Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Also, this scene is based off a Fight Club scene when Tyler and the narrator go for a drive and crash. The whole 'when will you stop trying to control everything and just let go!' seemed to fit perfectly and I thought it would be really entertaining to explore the whole 'Let it Go' concept on the flip-side.
"Come back to my car with me." said Alex over the noise of the tavern. Or bar, as he'd call it.
"Are you sure you can drive?"
He scoffed, sounding almost angry. "I most certainly cannot but we're not gonna go anywhere. I'm going to show you something."
She looked at him pointedly, searching for a further indication of what he meant. He only grinned back at her eagerly, amber eyes swimming in alcohol mixed with powdered narcotics meant to treat anxiety. He had become increasingly…. erratic these past few days, especially since he was fired. To hell with all of it! He practically shouted at her while she stared back at him with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. She hated to admit it but it was almost like looking into an exhibit, like 'look at that bear acting up in its cage!" Although, now that she thought about it, a certain amount of detachment was probably good. Too much worry would render her useless to everyone, including him. So she watched his rages, denouncing governments and authorities that sought to make everyone miserable, with an almost clinical spirit, no matter how close to home it struck. Is that how a friend should react? It's not like she had a lot of practice in that department. She could have taken him for an anarchist at the rate he was going with this kind of talk. She was the Queen and he was a pyromancer/ ex pyrotechnic who built fireworks for a living. She should have written him up but she couldn't bring herself to actually go through with it. She had seen him through and even mirrored his unraveling, gradually, gradually so she wasn't even aware of it until she was forced to look at things in retrospect.
She knew him too well as she had come to know herself.
But not enough to decipher what he meant just now. A combination of curiosity and drunkenness got the best of her and she relented.
"Well alright." she said.
He grinned and took her by the arm to the front of the bar, across the dimly lit street to a hitching station where is one horsed carriage was tied up. It was raining again of course. It had been raining nearly non-stop since the Great Thaw. Alex opened the door with a bow, a parody of chivalry for he loathed such things.
"After you your majesty."
She imagined playing into the parody, as she felt herself swaying slightly as she tried to stand up straight. So much for regality.
"What…. what is this?"
"You'll get it at some point. Hop in."
American expressions all seemed so casual and offhand; it was easy to allow oneself to be evoked to feel the same. Elsa gave him once last narrowed look before hopping in to the front passenger seat while he slammed the door behind her and untied his horse. He climbed into the carriage beside her and took the reins with an unusually tight grip that Elsa thought she saw the leather smoldering for a second. He flicked the reins and guided the horse onto the street.
"Didn't you say we weren't going anywhere?"
He smiled, more of a smirk than a smile, at some inside joke. "Exactly!" he said jovially "We are not going anywhere."
She would have been horrified a few months ago at the prospect of being stuck in a carriage with a drunken driver. God, the danger, the impropriety of it all! Instead she rolled her eyes.
"I don't have to tell you this is completely illegal. Or do they not have traffic laws in America?"
He scoffed, not breaking his gaze from the road. "America's a big place, some of it's pretty lawless. Ever heard of the Wild West?"
"Is that the one with horses?"
"Sure. Horses and cowboys and Indians runnin' round with nothing to set 'em straight or hold 'em back. You get a real sense of people in a place like that. Oh but nothings too wild for ol' Alex, he'll take care of it all, so send 'IM DOWN TO SAN FRANCISCO WHY DON'T YOU?!"
He had gone from a normal speaking voice, to a mumble then ended it with such a thunderous yell that Elsa was up pressed against the window, shocked into sobriety and staring at him incredulously. At least there was no ice in the compartment. Or fire.
There was a moment of silence as Alex sat there, stewing at something while Elsa tried to formulate a way to respond.
"What are you talking about?"
"You of all people would know what I'm talking about its…." He muttered the rest unintelligibly, sounding angrier and more spiteful than she had ever heard. "…..its a damned load of crap they've been feeding us and I knew it! Godamnit, I knew it all the way through and so did you, you bitch!" He wasn't talking to her any longer; he was pretending someone else was there in front of them while Elsa could only look on, wide eyed as they picked up speed. "What the hell did you think was going to happen – I told you you'd be dead - 'Oh no, wouldn't want no one getting shot' well fuck me sideways, guess what fucking happened?! Oh what, no answer from the famous smart mouth? I'll tell ya what happened: You're fucking dead!" sparks flew as he smacked his hands down the dashboard. Elsa felt the whole carriage lurch forward as the horse jumped and picked up speed.
"Alex!"
What?!" he wheeled around to face her, his eyes wide and crazed looking.
"Alex, look just calm down for a second – and watch the road!" Elsa scrambled to grab the reins, pulling them just in time to avoid careening over the curb and into a cart of produce. She struggled to get the carriage aligned as it tipped over on two wheels, and came down heavily, nearly lifting them off their seats. Elsa was leaned over, trying to drive the carriage from the passengers seat, her heart racing as ice began to materialize over the windows. Well that was just great. It was too clouded to see the side view mirror – although Alex seemed less than concerned. He was leaned back in his seat, hands folded complacently with a far away, sullen look on his face. He was always calmest in the face of chaos. "I can't – oh this is ridiculous – take the reins!"
"Where do you think you'd be right now if you weren't Queen?"
"I don't know – help me get back in the right lane, I can't drive like this."
"How can you not know?!" he was yelling again. "Think about it- what would you want to do with your life if you could choose like everyone else?!"
"Goddamnit, I don't know! I'm not 'everyone else' and I don't choose what I do!"
"Not good enough!"
They were at a gallop, heading towards main street where horses, carriages and young people were still milling about after hours. Elsa shrieked and let out a torrent of un queenly curses as they nearly collided head on with an Ox drawn cart, then narrowly zipped past a group of youths about to cross the street, leaving their berating far behind as they barrelled uncontrollably through the downtown core. Hell, they may even run into Anna at this hour. Well hopefully no into her. They were swerving all over the road, which was thankfully empty until Elsa looked ahead and found herself on the verge of panic. Ice spread all over the remaining interior as she saw a four-way intersection, up ahead leading to all the town's districts. At this hour, there was a steady flow of traffic, going left and right to the residential areas, with late night passenger wagons carting the last of the happy hour crowd and merchants, taking their livelihoods home. They were headed straight towards it.
Alex settled himself in his seat, as if steeling himself, with a determined look. Determined for what? He grabbed the reins from her and to her disbelief, tossed them aside, out of her reach.
"For Christ sake Alex, quite messing around!"
"Tell me what you'd want to do and I'll stop the car."
"What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?!"
"It has everything to do with everything! If we were gonna die right now, what would you have wanted to be?!"
"I – I don't know –"
"Say it!"
They were meters away from disastrous collision; there were shouts of alarm as citizens noticed the out of control carriage speeding towards them. Their eyes met and Elsa could see the horrified faces of her subjects as they registered the moment before disaster –
"I-I'd be an architect! Goddamnit, if I weren't Queen, I'd be an architect – are you happy now?!" The Ice Palace turned out pretty fantastic. It had been the manifestation of thirteen years of study and a fermented (that was the only word she could think of to describe it), pent up imagination. Although it's purpose had grown dubious in her mind – was it a place of liberation or was she just shutting everyone out again? Anna had called it a 'Frozen Fortress of Solitude.'
There was a split second where a skewed grin crept up Alex's face, and his eyes went wide and shining with a look of primal satisfaction. It nearly obscene and for the first time, she was frightened of him.
He grabbed the reins and yanked them sideways, causing the carriage to fishtail to a halt, knocking Elsa first nearly onto his lap then smacking back into the window. They sat there in silence for a moment, him as stoic as ever while she was slumped in her seat, breathing heavily as her heart raced. Alex wordlessly made a U turn into the proper lane and drove them at a reasonable pace, back up the street. Elsa didn't know what to say to him. She listened to the steady clip clop of horse hooves and the spattering of heavy rain on the roof of the carriage, feeling like she could synchronize the thudding in her chest to those steady sounds. Until Alex began to laugh.
It was softly at first, like he was trying to keep it to himself, until he caught sight of the incredulous, astounded look on her face that made him burst out in raucous, crazed laughter.
She was trapped in a carriage with a drunken madman. Who had also been, she reminded herself, her friend.
"Alex what…what is going on with you?"
"What do you mean?" he replied brightly. He was acting like nothing happened, and she knew it was feigned. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and she could see, despite that unsettling grin on his face that he hoped she'd go along with it. She noticed that about him since the moment she met him. It was reflective of the thirteen years and four month she had spent doing the same thing to her staff, her parents and to Anna, who never really picked up on it. Please don't ask, just go with it. It struck her with a profound empathy, seeing that for the first time in another person. For the longest time she complied with somber understanding and a touch of sympathy. Now, for some reason, it enraged her.
"What do I mean?! Are you serious? What the bloody hell do think I mean – you could have killed everyone! And us!"
"And tomorrow will be the greatest day of your life for it!" he lurched towards her as he said it, sending the carriage swerving all over again as she cursed loudly and scrambled for the reins. Only this time he held on to them and set the carriage straight again.
"Let me out of the car."
"Don't worry 'bout it, I'll drive you home."
"In the name of your goddamned Queen, stop the car or so help me, I'll write you up as an anarchist!"
That did it. He stopped laughing and pulled up against the curb. She opened the door and jumped down onto the road, and into a puddle, soaking her shoes. Her legs felt weak and she grumbled irritably, realizing that she was still drunk. She began walking up the hill towards the castle, her hands in her coat pockets as Alex got out of the driver's seat and began stalking after her.
"How long d'you think you can keep this up!" he shouted.
"Go home!"
"No, really – you think you're in control? None of us are in control and clinging to the illusion is only going to eat away at you till there's nothing left to hold you together! And then you know what'll happen?"
She did, in the back of her mind. It was one those things she prayed that people won't ask. She picked up her pace, but he was unrelenting and kept right behind her, needling her so she felt the insides of her pockets freeze and a surge of energy that threatened to spill over. She needed to get away.
"That's enough Alex." The rain was turning to snow. In late November, it was impossible to say if it was her or the weather.
Her unresponsiveness seemed to frustrate him and he continued. "It's gonna blow up in your face, Elsa! Everything – everything and everyone is decomposing, turning to dust and rot cause that's how it always ends and not you or anyone can do a thing about it! The whole world was doomed the moment it was born – you think your precious kingdom is any different?!" he sounded spitting angry. "Why can't you accept that, huh?" she kept walking, she could feel her composure breaking because even though he was insane, he knew full well what was happening to Arrendale. Don't ask. "You're all dead anyway so WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?!"
"I said ENOUGH!"
She caught herself as she whirled around, realizing her open hand would result in a ring of icicles that would likely impaled him. So she closed her hand, as the momentum carried her arm to land a hook at the side of his face, knocking him to the sidewalk. There was a second where Alex was looking up at her from the ground, a childlike astonishment on his face, and that same pleading look from earlier when he wanted her to pretend. She was shocked at herself as well, but the action provided just enough of a release that she was able to keep calm.
The moment ended as soon as it began, and Elsa saw his face switch to that disturbing skewed grin with keen, flashing eyes that almost beckoned her to hit him again. He reached behind him, his hand falling into the gutter. He paused for a moment as if contemplating something them stood up and marched boldly up to her, until they were inches apart, his hands complacently behind his back. His grinned widened as she stood her ground, standing straight, head held high to meet his eye. He would not intimidate her.
He laughed quietly and said softly. "That's the spirit."
She felt her breath hitch as he suddenly grabbed her roughly by the collar, and his other hand swung to the front, clutching the neck of an empty beer bottle that he struck her with, across the temple. She heard the sharp impact of shattering glass, could feel it reverberating throughout her skull as she sank to the ground, clutching her head. At first, she felt like she had floated out of her head and everything was now in the third person; she was screaming, lying on the wet, gritty sidewalk while he stood over her shouting 'How does that feel! Are you in pain, do you feel alive –"
"Oh my god! You crazy bastard!"
"ARE YOU ENLIGHTENED...are…are you alright?"
"Get the hell away from me!" he had started to bend down and she skirted away from him, scrambling to stand up then stumbling into a shop window, holding a hand up to feel a cut above the corner of her eye. She was disoriented, her vision blurry or was that blood dripping into her eye? Without another word to him, she turned started to walk away, aware of his gaze staring after her and the meandering zigzag of her steps. Her mind was a blank, her only focus on putting one foot in front of the other until before she knew it, she had reached the town square. The Castle was only a few blocks away. The thought seemed to jolt her into consciousness and as the sun began to rise over the buildings, a ray of excruciating light hit the side of her face, casting a reflection on a shop window.
She had only made one public appearance as Queen, right after the Great Thaw. The people had a limited, vague notion of what she looked like and no one knew whom she really was, allowing rumours to run rampant, especially when the servants began to talk. '
The Queen only sleeps one hour a night, the Queen doesn't eat, she doesn't need to because 'magical people don't need food'. The Queen is in cahoots with the Americans, she shot Hans from the Southern Isles, she's immortal, she's really a thousand year old sorceress who survived the medieval ages.' Anna had laughed at that one.
Elsa glanced to the side at her reflection. She was soaked from head to toe, her trench coat plastered crookedly on her frame while her eyes were red rimmed, and a line of blood ran into her eye and down her face. Months of sleeplessness, abandoned, frozen dinners and whiskey had caused her naturally pale complexion to turn pallor, while the gauntness of her cheeks coupled with her big, blue eyes gave off a sallow, childlike look. She quickly looked away, struck by her own aversion to herself.
She had really let herself go.