Chapter Nine

Darkness.

Neither warm nor cold, beyond the concept of physicality, or the absence thereof.

A thought that pierced the dark more brilliantly than light glancing off ice.

A dream… a nightmare built of the screams of men and horses.

Without words that glint of form fought the void, embraced it, devoured it.

Revealing without remorse, without compassion or even pity.

Light.

Eyes pried themselves open, unwilling to see yet relentlessly driven to behold. A fierce need to survive, to comprehend that was every bit as compelling as hunger or thirst.

The light of thought become the light of day, leaping through an opening framed by wood. Drifting particles caught the light as it leaped, fracturing it into shattered rainbows. Gradually the particles resolved themselves into a physical form, something recognizable, described by a single word.

Out of the last remnants of the dark a word was born: snowflakes.

A sound spoke a word, one she did not yet recognize. She turned her head to the sound. The world spun, tilted, and heaved. She closed her eyes in self-defense, but the dark was waiting behind her lids. Screams and growls pounced upon the soft insides of her head. She popped her eyes open, letting the light chase them away and give her something else in return.

It leaned towards her, again making that sound. For a moment her mind twisted, replacing straw-color with red, making the living mass shrink from broad to slight, tall to small. For a moment, a young woman, near and dear to her, leaned over her and called a sound, a word, a name… her own name.

"Elsa…."

Elsa blinked, and the world righted itself with stomach-turning alacrity. It was not her sister Anna that leaned over her, but her sister's beloved, Kristoff. His nearness startled her, causing her to bolt upright. Pain exploded throughout her skull, raced down her spine, and threatened to toss out everything her stomach could possibly contain. Hands on her shoulders only increased the panic, the last year and a half of improvement erased beneath an onslaught of instinctive fear.

"Don't touch…!" she managed to gasp, but the effort of words nearly made her head explode. The gasp turned into a sob, which was then seized by the old habit of self-control.

Breath. In one breath, to a count of four, then out one breath, again to a count of four. The pain receded, allowing the world to return one careful concept at a time.

The horses, the men… screaming…? Why? Ah, because of the monstrosity, the beast made of snow and teeth and claws. An ice wall to shelter them. Then… what?

Elsa opened first one eye, then the other, surprised that they were closed to begin with. She avoided looking at Kristoff, staring instead at the posts standing sentinel at the foot of her bed. For a long moment she gazed at the frost decorating the wood without comprehending. Long moments passed before she could look beyond the posts, to a simple room of wood decorated with dancing snowflakes. Finally she made herself look at Kristoff.

Kristoff, her sister's beloved, a man she could not decide if she viewed as a brother or usurper. He sat there, mittened hands half outstretched, his mountaineer's cap slightly askew atop his straw hair. She stared for long moments at his thick hide coat, then at his heavy woolen trousers. His feet were out of sight, but she was suddenly certain he was wearing his hide boots with their curled toes so excellently designed for traipsing through snow.

Snow.

Her gaze wandered to the snowflakes that still spiraled lazily through the air, riding currents no one else could feel. The chill of her power danced erratically along her skin, had been doing so all along, she abruptly realized. Again she looked at her bed posts, saw the frost that clung to the frame, to the very blankets that covered her. Fear chilled her breath, yet a warm sense of awe made her turn to Kristoff once again.

"You… stayed," she managed to say. Words lay furry and thick on her tongue, moving only with great reluctance.

Kristoff blinked, leaning back with apparent reluctance. He appeared as though he would leap from his chair at the least sign of danger… yet he paid no heed to the danger that floated in the air about them, or to the splintered rainbows they inspired. "Well, yeh, we all stayed," he said in a distracted tone. "Beorne and his men, well most of them, are downstairs. They're just… oh. You mean in here. Just now." Now he glanced about, as though seeing the snow and frost for the first time. He flinched, but to his credit he did no more than that.

Elsa nodded once. Slowly. Even that small movement caused a dull ache to spike through her skull.

Kristoff smiled and gave an uncomfortable shrug. "I've been in on some of yours and Anna's snowball fights, remember? I've seen worse!"

"Arendelle…," she struggled with words. "Frozen."

He blinked, then nodded. "Yeh, that was definitely worse. But you were pretty scared, and with good reason." Absently he leaned to the side, pulling off a mitten so he could run a finger down a bed post. The frost melted readily beneath his touch, leaving a dark path amidst the light. "And look, this is already warming up. So yeh, no reason for me to run away." He tugged his mitten back on, then spread his hands with covered palms up. "Besides, Anna would kill me if I left you like this!"

Elsa's serious gaze made him clear his throat and glance away. "Others," she said, each word pulled carefully and with great effort from the dark, "stayed downstairs. Safer..."

Kristoff's nervous grin melted into a frown. He thought a moment, then said, "A few years back, Sven had this fever. He'd kick and shake his antlers in his sleep. I stayed by his side. Didn't even think of the danger to me. I just knew he needed me." Lifting his gaze to meet Elsa's, he added, "Just like when Anna's stayed by you, through that freaky cold and the storm and Ha-er, well, whenever you needed her."

It was Elsa's turn to look away. All that Anna had done for her… but Kristoff wasn't finished.

"Well, she'd be right here by your bed, taking care of you, regardless of what freaky ice stuff you threw out while you were unconscious. You mean as much to her as Sven means to me."

Elsa peered at him from the edge of her eye. He looked equally serious and silly, obviously meaning every word he said while simultaneously understanding how odd those words would sound to anyone who didn't know the history behind them. The corner of her mouth twitched into an acknowledging smile.

Kristoff relaxed slightly, seeing that smile. "And I know how much she means to you. I know I'm not Anna – thank goodness for that! 'Cause then you know I wouldn't be able to see her, 'cause she'd be me and I'd be her and…," he halted in a sudden stumble of words, mittened hand returning to his hair.

A warm flush of love eased the chill in Elsa's heart and melted the frost from her bed. The last of the snowflakes vanished with a last glitter of blue light. For the first time, she was seeing Kristoff not as an extension of Anna, but as a person in his own right. His honest earnestness, so like and unlike Anna's own determination, revealed the kindness beneath the gruff exterior. At that moment, she knew she would gladly accept him as her brother and love him as she loved her sister. It was a strange realization.

Unaware of Elsa's personal revelation, Kristoff gamely picked his words back up and sallied forth. "What I mean is, I know it'd be better for you if Anna was here, but I… we, I mean Beorne and his men and I, well we all thought it would be better for you to see a familiar face when you woke up. And we figured mine was the most familiar of the bunch." He shrugged, then in his usual honest way added, "Plus… I was worried. I mean, I know we haven't gotten to know each other much, but I kinda view you as a sister. Which is weird, 'cause I'm not used to having human sisters. Troll sisters, sure, but you're not a troll!"

"Try asking Anna," Elsa chuckled through her still-furry speech, "what I'm like... in the morning."

Kristoff crossed his arms, irritation flitting across his features. "Trolls are not bad-tempered in the morning! That's just a myth!"

She bowed her head in a pale imitation of her queenly nod. "Ogre, maybe?"

"Dragon, maybe. With indigestion." He unfolded his arms, a cautious smile warming his face again.

"So much mint needed," Elsa chuckled with much feeling but not much strength. The world seemed to slide sideways for a moment.

Alarm jerked Kristoff halfway out of his chair. "Oh man, I've made you talk too much! You should lay back down!"

"Barely… said… anything."

He shook his head. "You took a really hard hit to the head, Elsa. You should have seen Beorne's face when he saw you… I didn't think soldiers could turn that white!" He reached for her shoulder, pausing just before contact was made. His gaze lifted to peer at her face.

Elsa gazed at the space between hand and shoulder sadly, wondering if fear of physical contact would always plague her and those she cared about. Even as she thought that, though, his hand closed the space. It even applied gentle pressure, pushing her back into her bed. Elsa was too startled to protest.

"Rest," he ordered her. "I'll go get you some broth."

Her stomach growled. "Stew?" The dark was reclaiming her words again.

Kristoff shook his head. "Broth. When you can keep that down, then stew."

"Stew," she repeated sleepily. The rising dark muffled his steps as he moved to the door. It was only then that she thought to ask about Beorne and his men.

Then the dark swallowed even that thought.

The next waking was more normal, a gradual emergence from sleep to consciousness. A delicious smell filled her nose and lifted her into the light of day. She thought it was the same day, just a little later, but she wasn't certain. Her stomach growled, letting her know exactly of what she was certain.

Kristoff's cheerful laugh helped her focus her attention even more. "Sounds like someone's hungry!"

Daring a playful grin, Elsa asked, "Stew?"

His smile faltered slightly, then regained strength. "Nope, broth!" He held up a simple wooden bowl with one hand and waggled a wooden spoon with the other. "Think you can do it yourself, or do you need help? There's no shame in needing help. You've still got a lot of recovering to do."

"Let me try," Elsa commanded in her near-queen voice, then winced and added, "please?" She took the bowl from Kristoff's hands, surprised at the weight. It seemed no heavier than she expected, yet its solid presence made her hands tremble. Still, she was determined. For a moment she contemplated the spoon he offered, but then opted to drink directly from the bowl.

It was a near thing, but she managed to place the warm liquid in her body instead of on it. When the last drop was downed, she stared into its emptiness.

"Want more?" Kristoff asked, but hesitantly. "I'm not sure it'd be wise, but if you really want some..."

Elsa shook her head slowly. It still had to be slow, but at least she could do it multiple times without the world rocking like a ship on a stormy sea. "Just realizing," she said instead, "it was warm. How long was I… out?"

The mountaineer leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Only a few hours this time. A lot longer previously, and even longer before that. Once you said you were hungry, I just kept going down to the kitchen and getting the broth re-heated."

"Thank you. Very much," said Elsa with a heart full of gratitude and only slightly touched by embarrassment. Staring again at the empty bowl, she asked, "Kitchen… where are we? And what happened…? The last I remember is… my ice wall. And… a… a monster. Attacking the ice?"

Kristoff nodded. "That's about right. We were attacked by a snow monster – those teeth and claws were huge! You threw up that ice wall – which was amazing by the way! Then near as we can tell, we were attacked from behind. We all got knocked out at some point. Beorne was the last one of us standing, I think. He says he saw two, maybe three of those monsters. They started fighting each other. He says he went to knock an arrow, when one of the monsters backed right over him! One good kick to the head, then boom! Everyone was out like the night with no moon!"

"How?" Elsa started to inquire, looking about the room.

The mountaineer shrugged. "None of us knows. The innkeeper said he found us piled in a heap by his door. The best of us were groggy, the worst… well, you were the worst. Mostly the worst. Well, the worst we can be sure of."

Something in Elsa snapped to attention. Her tone immediately shifted to a more royal state, demanding rather than inquiring as she asked, "Mostly? Sure of?"

Kristoff sighed heavily, looking away. "We can't account for twelve men."

"Twelve…," Elsa repeated, the broth suddenly churning in her uneasy stomach.

"The innkeeper found us next to his doorway: you, me, Beorne, and three of his men. Sitting there with our backs to the wall like a bunch of drunks. His words, not mine."

The churning became a sudden, painful clamp of fear. Snowflakes sparked back into existence. Her brain kicked another concern into the open. "Sven? Our horses?"

Kristoff's shoulders immediately relaxed. "Sven's great, and palling it up with the horses – all of them, even your Snofonn – in the stables."

"Oh, thank goodness! But... Beorne's men…!"

He leaned forward a little, bracing his elbows on his knees. "If you feel up to it, we can head downstairs. I know Beorne will be happy to see you. His men, too. We've all been worried about you."

Elsa nodded, moving to swing her legs over her bed. The amount of effort that required, plus the realization she was just in a shift, caused her to pause. "My clothes?" she asked quietly.

Kristoff practically leaped out of his chair, blushing furiously. "Oh! Sorry! I'll go get the innkeeper's wife, she's the one that helped you before, with, uhm, y'know."

It wasn't a comfortable idea, being handled by strangers… but it was done, and no harm done. Elsa gave a grim nod, then offered a hesitant smile. "Thank you, Kristoff," she said.

"For what?"

"For staying. For… not being afraid, exactly, but… I know you did it for Anna, but..."

Kristoff paused, a hand resting on the door jam. "Yeh, I mean, I'm on this trip because of Anna, but," he paused, obviously searching for the right words. "I'm in this room because we're friends." His grin faltered as he realized he was looking straight at Elsa and that she was sitting upright in nothing but a light cotton shift. Coughing, he said, "Speaking of which, I'm gonna get out of this room so you can get dressed. See you in a bit. Gettin' the innkeeper's wife." So saying, he darted out the door.

The innkeeper's wife, when she arrived a short time later, proved to be a large, burly woman. She poked her head cautiously through the door, muttered something about no snowflakes, then barreled into the room. All of her movements were fast and abrupt. While the speed was alarming, it was also impersonal. The lack of immediate connection actually made acceptance easier. In quick order Elsa was dressed and cautiously heading out the door. The innkeeper's wife kept a cautious distance, especially after noticing the frosted hand prints that were being left on the walls.

The caution wounded her, yet it made her all the more aware of the fact that Kristoff had stayed in the room with her. Not Beorne or his men. Certainly not the innkeeper or his wife.

She found herself looking forward to telling Anna that she had apparently learned well from the disaster with Hans.

The stairs leading to the tavern were a challenge, made more so by the innkeeper's wife flinching every time Elsa staggered. From the corner of her eye, she could see the woman starting to reach for her, then snatching her hands back. A heavy sigh carried her the last couple of steps, whereupon she looked around the inn's common room.

A few tables away, Kristoff waved. He was sitting next to Beorne, and across from them sat the remaining three men. Seeing how few there were made Elsa's stomach drop. What had happened to the others? Swallowing the question, she approached the remainder of their expedition. The soldiers scrambled to stand at attention, but she waved them down. With great care she sat next to Kristoff. Leaning forward so she could see Beorne on the other side of the mountaineer, she greeted each man at the table.

They returned greetings cautiously. All but Kristoff glanced to her head. She reached to touch it ever so gingerly, then eyed each man in turn. When her eyes met with Beorne's, her captain bowed his head to her.

"How fare you, my Queen?" he asked, his voice as calm as ever. Elsa noted the whiteness of his knuckles, however, when she glanced at his clasped hands.

"Dizzy," she said honestly, "and hungry. But I have been told I should only drink broth for now."

"Bread should be okay, too," Kristoff interjected. "I went ahead and ordered some from the innkeeper."

The idea of hot, fresh bread made her mouth water and her stomach clench. "Thank you, Kristoff." Turning to Beorne and his men, she said, "And thank you, gentlemen. You fought bravely."

One of the men flinched. "So many of us down, though..."

Beorne's own face pulled into a frown made more fierce by the bristle of his mustache.

Elsa could feel an answering frown on her face. "Twelve men. Twelve of us. Is there no sign? No… hope?"

Beorne shook his head slowly, then straightened his shoulders. "No sign, but I would take that as a sign of hope, rather than lack of hope." The other three men also straightened their shoulders, as though the mere mention of hope triggered their own.

"A search party, then?" she asked

The Captain hesitated before answering. "I want to say yes, but I have many concerns. Not the least of which is determining where to search. This is a relatively new village, from what I understand. I'm not even sure which direction the castle lies." He looked to Kristoff.

The mountaineer shrugged. "That… storm… turned me all kind of ways around. I'm pretty sure which direction the castle is, but I haven't a clue what lies between us and it. I'm more familiar with the North mountain territory, rather than these Eastern mountains. I mean, I know I can get us home. It just may take a little longer getting there."

Captain Beorne shook his head. "Stay and search for men that have completely vanished, or go and search for a castle that has all but vanished." The longing in his voice leaned heavily on finding his missing men, while a kind of iron could be heard when he spoke of the castle.

Elsa could certainly identify with that conflict. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but a plate of hot bread was dropped before her with a clatter. Startled, she looked from the food to the towering man that had delivered it. He glared down at her with a kind of absent-minded irritability. It wasn't a look she was used to receiving as a queen. Without thought, her hand reached to her throat where a cabochon rested. It was the same royal gem she wore with her court gown.

The man failed to notice. "If'n it's a choice yer makin'," he growled, "Then head home. Yer men belong to th'Winter Witch now."

All bodies at the table jerked to alertness, although one wobbled slightly. She felt Kristoff's hand on her shoulder, steadying her. It was a larger hand than Anna's, but no less kind and gentle. That, more than the hand itself, balanced her. Even as she reoriented herself, she heard Captain Beorne's firm voice speak.

"Winter witch?" he prompted the innkeeper.

The tall, thick man nodded. "Aye. She's claimin' more as the winter wears on. Her and her monsters. We haven't seen but one trader of the four we'd been expectin', and none to come now that winter'll be reachin' high point soon. Passes normally close 'round this time. We're all hopin' they'll reopen again, come spring-time."

"What do you know of the monsters?" asked Captain Beorne cautiously.

"Eh, same as ye'll, I suppose. Beasts made of snow and fur and fangs. T'be honest, I'm surprised any of ye'll made it."

"We had help," Elsa said, startling herself as she spoke aloud. All eyes turned to her. "Or at least an interruption. Something attacked us from behind while we were facing one of those monsters."

The innkeeper snorted, unimpressed. "Is that how you got such a knock to the head, missy?"

Captain Beorne and his soldiers spluttered, nearly choking on a shared outrage. Kristoff made a distinct snickering sound. With a raised hand, Elsa shushed the soldiers. Her true blue gaze remained on the innkeeper as she answered, "It is very likely. So you're recommending we forget our men and simply head home… even though we're not entirely sure which direction 'home' is at this point?"

He grunted and rubbed the back of his neck. "Put blunt like that, sounds a bit off I s'pose. But it is what I'd do. Not a one that's been caught by the Winter Witch's been returned."

Rubbing his mustache, Captain Beorne said, "We've heard of one who did. A trader, used to have many dogs, but only one survived?"

"Oh, aye. Ol'Franco, that were. He were lucky, was with the Snow Crow."

Six pairs of eyes blinked. Kristoff was the first to speak this time. "Snow Crow? That's the first we've heard of this?" He looked around the group to confirm. Nods and shrugs answered him.

The innkeeper shrugged, an impressive feat with those broad, thick shoulders. "Aye. If the Crow's with'em, come the storms, then odds are high whoevers with'em'll survive.

Captain Beorne barked, "Where do we find this 'Snow Crow'?"

At this the innkeeper finally laughed, a rough woofing sound that seemed to make light of Captain Beorne's own commanding bark. "Good luck findin' that one! Snow Crow finds you, not the other way around." He placed broad hands on the table, looming over them all as he leaned in. "Some's say that the Crow brings the storms, rather than th'other way around." Straightening again, he let loose another of those brawling laughs. With a jaunty wave he left them to tend to another table.

"Well that was completely not helpful," Kristoff grumbled. "So let me get this right… we're now dealing with a 'Snow Crow' as well as a 'Winter Witch' that isn't Elsa-"

"Mind yourself!" growled Captain Beorne.

"What? It's true!"

"He does have a point, Captain," Elsa commented. A wave of weariness suddenly washed over her. Both men ceased glaring at each other, turning to Elsa in concern. She waved them off. "I guess I need more rest than I realized, gentlemen." She rubbed her aching head, not noticing the tiny snowflakes that drizzled from her fingers.

Kristoff began pushing her gently out of the booth. "Of course, of course! Let's get you settled!" He helped her up the stairs, every bit as solicitous as he was with Anna although without the flirting and teasing. When she made it to her bed, she lay down as she was, clothes and all. Her eyes drifted shut, her last coherent thought centering around the bread she had neglected to eat.

Back in the tavern room, Captain Beorne glared at where Kristoff and Elsa had disappeared upstairs. His mustache and mutton chops flared as he clenched his teeth. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he was doing and forced himself to relax. He heaved a great breath and rubbed his temple. Turning to his confused men, he straightened himself into a more disciplined bearing.

"Men," he said, "it looks like we have a Snow Crow to hunt down while our Queen recuperates."

All three men brightened, eager to be given tasks they could understand.