Love Will Thaw

Chapter One

Cost

She sat in silence at her desk, allowing the darkness of the room to wash over her, the source of light a single candle flickering next to her arm. Absentmindedly, she held her fingers over the flame, knowing full well that she wouldn't—couldn't—be burned, that the coldness that flowed through her veins would not allow it. She watched wordlessly as her fingers glowed blue, repulsing the orange flame that attempted to dance its painful waltz with her flesh.

Normally at this time of the evening, she would be helping her sister with her infant twins, getting them ready for bed, rocking them to sleep. Such activity had always filled her with joy, with happiness. She would marvel at how fast the twins were growing, tickling them, playing with them, holding them close, letting them know how much they were loved, all in anticipation of the day when she would do the same with her own children.

But that joy was no longer in her heart. The thought of being around her niece and nephew at the moment filled her with dread. Her mood was black, darker than it had been in years, since she had kept herself locked in her bedroom. Slowly, disinterestedly, she brought her fingers from the flame, rubbing them across her abdomen, feeling the raised scar that had been there for months, a reminder of the moment her milky white flesh had been impaled by cool, sharp iron.

"Something to remember me by." Hans's words rang in her ears, echoing in her mind, mocking her, forcing her to come to grips with her affliction.

She covered her ears, shut her eyes, desperately willing the voice to disappear, to leave her forever. She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to cascade down her face. Gritting her teeth, she dug her fingernails into the wood of the desk, refusing to allow herself to show any sign of weakness.

How am I going to tell him? The unanswered question lingered in her brain. It had been several hours since she had discovered, and still she was nowhere closer to an answer. Her husband, the man who made her complete, was due home the next day. He was travelling through the mountains, looking for survivors, desperately searching for any remaining artifacts of his people that he could bring back with him, that he could show to his people in exile to remind them of who they were. He will want to be with you, she thought. But will he now? Once you tell him . . .

She could contain the tears no longer. Sobbing, she buried her face in her hands, her heart ripped apart as memories of the past four hours—the most painful four hours of her life—tore through her consciousness . . .

"Elsa!"

Alúvelin jumped slightly as her sister's presence caught her by surprise. She was in the palace study, poring over ancient maps of the Continent, desperately studying the ancient lore for information.

"I'm sorry," Elsa said, her face flushing. "I forget sometimes how quiet I can be."

"It's all right," Alúvelin said. She looked at her sister, frowning slightly as she noticed the stress lines on Elsa's forehead. "Is everything okay? Are Anna and the children—"

"No," Elsa replied, raising her hand. "They're fine. There's nothing wrong. All three of them are taking a nap at the moment." A faint smile crossed her lips. "It's been a busy day. I'm letting her take a break for a bit. Kristoff will return from work soon, and—"

She paused, breathing deeply, her hands clutching each other as they had years ago, in another lifetime, when she had been terrified of herself.

Alúvelin picked up on her sister's distress instantly. "What's the matter?" she asked, rising, crossing to Elsa, placing an arm around the Queen's waist. "You can tell me, Elsa. We don't have secrets, remember?"

"I . . . I . . . I need you to do something for me," Elsa said softly.

Alúvelin nodded. "Anything. You know that."

Elsa looked at her, her ice blue eyes shifting about nervously. "Do you remember how you and Valanda used your powers to see Anna's babies while they were still in her womb, to make sure they were all right?"

"Yes," Alúvelin replied, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "But I don't understand—"

Elsa moved to the door, closing it. Satisfied they were alone, she moved back toward Alúvelin. "It's been three months since I have had my cycle, Alúvelin."

The former Empress looked at her in confusion. "Three months? Are . . . Are you sure—"

"I'm positive," Elsa said. "I . . . I've been feeling somewhat ill lately as well. I don't know how to describe it, but I feel . . . I feel . . . different."

Alúvelin's eyes widened as she realized what Elsa was saying, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh my goodness!" she whispered. "You and Arberish . . . You didn't waste any time, did you?"

Elsa blushed as she ran her finger over the wedding band on her right hand. "No. I guess we didn't."

Alúvelin beamed at her younger sister. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Elsa said. "But, I . . . I just want to be sure everything is all right. I . . . I'm worried, Alúvelin. I haven't gained any weight. Even though it is still early, I feel like something could be wrong. Could you . . . Could you please check for me? Please?"

Alúvelin brought her fingers before Elsa's abdomen, letting them glow crimson with fire. Gently, she laid her hands on Elsa's belly, closing her eyes. She allowed the heat to flow through her, into Elsa, seeking out the growing life inside her sister.

But something was very, very, wrong. Alúvelin shook her head. It can't be! she thought. I've made a mistake. It couldn't be . . . She doubled her efforts, forcing herself to examine the inside of Elsa's womb thoroughly. Frowning, she cried out as she let her entire consciousness open up, desperately looking for the growing child.

Realizing the horrible truth, her hands stopped glowing. Alúvelin opened her eyes, her face full of sorrow.

Upon seeing her sister's face, Elsa's pulse quickened, her stomach churning. "What is it?" she whispered. "What's wrong?"

Alúvelin was speechless. She had absolutely no idea how to deliver such devastating news. "Elsa, I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

The pain in her heart was too much to bear. Crying out, she threw her out her arms, a cascade of ice erupting from the very center of her being, coating the walls of her office with frozen water. Elsa laid her head upon the desk, unable to stop the sobs that wracked her body.

The blue ring on her finger, the Eden-stone, pulsed, a bright light erupting from it. The light faded, a familiar face standing before the Queen.

"I . . . I'm so sorry, Elsa. I don't know what to say." the blue Water Spirit whispered.

Elsa raised her head, staring blankly at Elenórathem, the Spirit of the Eden-stone. Her bloodshot eyes contrasted profoundly with the pale color of her flesh.

"Do . . . Do you want me to go?" Elenórathem asked, delicately laying her fingers on Elsa's shoulder.

"No," Elsa whispered. "You can stay. I just . . . I just need someone to be with me."

The Water Spirit sat across from the desk, watching quietly as Elsa continued to stare that the wall.

"I don't know what to tell him," Elsa confessed. "Or how."

Elenórathem took Elsa's hand from across the desk. "All you can do is tell him the truth."

A mirthless laugh left Elsa's throat, quickly turning to a fresh wave of sobs. "What if . . . What if he doesn't want me anymore? What if he throws me away? I . . . I don't know what to do!"

"You can start by getting rid of those thoughts," Elenórathem said. "Arberish will never just throw you away. He will understand."

"But . . . But he'll be so disappointed . . ."

A knock at the door disrupted their conversation. Elsa did not bother to respond as she sat in isolation behind the desk.

The door opened slowly, cautiously. A red-haired woman gingerly stepped into the office. "Elsa? Elsa, are you all right?"

She caught sight of Elenórathem and moved to speak with her, but the Spirit brought a finger to her lips. "Quiet, Anna. Your sister is in so much pain . . ."

Anna slowly moved toward Elsa, her heart aching as she saw the depths of sorrow etched into the Queen's face. "Elsa? What's wrong? Alúvelin told me I needed to talk to you. Right away. She said . . . She said something bad had happened . . ."

"How are the babies?"

Anna blinked, confused. Of course Elsa would think about others before herself, she thought. "They're sleeping," she answered. "Valanda and Kristoff are watching them right now. Alúvelin just joined them." She cautiously approached Elsa, realizing she had not seen her look this scared, this miserable in years.

"Hey," she said softly, taking Elsa's hand, noticing in the back of her mind that the usual cool sensation that ran through Elsa's flesh was now ice cold. "What's going on? What . . . What's happened?"

Elsa looked at her, barely moving her head, her eyes glassy. "I can't have children, Anna."

Anna was confused for a moment before she realized that, earlier that day, Elsa had told her the wonderful news. "Oh. Oh. I see. Of course you can, Elsa. You're just a little worried, that's all. I've seen how you've been with the twins. You'll be a wonderful mother—"

"You don't understand!" Elsa cried. "I. Can't. Have. Children!"

What? Anna felt her blood turn to ice as she looked upon her despondent sister. "What . . . What do you mean?" she whispered.

Elsa stared at Elenórathem, too emotionally shattered to make eye contact with Anna. "I had Alúvelin examine me earlier. I was worried that I hadn't started gaining any weight yet. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with the baby." She turned to Anna. "Do you know what she found?"

Anna simply looked at Elsa, feeling her heart crumble as agony radiated from her sister's body.

"There is no baby, Anna," Elsa whispered. "I physically cannot have children. Hans . . . When he stabbed me, the knife was glowing purple. It . . . It must have been some kind of curse, I don't know what. But when Alúvelin looked at me, she found nothing. No womb, no sónathem. Nothing!"

Anna was beside Elsa in an instant, her arms embracing her trembling, anguished sister. "Oh, Elsa," she murmured, running her hands through Elsa's hair.

Elsa could contain herself no longer. She screamed and screamed and screamed in anguish, not caring who heard her, not caring if the whole kingdom knew. She buried her face in Anna's shoulder, somewhat muffling her cries.

"It's okay," Anna whispered, stroking Elsa's back. "It's okay. We'll find a cure, Elsa. Everything will be—"

"No, Anna!" Elsa cried, feeling herself becoming upset once more. "There's nothing to cure. There is nothing there! It's gone forever! Hans . . . He had his vengeance after all. He took away my womanhood! I'm nothing, Anna! Nothing . . ."

Elsa sank to the floor, inconsolable, tears pouring from her eyes as never before. All Anna could do was hold her through the night, Elenórathem standing watch, as the Snow Queen of Arendelle mourned—painfully, tragically—the loss of the life as a mother she would now never have the opportunity to experience. And all the while, the darkness filled the office, its oppressing presence cruelly reminding the three that every victory has its price, every triumph a hidden cost, that now Elsa was paying that price in spades.

AN: Thus begins Part 5 of the Voices Saga. More to come!

Translation:

Sónathem – Ancient Arendellian word meaning "bearer of sons," i.e., ovaries.