Meltdown

by Concolor44

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Chapter 9: Explanation

I would recommend continued vigilance.

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Monday 26 July 1841, 8:55am

The three stared at Carlos for a few seconds before Jørgen declared, "I'm calling bullshit on that."

"Jørgen!" objected Elsa. "Language!"

"Sorry, Your Majesty."

The Spaniard shrugged. "If that is your wish. You wanted to know my age and I told you." He speared a slice of apple and popped it into his mouth.

Anna piped up, "So what do you do? I mean, Elsa could frost her crib practically from birth and make snow when she was barely a year old. If you don't do ice …"

He swallowed, took a sip of the thin wine they'd been served, and said, "Fire."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Fire."

"Yes."

"In what way?"

"I can produce it and direct it at will. I can make it hot enough to fuse sand into glass, or large enough to immolate a small valley." Half his face grinned ruefully. "What I can't do is keep it from burning my clothes off."

Practically in unison, Anna and Elsa colored and glanced away.

"I'd like to see some proof," said the Captain.

"Very well. I will be happy to give you a larger demonstration later, when we are no longer in mixed company, but if I concentrate and keep the flame very small …" He held out a hand and frowned, whereupon a small, yellow-white flicker appeared in his palm. "I understand," he said tightly, watching the flame closely, "that you, my Queen, are unaffected by cold."

Elsa stared at the flame, entranced. "… Yes. That is so." She could feel the magic flowing through him, wild and fierce, and the thought that bubbled up was, I'm not alone!

"Neither does heat bother me." He carefully tended the fire, allowing it to float up a handspan above his palm and making it into a ball. "But the fire wants to get away from me. It wants freedom so badly, and I have to fight it."

Elsa nodded. "I understand. So well do I understand that feeling."

Carlos clenched his fist and the light went out, a puff of smoke wafting upward.

Anna said, "Elsa!"

That startled her. "What?"

"Make a snowball!"

"… Um."

"Please! Just make one."

Elsa did, and had it hover in front of her over the table. "Okay. What now?"

"Now, Mister … de …"

"Carlos."

"Right, yeah. Carlos, make your fire again."

He sighed and concentrated once more, and soon the ball of flame danced above his hand.

"Okay, Elsa, put the snowball on the fire."

"… What for?"

"I wanna see what the combination does."

"It will make a large quantity of steam," replied Carlos, grinning a little. "I have used my flame on snow before."

"But you haven't used it on hers." She tossed a dried fig into her mouth and looked back and forth between them, eyes sparkling as she chewed.

The two of them blinked at her, both of them considering …

The snowball lofted over and intersected the ball of flame.

The resulting silent detonation of pure light left Jørgen and the Princess blinking purple spots from their eyes.

Anna jumped up anyway, clapping. "Wheeeeeeee! That was great!"

Elsa and Carlos were both shuddering in their seats, eyes and mouths wide open.

The Rush …

The Ecstasy …

The Release …

They were audibly panting, and as soon as she noticed, Anna placed a worried hand on her sister's arm. "Hey, you okay?"

The Queen recovered first and turned to her. "… Anna …" She had to swallow a couple of times and refocus her eyes. "Anna. How did you know …"

"I didn't. I just wanted to see what happened when two different magicks went criss-cross."

Carlos was having a great deal of trouble regaining his balance. Hamaraja's prophecy came to him again: "One day you will meet a woman who is your equal in every way. A thousand-thousand souls will thrive or perish depending on how you react and what you do."

"Sir?" inquired the Captain, "are you well?"

"… I never … felt … anything like that …" He was afraid to meet Elsa's eyes, afraid of what he might see there … afraid of what he might not see.

"I think …" said Elsa at length, "that we should … avoid doing that again … for now."

For now? Carlos could hear the uncertainty, the longing in her voice, for it was reflected in his very heart. But he made himself nod. "I think that would be wise." He drew a couple of deep breaths and sat up very straight. "Thank you, Anna, for that … instructive episode."

"Yes," agreed Elsa, fighting the color that stubbornly crept into her cheeks, "thank you."

Jørgen swallowed a jam-laden bit of puff paste and cleared his throat. "Last night you were going to tell us why you came to Arendelle in the first place."

Carlos blinked at him. Come on, brain, pull it together! "Ah. Yes. Yes, I wanted to do that." He refocused, finally, and frowned. "I, ah, have a number of different … identities in various places around Europe. That is an unavoidable outcome of living three or four normal lifetimes."

"So you say."

Carlos smirked, intrigued. "Why do you doubt me? I have no reason to lie."

"It's a bit too fanciful. Let's just say I never met an immortal before."

"So the fire and the healing and the strength are perfectly normal?"

Jørgen's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "Okay. Your point."

"The Fey are immortal, as far as I know. I have only ever met one, and have no desire to do so again. He was completely terrifying. But I'm not immortal. Just durable."

Anna asked, "Are the trolls related to the Fey?"

"I would assume so. They wield innate magic. But they aren't a part of the High Courts, so they aren't immortal. Long-lived and tough, yes, but they do age and die eventually, as I expect I will."

"Yeah, they're pretty tough. And heavy. They're rocks."

"Well, dense, anyway. If they were truly rock they couldn't be …" He stopped himself, about to finish with 'alive', but then recalling Olaf. "Hmm. I may have to rethink some of the things I thought I knew about the Fey." Looking at Elsa, he asked, "Did you intentionally make Olaf to be … alive? He's self-aware, and intelligent – well, sort of – and has all the standard qualifications, except that he's made of snow."

Shaking her pretty head, Elsa replied, "No, I didn't know I was doing anything but building a snowman."

"You meant for Marshmallow to be alive, though," interjected Anna. "You told him to kick us out, and boy did he!"

Coloring again, Elsa said, "I'm very sorry about that. I was trying … if I'd known how …"

Anna reached over and gave her sister a quick squeeze. "I know, we talked all that to pieces already. It's okay, really, since it all worked out and stuff." She turned to Carlos. "There's another snowman up at Elsa's ice palace. He's alive, too."

A puzzled expression clouded Carlos's face. "Ice palace?"

Elsa cocked her head at Anna. "You know, I never did repair that place. And I'm sure it's still full of snow from the winter storms. Maybe after the wedding I can see to that." She got a slightly dreamy expression. "It would be a great place to go to relax."

Carlos shook his head. "We got off topic. Sorry about that. Okay, the reason I came to Arendelle was to warn you about an attempt on your life."

Jørgen leaned back and laughed at that. "And you succeeded handsomely, I'd say."

"I'm sorry. I didn't have a time frame, just a threat I'd intercepted."

"From whom?"

"Ah … well, that is to say …"

"Friend of yours?"

"Under no circumstances. But, look, he's doing this on his own hook as far as I know, so I'm pretty sure the Pope doesn't even know anything about …"

"The Pope!" exclaimed Elsa. "Why would … wait, you said …"

"Not the Pope. Cardinal Papella. He's the Pope's personal secretary, and a thoroughgoing bastard of the first water, but Gregory XVI has been too busy worrying about the rebellions in Spain and Portugal, and all that trouble brewing in Austria that's been spilling over into Italy, to care what happens here. I don't think he's even taken an official stand one way or another on the question of your powers, my Queen."

That, thought Elsa, was fortunate. What she did not need, now or ever, was some big brouhaha with the Catholic Church over whether or not she was a sorceress. "I see. Well. It seems you already neutralized the threat."

"Two of them, maybe. But …"

"Two?"

"… Ah. The assassins and the huge influx of criminals."

"I knew that was you," said Jørgen, pointedly.

"Um. One does what one may. In any case, we can't discount the possibility that he may have another arrow or two nocked. I would recommend continued vigilance."

A barked laugh signaled Jørgen's reaction to that statement. "Truly? I'd never have thought of that."

Anna asked, "But why you?"

"Beg pardon?"

"You said you intercepted a message?"

"Yes. I was acting as a courier."

"A courier? Whatever for?"

"Ah … well, you must understand a few things." He clasped his hands and leaned on the table. "When you have as much time on your hands as I do, sometimes you try new things to keep it fresh. I had left my estates in Spain and traveled to Rome to get away from that annoying civil war currently tearing up the countryside."

"You didn't want to fight in it?" Jørgen wanted to know. "Seems to me you could have decided a few battles single-handedly."

Carlos shook his head. "It's not up to me. I once did that, a long time ago, which is how I won my lands in the first place, because I was born a peasant. I was knighted on the field and later awarded an estate."

"An estate? So you are rich."

"Well, as to that, yes, but it came through time and effort. By trading and investing, I built up my wealth to … rather embarrassing heights. The disagreement powering the conflict in Spain right now is almost entirely clerical in nature and of no interest to me. I paid a bribe to both sides to leave my lands alone, and took my leave."

"Clerical," mused Elsa. "So … you are Catholic, though, are you not?"

"My Queen, I am a soldier and a Christian, and a very, very simple one. I eschewed the use of further labels many, many years ago."

She found herself inordinately pleased with that admission, but hid her smile.

"So. As I said, this Cardinal has an unhealthy fascination with your abilities. He refers to you in his letters as the Ice Witch."

"I am no witch!"

"This I know. You are Fey-touched. And from what I gathered in visiting several taverns when I first got here, your actions in nearly offering up your own life in defense of your people – more than once – were as Christ-like as any I have ever seen. I am not worried for the state of your soul."

She blushed and dropped her eyes.

Anna's fork clattered to her plate. She pointed at Elsa and crowed, "That's what I said! Isn't that what I said, Jørgen? And the bishop agreed with me, too!"

"Anna, please," begged Elsa. "Can we change the subject?"

Jørgen asked, "So did you ever have to use your fire powers in battle?"

A sober expression came to rest on Carlos's features. "Have to? Doubtful. Did? Yes. Once."

"I take it the results weren't what you desired?"

"No. I have been in hundreds of battles through some fifteen wars on three continents, and lost count of the number of men I killed a century and a half back. That is what comes with being a successful warrior, and the vast majority of them, I do not regret. What I do regret is telling my liege lord one time of my abilities."

"And he insisted you use them?"

"He did."

"And a lot of men died?"

"Unnecessarily. I wanted to demonstrate to the opposing force that our superior powers could crush them. See, that lord had two sorcerers working for him, and they had cast a plague on some of our men. So my lord wanted them dead."

"God, I hate sorcerers! I was in an army that faced off against one once."

"Really?" asked Carlos, suddenly interested. "What happened?"

"He summoned a demon."

"Oh, ouch."

"No shi- um …" Giving Elsa's suddenly-stern face a glance, he amended, "no kidding."

"How'd you …"

"We had some archers with blessed arrows. They sneaked into the other army and managed to kill the sorcerer."

"Good."

"So what happened with you?"

Carlos didn't say anything for a few seconds, then, "The fire got away from me."

"… Oh."

He drew a long breath. "The sorcerer tried to take my fire, and it resisted. I lost control. The entire opposing army – and some miles of countryside beyond them – was consumed."

Things were quiet for a bit as they all absorbed that. Finally Carlos admitted, "I've never used it offensively since."

"And that was the only time?"

"Oh, no. When I was young, about fourteen, some three years after I was run out of my village, I …"

"What?"

He looked over at Elsa. "Um … I was about four when I discovered I could make a spark pop out the end of my finger. It was fun, and I started setting things on fire. I burned down half the village, but nobody found out I had done it, and it scared me so badly I repressed it hard for years. When I was eleven, this gang of thugs cornered me and started to beat me up, and the fire … erupted. Burned my clothes off and killed the whole gang. But some of the villagers saw, and … well." He took a drink and then stared into the glass. "I spent the next few years on the run."

"My Lord!" exclaimed the Queen, "How did you survive?"

"Barely."

"That's horrible!"

"So is what you went through." He glanced up and caught her eyes. "I was frequently hungry. But you were always alone."

She grew very quiet at that.

Carlos cleared his throat and took another sip. "So. I was in Navarre somewhere, trying not to starve when a couple of young men I thought were friendly took me by surprise. Got knocked on the head and press-ganged onto a merchant ship. I came to my senses chained to an oar bench. I, ah, lost my temper, you could say."

Anna, who seemed utterly captivated by these stories, asked breathlessly, "Did you sink the ship?"

"That one? No. I melted the chains off, killed the taskmaster, the captain, and the first mate, and took control of the ship. I knew enough to head south, away from the English, and the rest of the men on board were all convinced I was a demon and so did anything I told them to do."

"Where'd you sail to?"

"Heh. Not far at first. The very next day we ran afoul of a French patrol frigate. She fired on us. I returned the favor."

Jørgen nodded. "And that ship sank."

"What was left of it did."

"Now I really have to see a demonstration."

"We can arrange that. If you've got a remote valley with nothing in it, or a barren crag you think you can do without." He finished his wine and leaned back. "A few weeks later we ran the ship aground off Morocco. I don't know where everyone else went, since no one would talk to me, but I stayed in the area for a few months regaining my strength, then wandered off into the desert."

"How," asked Elsa, "did you learn you could heal yourself? That doesn't seem connected to fire in any way."

"Oh, it's not. I, ah, traveled extensively, somewhat later in life. I met the first other Fey-touched in the Punjab, a man named Hamaraja. He was about four hundred years old at the time."

"Oh, my."

"He was very wise. While I could wield fire, his gifts lay in Farsight and Prophecy. He also knew a very great deal about how to use the mind like a tool. One of the things he taught me was the creation of the Healing Aura. The human body is amazingly easy to piece back together given the right motivation."

Anna held up a finger. "But regular humans can't do it?"

"I've never met one that could learn the trick." He canted his head a bit and regarded her closely enough that she felt the need to fidget. "You might be a special case, though, given that Elsa's your sister. We can try, if you like."

"Okay. But teach her first." She reached over and took Elsa's hand. "If there are gonna be assassins after her, I want her to be able to fix any damage they do."

"An excellent suggestion."

"I concur," said Jørgen.

"So …" Elsa paused, mulling over her next question. "So, did he teach you any other … what I mean is, I was told that you … jumped over the high wall."

"Well … climbed it very quickly might be more accurate. Are you referring to my enhanced strength?"

She nodded.

"That simply develops over time. You will get stronger, too, just as your powers will."

"My powers?"

"Yes. My fire and my strength have increased with age. At the moment I am somewhere between four and five times as strong as a strong man, and my flame can be more than twice as potent as it was a hundred years ago. Given how amazing your abilities are at your tender years, I should think that, given a hundred years or so, you would be able to freeze the entire continent solid if you felt so inclined."

Elsa got a panicked look on her face. Frost covered the table. Ice crept across the floor.

"Elsa!" cried Anna, "what's wrong?" She grabbed her sister in a hug, heedless of the frigid condition of her skin. "Elsa, listen! It's okay! We're safe."

Turning brimming eyes on her younger sister, the Queen stood and embraced her. The ice stopped spreading. She whispered, "A hundred years."

Anna pulled back far enough to look her in the eyes. "What?"

"A hundred years. Or two hundred." She turned her head to stare at Carlos, who looked none too sanguine about his position. "You're over two hundred years old."

"… Yes?"

"How long will you live?"

"I'm not sure. Probably somewhere between one and two thousand years."

Elsa squeezed Anna tightly, buried her face in the shorter girl's shoulder, and sobbed.

Carlos caught Jørgen's eye and made a gesture of confusion. The Captain shrugged, just as lost as the other man.

The tableau held for most of a minute before Elsa rounded on her visitor. "You mean to tell me," she queried, between sniffles, "that I'm going to outlive all my family?"

Oh! So that's it! He cleared his throat. "Well … yes. If you can avoid dying by accident or murder. It comes with the Fey heritage." He spread his hands. "I'm very sorry. It isn't anything I have any control over, any more than you do."

Haunted eyes held his. She whispered, "How do you bear it?"

Dropping his gaze to the frost-covered table, he considered his answer before opening his mouth. "My … early life was very different from yours. You have been sheltered in more ways than one. By the time I had turned twenty-one, Death was an old friend … or at least a constant companion. I had killed nearly five hundred men and seen ten times that many die. If I wanted to preserve my sanity, I had no choice but to become a little hard." Directing his stare to a spot somewhere past her shoulder, he continued, "I've been married twice. My first wife, Julia, was … not strong. We had one child, and that laid her low for months. She died of a fever when the boy was seventeen. I was fifty-three when we married and had realized shortly afterwards that I was not aging like other men. I began bleaching my hair to hide my youth, but …" He sighed and tapped a finger on the table a few times. The frost whiffed to steam within a foot of his hand, and he frowned and clenched his fist. "Sorry. These memories are largely unpleasant. I arranged to pass on my lands to my son, Paulo, when he was twenty-one, and then I planned out my murder."

"Your what?"

"To leave him the free and clear owner, I faked my death. After that, I traveled into the …"

There was a commotion outside the door, which then burst open, admitting a guard, who pulled up very short at the sight of Carlos standing with his blades drawn, and Elsa with slitted eyes and blue swirls of magic around her hands. "Um … Sir! Come quickly!"

The Watch Captain jumped up and trotted around the table. "What is it?"

"The prisoners, Sir, they're gone!"

Anna gasped. Elsa and Carlos looked at each other.

Jørgen asked, "Which ones?"

"The assassin, and ten others, nine of the thieves we had caught …" He cast a brief, fearful glance at Elsa. "… and Prince Hans."

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