disclaimer — I don't own Frozen.
warning(s) — it's three in the morning, I'm running on fumes, and I think I'm developing insomnia. fuck me.
notes — because...52's being a pain in the ass right now -_- / I was researching greek mythology stuff for class and I thought of this halfway through. tells you a bit of how my mind works, doesn't it...^^'
"The cost will be great," Hel says. "There may be unforeseen consequences to your decision."
"...Yes."
Hel steeples her pale fingers together, quirking a single dark eyebrow up at the woman standing before her as she looks at Elsa with something close to disappointment in her bottomless black gaze, "I warn you now, my dear; I reiterate myself, because I do not want you to act rashly, Snow Queen, beloved of Skadi. It is not wise, in certain situations, to let emotions govern our choices, and this is such a situation wherein it is best to use this" — she taps her head — "rather than this" — moves her hand down to her chest. "You understand this, Snow Queen?"
The goddess of the underworld waits patiently for her answer, trembling breaths visible in the freezing night air.
The Snow Queen's eyes dart around for but a moment — her piercing blue gaze rests on the fresh daisies lying against cold gray stone — before she tilts her chin up — "I understand," she breathes again.
Hel pauses, then reluctantly nods.
"The cost will be great," she says again, "but I am not without reason." She holds up three fingers, "You will have three chances, Snow Queen, three lifetimes...which Odin knows is three too many...but I hope that it will be enough to alleviate whatever — torment you are currently putting yourself through," and she raises an eyebrow, heavy with meaning, at the Snow Queen.
Elsa's mouth is dry.
Hel surveys her for another few moments, and then she crooks a finger. "Come here, Snow Queen."
Elsa moves forward.
"I...thank you," she manages to get out.
"I personally believe that I am doing you a disservice," Hel bluntly says, raising a single hand where it hovers an inch from Elsa's forehead, "but I respect the fact that you have never once deterred from your goal — I admire your perseverance — and so I will respect your final choice." Her last words are a whisper.
"Close your eyes, Snow Queen."
And Elsa knows no more.
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(so...you have three chances
to reclaim what was lost.
where will these chances lead you?
you don't know.)
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but you can sure as hell guess —
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Elysium
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— well, that's not important right now.
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(maybe you should come to understand a few things, first.
like, addressing the elephant in the room:
how the fuck did you ever end up groveling to the goddess of death in the first place?)
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[prelude]
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("they say that a princess has to be full of charm and grace; never speak our mind; that we're calm and kind.")
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There was no shame when Elsa broke down in front of the whole of Arendelle and sobbed her absolutely worthless heart out.
The thing in front of her that she had her thin, stick-like arms wrapped around; it used to be a girl full of life and energy, used to have cheeks flushed with pink and locks a fresh shade of strawberry blonde — now too cold, too stiff, too dead. It was but the faintest shadow of what used to be her baby sister, Anna who was carved from flesh and hot red blood and bone; not this accursed, solid blue ice burning a frozen fire into Elsa's skin. Anna's expression frozen into an everlasting expression of fear and desperation, pattered with light crystallized snowflakes — this is what Elsa was hugging.
Long gone was her control, her plastic façade; the longer she touched the frozen form of her sister, the more distraught she grew, but she just can't detach herself from the statue, can't pull away from the result of her anger and sheer panic.
She couldn't tell how much time had passed with her kneeling over Anna, but her sister remained as cold and inanimate and blue as ever.
It was at that precise moment when Elsa learned to hate the color blue.
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("but between you and me?" she smiled down at the sleeping baby in the crib.
"we know better.")
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Anna had liked daisies in particular, she remembered that much, so there was a bouquet of those white-petaled flowers hopelessly crinkled in Elsa's shaking grasp.
By the time she reached the gravestone, the flowers were well frosted over.
Elsa set them down anyway and ignored the snow coming down hard in thick sheets all around her.
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No one disturbed Elsa — she'd started to lock herself in her room again, but this time without any parents telling her to do so — but at one point Kai and Gerda did attempt to break into the queen's chambers, with Her Majesty's best interests at heart, of course, because both of them were worried sick that the queen hadn't eaten a single bite of food for a week and that she may or may not have been dead from starvation.
What they found was a motionless queen, who thankfully still had flesh clinging stubbornly onto her bones, lying sprawled in a most undignified manner upon Anna's mattress and clutching something that looked like a doll close to her chest.
There were still tears bleeding into the covers.
The butler and the maid left rather quickly after that.
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( — relentless hallucinations — )
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There were nights when Kristoff, who had been offered shelter in the royal palace by a very distant Queen Elsa for no apparent reason whatsoever, can't sleep — nightmares of a frozen solid Anna were a common occurrence — and it wouldn't have mattered, but for the sound of shuffling feet outside his door.
He learned soon enough that it was the Queen, and when he would take a look she often had a dead and haunted look in her blue eyes — void of anything and everything.
But tonight — Elsa, her forehead pressed against the gleaming wooden door to Anna's room, hands balled into small fists and planted heavily on the dark maple. Kristoff thought he could practically hear the tears running down her cheeks, her despair emanating off from her in roiling waves. He didn't know how long Elsa had been standing, and frankly, didn't want to know, but he did know that Anna had been dead and frozen solid for over a month by this point, and that he would be of no use to the Snow Queen, because seeing her shoulders shaking with despair only made him want to put his head into his pillow and cry as well.
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The eternal winter had been long lifted from Arendelle's lands, but ever since the day Princess Anna had been buried, still frozen solid and standing upright, underneath ten feet of freshly turned dirt, there had been a perverse and lingering chill in the summer air.
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Elsa had never been particularly religious; she had, of course, learned about the gods of her land in her lessons, but never once had she truly believed in them.
Nothing really came to a surprise to her anymore — nothing startled her, at least — so when she arrived at Anna's grave for the third time in as many weeks, a fresh bouquet of rapidly-freezing daisies clutched tight in her hand, she didn't even bat an eye at the tall and imposing dark woman standing next to the headstone.
She took care to lay the flowers down in front of the marker, arranging them in a wreath of sorts, before stepping back to wordlessly survey the result of her efforts.
"It looks lovely," the woman said conversationally, sidling in closer to Elsa, who stared expressionlessly back.
"Who are you," the blonde flatly asked, her eyes as dead and emotionless as her voice.
"You can call me Hel," the woman responded.
"Hel is the goddess of the dead," Elsa distantly said, somehow managing to rapidly lose interest in the divine entity standing right next to her and turn back to the wreath of flowers. She was bending down to rearrange a few crooked blossoms when Hel spoke again.
"I have come to offer you a preposition, to help you climb out of this...depression."
"I'm not depressed," Elsa deadpanned.
"Oh, dear, we're in denial, aren't we?" Hel sarcastically snapped back, circling around Elsa like a hungry wolf. "Keep in mind, Snow Queen, I would not be here if Skadi had not implored me to speak to you." Rolling her eyes, "I'm sure that she'd come speak to you herself, but the idea she had in mind was more suited with...my area of expertise."
Elsa merely twitched. "And that is?"
"Oh, all things death," Hel airily responded, waving a dismissive hand. "Clearly, something went wrong when you froze your sister's heart; your act of true love, by all accounts, should have thawed her — yet, as it remains painfully obvious, it did not."
Elsa waited.
"Now, I am going to offer you your sister back."
If she had been drinking water, Elsa would have spit it out.
"What?"
"Hold on," Hel irritably hissed, "I'm not finished. Yes, I will offer you your sister back, but you will have to sacrifice something. Something as important to you as your sister."
For the first time since encountering her, Elsa turned to face the goddess of death, her eyes narrowed in clear irritation.
"Nothing," she lowly said, "is or was as important to me as Anna."
"What a shame." Hel tapped a finger against her lips. "I suppose you'll have to work for her, then."
Elsa quirked an eyebrow.
"Other universes, Snow Queen. Universes where your dear sister's...ah, soul, shall we say...is still present. Still alive. Would you like me to give you the chance to have Princess Anna (or, at least, more or less Princess Anna) in your life again?"
Something flickered in Hel's black eyes then.
"Yes," Elsa said without hesitation.
"Hmm. Are you sure?"
"You are the one who offered this in the first place," Elsa scowled. "And I agreed."
"I offered it because Skadi requested so of me," Hel indifferently said, "she hates to see her protégé so distraught."
"Protégé?"
"Where do you think you received your ice powers from?"
Elsa's lips thinned visibly, but she did not speak in response to Hel's almost accusatory inquiry.
"In any case, I am merely a messenger and the...giver, if you will. It does not mean I condone the action any."
"You didn't have to listen in the first place," Elsa quietly muttered.
"As much as it pains me to admit," Hel loftily said, "I owe that conniving winter goddess." Assuring Elsa, "It's a very long story."
A long pause.
"So...your decision was...yes?"
Elsa blinked.
"...Of course," she said.
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so you're left with three eras:
an echo —
— an impression —
— a reflection.
what will you encounter in them?
...only time will tell.
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[next/ echo]
The little girl has Anna's eyes.
Elsa fights the urge to vomit.
"Oh, come on," the girl aggressively snaps, crossing her arms and glaring at Elsa through narrowed eyes, "just because I have leukemia doesn't mean you have to treat me as if I'm made of glass!"
Elsa swears she's having a coronary as she gawks at the furious little girl (so unlike Anna, she distantly notes) through wide eyes and nearly dies right then and there.
"L-leukemia?" she all but squeaks.
The girl turns her nose up and sniffs, "Dr. Farrow says it's acute myelogenous leukemia." Pouting, she looks imploringly at Elsa — "Can you read me a story?"
Oh, my gods, did she just brush off the fact that she has cancer?!
notes 2 — shit, whatever. I will...edit this later. o.o / as always, fav/follow/review, if you please! :)