Author's Note:
Here it is, the first part of the final fic.
Content Warning: Contains descriptions of sexual acts, including BDSM, between three consenting adults. There is also swearing and violence. You have been warned. Contains Elsanna, Elsacest, OT3's, Kristanna and Hanna (say wha-).
Meeting My Reflection: Mo' Reflections, Mo' Time
"Let us begin."
"No," Kristoff whined under his breath.
"First, I wish to thank her Royal Majesty." At this Elsa slightly inclined her head. The ambassador continued. "Her aid in thawing enough of the fjord to allow boats to pass through was most appreciated, both in my own lands and in Arendelle itself. Were it not for her intervention, we might have suffered severe shortages of dried fish and heavy metals, so precious to our communities. Though recent…differences of opinions have caused some degree of strain between us, I assure you, my Queen, that Weselton will extend to you every olive branch out our disposal, every offer of peace and partnership, and every favor of ours that you could ask."
"Please kill me," Kristoff whispered out of the side of his mouth. Elsa smiled serenely at the ambassador.
"Secondly, I wish to thank the gentlemen surrounding me, for…" Why was the man still talking? 'Thanks' was all he needed to say! How did he manage to pull one word apart into a goddamn speech? He stared in horror as the little man, whose facial hair had more personality than he did, began to list a third reason why he was so stinking thankful. He watched the lips flap up and down, eyes widening when he heard "fourthly" being spoken from far, far away.
Kristoff made a noise that sounded like steam coming out of a broken teapot. Still smiling, Elsa poked him in the thigh under the table. He straightened in his chair at her right, trying not to appear sullen and failing miserably. His fancy clothes itched something awful. He readjusted his collar as the ambassador began to wax nostalgic about his younger years, or something equally inane, and Elsa shot him a look. He leaned over.
"How do you stand this? I can't even remember who half these people are, let alone care," he hissed. She regarded the room coolly, taking in each man's face in turn before deigning to respond, her voice low.
"I have new oil paintings commissioned of each of them every year."
"How does that help?"
"My aim has improved considerably."
"…and, last but not least, I come to the matter at hand."
"Good man!" Kristoff cried, pumping his hand in the air. The councilmen stared at him, and he slowly lowered his fist.
Elsa smoothed a hand over her mouth. Her voice was only somewhat amused when she spoke. "Please forgive his Highness, he has been so eager to attend one of these meetings and see how the kingdom is run. I understand you have questions regarding the fjord…?"
"Yes, quite! You see, your Majesty, whereas it was immensely useful to have parts of the fjord thawed, we at Weselton believe it would be in your best interests to expand this further. If your power is sufficient to thaw fjords now, then surely your control would extend to refreezing them." As one, the council flinched.
To her credit, Elsa did not. Her eyes narrowed. "And I would wish to do that because…?"
"Because it would be an enormous economic boon. Just imagine the possibilities! If you were to place strategic ice blockades over certain ports during peak trading times, you could force better prices or even completely eliminate them; in this way, Arendelle could dominate and establish monopolies with ease."
"At the risk of angering numerous countries with particularly powerful armies, you mean."
"Ah, and that would be where Weselton comes in. You see, I have been given the power by the king to send warships to those ports that you would freeze. I believe their considerable power would be enough to persuade the commanders to give in to your demands. Our navy is quite the pride of Weselton, and the world."
Yes, that navy. The one that had changed Elsa's mind about outright forbidding contact with Weselton, despite the charges levied against the Duke and his men; despite the fact that Elsa's life had been at risk due to his miserly, murderous attitude, angering a nation that was such a prominent naval power was a disastrous move, and Elsa had begrudgingly allowed for apologetic letters to be sent, persuading the court that it was a misunderstanding on her part. 'Misunderstanding'. Oh sure. As if her sudden anger was a bolt from the blue.
The nobles were bickering, some louder than others, offering their numerous opinions on both the efficacy and morality of such a move. Though she was pleased to see some shaking their heads fiercely and speaking out against the idea, more than a few who were not engaged in their own conversations looked thoughtful, even pleased.
Her lips drew into a thin line. Beside her, Kristoff cringed.
She could see it in her mind's eye: first it was a simple request, one that had the ring of practicality to it, adulterated by greed, and then the demands would begin. Greater feats of magic, of strength, of power, until the shaky, tentative acceptance of her rule, of her person, by her people was obliterated, and only awe and terror remained. What kind of ruler would she be, to sit upon an iron throne and wield her scepter like a weapon as she brought her power to bear upon mere innocents?
Queen Elsa stood, her chair slipping back against the rug silently. The chattering slowly came to a halt as she walked up to the large windows overlooking the courtyard. Her face was impassive as she watched the snowflakes drift on a gentle breeze.
"And what would you be offering in return?" Several of the councilmen gasped outright, Kristoff being one of them.
"Why, exclusive trading rights to Weselton, access to our-"
Her laughter cut him off. "Do you really mean to tell me that that's it? That's your offer?"
He blustered out a reply about hardly finishing it before she could reject it, and she silenced him with a wave of her hand. The laughter was gone from her eyes: in its place was steel.
"I once hid from and feared my power. I believed it a curse, a stain upon myself, my family, my heritage. Now I recognize it for what it is, a part of me, as integral to my own nature as my hands are to my body."
She drew a finger down the glass, and ice crystals crackled into being in a long trail. Several men swallowed and began to sweat, watching the ice grow with nervous eyes.
"You ask me to draw upon power that can and has caused massive ruin, that has built and sustained sentient life, that almost brought my own kingdom to its knees, and your offer is mere goods and services? At the risk of speaking blasphemy," and here she paused, watching the ice as it began to twist and flex, light flaring along its length, as though alive. She pinned the ambassador to his chair with a hard gaze. "I wield godlike power, and I have no interest in any trade that would not offer me the same."
No one spoke. No one even breathed.
"And as, to the extent of my knowledge, Weselton is not the seat of any…divinity, I believe this matter is closed."
The smile returned to her eyes as the ambassador, quaking slightly, nodded silently. He stood and bowed, his movements stiff, and then left. She watched him leave, eyes following his every move, smirking a little when the door shut behind him. She returned to her seat, sinking down into the plush cushions as Kristoff shifted nervously in his chair. Her eyes were gleaming in a way that made him more than just a little uncomfortable.
"Now, as for the next order of busin-" The doors burst open.
"Elsa! I'm here for the mee-" Anna froze, both hands still pressed against both doors, eyes whipping around the room. "Meeting! The other meeting, not this one, the later one. Later meeting. I am definitely early. For a meeting."
"Ah, my dear sister." Elsa's smile became genuine, her eyes softening. "You're just in time for tea. If you could call for-"
"Oooh I could help with that!"
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure that-"
"No no, let me get it! It's the least I could do for being la-while I'm waiting for the next meeting."
Elsa's gaze took in Anna's appearance, moving slowly over her disheveled hair, flushed neck and shoulders, heaving chest, the rip in her side, the mud on her shoes, and Anna's eyes widened. She'd once read a book about poisonous snakes, and on one page the author had included an illustration of a serpent lying in wait. Elsa was the spitting image of it, and for once Anna was very glad that everyone was looking her way; things might've been awkward if they hadn't.
"Well then, by all means," Elsa purred, and Anna quickly crossed her arms over her chest and headed towards the side door which led into a small kitchen.
"Hey, uh, honey," Kristoff said as she passed. "Do you want any help?" Elsa laid a hand on his arm, and he wilted, an impressive feat for such a large man. She patted him briefly before nodding at her sister and returning her hands to her lap.
"You'll want to be here for this, it requires your attention." He frowned, sitting up in his chair.
Anna slipped through the doors as Elsa addressed her council.
"Spoons, spoons, spoons…where are the spoons? And why so many stupid forks?"
She made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat as she pulled open another drawer, finding little pre-folded napkins in tiny squares instead of the utensils she was looking for. Unbelievable. She was just about to throw in the towel (oh sure, those were everywhere) and call for help when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Oh good, I was hoping someone would…" She looked around, confused. The tiny kitchen was devoid of anyone but her.
There was another tap at her shoulder. She jerked her head, but again, no one was there.
Her eyes narrowed. Elsa. Very naughty of her, to play the "made you look" game when Anna was trying to do something nice. Kind of impressive too, though: Elsa had graduated far beyond needing to see what she was doing while crafting. Janice loved to test Elsa's control, and had once devised a game where she would put a series of objects inside of an ice box and have Elsa determine where they were without looking, just by manipulating quick flashes of ice crystals and wind into questing "fingers" that allowed her to discover the location of things, based on sound and the pressure exerted by the object against the wind and ice. She had figured it was only a matter of time before Elsa was going to use it in play; now that she had much greater control of her powers, she delighted in using them, especially since it made Anna so happy to see her pleased with herself.
Another touch, this time on the dip on her collarbone. Oh please, what was the point of that? She could easily see that she was alone, why try to get her to point in some-
A flare of sensation up her inner thigh. She gasped. It was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving her paranoid.
She slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the room beyond. A man stood by an easel, describing some sort of law or other, probably, the council members pointed in his direction. Kristoff was still slumped over in his seat, looking dangerously close to twiddling his thumbs, and Elsa was the picture of innocence at the head of the table, her back to the door.
A light touch turned her head towards the windows. Elsa's reflection watched her from there. Her calm expression didn't waver an iota when she met Anna's suspicious gaze. Her eyes widened as she felt fingers dance along her ribs and then smooth over a breast, alternating between cold and hot so quickly she wasn't sure whether to shiver or sweat.
Elsa winked.
Anna ducked her head back inside the room, smoothing trembling hands down her front. Okay, different game, then. Not that she couldn't handle it. She and Elsa had been "playing" for a long time now, anyways.
Ghostly fingers caressed her calf, sending little shivers up her leg and-no, actual shivers. She hurriedly pulled her skirts up to confirm that what she felt was real: the icy touch had grown, coating her leg with Elsa's warm ice, but shafts of cold shot down it rhythmically, her heartbeat spiking with every pulse. Her breath whistled through her clenched teeth as the ice scaled her body, slipping from one leg to the other, because apparently Elsa felt like being an enormous tease and as soon as she got her alone oh...oh...
She sank down against the cabinets with a groan, spreading her legs. The action should've released some of the heat building between them, but Elsa's ice raced over her upper body so quickly that Anna felt an answering rush of blood that made her skin burn. Over her stomach, right between her breasts, splitting and outlining her collarbones in throbs of heat and cold, across her upper arms and down her forearms, flaring over her palms and fingers, pooling on her fingertips. She lifted one hand to her face, breathless, examining the alteration: her index and middle finger had been surrounded totally by warm/cool ice, merging them together.
So maybe not so much a tease as an…invitation to play. Anna grinned. She did like her plays.
Sucking her lip between her teeth, she leaned back and began.
Kristoff stared at his companion. Elsa was perfectly attentive, one hand shuffling through a series of papers as someone droned on about organizing a festival – something about the last one being a dismal failure – but her other hand remained beneath the table, making strange gestures. The tips of her fingers were glowing softly.
"Ohhhhhh fuck yes," she whispered, pushing her fingers deeper. Her hips jerked wildly with every temperature shift, to the point where she hadn't dared to touch her clitoris; the sensation would be far too much, and she wanted this to last.
A spear of cold shot through her core, making her ache with want. Fractals of ice pulsed against her breasts, nimbly avoiding her nipples, just enough to make her press hard against the cabinets at her back for leverage as she rode her hand, shuddering through the pleasure.
She clapped a hand to her mouth as the ice within her suddenly grew, almost to painful proportions. Her eyes rolled back when she thrust her fingers inside again and again, one hand inching hesitantly toward her clitoris. Maybe just a touch…
"…does the princess need a hand? She's been in there for some time."
"I believe she has more than enough hands to do the job properly, though if you would like to help, perhaps you could ask her…?"
"Princess Anna?" the man called, knocking lightly. The answer was immediate.
"I'M COMING!" Anna's voice shot through the room at full volume, rising in pitch until the final note seemed to ring on and on.
All talk halted, the men stunned. Elsa pulled her hand out from under the table and folded her hands together calmly.
"You'll have to excuse my sister; she tends to be quite vocal about her love of tea." The men eyed her strangely, but none dared to comment.
"Wow," Kristoff breathed. He leaned over to Elsa, saying, "I'll have whatever she's having."
She looked at him, her head tilted to the side, holding his gaze for a long moment. Her lips twitched, and then curled up at the corners. He grinned right back.
"You know, Mr. Bjorgman," she said slowly, around a growing smile, "you're all right." He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah."
"…which is why I only feel slightly bad about demoting you."
"Wait, what?"
One of the council members cleared his throat. "Ah, your Highness, for the past few weeks her Royal Majesty has taken to arguing – fiercely, I might add! – in favor of you relinquishing the duties as Prince of Arendelle that you have…neglected to uphold. This council has requested your presence today to address thi-"
"I am totally for it!" he gasped. The man gave him a disgusted look, but he was beyond caring what some stuffy noble thought about him. "No really, this is great. I mean, uh, I'm okay with it. I'd so much rather be spending the time anywhere else, or with Anna. I mean my wife. Not that I want to make your job any more difficult, Els-your Majesty, but-"
"Trust me, Mr. Bjorgman-" he'd never noticed before how that could be said so affectionately – "any time with my sister is well spent."
As if on cue, an extremely disheveled Anna thrust a rolling tray through the kitchen doors. "Sorry about how long it took!"
"Spending too much time with your fingers in the honeypot?" Anna jerked upright, about to babble out an emphatic "no, good Lord, Elsa why would you say that in public" when she remembered: honey goes into tea. The question was totally innocent. Unlike her sister, who was leering at her, chin perched upon her folded hands. Suddenly she didn't feel so bad about this.
"Ahahaha, well, no, just took a long time to find the…sugar. Right. Anyways," she said cheerily, walking around the table and setting plates, then napkins, and finally the teacups down in front of the group, each man giving a seated half-bow, half-nod, then placing milk and sugar in the middle of the table. She served her sister last, and Elsa murmured her thanks, noting with pleasure Anna had already made her tea just the way she liked it: milky, with just a hint of sweetness. Kristoff lifted the fork from his teacup in confusion.
She picked up the cup and inhaled, humming as the scent curled around her. She frowned as a familiar, yet currently unnamed smell hit her nose. What was that? Pungent, powerful, yet delicious, warm, and…coming from the bottom of the teacup. She glanced down at her plate and napkin. Her triangular napkin. With a damp patch in the middle. Her eyes bulged. That wasn't a napkin.
Anna's skirts swished as she fairly skipped to the other side of the room, twirling around before seating herself on the far table, her legs swinging over the side playfully. She gave her horrified sister a big, lusty wink.
Oh God, where could she put them? Surely someone else would smell it, or worse, see it! Any second now someone was going to look up, but she had no pockets, no bag with her, and what could she use to keep them from scenting her sister's-
"Before we move on…"
Elsa panicked.
Kristoff gaped as she hurriedly pulled the front of her dress out and deposited the garment directly between her breasts. The ice of her bodice would halt the smell. She had nowhere else to put it, anyways. It made sense. She repeated the sentence over and over again in her head, barely paying attention to the rest of the meeting, nodding only when people looked at her and staying silent the rest of the time. She really hoped she hadn't just sanctioned any new laws, unable to do much else besides watch the way her sister wiggled in her seat, bouncing her legs, that damnable grin still stretched across her face, her breasts wet with sweat and…something else.
"If there are no more questions-"
Elsa stood quickly. "No more questions, I believe, and with that we will adjourn for today." Let them grumble at her rudeness: she was the queen, and her needs came first.
The group trailed out chattering softly, and Kristoff hesitated at the door, waiting for them to go. He rubbed the back of his neck, gnawing at his lip, as Elsa regarded him curiously. He cleared his throat.
"Listen, I…I know we haven't had much to talk about, or much interaction, at all, but…I'd like to say thank you. If not for you and Anna, I wouldn't know whether or not I would have a roof over my head at night, and now I've got that and still have my freedom. That…that means a lot to me. So thank you." He swallowed. That was the longest speech he'd ever given. Kinda took a lot out of a man. There was a rare glow in her eyes that was normally reserved for her sister.
"And thank you as well, Kristoff, for being so understanding. For everything." They shared a smile, a queen and a peasant, yet somehow still equal.
He held the door open for her. "Ladies first…?" She shook her head, already chuckling.
"Oh no, I'm not leaving just yet." She stepped back and smirked at him, stroking the middle of her chest. "I do believe I have another meeting to attend to, among other things."
His jaw dropped as the doors closed. He stared at the knob as the lock clicked. Barely seconds later there was a muffled thump, followed by a series of smaller ones.
He let out a low whistle. "She's got a hell of a thirst."
He could admire that in a woman.
Janice leaned back against the headboard, Anna's head in her lap. Elsa had left them early, as she had for the past week, making up excuses about having to examine some foreign rulebook or other. Anna knew that she did go to the library, but for all Elsa struggled with international law, it usually made her more cranky than melancholic. She knew what Elsa was trying to do, and disapproved. She preferred her own method.
Janice's fingers combed through her unbraided hair gently, stroking her as if she was a cat. It was soothing, in a way. It would have been more so if Janice's hands didn't shake.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered.
They'd been silent most of the evening, Anna having convinced Janice to retire early, on the grounds that she had an upset stomach and just wanted to sit and talk.
Janice's hands stilled. "Anna, tell me something."
Anna was quick to respond. "Anything."
"How did your parents die?"
Anna closed her eyes. Oh. But didn't she know already? For months afterwards her dreams had been tortured by gurgled cries and underwater screams; she could imagine perfectly her mother's dying cry, having relived it again and again at night. Father, in her mind's eye, was always too tall, too proud to waste his last breath on a scream, and in her reenactment he was always striving, to the very end, to reach the surface, clinging to Mother, trying desperately for air and light and life.
"They drowned." An unspeakable, unknowable tragedy wrapped up in a single sentence. How many others could claim such efficiency in their own deaths?
Janice didn't wait for her to ask. "My mother died in a fire. I learned of it mere hours later. Following that, my father rapidly succumbed to a wasting illness that had plagued him most of his adult life. I was required to examine their bodies, before burial, to ensure it was them. I didn't. I don't know how well they died, as a result. Sometimes I wonder if they died with dignity."
"…what does that even mean?"
"Well what do you think we're put on this earth for? Humans are unique amongst other walks of life in that it is our task to learn how to die well."
Anna shuddered. "I just can't think like that. How can you waste your life doing that? I'd rather learn to live. Why should I learn how to die with dignity?"
"You don't need to," Janice said, and leaned down, drawing Anna's face close to hers by her fingertips. She kissed her cheek lightly as Anna's heart fluttered. She pulled back and gifted Anna with a rare, warm smile. "You already know how."
Anna drew in a trembling breath. She and Elsa rarely spoke of that day, except in cursing Hans' name or talking about Elsa's power or using it to mark the day their lives changed, for good. But she had never told Elsa just what it had felt like, to freeze, and she suspected that if Elsa had ever asked, she might have refused her, for the first time in her life. It was a strange feeling, wanting to hide something away from her sister, her best friend, her lover, but it was so painfully personal that the thought of giving that burden to anyone else was too terrible to imagine. But now Janice, blunt Janice, was treating her most frightening memory as if it was this beautiful thing that she alone had had the blessing of experiencing.
"Well…it wasn't like I planned it, or anything. I just sort of…did it. She was going to die, otherwise. Elsa would say that I act without thinking." The affection on Janice's face was almost blinding.
"That sounds more like your voice than hers. When are you going to stop listening to it? You are beloved, Anna, by your sister, by others, by anyone you meet."
"Not everyone," Anna whispered, remembering a chill deep in her soul, gloved hands that locked her away, a grim smile that hid sharp teeth within.
"By anyone worth your time," Janice said, stroking her hair lightly. Anna could feel the tremors against her, and opened her mouth.
The clock chimed.
Janice still sat there with her, but she watched as the woman retreated inward. Her small chuckle sounded like leaves scratching against a battered door. "My own bed beckons, it seems." She looked down at her arms. Anna's hands gripped them tightly, though she hadn't been aware of that happening, and she gently extricated herself from the other woman and stood, the ache in her muscles moving from a sharp one to a dull roar that pounded against her bones.
Anna lay on the bed, watching her go. Janice hesitated at the mirror, about to speak, and Anna's heart soared. Then she closed her mouth and stepped through, leaving Anna alone.
Janice stirred her soup idly with her spoon, maneuvering it around chunks of potato as Anna prattled on about her new princeling. Janice's ring caught the light and she smiled inwardly. It was a small thing, tarnished and bent strangely, made of iron. Her Anna had, when bonding with the blacksmiths in town, convinced them to let her try her hand at making items. She'd said she was planning on making chainmail, but had stopped trying after receiving her fourth burn and decided that it was a ring instead. Elsa had laughed and tapped it lightly, sealing it with some of her warm ice, and it sat on Janice's index finger, an odd contrast to her signet ring on the other hand.
"Did you just hear a word I said?" Anna asked, her fingers drumming irritably on the table. Her mouth was a thin line. There was no laughter there. She looked like a stranger. Sometimes Janice forgot that she was.
"Yes, yes; this…Hans fellow, he's a scholar, then? Well done, fine catch."
"I haven't said that we're to be married yet," Anna said, giggling, as she lifted her hand to her mouth. An engagement ring sparkled there, and Janice almost rolled her eyes at her sister's lack of tact.
"Of course not. You have to ask for my permission, first." Janice sipped her wine, looking over at Anna with level eyes. She thought she might have seen the fingers holding her spoon clench, but it was only for a moment.
"Of course," Anna conceded, and dropped her hands and eyes briefly to her lap, smoothing her napkin. A silence fell over the pair, during which Janice watched the way her hand move above her bowl and Anna watched Janice's slow breaths.
"May I have your permission?" Her tone was casual, but Janice could feel the desperation seeping into it. She set the spoon down gently, before it could wobble, considering. As far as she was aware, Anna and Hans had met earlier that day and spent the time in the gardens, chattering together like huddled birds. One of her men, who had shadowed the pair, had informed her that Hans was the last in line for his throne, was moderately handsome and fit, dressed and spoke well, and had all the trappings of a man trying to wheedle his way into the heart of a foolish rich girl.
She had also, of course, also learned of a different Hans. But given the differences she could see between her Anna and her world's Anna, let alone herself and Elsa, it was not entirely fair to assume the worst of this Hans.
"Certainly," she said, and resumed eating. Anna gawked at her.
"You-you said yes? Just like that?"
Janice shrugged, and Anna continued to stare. "Why not? You seem to like him, and I know that it's not a decision made lightly." Anna flinched. Janice resisted the urge to sneer. Besides, Hans, if he had any foresight in him, would have learned by now that Janice had had the rules of succession clarified recently. If he intended to wed Anna for her connection to the throne, he would be unhappy to find that upon her or Janice's untimely deaths he would be immediately exiled even if the subsequent trial found him not guilty.
"Well, I-thank you, Ja-your Majesty," Anna said, returning her gaze to her lap.
Janice nodded absently. For a moment, Anna's hair shone in the candlelight, and she could see laugh lines on her bunching cheeks as Anna babbled merrily about meeting a bunch of kids and giving them candies and chocolates, because she thought love involved cavities, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.
Anna looked up and frowned at her, and Janice remembered. She put her spoon down, feeling too nauseous to eat suddenly.
"Were…were you just-"
"It was nothing," Janice said, sighing. "Nothing at all."
Anna tossed the acorn idly, brooding. "It's not nothing."
"Pardon?"
"Put the knife down, Kristoff, I'm in needy mode again."
"When are you eve-okay." He stopped sharpening the blade, wiping it on his pants before shoving it in the sheath. He shifted in his seat to look at her as she paced. She threw the acorn aside harmlessly, and his eyebrows rose.
"She's not getting any better." He didn't need to ask who. "I've tried to bring it up, and so has Elsa, but she just keeps brushing us off. Says that she's just tired, or ate something that was bad…it's been a week since New Year's, and she still hasn't gained any weight back, her hands shake, and…Kristoff, she's started wearing gloves."
He watched her walk back and forth, considering his words carefully. "You did say that she was once Elsa. Or, I guess, an Elsa. Do you think she's regressing?"
Anna sighed and rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes. "I don't know. Neither of us know much about her past. Well," she admitted, "besides those few things she'll let us in on."
Elsa had, of course, explained to her in full what had happened that first night. She'd been startled to learn of how Janice had attacked her, but Elsa had readily assured her that the other woman was reacting to a threat, and nothing more. Fully intending to hate Janice for what she'd done, and was doing to Elsa, after she listened to the way Elsa spoke fondly of her, of the way she didn't fear her powers, but rather encouraged their use, and she'd found herself reluctantly persuaded by her words. That and, well, other persuasions. She was human, after all. So was Janice; a complicated human, but one she believed she understood.
But recent events had led her to question that understanding. Certainly she knew of a great deal of the woman's opinions, interests, and attitudes: in some ways she was ready to believe that she and Elsa knew Janice like few others did. But they didn't have the whole picture, because Janice went through the mirror and into their world, and never the other way around. Anna had asked why they couldn't, once, and Janice had smiled tightly and informed her that she understood magical crossings were exceptionally dangerous, and that in the absence of an anchor she was unlikely to be heard from again if she tried to force her way through the mirror herself. What followed was a discussion on other magical objects that Janice had become aware of, or at least tales of such, and Anna had bit her tongue, holding back her question, at the sight of her sister's fascinated, almost painfully hopeful expression.
Elsa hadn't asked herself. She suspected it was because she feared a rejection.
"I just don't know if what happened to Elsa happened to her as well." She looked up at him and frowned. "Something's wrong."
"Well yeah, you just said that."
"No, I mean, something's missing…" She tapped her mouth. There was Kristoff, seated at the grindstone, with-
Her eyes widened.
"Hey wait, where's Sven?" He rubbed a shoulder guiltily, and she noted there wasn't a single bit of reindeer fur on it.
"Ah, right. Remember when he left a couple of weeks ago?"
She shook her head. The weeks before Christmas had either been filled with planning her wedding or recovering from it.
"Well, he went off to go sow his wild oats, like he usually does. Now he's going back to his herd to check up on all the does he met."
Despite her worry, she couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, really? But you didn't go with him?"
"Yeah, we've kinda butted heads on it before. Literally," he added, rubbing the top of his head. "I didn't like it that he'd leave me, because he got really protective of his herd. But I've come to realize that a reindeer's got his own needs, so…"
"So he left you behind?"
"Only for a little while. Oh and before you ask, Olaf went with him. I think Marshmallow did, too; said something like 'find lover'. I…I didn't ask him what he meant."
She groaned and plopped herself down in the dirt next to him. Elsa might've winced at the sight of the princess rolling around in the dust: Kristoff moved his foot aside so she could sit more comfortably. "Everyone is abandoning me in my time of need."
"…did you need to talk to Sven? Because, uh, I kind of have something to tell you about that…"
She punched his knee, and he rubbed it good-naturedly. "I figured that out already, you big lug." Her smile faded, and she leaned her head against his leg.
He tentatively patted her shoulder. "So…what now? About Janice?"
Good question. "I…don't know what to do." She dragged a finger through the dirt. "I guess I just wanted to feel better."
"Ummmm…will learning to play the lute make you feel better?" She grinned, perking up.
"Yeah! I've always wanted to try, actually."
"Okay, let me get my bag, then we'll make some sweet music together."
She glanced around at their surroundings, at the dusty tables and chairs, and quirked an eyebrow at him.
He sighed. "It's just an expression."
Janice gripped the side of the mirror tightly, as though pulling herself through a gale. It felt like every step was over hot coals, sending hissing pain up her legs with every step, making them tremble with the strain.
Elsa and Anna sat together, whispering to one another. Anna was almost hissing at her sister, but Elsa kept shaking her head regretfully. They looked up at her approach and rose to meet her. Anna gnawed on her lip in worry.
Janice was still a beautiful woman, she was just…less of one, now. Her delicate cheekbones, once so high and becoming, cut through the air, looking sharp enough to hurt her skin. Fitting, since there were lesions there that hadn't been before. Her hands were wrapped in green gloves, ones that admittedly matched her royal robes quite well. It was strange to see the color on her, as usually she preferred to be clad in ice. But she hadn't worn an ice dress for some time now.
"Ah, my dear ladies, good to see you again; what have you planned for me tonight?"
Elsa folded her arms over her chest. "We planned to talk to you about your sickness."
Janice's face tightened. "Yes, that. Well, I'm sure it'll pass in time, you know how these things are."
"No, we don't," Elsa said, emphasizing each word. "This is not a cold, or influenza; there is something truly wrong."
The wayward queen drew herself to her full height, looking directly into Elsa's eyes. "In that you are mistaken."
Anna wrung her hands, and Janice's gaze darted to her. She took a few deep breaths, not liking the way Janice's own breathing seemed far too shallow. She gestured to the armchair, inviting Janice to sit, but she made no move to do so, intently focused on Anna's face.
"Look," Anna said, "you haven't used your power for almost two weeks now. At first I thought it was because you wanted me to feel at home with you and Elsa, because you could make your special ice chairs and I couldn't, but…I know that's not true. You love your magic, you love Elsa's magic, and you wouldn't give either of them up unless you had to."
"You're jumping to conclusions, Anna; I appreciate your concern, but I'm quite fine."
The sisters shared a look, and then took off their necklaces, showing them to her. They were both finely woven gold, beautiful enough as is, but Elsa's looked strangely bare without the snowflake affixed to it. Janice's jaw flexed at the sight.
"It shattered by itself earlier today. What of your ring?"
Janice looked down. She slowly pulled a glove off, and Anna stifled a gasp at the sight of her palm, where more lesions had developed. So, both she and Elsa wore gloves to conceal things from others, and for the same reason, too. Janice turned her hand over, revealing the ice ring, fully intact, surrounding the warped metal beneath.
"That's what I thought: even though the window closes every night, the objects I create have survived, because I retain my power. Your power is…slipping."
Janice gritted her teeth, trying to force the words out anyways. "This is a fact that I was already well aware of."
"Then why didn't you tell us, Janice?" Elsa said, her voice almost as much of an angry hiss. "Did you think we didn't deserve to know? That it wasn't a real issue? How can it not be, when everything about you, from your happiness to your ability to hold a conversation to your health is in decline?"
Janice regarded them coldly, but Anna saw through, to the wounded animal within. Kristoff had taken her hunting once, and though she detested the whole affair, one moment stood out starkly, like blood against snow. It was the way the lynx had stood, as though its foot hadn't been caught, staring down the hunters that approached it cautiously, hackles raised and mouth pulled into a fierce snarl, a fierce opponent that snapped and hissed at all who came near, up until the very moment when a knife plunged into its heart.
Elsa was still speaking. "A month, Janice. That's how long it's been since you first got sick, and I mean truly sick. And yes, sometimes you're better, but those times are few and far between. Your health has been failing for weeks now, and we can't just let this go on."
Janice's eyes narrowed. "You can't 'let this go on'? Do I bow to you, you or your sister? Who are you to say where I may come and go?"
"Well," Elsa began, her eyes blazing, "I could say that you are standing in my home, or I could say that I invited you into my world by my own hand, or I could even say that as the queen of this land I outrank you." She held Janice's trembling gaze without flinching, a proud mountain standing tall against a howling wind.
Her face softened. Her eyes were sad. "Or I could say that I love you too much to see you in pain."
Janice's shoulders slumped, and she finally sat down, collapsing into the armchair.
"What…what would you have me do?"
Elsa took in a sharp breath, but Anna spoke first. "What I think you should do is just spend some time here resting; not talking with us, or doing anything, just sleeping, and maybe we can have someone come and look at you, or-"
Janice was looking up at Elsa. She remembered a time when it had been the other way around, when a powerful force had stepped into her world, overshadowing her in its might, taking what she needed, Elsa wrapped in chains, but not afraid. Now it was Elsa who was above her, and Janice's body was wracked with chills, and she found herself wondering if Janice felt any fear. Her eyes asked the question that her tongue did not.
"I don't agree with Anna." Janice waited for her to continue and then exhaled slowly when she didn't. "Then what do you propose…?"
Anna answered. "She wants you to leave."
"I never said that, Anna," Elsa said, too patiently to be truly calm. "But…I do think you should go."
"And why is that?" Janice's eyes were dull.
"Because we have tales of magical objects, too, and not all of them are worthy of wonder. Mirrors in particular do not have good tales associated with them. In fact, of those few stories and descriptions I could find of them, not one had any positive qualities associated with them. Most damaged the user outright, while others simply stole something from them, and the last-" Elsa drew in a measured breath, while Janice waited for the blow. "The last mirror that I read about was one that slowly stole a person's life away, until they were no more."
"A rapid, wasting illness…"
"And you believe that this is what has been happening." It was not a question.
Elsa nodded silently.
"And therefore you have decided that the best course of action would be to take no action."
"No, Janice, it would be to retreat and observe. After all, it…I'm certain it'd just be for a little while-" they all heard the lie, writhing naked and ugly between them "–until you can determine if your health is improving."
None of them voiced the concern that Janice had doomed herself by stepping through the first time. The thought was too painful to be spoken aloud.
Janice chuckled. If Anna squinted she could see water glittering in her eyes. "Always pushing people away from you, Elsa? You'd think by now you would have learned not to do that." Elsa weathered the blow, knowing that Janice was in pain.
Anna gripped her upper arms tightly, looking at the ground. "You, Olaf, Sven…everyone's leaving." Janice snorted. "Why would you even care about a reindeer?"
"Sven's family."
"So?"
Anna's jaw dropped, and Elsa put a hand on her arm. "What she means is that Sven is loved. As are you, Janice. That's why we have to let you go."
The woman was quiet for a long time, staring at her naked hand, at the sores on it, like a bloodstain on parchment.
"And if I don't want to let you go?"
Anna swallowed hard around a lump. She knew how this conversation ended. She'd had it dozens of times, and each time he'd held her gently, explaining that sometimes people need space, but Elsa would be back, in time, and they'd be a family together again, you'll see.
The last time he'd said that had been two months before their death. They hadn't even been a family together at their funeral.
Elsa's eyes were bleak. "It doesn't matter, does it?"
Janice looked up at the knock. She inhaled shakily, pressing her fingers to her forehead, trying to quell the nausea that had arisen at the slight movement. She let her hand drop to her side. "You may enter."
Anna slowly drew the door open and just looked at her for a moment, drawing her eyes over her sister's form, from the royal robes she had resumed wearing, hanging loosely, to the pale skin of her collarbone and neck, to the controlled chaos that was Janice's signature hairdo. If she squinted, she could see small patches missing. She bit her lip and stepped inside fully, pushing the door closed. She bore the crown of Arendelle, a gaudy, heavy thing that their father had once worn, on a satiny pillow upon which was sewn the crocus symbol of the royal family. Janice preferred her tiara when merely addressing her council, but when surrounded by her court, a more impressive mask was called for. Anna began walking towards her.
"We have servants for that," Janice murmured, and Anna stopped. Janice closed her eyes briefly. Always saying the wrong things. If Elsa and Anna were like a pair of doves circling in the sky, winding and twisting around each other in flight, Janice and Anna were like a pair of dancers given different instructions, forever stepping in the wrong direction at the wrong time.
"I just wanted to see you," Anna said. Her voice was small. It should have been loud and bright. She should be saying something about what she did with Olaf who- who didn't exist in this world. She frowned and pressed her fingers to her forehead again.
"You see me nearly every day." She could tell by the way Anna's eyes darted to the side that this was again not what she should have said, but her sister forged on.
"No, I see the queen. What I don't get to see is you," Anna said, pointedly, and set the pillow down on the desk in front of her. She folded her arms and looked at her older sister, her eyes…there was some emotion in them. Janice couldn't identify it. Some dark shape stirred and roiled in the depths of her eyes. She peered at her, curious, but Anna retreated behind her own mask, leaning back almost imperceptibly.
"Do you want to see me?"
"I would like that, yes."
"…why?"
Anna blinked rapidly, and then dropped her gaze, dragging a toe lightly across the floor. Janice stared dumbly at the movement and then started, realizing Anna was speaking.
"…and I thought, well, perhaps if I couldn't do anything to help, I'd at least get to see you some more."
"Help with what?"
Anna boggled at her. "Are-are you serious?"
"Quite," Janice gritted out. "Now if you would cease with your games, I co-"
"Janice, you're dying." Their gaze met, blue against sea-green, and for a moment Janice could remember a time when there hadn't been that crack there, slicing a jagged line between them, a time when she wore green dresses instead of ice blue, and Anna screamed merrily on their bike while Jan-Elsa chased after her on foot, pretending to be dragons and knights during the days their parents let them out of their lessons to play. A time when Janice didn't know what it meant to lose something and Anna didn't know what it meant to give up on something and it was just the four of them, until they were reduced to two, and then to one.
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that." She pulled off a glove and lifted her hand: a sphere of ice coalesced in her palm. "There you are, proof that I-"
The ice shattered and collapsed into smoke. Janice stared at her empty palm, suddenly breathless.
Anna was trembling. "You are dying," she repeated, and swallowed. Suddenly she started laughing, and clapped a hand to her mouth. Her eyes were watery when she took it away. "And yet here you stand."
Janice sneered, her hand tightening into a weak fist. "What else am I to do, kneel? Do you think I haven't been searching for the cause?"
"Of course not, I know that you-" Anna's shoulders slumped, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Janice, startled, drew back.
"What have you discovered?"
Janice smoothed a hand idly down her front to quell the shaking. "Nothing much, I'm afraid. I can be certain I haven't been poisoned, seeing as all of my food is tested and I breathe the same air as everyone else. Perhaps there is some other route I haven't considered." She had done more than just consider one. The mere thought of it pained her more than her ill health did.
Anna was wringing her hands. She quickly threaded the fingers together and dropped them down against her. "So you suspect foul play."
"Of course I suspect-" Janice stopped, biting her tongue. Anna stared at her in confusion.
"What's gotten into you? And I don't mean whatever this…illness is. You've been sick for maybe a few weeks, but acting strangely for…God it might even be a year now. I come in for breakfast and you're not there – Gerda tells me your first meal is almost at lunchtime – and then you retire early. You've not written any new plans for furthering your conquest, and if even I heard about the splinter groups from Weselton and Princetown that captured one of your flagships before you did, something's wrong. And now you just…something's wrong."
"My mind has, admittedly, been elsewhere, but I can assure you-"
"You've never been able to promise me anything," Anna said quietly. "That's why you always got along better with Father. You matched."
Janice opened her mouth, and paused. The blow hit her as if slowed down considerably: she had heard the words before, but they had usually been screamed at her. This time the burn ached for longer, so much so that it seemed to sink down to her very bones and settle around them like so many hands grinding knives against her sensitive flesh. Her hands felt cold.
"Anna, I'm…" Something trembled at the edge of her vision, like a memory, or a feeling, or a word. She remembered its shape, how it felt on her tongue, what it sounded like in her mouth, and spoke. "I'm sorry."
Anna stared at her. "You…" She looked down in what was a recurring pattern: neither could hold each other's' gaze for too long. "You're sorry. Tell me, Elsa, how sorry are you?" she spat.
Janice did not speak. She didn't think Anna wanted her to.
"Were you sorry that day, or just angry that he never got to see you crowned? See how much you deserved it, all of his love and attention, how you deserve everything? How much of your 'sorry' is wasted breath? Some? All?"
Janice turned away.
Anna made a disgusted noise. "I've seen it, you know. The portrait you put above your desk. Just had to find the one without Mother, didn't you? It's not like you cared for her much anyways."
"If you still hate me," Janice said slowly, "why do you care for my wellbeing?"
"It's not like I'd hate you to the point of not attending your fune-" Janice closed her eyes. Her back trembled and her scars burned. Her skin was so easily damaged now.
"Get out." She tried not to imagine Elsa's face. They looked so different. Her hands were aching.
She heard Anna clear her throat. Her voice sounded thick. "Your people are waiting for you, your Majesty."
"Let them wait."
Anna's footsteps retreated, and the door opened. She heard a small noise, but before she could turn back the door had closed with a soft click. She stroked the crown with her fingertips, thinking. She lifted it – when had it grown so heavy? – to her temples and settled it over her hair. Some strands came away when she did so, and she stared at them, so small and thin against her palm.
She flung them violently to the side and stalked to the door. Pain radiated up her feet to her weak legs.
It didn't matter. She had a job to do.
"You're up late." Anna shifted in the armchair, drawing her knees tighter against her chest. It made her feel better.
"Not really," she mumbled. Elsa looked down at her for a moment, then made a shooing motion, and Anna obligingly moved over, allowing Elsa to sit down and lean against her side.
The mirror stood in front of them. The room within it was dark, as it had been for weeks now. It felt longer. Waiting always did make the years drag on.
"Gotten used to being awake at this time." Elsa nodded and tucked her head against Anna's shoulder. Her warmth sank deep into the queen's bones. Once it had been enough, just to know that she was loved, had been loved, all those long years. Once it had been enough to lose herself in Anna's kiss, feeling her body and soul respond as one to her passion, her sincerity, to the simple truth that beat in her heart. Somehow it wasn't enough now. Something was missing.
"It's funny, y'know? How just a little bit of distance makes her seem so small."
The bedroom beyond, so similar to the one they were in now, was silent, save for the soft breaths of the sleeping woman. Her hair was so much more unruly at night than it was during the day: she might've found it cute, months before, but now it just made her stomach twist in knots, like the sheets around Janice's legs when she tossed and turned during those few hours when they could see into her room, when the window was open and there she lay, covered in blankets and yet bare to the world. Elsa had removed the thin pane of ice she'd forced over the mirror weeks ago, now confident that Janice would not try to sneak through. She had, before, when Elsa was far too distracted to maintain the separation, and when she had returned from her foray in the library, unable to sleep herself, she had caught her sister and Janice conversing, Janice in the wrong world. Elsa had been furious that they would disregard her safety, and Anna had clapped a hand on Janice's shoulder, intending to inform her sister that it was love that Janice needed in order to heal fully, not rejection.
Janice had dropped like a stone, her legs crumpling beneath her.
She hadn't needed to say anything more after that.
Anna groaned lightly, dropping her head to her knees. "Ugh. Can't sleep now, but my body still makes me feel crummy. It's not fair."
Elsa chuckled, the vibrations feeling good against her side, even if she clearly wasn't amused. "Well, so long as you promise me you're not sick…"
Anna made a small noise, and Elsa immediately wrapped her arms around her shoulders, kissing her hair gently.
"Was this what it was like, waiting for me?" Elsa considered this. She remembered how time seemed to slow, even as her heart beat faster and faster, as Anna fell, innocent, trusting, the ground reaching up to break her apart, Elsa throwing out her arm in desperation, the bolt hitting its mark, her limp, cold body, the frantic ride, the trailing reminder of her curse, the door closed by her own hand, quarantining herself to keep her safe, the girl that waited for her every day, until that girl was replaced by a youth, then by a woman, and she knew nothing and everything about her all at once.
She pressed her lips firmly against Anna's forehead. "I was going to ask you the same thing."
Anna turned her head and laid it against her sister's neck. "I find it helps to have someone to hold onto."
They didn't return to bed that night, holding vigil until the dawn.
"Prince Hans, your Majesty." The servant indicated the well-groomed man to his left with a bow.
She dismissed the servant without so much as a look, eyes trained on the prince. The study doors closed with a soft click behind him.
The prince bowed in a fluid motion, more like an actor in some scene than a noble addressing a monarch, as if there were any real difference, and she noted with distaste that he never dipped even an inch below what was considered polite. Calculated insubordination. She could admire that in a person, even if it made things more difficult for her. Her hands were shivering.
He straightened, his immaculate coat making him appear larger that he really was, like some beast in the woods. She imagined thick fangs behind his lips, and they flashed into existence, dripping saliva as a snarl rumbled in his throat. She blinked: he eyed her expectantly, fully human. When she did not speak, he did. "You summoned me, your Majesty?"
She folded her hands over her desk. "Yes. You intend to marry my sister."
"…I believe it is too early for me to presume-"
"And yet the ring that sits on her finger right at this very moment proves you a liar, therefore I find it entirely within my rights to demand your reason for flouting both custom and convention." To his credit, he hid his surprise well. Masks, so many masks. What color was hers? She knew, once. She remembered the feel of it against her face. But now her skin was raw and naked and tingling with pain. Somewhere along the way it'd been pulled off, and she hadn't the strength to put it back.
The wolf circled her.
Hans hadn't moved.
"I admit that I care for the girl, and therefore gave her a token of my love. If she decided to interpret that as an offer of marriage, well, I do apologize for being so forward, I of course would seek your permission before beginning an actual courtship."
Janice nodded thoughtfully. "Do you think me stupid?"
"Why no, your Majesty." Her leg spasmed painfully.
"Do you think her stupid?"
"Of course not!" Good show; he almost sounded upset. They'd make an excellent pair; her with her doe eyes and him with his fangs. She supposed there was something romantic about it.
"Then I expect you to speak the truth." He nodded reluctantly. She tried to shift in her chair discreetly. His eyes followed her every move.
"I gave her permission to marry as she pleases. For some reason that includes you." She waited for him to smile. "I presume she will return with you?" The light in his eyes dimmed.
"Ah, I'm not sure that she would like the Isles. It's quite different from her own home."
"And yet you appear to be adapting remarkably."
"I have been welcomed with open arms: it's quite the difference."
"Pity, that." She considered the backs of her hands. He waited, his jaws open, saliva dripping down onto the desk. The desk was dry.
Her curiosity got the better of her. "Do you care for her?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" He hadn't even hesitated. A practiced liar.
"I suppose that makes two of us," she said, softly. The 'once' went unsaid. He made a noise of endearment.
"Oh, I see; you couldn't bear to part with your younger sister. I understand. I come from a large family myself, and whereas we might not all get along, they're still family. It's good that you'd like to keep your sister nearby."
She smiled at him. It helped combat the nausea. "Oh, you know what they say; keep your friends close, family closer, right?" He heartily agreed. She imagined his head on a pike.
He frowned at the corner. "Last time I was here there was a mirror. Did you have it moved? Huh", he said, at her sharp, jerky nod. "Well, it did seem a little strange, having a mirror in one's study."
"You'd be surprised what your reflection can tell you," she said. The sounds warbled in her throat.
He chuckled. "I wouldn't know, I've never really cared for mine."
There was a knock at the door, and the servant reentered.
"I believe that is your cue to go, Prince Hans." He bowed once more; lower this time, but more stiffly; and walked toward the door.
Almost to the door, he paused. He took a breath, as though carefully considering his words. Such a pretty little act.
"If I may be so bold," he said, his words lisping through the sharp teeth that…that weren't there, "you seem rather protective of your sister."
"Of course: why wouldn't I be? Did you expect me to abandon my own blood at the drop of a hat, to avoid seeing her at every turn, to run off to some distant land, some strange world of…of…" Her eyes widened.
He was right in front of her. He was miles away. He was at the door. Her hands itched when he spoke.
"Perhaps she would like to know that."
He was gone.
The servant came to the queen's side. His rabbit nose quivered against his whiskers. The man was clean-shaven.
"Well?"
"Books on poetry, astronomy, classical Greek texts, a variety of clothes, personal effects…nothing damning, or even suspicious."
She considered this. It didn't make sense. She nodded, not trusting her hands, and the servant quickly left.
The sweeps had turned up nothing. None of the foreign dignitaries were hiding anything dangerous behind their fanciful words and beautiful clothes. Her doctors were baffled, and told her as much. Some were willing to prescribe remedies, anyways, which she declined. Others had the temerity to suggest there was a natural cause, but how could there be? And yet there was nothing lurking in the shadows, no hidden assassin who waited with baited breath for her to collapse. For all his clear interest in the throne, if Hans was the cause of her illness, he was using a means she had never seen before. Perhaps magical? Highly unlikely. After all, wasn't she entirely alone?
No. She used to be, but now…
She looked up, at the spot where the mirror used to be.
She shook her head, lost in her own thoughts, and a single hair landed on the table in front of her. It had an odd, dark band to it. It contrasted sharply with the white band running along her fingernails. It was almost like a reverse image, beautiful, in a way.
Her stomach clenched painfully. This should have alarmed her.
She didn't have the strength to care.
"You're up late."
Janice turned to see Anna at the door, clad in a nightgown, holding a candlestick. She hadn't knocked. Janice sighed and waved her inside, or tried to. What actually happened is she lifted her hand and waggled it, the fingers too numb to do more than hang limply. She settled herself back against the headboard, knees to her chest. Anna slipped inside and set her candlestick beside the lit lamp. They looked odd, side by side. They didn't match.
"You're also awake." Anna's eyes were gleaming in the faint starlight that trickled through the small windows. Janice was swathed in darkness. She imagined herself as a huntress lying in wait for the unsuspecting deer to creep closer.
"I often go for walks at night. I like the castle when it's quiet. It just feels like I'm all alone while the whole world is sleeping. It's comforting, to be alone, sometimes."
Janice nodded. She knew the feeling. Or, rather, had known. When had that changed?
Anna stepped towards her, legs as long and thin as a fawn's. She even had the bright coloring of one. It had made it that much harder to find her when they played hide and seek in summer, back when Elsa's too-thin cheeks were rounded with baby fat and Anna's slow speech was peppered with immature giggles as they raced around the gardens.
Elsa was gone now. But Anna was still here.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired, weak, inclined to restless sleep and disinterested in anything at all." It came out in a breathless rush, one powerful enough to blow Anna back a step.
"I…didn't really expect an answer, or even one that sounded…truthful," she admitted. She bit her lip and looked away. Her gaze fell on the bedside mirror, turned away, and Janice stood hurriedly, bumping the table as she did. Anna glanced down as the bejeweled scepter and orb rattled, and lifted an eyebrow.
"Do you really keep these by your bedside?"
"It's a reminder of who I am, every day. I've done so for years."
They used to sleep in the same room together. Then someone had decided that she was too old for childish pursuits and too weighed down by a grasping younger sister; her mind was needed on other matters, to focus and hone her talents. She couldn't remember who that someone was. She didn't know if she could forgive them.
Her knees buckled, legs failing her, and she threw out an arm. Anna quickly reached out for her, grabbing her forearm. Her skin wailed at the touch, agony sinking sharp fangs in the shape of long fingers into her flesh.
"Don't touch me!" Janice screamed, yanking her hand out of her grip.
The cry ripped her throat apart, blood cascading down her front, Anna gasping at the sight, and-
She brought a trembling hand to her throat. The intact skin burned in response. Coughing weakly, she gestured at the air, and for a solitary moment a glass appeared. Then it vanished like so much smoke.
Anna had been watching her silently, her eyes hard. Her jaw tightened: Janice could see the muscles move beneath the skin. "And now you're finally at my level. Tell me, how does it feel to be cast into the dirt? Enjoying your time down here, with the rest of us mortals?"
"I never treated you like dirt, Anna," she said quietly. She still felt raw.
"No. That would involve treating me like anything at all."
Janice turned away.
Anna laughed. She sounded like the sweetest of birds. The sound of it hurt Janice's skin. "Always turning your back on me."
What could she say to that? Besides the truth? Janice found she hadn't the strength to do so. Had this illness truly brought her so low? Or had she been this frail all her life, and only just now realized the effort it took, to keep reaching out a hand, to find no one waiting there?
Her footsteps moved away, and Janice almost had room to breathe. They returned, and she tensed.
"I should think you'd have learned by now not to do that, Elsa," the stranger said.
Janice's eyes widened: she whirled, but too late. Far too late.
She felt a blinding pain and her world spun, twisting strangely.
The mirror jerked around as her flailing hand grabbed it. Then her grip failed.
Something heavy landed on the floor beside her head. A scepter.
She looked up into the coldest eyes she'd ever seen.
And then into nothing at all.