White Queen

Learn to Trust

I don't know why it was so difficult for me to write this chapter, but it did and that's why it takes me a long time to update.

"Don't let go."

Such unnecessary warning for him to make, considering on who he was talking to, for there was no chance that her fingers would have unwrap around the leather reins she had in her grasp, not when she could feel her nails through the gloves she was wearing, pressing tight against her palms. Her heart raced as she held her chin up, not daring to look down toward him, should it to avoid him seeing how afraid she was or the ground below her that her feet were itching to return to.

She was overreacting, she knew she was, for it was not the first time that she had ridden Sitron all by herself. Come to think of it, this was the very same place in which she had mounted the stallion as Hans stayed by her side, leading his beloved horse through the path as they talked.

The difference being that he was not holding onto the reins.

His hand came to rest against her thigh, running over the fabric of her riding pants while the other rest against the horse's neck, patting it gently as Sitron stood patiently with the terrified Queen on his back. "Relax, Elsa, he wouldn't run."

The thought of her, helpless as the stallion took off in high speed should there was something that spooked him –her powers unleashing may be one of the reasons, had done nothing but to twist the knot in her stomach even tighter as she was sure her knuckles had turned white by now. "Wrong words, Hans." Her voice came from gritted teeth as she dared herself to advert her eyes a little downward to glare at her husband.

"He will keep you safe, we both will." The Prince corrected as well as adding a small reassurance at her. "Just do what I have told you."

With a nod of his head at the horse's direction, Sitron nudged forward just as his owner took a couple steps back, and her hips bucked at the jolt of movement, hands curling impossibly tighter against the reins, yet Sitron had remained calm as he trotted, seemingly understanding that she was in no way asking him to go anywhere faster, rounding his way around the small clearing in the woods as Hans watched by.

"Maintain your posture, Elsa." Her Father had reminded, back when she had first ridden the pony that was gifted for her for her sixth birthday, and she had been utterly excited when he had finally given her a chance to try. "A Queen must always hold herself high."

The pony had been white, pure and reminded her of snow, of her power, of the feeling of happiness that always filled her heart when she and Anna would spend hours playing with her magic, of the gentle falling snowflakes in winter against her skin.

And they did not melt.

She was beyond excited then, when she was young, to even notice how nervous the horse had been when she had come near, how tense it was as she rode it around the courtyard. They said that animals could sense the presence of magic, of the dangers it pose toward them, of the strange aura that she must have behold upon herself and presented to her birthday gift.

Her father had warned her not to get far, to keep herself in his reach should something was to happen, but she was curious, she wished to feel what people felt when she saw they raced through the forest, between the towering trees, to feel her heart race along with the gallop of her horse.

The hard ground welcomed her when she had slipped off the frightened pony after her heels had dug into it's side to urge it forward, ice shooting from her fingertips and spread around her on the stone flooring. Her father had ran for her then, just as the pony had fled after such display of magic, cradling her close as she came close to tears from the pain she had felt on the side of her body. Yet her heart wrecked more when her pony did not wish to come close to her ever again.

"Perhaps horse-riding does not suit you."

Straightening her back as she held onto the reins, she had let out a breath as her hands tugged on the leather, leading the stallion back toward the auburn haired Prince that had kept his eyes closely on her the whole time she had round the clearing.

"Finished already?" Hans had questioned as he placed a hand over his horse's neck, patting gently as his head tilted up to see his wife, raising a brow as he did so. "You were doing great."

Eyes darting toward the horizon, watching as the orange-tinted sky, blue irises flickered back toward the greens. "It's getting dark soon," she told him, "We shouldn't be wondering in the forest at night, yes?" There was no denying that no matter how hard she had tried to push all of the memories she had as a child, those that brought her nothing but heartache, they always find a way to creep back from the back of her mind, raising into her full attention and dampening the moment that she was in.

He must have noticed her reluctance to continue with her lessons in the reasoning that came through her lips, for he had nodded as he raised both of his hands to help her off instead of trying to convince her to ride for another round or two, an offer she greatly appreciated as she made a move to unmounts the stallion.

The three of them fell into a quiet walk as they made their way back to the summerhouse, with Hans' hand holding onto Sitron's reins while his other arm had wrapped around her waist, drinking in the peaceful atmosphere that Ánslo offered up to them, how the summer breeze blew against their faces and trickled their skin as the sun had begun to set in the horizon, the sky turning into the rich colors of dark blue and many shades of orange to yellow.

"I want to go home," her whisper in the air broke the silence that had befallen her and her husband, for no matter how beautiful the scene that was given to her, there was nothing that could hold her from missing her own kingdom, the comfort that it could blanketed her with. Hans had turned his head to look at her then, one eyebrow raised as he waited for her continue, to give him the proper reason for her sudden cut of their trip. "I have to be there for Anna's birthday."

"We still have a week here, Elsa."

Her lips pursed at his indirect decline to return to Arendelle, of his desire to stay longer, away from their respective responsibilities that they really should not ignore. "It takes weeks to plan and work on though."

The arm wrapping around her waist tightened it's hold as her husband stopped at his track, pulling her with him in the process, his green eyes bore into hers as his brows furrowed. "You are not repeating last year." There was a warning tone in his voice as he looked at her, and the seriousness in it had made her rose her own eyebrow.

"I'm not planning to." A little lie, considering that she naturally wished to give Anna the birthday she deserved after so many years celebrating without her, but she also could not deny the fact that she had fallen ill –sneezing uncontrollably as she caught herself a little cold, due to her overworking herself was something that she would wish to avoid this year. "Hans, please."

He was silent, if only for a moment, before his head nodded in agreement. Perhaps he was considering how deeply she loved her younger sister, how much she had blamed herself for the years of isolation that Anna was too involved in despite her not knowing what truly transpired, and that not celebrating the Princess' birthday the way she knew the strawberry blonde haired sister would deserve would make her extremely upset about it was the reason on why he had agreed in the end.

"Only if you would let me tell you to take a break."

Blue eyes rolled at his added request then, as it was such a silly thing for him to say, before she had tugged him to continue on with their walk. "I'm starting to doubt which one of us is the reigning monarch, Hans."

"I don't say that as if I was someone above you, Elsa dear; I say that as a husband who worries over his wife."

Also, as you may have noticed, there's no Olaf in this story, and neither does the snowgies and Marshmallow, but it can change, who knows.