Rifiuto: Non Mirena

1908

The Garden of Linnea Castle

Arendelle

"Was she okay? Being thrown from a horse can be fatal if not treated immediately-"

He met Magda's gaze; in that moment, he saw her, worry filling her gaze, as she cradled her oldest child against her chest in that meadow. Oh, the fear that had filled his heart as he'd rushed towards the queen and her heir, as he'd stumbled to his knees by her side, instantly taking the girl from the queen and checking her heart. And the relief as he'd discovered that the young princess's heart still beat, and she'd merely been knocked out by the fall.

"Why is she not breathing?"

"Her heart's still beating-"

"But she's not-"

"Getting upset will do her no good! You have to calm down! We need to get her back to Jannicke, so the physician can look after her."

"But-"

"It's our best course of action, Your Majesty! The physician can tell better than I can how badly she's been hurt."

He remembered the tense moments as they'd returned to Jannicke, the surprise and shock at the sight of him carrying the young Crown Princess, and how the Princess had jumped as he'd ordered her to send for the physician. It had been tense, agonizing moments as they'd waited for the doctor to arrive, and once he had, the wait had only extended as he'd gone to tend to the Crown Princess. Once it had been explained that she'd been thrown from her horse, the rest of the household waited in anxious silence; the queen was beside herself with worry for her oldest beloved child; if the Crown Princess passed, it would throw the country into great mourning-

"Camilla, if a horse rears like that, you never tug on the reins."

"Then how-"

"Throw your arms around its neck as though you're hugging one of your siblings, and it will keep you from being thrown."

"She was fine; the fall had knocked her unconscious. She had a small bump on her head from hitting the ground, and a few bruises, but overall, she'd landed in soft grasses and those had cushioned her fall. But still... it had greatly scared the queen, and with good reason. The child was barely turned eleven, the heir to two thrones, and openly unacknowledged as her parents' favorite child. Subconsciously, the king and queen placed the fate of their separated yet shared monarchies on the shoulders of their oldest daughter, even if unintentionally."

"But they had other children-" Sasha spoke up as the adults shared glances.

"But the oldest is always the heir to the throne, Sasha." Sofia replied, and everyone turned to her, even as she lifted her cup to her lips. He nodded to her, letting his gaze study rove gently over her features.

Always the matter of fact one, so like the king. It always surprised Her Majesty, that you were more like him than her. He smiled softly. "Especially in Arendelle." His gaze slid over each of them in turn, thinking back to those winter months when they would spend Jul together under the guise of good faith and peace between their kingdoms before the courts and their people, while behind closed doors they celebrated as any family would. It was during the King's visit in December of fifty-six that they received an invitation from Victoria and Albert to join them for Christmas in Britain the next year, of which the family immediately agreed. But oh, the year that came before that long-ago Christmas had been one filled with change, excitement and heartache...

"Grandpapa?"

He turned to Lisi, who tugged on his sleeve. "Yes, my darling?"

"What happens next?"

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached up, gently ruffling her hair. "Eighteen-fifty-seven was perhaps even more eventful for the king and queen than the previous years had been, though not necessarily in the way you would expect. No children were born to the couple in that year, but both the king and queen faced assassination attempts within that year, four months apart, the king's in January, and the queen's in May. And while the king had assured his wife that the man had been caught well before anything could happen, it was the queen who faced an attempted assassin's bullet within her own court."

Gasps met his statement, as glances were shared. "Was she hurt?" Bess asked, wrapping her arms protectively around her belly as she glanced at her sister. He sighed, the image of the queen dropping to the floor of her chambers that day- in the lightness of her bedclothes and robe, the shawl around her shoulders, her hair tumbling down her back in a loose braid flashing in his memory as her screams echoed back to him, as though he'd heard them only yesterday. She had clutched her chest, as though the mere action of holding her chest would keep her heart from shattering. The princess had stumbled to her side midst the swirling snow, but she'd pushed the princess away, too trapped within her pain.

"Gods no, not my husband! Not... not my husband... Gods above, no... give him back to me... I beg you... I implore you... I cannot live without him... do not take him from me... or take me too... please... Johannes!"

The temperatures within the queen's chambers had dropped so low due to her grief, that the queen herself had near frozen to death. It was the first time the queen had been affected by her own magic, and it scared the princess greatly, who feared she would lose her sister then and there. It had taken her seeing him, touching him, hearing his heart to bring her back from that precipice, and they had then done all they could to keep her from ever reaching that moment again, for it had scared them all so. In the end, it had been his kiss that had brought her back, and he'd watched as the realization that he was alive and relatively okay had struck her. Not bothered by the cold, he'd taken her hands, pressing warm kisses into her frozen palms, and it was as though his very touch had the power to thaw her frozen heart.

"... h... Hans?"

"You're so cold... oh Eliza, you feel me, don't you? I'm here, I'm alive. That I promise you... you must come back to me, Eliza. Please, my beloved, my dearest... come back to me... you hear it? My heart still beats, despite the attempt that tried to still it. It beats for you, and only you... please, Eliza, return to me, as I've returned to you... my love, please... please, I cannot lose you..."

He had kissed her, deeply, soundly, the tears he shed landing on her cheeks and freezing upon contact. They had watched as the king had removed his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and held the queen's head against the bare skin of his chest, her ear over his heart. Recognizing the familiar sound, she had broken down then, clinging to him, her grief-stricken screams turning to sobs of relief. The king had slept in her chamber that night, curled tight around his queen, face buried in her tumbling locks, the heat from his body melting the layer of ice that had coated her skin, breaking her grief-filled fever, in a way. She had stayed as close to him as she could during that visit, refusing to leave his side much at all when they were alone, and the king had merely pulled her closer, refusing to let her stray too far from his side.

"No, but she was shaken, greatly. Even more so because her husband was due to visit to discuss strengthening their treaties, and the man who attempted to take her life was from the Isles. It was seen by her council as an attempt to take power by the Isles. Her alliance with the Isles was called into question, and for a time, all visits between the couple were stopped. It was not until December that the couple decided a visit to Britain was in order, to be seen as a gesture of goodwill between the three nations- and, that perhaps Britain could quell the tensions in the air."

"And the kiss, Grandpapa?" Ludi asked.

"We will get to that, Ludi, my darling. But not yet."