It was shouts up on deck that had awoken the Queen. The rocking of the ship had been especially rough that evening, leaving her to retire to try and sleep through it. But now she was growing more and more concerned, especially when her eyes fluttered open to find her husband gone. His side of the bed was quickly cooling, empty. 

   His time in the navy was known by all, and she wondered if he had simply gone on up for a peaceful purpose–or to help. Eyes full of worry, she threw on some clothes, and tried to make her way up the steep steps, hand gripping the rope handrail tightly. So tightly that her knuckles turned white, and a few cries left her as she nearly slipped. 

   Rain lashed down upon her before she even made it out, the wind whipping her hair this way, and that, throwing her thin frame around as the men tried to avoid her. It was easy enough to find Agdar, even with his bright hair darkened by the water. Waves crashed against the hull as she grabbed his hand. It was freezing. 

   That had been half an hour ago. Now they were huddled together, the mast already gone down to the depths below. A tremble had entered her from the cold and the wet (and the fear, but she’d never admit it), but still she clung on to him. Because there was nothing else to be done. Hope was quickly dwindling, and his words just brought out a choked sob as she hid her face in his chest. At least–at least they had each other.

   "We’re never going to see them again, are we?“ Idun asked, her voice almost stolen by the power of the weather outside. Her children, her precious children, she’d never see them again. Never give Elsa that one last hug. Never braid Anna’s hair again, or sew with her.