wake for me... please... Guder, vær så snill, ikke mitt barn. Please... I beg you... my child... come back to me... my baby... please... back to me... come back..."

"Eliza." Papa's voice was filled with tears, as he struggled to remain strong in the wake of this second loss, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, reaching for the boy. "Eliza, you have to... let him go... Please, my love."

She shook her head, gathering him tighter against her, holding his head against her chest, like she used to do when he was a babe. She pressed a kiss to his curls. "... hear my heart... okay, baby boy... right here... Mama's here... I won't let... hurt you..." She pressed another firm kiss to the boy's head, kicking out at Dr. Ibsen when he tried to remove Anja's now lifeless body from her arms. "No, stay away! You stay away from my son! Don't you touch him!" She pressed another kiss to his head, continuing to rock gently with him in her arms. "Mama's here, baby boy... promise, Mama's... here..."

Milla looked up as several of the servants and Auntie Anna rushed in to try and help Dr Ibsen and Papa with her, even as she fought against them. At one point, Papa got up, going to Auntie Anna and whispering something only she could hear, who nodded before hurrying into the room. Mama's gone mad-

"You kept me from Liesel, Anna! For four days, you kept me from my child! I asked repeatedly, and you did not tell me she had died! You have no right to come here and take my son from me when you did not inform me of my daughter's death! I don't want to see you! Get out! All of you! Get out!"

"Majesty, please! This is not doing you any good! You have to-"

Milla, Annes and the younger girls watched from the doorway as they finally managed to pull the boy's lifeless body from Mama's arms, even as the servants forcibly held her down. The doctor cradled Anja gently, tenderly, for he knew how important the boy was to his king and queen, forcibly ignoring the queen's screams, even as the king grabbed her around the waist to hold her back. The children watched as their father, so much taller and stronger than their mother, curled around her, whispering softly to her, even as she fought hard against him.

At some point, Papa managed to get her out of the room and back to their chambers despite that she kicked and hit and did everything to get him to release her. The children chased after them, stumbling to a stop in the doorway, in time to see a storm rapidly building within their parents' chambers. It was a storm no one would dare enter, for the famous Snow Queen was again in mourning. They watched her push Papa away, saw her struggle with him as deep, thick ice dashed across the floor and up the walls, across the ceiling and over the windows, pulsing a deep black to reflect her grief; Milla noticed that it almost appeared to beat, like the beating of a heart-

"- gone! He can't come back!" Papa shook her, reaching up to grab her face to meet her gaze. "Listen to me, Eliza! Look at me!" The storm drowned out what he continued to say, but it was her scream that seemed to freeze everyone in place; the ice cracked and shattered over the windows, as she collapsed in his arms. Milla watched as they crumpled to the ground, Mama curled in Papa's arms as he held her, rocking her gently back and forth. Glancing at her siblings, Milla moved to cross the threshold, when Papa looked up. He met his daughter's gaze, as Mama reached out a hand, ice shimmering on her fingertips. "No!" Papa grabbed her hand, pulling it back, as the door slammed shut, locking the monarchs in with the crackle of ice and their children out.