Eighteen Months Ago

The Festival of Lights, Corona Palace

"Are you in love with her?" Her lips trembled as she struggled to get the words out. She was drenched from head to toe, a puddle of water already forming on the stone floors where she stood.

Augustus tried to answer her. He wanted to assuage her fears with a lie, and tell her exactly what her panicked eyes hoped he would say. But when he tried to speak, the single word got caught in his throat. And in that moment he knew that she knew. His silence had been as good as affirmation.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he whispered hoarsely.

Wet and shivering as she was, he could tell that she was crying. Mascara streaked down her pallid cheeks, and a small tremulous sob escaped her, resounding painfully off the walls of the enclosing buildings.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. There were no other words he could say. Not unless he wished to give her false hope.

She was crying openly now, her brows twisted with heartbreak, her eyes gleaming as tears spilled endlessly. A half a dozen pairs of eyes had already turned their way, and Augustus remembered that they were standing in the middle of the plaza for the whole world to see. Glancing up at the higher rising buildings, he noticed more curious eyes looking their way from up above.

"Come on, let's go back to the castle and get you dry," Augustus said as he took hold of Felicity by her slender elbow, tugging gently. But her eyes went wild, and she suddenly pulled away.

"No!" She practically screamed. The sound of her voice echoed loudly, and a startled flock of pigeons took to flight. "No."

"Everyone's watching," he whispered loud enough for her alone to hear. "Don't do this."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" She bitterly replied, startling him.

"I don't want you to say or do anything you might regret." He had such a morose and pitiful look on his face. Felicity could see that he truly felt for her. And it made her heartbreak sting that much more.

"What about you, James? What is it that you regret most?" She almost didn't want to know the answer, but she had to ask. "Is it me?"

"Never," he answered, the look of pity never leaving him. "You're very dear to me."

"But not as dear as she is to you,right? You don't love me the way you love her."

She wanted him to refute her words. As pointless as it was to cling to that shred of hope, that he might change his mind and choose her instead, Felicity held on, even if was just to grasp a glimmer of doubt or hesitation in his eyes. But it never came.

"No," he answered in resignation, clenching his jaw as his gaze dropped to the paved stone beneath them. "I don't."

"But maybe, someday, you cou—"

"I'm sorry, but no," was his definitive response as he unflinchingly looked into her eyes. He owed her as much. "The kind of love that you want from me…It would have happened by now. And although I do love you, truly, genuinely love you, my love for you is the love a brother bears for his little sister. I can't be anything more than that to you."

Augustus cupped his hands over her cheeks and wiped away her tears. He knew from the defeated look in her eyes, that he had likely crushed any hope she might have had for something more between them. Sometimes, the cruelty of truth was the only way to put an end to things. And that day marked the beginning of the end. Of so many things.

I really am a bastard.

~X~

The Present

She wanted to hate him. Every time Augustus turned to meet the Queen's gaze, a soft involuntary smile glistened in his eyes. He was like a smitten school boy, bursting with eager zeal, and not at all conscientious of the ranks and titles that constrained him. And yet, that was probably what irked Felicity the most. Even with a prince latched onto her arm, sharply dressed in his royal imperial garments, and oozing charm with dignified repose, her heart was decidedly empty of feelings for him.

But not for Augustus. There was rage, there was bitterness, and a festering misery that had burrowed its way into the deepest parts of herself. And there was also heartache.

I hate you, she longed to say even as he looked her way with his broad charismatic smile. More than anything, she wanted to believe that.

"Love is for fools, child," Her mother had drilled over and over into her head. "Marriage isn't about love. It's about power. Strategy. Marry for love and you've rendered yourself weak. And the Dragons of Crestmark are anything but."

I don't want to be weak.

And yet, with one glance Felicity's heart wavered. Everytime Augustus spoke, his voice was like a magnetic draw, pulling at invisible strings that she'd never been able to sever.

"I must say, I'm surprised that there hasn't been a betrothal announcement for the two of you yet," Felicity interjected in the middle of Augustus' animated rendition of his recent nautical expedition. The Queen's shoulders stiffened and a smile froze on her face. Augustus looked away in embarrassment, nervously combing his fingers through his hair.

"People have better things to do than dwell on idle gossip," Augustus answered. "Speculation about my personal life is hardly interesting to anyone."

At that, the prince of the Southern Isles raised a dubious brow.

"Not to sound terribly self-important, but it's pretty safe to say that any tidbit of news relating to any one of us can easily headline newspapers and explode on the gossip scene," the prince remarked. "Especially if those rumors have to do with certain connections to other royals," he went on, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Elsa.

"There was a peculiar one about Your Grace's sister," Felicity remarked offhandedly, unintentionally touching upon the last thing Elsa wanted brought up in conversation.

Elsa eyed Lady Malachi carefully before making her own cautious reply. "Considering Anna's neurotic ways, it's only appropriate that she would arm gossipers with so much ammunition. It wouldn't surprise me if most of those rumors had some basis in truth." She laughed stiffly, encouraging laughter from the others.

"We deny nothing," Augustus joked. "I'll say 'No comment' to all, and pour out the good wine to change the subject."

"Unless of course, those Virgin Queen rumors have some truth to them as well," Felicity said flippantly as she grabbed a glass of wine from an approaching waiter, and took a long sip. "You'd probably have to bring out a barrage of suitors to make those disappear." She was dimly aware of the color that drained from Elsa's face, and the startled look that flickered in Augustus's eyes. Her own fiancé was at a loss for words and chose to ignore the awkward silence that had befallen them with a second serving of champagne.

"Have any of you seen Anna?" A breathless Kristoff asked, breaking the silence as he appeared beside Augustus, a bleary-eyed Elsie yawning in his arms. There was a nervous cadence in his voice that he was unable to mask, but if anyone noticed, he couldn't see it on their faces.

"Not...not since she ran off earlier," Elsa replied evenly, but something in the way she said it, the muted strain in her voice and the stony look in her eyes, made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Ran off?" Augustus parroted. "What'd she run off for?"

"She just forgot something," Kristoff answered distantly, never taking his eyes off Elsa.

"Probably off starting another round of rumors," Felicity remarked facetiously with a dismissive wave of her hand, and while it elicited an uneasy wave of laughter, Augustus remained unmoved.

"We can't all be mice cowering in a corner," he remarked tersely, locking eyes with Felicity. The smug confidence on her face faltered, and she looked away.

"You quote my mother so well," she said after a pause, but the mirth in her words were as fake as the tight smile on her face.

The prince of the Southern Isles looked back and forth between them, confused by the Marquise's hard prolonged stare.

"Am I missing something?" The prince wondered out loud.

And Kristoff wondered the same thing as Elsa pressed a thumb over her bottom lip, a sickening feeling briefly clenching his stomach as something unintelligible flickered in and out of his thoughts.

"Just some friendly banter," Felicity replied, sipping the last of her wine. She set her empty glass in her fiance's hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

"The friendliest," Augustus quipped, but the look on his face was difficult to read.

"Well I think I've had a bit too much to drink," Felicity said as she pressed a hand against her chest, before excusing herself from the group in favor of some fresh air. Her prince took a step forward, ready to accompany her, but she stopped him, pressing a hand on his arm. "I'm not feeling myself right now. I promise I won't be long."

She didn't have to look back to know that Augustus and Elsa were relieved to see her go. It was evident by the tension that had evaporated from their faces as she'd turned to leave them. Left with no audience to take in her performance, Felicity discarded the suffocating haughty armor and was herself once more. A girl that could never be the dragon her mother wished for, nor the woman Augustus desired.

You're just a mouse; cowering in a corner, waiting for the cat to tear you to bits.

~X~

Breathe deep.

Fifteen minutes of searching, and Anna still hadn't found the bracelet. She knew it had struck the oversized statue, but it could have bounced off anywhere, and it didn't help that she was completely distracted.

Exhale.

Anna counted backwards from ten, her thoughts briefly emptied by the white noise of the water pouring down the stone water fountain on the north end of the garden. When she ended her count she started from ten again, reciting each number with long intervals, timed by the duration of each intake of breath. This time, when her count came to an end, the nauseating nerves in the pit of her stomach had transformed into a subdued anger.

"I have every right to be angry!" She shouted defensively up at the bronze statue. "She freakin' bit me!"

It still hurt. The cut on her lip was concealed under a layer of red lipstick, as bright as the anger brewing on her face. But as angry as she wanted to be at Elsa, Anna was mostly angry at herself. "Just like two ships passing each other in the dark," she muttered bitterly to herself. That's what we are.

A familiar sting settled in her eyes urging the onset of tears, but she grit her teeth and resolved not to cry. Not tonight. Not now.

Anna could not afford to give into another moment of weakness. She had already humiliated herself with her unwanted confession in the walk-in closet, and didn't care to draw further attention to herself with whispers of swollen red eyes and smudged makeup. In a little more than a day she would be secluded away at her uncle's estate with Kristoff and Elsie, and she would have a hundred rooms she could disappear to. A hundred rooms to hide in, away from Kristoff and any prying eyes; where she could wallow in misery to her heart's content.

She sucked in another shaky breath before slowly exhaling.

"Self control. Don't fall apart just yet." There was desperation in those words, and it surprised Anna to realize that as much as they mirrored her own feelings at that very moment, she was not the one to make that utterance.

It was Felicity Malachi who had spoken, her voice trembling as she cut across the garden, distress painted all over her face. She moved taking brisk and nervous strides, but with enough self awareness to pull up the hem of her long dress as she treaded over the damp grass.

There was something pitiable in the anguished eyes of Felicity Malachi, but more than that, Anna saw someone that shared the same ache that she did. And for once, it occurred to her that perhaps they were not so different.

Felicity slowed to a stop as she approached the statue near the center of the garden, resting her shaking hands against the soft bronze. Anna considered calling out to her, but shrunk away into the shadows when she heard a second set of footsteps trespass into the gardens.

"What was that all about back there?" Augustus demanded as he came up behind Felicity. There was no mistaking the anger in his voice.

Felicity's shoulders stiffened and she slowly dropped her hands to her sides. Anna guiltily tore her gaze away and slumped to the ground, pressing her back against a wide stone pillar, hoping her intrusion would not be discovered.

"It was a joke," Felicity answered meekly, and Anna cringed from where she sat.

"Like hell, it was!" Augustus snapped back.

"Yes! Yes, it was! Except the joke was me!" Felicity whipped around, taking a step forward as she raised her voice, her face twisted up with anger. Augustus took a startled step back, too stunned to offer a response.

"You have nothing to say about that?" Felicity pressed on. "Is the great Lord Hawkins finally at a loss for words?" In spite of the sarcasm dripping from her words, she could not conceal the sadness that spilled out of her, from her voice and down to the smallest flicker of her eyelashes. Augustus knew her too well not to take notice.

"Felicity, are you still—?"

"No!" She recoiled. "I—I'm not."

I'm not in love with you.

But her protest had been nothing more than affirmation for Augustus, and his anger gave way to compassion. Felicity could see the shift in his eyes, the kindness that was all too familiar, and inevitably painful.

"Still? All this time?"

"It's pathetic, isn't it?" She laughed bitterly, resigned to her own transparency. "If my mother could see me now."

"Don't say that."

"Why? It wouldn't make it any less true. Want to hear something even more pathetic?" Felicity paused, long enough to feel the nervous tremors inside her chest ride up and down her spine before daring to say the words she knew she shouldn't.

"I would take you back, if you would have me."

"Felicity—"

"I would."

Augustus reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. A familiar look passed over his eyes, and Felicity felt cold and sick. She knew what was coming. It was as plain as the pity and remorse that lingered on his face.

"Nothing has changed," he replied, releasing her hand. "I love someone else."

And there was her answer.

"Are you going to marry her?" she pried, all the while wondering why she felt compelled to pick at scabs that had not fully healed after nearly two years.

"It's complicated," he answered, hesitant to say more, but Felicity could still not let it die there, even as she began to regret where she was steering the conversation.

"Does she even love you?"

"I don't know." Augustus could have been lying to spare her, Felicity could see the truth of his words in his eyes. And she hated him for it.

"She might not choose you," she insisted, her desperation bleeding through every syllable.

"It doesn't matter."

It didn't matter. Felicity had grown up chasing his coattails, finding comfort in his embrace, in the calloused fingers that tenderly brushed away her tears, the soft spoken voice that eased her nightmares and the sting of her mother's reproach, yet she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever mattered to him at all.

"When does it matter? My love doesn't matter, and maybe hers doesn't either. But you still choose to push your way where you might not be wanted? Why is that? When you could just choose me—"

"Because you don't choose who you love!"

A pregnant silence fell over them, filling all the empty spaces between them. And his words rippled in her heart, echoing a thousand times over. But it didn't end there, he needed to kill it once and for all; hammer the final nail in the coffin.

"It could've been just the two of us for a hundred years," he told her in a slow and deliberate way, as patience finally left him. "And I still would never have loved you."

There was no pity or kindness this time, no uneasy guilt, or apologetic looks. He was simply gone.

Felicity didn't move. She stared vacantly at a cluster of bright pink tulips, inattentive to the silvery gleam of Anna's discarded bracelet as it refracted bits of light on her face. Then slowly, she slumped down onto the grass, and tried to remember to breathe.

Sensing a change, Anna quietly rose to her feet, feeling quite stunned as she tried to process what she'd just overheard. She kept hidden behind the pillar, noting how much like a glass figurine Lady Malachi appeared to be. Something in Felicity's frazzled eyes tempted Anna to call out to her; eyes that haunted her like shining shimmering shards in a pool of glittering tears.

He's going to ask her, Anna realized, staring off into the direction that Augustus had disappeared to. If he hasn't asked her yet, I'm sure he will soon. Anna couldn't dismiss the intimate letters he'd sent Elsa, or how she'd spent nights wide awake staring up at the ceiling wondering what what sort of replies Elsa had written him in return.

'I'm still waiting for your answer,' his letter had read, offering no more than horrifying speculation to what the question might have been. Anna heard Felicity's questions to Augustus replay in her head. His answer had been like a dagger in the heart. 'It's complicated' had not been a yes, but it was hardly a no.

He loves her and maybe she feels that same for him. Anna dug her fingernails into the pillar, ignoring the throbbing in her fingers, until there was nothing but numbness.

Felicity had yet to make a sound and her face remained frozen in a vacant stare, but tears now spilled freely over her cheeks. It would have been so easy for Anna to say her name and give her some words of comfort. Just a few syllables.

Anna wanted to. But she didn't. Her stomach twisted and lurched, riding the monster that fueled all the envy and rage that coursed through her veins. The same monster that had seized her heart the moment she had stumbled upon those letters. Those damned letters.

Like Augustus before her, Anna wordlessly walked away, and Felicity was left to her tears; pain curling into anger, shaping into a hot embittered flame. And the discarded bracelet was forgotten.

A/N: My busy life and chaotic schedule have kept me from updating frequently. Next chapter will be longer and recenter focus on Elsa and Anna.