The King of Arendelle

Lenge Leve Kongen

The world was a blur.

Coming to with a start, Elsa languidly rolled her head to the side, trying to figure out where she was and what had just happened.

One minute, she was holding onto her father, the next, she was here. It was completely dark now, she could see the stars in the sky. Her body was as heavy as lead and she couldn't push herself up.

"Jack...?" She moaned, calling his name out of instinct. Her voice didn't reach past a whisper, for the snow had been crushing her unconscious body before the surviving guards dug her out.

She'd never been in this much pain before—and she'd given birth twice.

Where was everyone? Surely somebody else was with her.

She was so full of cuts and bruises that her white blouse beneath her black bolero jacket was now red.

Nicholas. Agnes. My babies. Their faces appeared in her mind and she let out a loud grunt of agony as she tried to push herself upright.

"Your Highness?" She saw an Arendelle guard seated on a rock nearby. He'd laid her on top of his cloak and was just beginning to nod off when he heard her voice. "General! The Princess! She's awake!"

"Where's Jack? Where's my father?" She asked with what little voice she had.

Mattias came forward and looked utterly relieved. "Thank the Gods!" He was battered too. They all were. She could hear all their teeth chattering in a cacophonous symphony. He knelt beside her and gently took one of her hands, "Are you all right?"

"I'm not sure." How could she be? She could barely move; she had cuts on her face, shoulders, and back, and one of her eyes was reddened from a broken blood vessel. "Have you seen Jack?"

"No," his answer shook her, "we've been looking for hours, but the snow is just so deep. Now it's getting dark."

"Dark and cold," added the subordinate. He watched as Westergaard and Arendellian men alike searched for supplies to try and make a fire. It amazed him how easily they set aside their differences for the sake of survival. It was touching, truly. But Elsa wouldn't care about any of this, she only had one thing on her mind.

"We have to find him! Where's my father?" Surely if they found her, then Agnarr must be somewhere aiding his soldiers.

"Your Highness..." Mattias began grimly, "we haven't found him either."

If Elsa's skin could be any paler, it became just that. Mattias watched her face go as white as the snow and her red-rimmed eyes go wide. Both her husband and her father were missing? Not to mention, there was...

"Hans hasn't been found." The guard said. "His father, however..."

As his voice trailed off, Elsa put the pieces together, "King Harald is dead?"

Mattias swallowed, remembering the sight. He'd seen many graphic images throughout his life as a mercenary and swordsman, but the condition Harald had been left in was hard for even the most hardened soldier to stomach.

"He would've been tried as a traitor anyhow." Rationalized the man. "I say this was a pleasant way for him to go."

Elsa tried to stand, but Mattias stopped her, "Your Highness, please. You're in no condition to start walking around just yet."

I'll be the judge of that, she remarked in her head and pressed on. "Help me stand," she groaned.

"Princess–"

"That's an order!" What could either of the men say now? On either side of her, they took an arm and helped her to her feet. She was wobbly and her knees were shaky, but she managed to stagger away from the torn cloak and towards the survivors. She had to find Jack; they had children they needed to return to.