A/N: Sorry, guys, school has me pretty damn preoccupied. Short-ish update, but mainly cause there's like a looooot of shipping stuff in the next chapter. Also thinking of changing the summary, anyone have any ideas?

(Also shout out to the person who messaged me on tumblr-THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME THIS FIC EXISTS)

Suffice

Part IX

Summary: In the aftermath of the infamous Arendelle snowstorm, the sodden kingdom quickly settles into a sort of normalcy. Or as normal as it could be with the Dragon Prince imprisoned in the royal dungeons and the Snow Queen herself secretly visiting him when her nightmares became too much. See, it's easy to love a monster when you're one yourself.

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Elsa knew it was a dream the moment she opened her eyes.

The royal hall was just a touch off, the colors muted, the faces blurry and vaguely disapproving despite that. It was a memory pulled straight from the worst part of her, and she knew that. She knew that.

But knowing didn't matter.

Her hands were still straight at her sides, her feet were still stuck following the same patterns, the slow march up the aisle to her eventual coronation. Part of her was quite aware she'd already gone through with this, but it was quiet as the rest of her mind screamed in panic and fear. Senseless emotion clawed its way up her chest and throat, carving deep gouges in her self-restraint. They were upset at her, those whose faces she couldn't make out. They were very, very upset because she wasn't being a good girl anymore.

Snow, they scoffed as she knelt her head for the crown, its usual shape distorted into a crystal mockery.

Queen, they hissed as she gingerly took hold of the scepter, which was no more than a sharp shard of ice.

She turned numbly to face them, wanting nothing more than to scream, to wail past the blockage in her seizing throat at the sight before her. Their faces were blurry. Their faces were cruel. Their faces were frozen in eternal disappointment, for good reason.

Queen Elsa of Arendelle stood somber before a court of ice statues, soft flurries dancing around her in a slow spiral.

It was always going to happen.

It was always going to be like this.

It was always going to—

Plink.

Something fell atop her head. Plink. Again.

Without thinking, Elsa broke from the script and looked up just as everything melted around her.

A wall of water fell suddenly and terribly. She could barely manage a yell before she was swept away, coughing and spitting liquid from her lungs until she slammed against a hard surface. Her hands were burning, the chill of the staff having carved impossible welts in her skin that hadn't been soothed by the ice water. Her eyes had shut sometime during the wave. They clenched tighter as she kneeled and hacked up what seemed to be the rest of it. This couldn't-

A roar blasted her into awareness, a wave of heat replacing the water. Screams of absolute agony followed soon after, torturous wails that could barely be heard over the rampage of the monster, and Elsa's heart broke despite her confusion. Who was doing this? Who was attacking those poor people?

She had to…

She had to see…

She had to know…

The screams got louder, begging mercy and death. Her eyes snapped open just in time for the sharp claws of the monster to dig into her skull.

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Elsa woke with a shudder, a slow crawl of the skin that should have been worse.

That was…goodness, that had been terrible.

She shuddered again and it rippled through her entire body. The sheets on her bed were suddenly far too constricting, so she stripped them off without a thought, only to wince as her fingers bent awkwardly. Must have slept on them; there was no other reason for them to be so numb now.

Sighing, Elsa rose to her feet, sliding off the ridiculously large mattress. She hadn't wanted to move into the royal suite, much less stay in a bed that could easily hold twenty of her, but it was tradition. At least now with her secret out the servants could clean it regularly. She didn't miss the lengthy process of tucking in her sheets day and in and out, not when the practice had started when she was barely big enough to carry them.

She dressed with a wave of her hand, a gown of ice that needed no help to put on. Elsa admitted again that she didn't miss having to lace up her own clothes, however much it had taught her discipline as a child. Her mother had done it at first, but after her powers had become too erratic Elsa had begged to be allowed to do it herself. It had been an awful argument, and one that had ended in tears from both sides.

Yes, she remembered now, that had been right before they'd gone out to sea…

Lost in her memories, Elsa barely registered the sun filtering in through the curtains. When she did, she huffed to herself. While she'd always prided herself on being an early riser, it was near ridiculous how little sleep she would get after daybreak. Her body just rebelled against it, the nightmares about the battle worsening every hour she dared to sleep in.

No matter. She had a lot to get done today; the extra hours could only help her. Elsa clenched her still tingling hands and straightened. Yes.

She was going to—to figure out what to do!

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Waiting was one thing. Hesitating was another.

The morning rush of Anna and all that included, which happened to be three chickens and several large rocks on this day, swept Elsa away and almost kept her busy enough to forget the night before.

But not even Anna's attempts at a makeshift sling for her pet rocks could keep her mind from wondering.

What did one do in situations like this?

In preparations for queen, Elsa had been taught everything necessary for ruling a kingdom. Despite the fact that half her kingdom was still in snow and the other half was sopping wet from the battle between her and the Dragon Prince. The water damage had been extensive and much of the royal treasury was going towards compensating those whose homes were lost. But yet she was still a queen, even if it was a queen of a kingdom half ruined by her own hand.

She could do sums, negotiate trade agreements, decree all manner of laws, and even keep polite conversation up with visiting dignitaries for as long as needed. The last one had surprisingly come most in handy lately, although not in the way most would have expected. In fact, nothing about this was going the way anyone would have expected, much less Elsa.

And as usual, there was only one person to ask.

Anna stared at her as if she'd suddenly sprouted antlers. "Huh?"

The words had been on the tip of her tongue all day, and only now had they slipped, in the middle of Anna's rant about how those strange rocks of her were truly visiting relatives of Kristoff, a peculiar affair that Elsa told herself was likely her younger sister dealing with the stress of the past few days.

Straightening up, she repeated herself, "I was wondering if you knew the proper treatment for someone who is…sick."

"Well…uh, maybe? Wait, do you have a cold? Is it bad? Can you even get colds?"

"No, it's not for me! I've noticed some of maids looking off lately, and wondered if there was anything we could do to prepare the eventuality. After all, if anyone got a cold in this weather, it would likely be due to my…" Elsa trailed off, looking away. A small part of her felt guilty at the gasp Anna gave as she pieced it together.

"Oh! Oh….Well, I'm not exactly sure, but last time I was sick they gave me hot soup and some weird green herby stuff from the kitchens. You can go ask! The nice maids, not the ones that call you names behind your back, those lousy…" she snarled, looking mutinous. Elsa was beginning to rethink the logic of asking Anna for advice. "Hey, I can go ask with you and tell them off, let's go!" Anna grinned suddenly and grabbed her arm, dragging her forward. Elsa panicked at the sudden touch and pulled away.

The look on Anna's face almost made her wish she'd never asked this stupid question. "Sorry," Elsa began, icy hands clenched into white fists, "I'm just not…"

"Oh, um, yea…of course…"

The room went quiet for a bit, until Kristoff lumbered in, smiling and breaking whatever tension had been festering. While Anna found herself preoccupied by her paramour's enthusiastic entrance and subsequent kiss, Elsa slid to the side and left before anyone could notice her. Doubtless they would be busy for quite a while.

The kitchen were easy enough to find, and the help were frantic for a moment at the sight of her until she explained that she was only here to pick up some things. At this, they calmed, but still looked wary. Hopefully Anna had not reproached them yet, that would make everything dreadful and Elsa was determined to avoid that.

At the request of some herbs that would help with coughing, pleading that Anna wasn't feeling well, Elsa found herself being handed a great many substances. It appeared that the staff remembered the last time the princess had been ill, and did not care to repeat it.

"Yes, well, I do thank you for your…assistance, " Elsa said awkwardly as she attempted to balance the jars in her hands on her way out. They promised to send up a pot of soup later to her door, so she would be able to wait on her sister herself.

One of the cooks tittered, "Oh, it's not that we wouldn't if you ordered us, just that…oh, it's just that it's so much better if you do it yourself, your highness. If you really want to!"

Something told her that Anna had been less than a respectable princess the last time she'd fallen ill. Elsa sighed, struggling enough to carry the things, deciding that now was not the time to start worrying exactly what her sister had gotten up to during her isolation. She could have been sick dozens of time and Elsa would never have known. Or been any help.

Her spirits suddenly sagged and the jars of putrid smelling moss with it. Elsa yelped and struggled to get them back in order, pushing all thoughts of the past from her mind. No use of pondering her own shortcomings; that was an endeavor that would last quite into the night if she let it keep going.

By the time she reached her quarters, her arms were quite sore. Strange that she would be able to climb great distances across a frozen wasteland without stopping, but a few measly jars bogged her down. She groaned aloud. Irony at its finest.

But yet, as she hid them all away neatly behind her dresser...well, Elsa couldn't remember her hands ever feeling better.