Frozen Days (Jelsa Fanfiction)

Frozen Days Chapter 5

[ re-written! :) also missing chapters mean it's still under a lot of editing!! ]

          "Needless to say, I didn't see him after that." My mouth tips to a slight curve of a smile. My breath hitching to the moon's dim bloom of light illuminating to my window.

          It seems I didn't keep track of time.

          Grumbling incoherent words, I gather my remaining strength to push myself up from the ground, dusting off my behind I saunter to my bed and immediately flop on it. Re-arranging my position, I shuffle my arms and legs under the bed sheet before I let out a sigh of contempt to the small warmth. Tucking at the comforter to pull it closer, I shut my eyes closed as soon as sleep had gotten to me.

          And soon, I let the darkness raid my trail of thoughts, and before I knew it, I was re-living all of my horrible moments that dropped the temperature of the room. Once again, fear always has this way to creep on my back, or so it seems.

          So you'd think just because I'm to become queen, means I don't wake up untangled with bed sheets, hair practically pointing out to insane angles, and dried drool trailing down my chin? If you did actually have thought of that, think again, reality isn't perfect!

          I groan, "Coronation day," shoving my legs to the edge of the bed, I leap off the mattress before getting ready for a big day. In other words, it's coronation day! Am I excited?

          Not really.

          After I hurriedly cleanse myself from any morning issue, I put on the dress that always scared me to the bone. I hoped, prayed, anything that can help me on this day, and after all this, it would be over. At the least, I hope so.

          Practically done with difficult part, which in my case was taming the monster, or simply my hair. Securing the braid, I brace myself for the events that would occur.

          Quietly leaving my room, I walk to my father's room, poking my head inside right after making the door slightly ajar, I gulp at how eerily the atmosphere the room bestowed upon it's inquisitors.

          Shutting the door closed, I examine at the untouched room for, no one knows how long it has been. Eight years? Maybe even more.

          Reminds me of a certain someone, a white headed, competitive, immature, but at the same time, caring guardian who I once met.

          But, as people say, you shouldn't dwell in the past. Well, who am I to say those words?

          Exactly my point.

          My eyes manage to widen at the two, silver, and glistening objects my father had also held onto for the sake of the protection of his kingdom. I visibly gulp at the mere thought, hesitantly trotting to the worn out side table.

          Glancing to the wall, was a painting of my father, the man who loved his people, a simple nobleman who swore his loyalty. In return, he was respected, looked up at, and I admire all of it. Up until now, I still wear the gloves my father gave, and it still helped me conceal most of the time.

          I tighten my hands into fists, my eyes trail back to the two objects that reflected my own image, scared, unstable, anything that would label me as as close to a monster; a witch.

          "Don't let them in, don't let them see." I heard my inner ego pleading, begging, desperately trying to change my decision, but it can't be helped.