Author note: As you read in "The Unlikely Heroes of Arendelle," I mistakenly thought that Marshmallow was gone. He's still gone in this story. Also, I drafted this chapter before seeing "Frozen Fever," and so before I knew Olaf had 1000 little brothers who live in Elsa's ice palace. The point is, Elsa's ice palace is empty, and she can be alone there.
Chapter 14 – The North Mountain
Elsa pulled the hood further down over her hair as Bern drove the carriage along the outskirts of Arendelle Village, towards the east road that wound through the Albion Basin and up the valley that eventually led to the North Mountain. She wore a plain, brown traveling dress with an unadorned brown cloak. Her councilors, Anna, Gerda and Kristoff all insisted she couldn't go alone this time, and it had been easier to cooperate than to argue. So she insisted Bern be the one to accompany her, thinking that would prevent him from dueling with Prince Dominic in her absence. They'd agreed so quickly she suspected that had been the plan all along. Olaf was behind the seat, having exhausted his chatter about how he loved everything about what was going on. Bern told him he couldn't sit on the roof of the carriage until they were away from people who might recognize them. Her departure had to be kept secret.
Whatever had been in that drink Gerda had given her yesterday was still coating her thoughts with fog, and she kept silent, still half in a daze. Instead of thinking, she was noticing everything around her in great detail, the amount of leaves on the trees they were passing, the variety of colors in the wildflowers lining the road, the call of birdsong floating through the trees, the clop of the horse's hooves on the hard-packed dirt road, the smell of dirt and growing things. If she spent the rest of her life on the North Mountain, then this was the last time she would see any of that. She loved summer as much as Olaf did, and the North Mountain would be nothing but winter forever. So she bid farewell to summer as they drove.
A few hours later, they stopped for a quiet lunch, and when they continued their journey, Bern told Olaf he could sit on the roof if he wanted. Bern boosted him up, and Olaf happily regaled them with a description of everything he could see and how much he loved it. Elsa smiled, listening to him.
Then she remembered she owed Bern an apology for propositioning him. "Bern, I'm sorry for what I asked you to do the other day. I'm glad you refused, but I shouldn't have asked in the first place," Elsa said.
"Apology accepted; please don't worry about it," Bern said.
"I was two people that night, and I was trying to make both of them happy instead of choosing between them," Elsa said. The idea of being two people had been growing ever since she'd tried to explain the feeling to Bern that night. The Queen of Arendelle had been in charge for her entire life. Elsa hadn't even known there was another version of herself until this past year, after she'd come out of hiding and started interacting with people who knew about her magic. The Queen of Arendelle didn't like Elsa very much; she disapproved of mistakes, magic and happiness. Elsa was afraid of the Queen of Arendelle, which set up some strange echoes in her head that she couldn't entirely blame on the drug Gerda had given her.
Bern only nodded. He was being very quiet on this drive, and Elsa appreciated that she didn't have to try and make conversation unless she wanted to. Her mind was still moving sluggishly, throwing up a random thought here and there, and then retreating back behind that ice wall that kept her feelings at bay. She was glad it had returned; she couldn't bear the weight of feeling again. The monotonous movement of the carriage lulled her into half a doze, and she nodded off against Bern's shoulder, jerking upright when they hit a bump, and then fading out again. Every so often she heard Olaf counting butterflies.
"I'm still angry with you, you know," Elsa said when a bump in the road woke her up again.
"Oh?"
"You thought I would arrest you because of the economy and you didn't even expect me to be understanding or give you a chance to fix the problem, Bern. That was very unjust of you. You've helped me so much, and the one time I would have a chance to help you, you assumed I would arrest you."
"I'm sorry about that comment, Elsa. I was very low when I made it, and before we left, I got a chance to rip Kristoff's ears off for repeating it," Bern said.
"I would have liked to hear that," Elsa said.
"It's probably better that you didn't," Bern replied.
He hadn't said that he knew she would never have arrested him, though, he just said he was sorry she'd heard the comment. The thought went bumping up against the ice wall around her heart, and feelings started to leak through. Anger.
"You shouldn't have even thought it, Bern," she snapped at him. "It was your mother that committed the crimes. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew you would be blamed for it. Why did you think I would play into her hands and punish you for what she did?"
"In a way, it was my fault. I should have kept closer track of what she was doing and stopped her sooner," Bern said.
"So that was your crime? You trusted your mother to not deliberately ruin your life? You think I would have put you in a dungeon to punish you for trusting your mother to act like a mother instead of like an enemy?" Elsa's voice was spiraling higher. The floor of the carriage started to ice over.
"I'm sorry, Elsa, I should have known you would have seen the truth."
He was patronizing her to try and get her to calm down. Really, he thought she would have arrested him because of what his mother had done. That's what he thought of her. The ice wall around her heart blew apart in a blast of anger and Elsa threw her hands out and a barricade of ice spikes erupted at the side of the road.
The horse whinnied, reared and bolted. Elsa threw a spray of ice at the sky as she lost her balance and fell backwards off the seat. Bern kept a steady pull on the reins and managed to keep the carriage from overturning until the horse outran his panic and slowed again. When the horse slowed to a stop, Bern leaped out of the carriage. "Olaf? Are you still up there?"
Olaf was a hundred yards behind them, scurrying up as fast as his snowballs could go.
"Elsa, what was that about?" Bern sounded upset.
Elsa got out of the carriage too, hands balled into fists, fighting the desire to throw those ice spikes at Bern. She was so angry she wanted to hurt someone, and Bern was the only available target. "I wouldn't hold you responsible for what your mother did, Bern! It wasn't your fault and you shouldn't have to suffer because of her! It wouldn't be fair! How could you think I would be so unfair!?" By this time, Elsa was screaming at him, and when she raised her hands against him, he grabbed her palms and wouldn't let go. She struggled, trying to break free from him, but he just held on tighter. Her magic and anger couldn't get past Bern's grip.
"It isn't fair!" she screamed at him one last time before she started to sob.
"No, it isn't fair. It isn't fair that your father consorted with black magic and you've paid the penalty for it every day of your life while he waltzed through life acting like he had no idea what was wrong. It wasn't one bit fair, and you should be angry about it," Bern said. He turned her around so he could hold her while still not releasing the palms of her hands. "You, of all people, would be merciful in a situation like that, and it was my own error to think differently. Of course you would never do to me what your father did to you. But you're angry at him right now, not me."
Elsa had never been able to cry when she was a child, and it seemed she was trying to make up for all those lost opportunities. Bern let go of her hands and she could get her arms around him and let him hold her while the anger dissolved into tears. Olaf eventually caught up to them and patted her skirt with a twig hand, his big mouth sad with concern.
She cried herself out, her tears soaking through his jacket. The ice wall around her heart was back, but she didn't trust it anymore. "Bern, I have to go alone from here. I was so angry that I actually wanted to hurt you, and I don't trust myself not to do it next time."
"We're close to the snowline, Elsa. Can I get you as far as the snowline?"
"No, I might hurt you. I've hurt Anna; please don't give me the opportunity to hurt you too." If the ice wall broke again, she didn't know what would happen – ice spikes, snow monsters, deep freezes, magical blasts through the heart. She knew she was capable of hurting people she loved who were only trying to help her.
"All right," he said, and she relaxed to have his permission. "Let me get you a few things."
"Will you be all right?" she asked.
"I've spent a few weeks camping in the snow with Kristoff. I'll be fine," Bern replied.
"Can we make the bonfire taller than me, Bern?" Olaf asked.
"Sure, Olaf, go find some wood."
Elsa wished she could stay and see if the fire worked for her, but it was better not to try. She was out of control again, and the fire knew that and would withhold its warmth.
Bern packed a shoulder bag with a sack of food, a waterskin, and a folded gray cloak.
"You'll need the cloak more than I will, Bern."
"Take it anyway. I brought that one for you, so you would have something softer than ice in your palace, and a reminder that I'm here," Bern said.
Elsa nodded, slung the bag over her shoulder, and turned to go.
"If you need my help, send up one of your big snowflakes and I'll come get you."
Elsa nodded again. No one could help her; that's why she was leaving. Elsa was done with the struggle to be part of the human race.
~###~
Once she got to the snowline, the magic in her feet skimmed her along quickly. She didn't get tired and she never broke through the top inch of snow. She floated along, leaving barely a footprint in reality anymore, her heart lighter with every step. Bern never should have brought her back to Arendelle last summer. She was going home now, to a place where the Queen of Arendelle couldn't follow her with talk of duty and control.
Elsa was breathless with anticipation by the time she reached her staircase, her ice palace glowing in the afternoon sun above her. She'd never seen it from the outside. For a few minutes, she simply stood and admired it, the way it shimmered in the sunshine, pouring in graceful lines from the spire to the mountainside. Maybe she couldn't paint or embroider, but she had artistry inside her somewhere.
As she started up her staircase, she saw a broken place in the banister and wondered what had happened. She paused and almost repaired it, and then decided that she didn't want to make it look like nothing had happened. Up until then, she'd conveniently forgotten that there were terrible memories here as well, and this broken staircase was the first reminder. Some of her anticipation disappeared. This wasn't just her sanctuary anymore; it was also where she'd nearly killed Anna for the second time in her life, and where she'd been attacked too. Not only by those men from Weselton, either – she remembered the spikes her palace grew, the way the ice darkened and cracked, her fear and despair when she'd realized her palace wouldn't protect her. She unfolded Bern's cloak and swung it around her shoulders before she entered her palace.
The immense doors opened at her touch. The main level was as beautiful as she remembered it, with the snowflake pattern pressed into the floor and the graceful arch of the double staircase. She walked around the fountain, every perfect drop still frozen in place, and breathed in the vastness of this main hall. All the bad memories were up the stairs. There was no reason to go up there.
Elsa created a throne from ice and padded it with snow. Leaving Bern's cloak on the floor, she sat down on the throne and took several deep breaths, wondering when her palace would feel like a sanctuary again. Right now it was just a place; that feeling of safety and freedom she'd expected wasn't here.
She had created this palace to celebrate her real self, free from the secret that had controlled her entire life. Over this past year, the freedom from her secret had soaked through every aspect of her life, dissolved in the honesty of friendship and love. She didn't need a defense and a sanctuary anymore. That feeling of safety was the flip side to the constant fear of her childhood. Without the fear, the safety was gone too.
Truly, she hadn't been safe here. The safety was an illusion, made up of as many lies as her fear. She'd insisted Anna wasn't safe here, but neither was she, isolated and alone in this palace. This palace was her power, divided between beauty and threat, the same division that split her life in two. This main level was beautiful and serene; the upper level hid the fight and torment.
Suddenly Elsa did want to see the upper level. She took Bern's cloak with her. Holding up her brown skirt to keep from tripping, she went up the stairs, starting with the smaller antechamber she'd intended to use as a bedroom. A vase of flowers, sculpted from ice, still stood on a table with an ice mirror. A canopied bed and snowy chair looked exactly as they had when she'd made them a year ago, still frozen and perfect.
Elsa stood at the door and looked at the room that opened onto the balcony. Ice spikes and shields of ice marred the perfect lines of the floor. Her balcony doors were shattered; the ice that had nearly pushed the man from Weselton to his death still blocked the view. The spears that had trapped the other man from Weselton were still embedded in the ice wall. Her chandelier lay in broken chunks across the floor. This room bore testimony to the worst day of her life.
All that broken ice brought back the shock of knowing someone wanted to kill her – how the hatred hurt as badly as the arrows would have. While she'd stopped the arrows, she hadn't been able to stop the hatred. Even now, it made her sick to think they'd wanted to kill her and there was no one to stop them except herself and those terrible powers that had caused the hatred in the first place.
Elsa began to weep. She'd quit on her future; that's why she was here. She'd struggled all year to leave the past in the past and be someone besides the girl who had spent thirteen years behind a closed door, but the truth was the past would always be looming over her present, poisoning it with regret, injustice, fear and isolation. It wasn't the ice and snow that made life intolerable; it was her past she couldn't live with. All those years of her childhood, with Anna knocking on the door. She'd refused to answer her own sister. That could never be undone; the years could never be reclaimed. She would never hear her father say he was sorry. Her mother would never tell her that she loved her, and that it was all right to make it snow. Her parents had never accepted her, and that couldn't change.
She would never spend childhood and youth learning to ride a horse, garden, sew, paint or play with a ball or climb trees. She had no childhood friends, no happy memories that were more than a year old. Always her hands would be unskilled. Always she would struggle harder than anyone else to relate to people. The future couldn't change her past. Getting rid of her magic wouldn't change her past.
Sometimes it seemed the only way to destroy her past was to destroy herself. She thought of it briefly. It would be easy to fall off her balcony, down into the mist in the crevasse. The thought slipped away as quickly as it came. She wouldn't do that to Anna. She never had understood why Anna loved her, but she knew she did. Anna wasn't sad about all those lost years. Bern, Kristoff, even Gerda and the others, accepted her ice and snow. Knowing that helped, but it wasn't enough. They couldn't carry this burden for her.
Elsa slid down to the floor, put her hands over her face and wailed out loud, like a small child. She wished she could start over, wipe her life clean and begin again and get it right this time.
"Can anyone help me? Please help me," Elsa pleaded to no one, breaking under the weight of her past.
The shattered room stood impassive. It could not be undone.
"Oh God, I can't change it, but I can't stand to live with it any longer, and I don't know what to do anymore," Elsa cried, and it became a prayer. As deep honesty often did, Elsa's admission unlocked the key to genuine change.
The ice glowed. The broken chandelier, the shields and spikes littering the floor, the smashed balcony, all the worst things in her life were infused with a numinous Presence. He waited for Elsa to notice He was there.
At first, Elsa thought that it felt like Anna was in the room, or Bern, or Kristoff or Olaf. But it was more than the love she felt from them. They each had hints and pieces of this Presence, but this was the source, the wholeness. She looked around at the glowing ice. It was as if Someone was just out of sight because she could not bear the glory of His presence, and He sent only this feeling to draw her out of herself.
Elsa's past began to unspool. One memory at a time, the past unwound in this Presence that accepted what had happened and drew out the pain and regret, leaving only the memory. It was different than what Pabbie had done to Anna; this created no lies or subterfuge to protect and weaken her. This was truth; and God gave her the strength to bear it. Down through the years He sought and found every pain Elsa had either experienced or inflicted, absorbing the pain and injustice into Himself and leaving only the memory behind.
Then the threads of her past wound back on the spool, all hers again, but with the fear gone, the regrets and injustice taken and absorbed into that mighty, infinite Savior whose work and glory is to heal the brokenhearted and restore hope to the hopeless. And into the places of her soul left empty after the pain was taken, God poured His infinite love and unconditional acceptance, full measure, pressed down and running over. Elsa hurt with the intensity of the joy she felt. Just as she knew she would come apart at the seams as God exceeded her capacity for joy, His presence ebbed away. Gradually and peacefully, it receded until Elsa was herself again, still in that shattered room that was unchanged in its facts, but completely different in its feelings and meaning.
And then three understandings poured into her mind, clear and pure, ringing with the promise of a future so glorious she could barely stand to think of it even as her soul stretched to take on the shape necessary to hold this new and eternal way of thinking that her old soul would have rejected immediately. She wrote them into the floor, tracing the letters into the ice with her finger and repeating them until she had them memorized.
She was exhausted. Dusk leaked through the broken balcony. Elsa crept back to the small chamber, created a snow mattress on the ice bed, wrapped herself in Bern's cloak and slept like a newborn baby.
~###~
Elsa woke the next morning, bubbling with excitement about life in general. Her thoughts flew around for a few minutes, and then finally settled on a fire, specifically, the campfire she knew Bern had going and the surety that it would work for her this morning. She was part of the human race now. She shivered. While she couldn't actually get cold, she missed the sensation of warmth and she knew there was a campfire waiting for her about halfway down the mountain.
Elsa stopped in the shattered room and read what she'd written on the floor, hugging the memory close so that it wouldn't fade in the light of day. Then she went bounding down the stairs. Halfway down the stairs, she ran back up to fetch Bern's cloak. The bag he'd packed for her was still on the main level, and she scooped it up as she ran past on her way out the door and down the staircase that arched over the crevasse. She stopped and fixed the banister on her way down, leaving a ridge to mark where the repair had been made. It had happened after all, and there should be some memory of it remaining even if she healed the damage.
At the base of the stairs, she turned to admire her beautiful palace again. The pink light of sunrise turned it to rose and diamond, sparkling back a reflection that rivaled the sunshine. She was glad she had come. And she was also glad she was leaving.
Elsa fastened the clasp of Bern's cloak around her neck and slung the bag over her shoulder. She aimed a stream of power at the ground and a ribbon of ice unfolded at her feet as she skied down the mountain, adding in a small jump here and there, just for fun. Once she passed the snowline, she kept closer track of her surroundings and found the path to follow. The carriage was pulled off the side of the road and she skied into camp and sent out a flurry of snow spray that spiraled away in the sunrise.
Bern straightened up from where he'd been blowing on the banked fire and adding twigs to get it going again, eyes wide with surprise to see her again so soon and so happy. Olaf was nowhere to be seen.
Elsa stepped off the ice ribbon and waved at it until the entire length of it vanished in blue sparkles, suddenly shy to see him after the way she'd treated him yesterday. After two years of a prim and formal friendship, she'd done nothing but scold him or cry on him these past several days. Oh, and kiss him. That too.
"I wanted to see if the fire worked," Elsa explained. At his questioning look, she said, "A few times now, I've been able to feel the warmth of a fire. I liked it. Something wonderful happened at my ice palace, and I hope it means I can feel a fire now, maybe every time, just like everyone else."
Bern stepped back and gestured for her to take his place next to the small fire. Elsa crouched down and held out her hands. Warmth like sunflower petals pressed back against her palms and joy filled her so full that she had to blink back tears. Bern added more wood to the fire until it crackled merrily and she could stand up and still reach its warmth with her hands. She undid the clasp on his cloak and folded it before draping it over a fallen log and going back to the fire. He stepped around behind her to get out of the smoke.
"I didn't know how long you would be gone, but I'm glad you're back already," he said.
It seemed to her that Bern was as warm as the fire, and so she turned and put her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder. She'd wanted to tell him everything, but she wasn't sure she could find words for something so transcendent. "My past doesn't hurt anymore, Bern, and I'm glad to be myself." She contented herself with reporting the result.
"I'm glad you are who you are too."
She rubbed her thumb down Bern's throat, and he turned and pressed a kiss into her forehead. Something else came as clear as anything she'd felt yesterday in her palace. "Bern, I can't go home yet. I'm still myself, and I know if I have to go back to the palace and face the Queen of Arendelle and Prince Dominic, I'll get all confused and responsible again and do something foolish like marry Prince Dominic."
"That is a problem. Can I help you prevent that?"
"Yes! The day before yesterday, you said you'd marry me tomorrow, and tomorrow was already yesterday and you haven't married me yet. I'm calling your bluff. Let's elope today. You know the pastor in the village – would he do the ceremony for us? We can't go to the castle church because someone might see us, or Bishop Saholt would try and tell somebody first."
Bern took her by the arms and pushed her out where he could look at her in shock.
"I mean it, Bern. Dominic will tell me Arendelle needs a military, and he'll wave that betrothal agreement at me, and the Queen of Arendelle will bully me into considering him again. I don't want to go through any of that. A marriage certificate trumps a betrothal agreement. You have to marry me today, before anyone else can stop us and say we have to have invitations and a formal dinner and make a huge fuss out of it. Do you know how awful my coronation was? I was sick for months, just knowing it was coming. If I've got to go through another pageant with half the world invited, my wedding day will be just as awful. Marry me and let's run away together. We'll let Rodmund and Gustav fix it all later." Elsa shook Bern by the arms, suddenly worried he'd get practical and responsible.
"Elsa," Bern started, and he did sound like he was going to say something responsible.
Elsa grabbed his head and kissed him. He took her by the waist and pulled her away from him.
"If you try and say something responsible, I'll kiss you again," she threatened him.
Bern blinked. "We must send out invitations."
She kissed him.
"Lots of foreign delegates have to come."
She kissed him again.
"We'll serve broccoli at the reception instead of chocolate."
She kissed him again.
"We can charge admission and put the money in the castle treasury to help the economy."
She giggled. "Did you run out of responsible things to say?"
"That was responsible!"
"Oh, my mistake." She kissed him again.
"I have our wedding rings in my pocket."
She kissed him again.
"You can make your own wedding dress."
She kissed him again.
"I brought a change of clothes."
She kissed him again.
"And then we'll sail away in my sailboat for our honeymoon."
She almost kissed him again and then pulled back. "Wait, are you being responsible or making plans to elope with me today?"
"Kiss me first, and then I'll tell you."
Elsa kissed him again. Bern hung onto her this time, his kiss possessive and passionate.
"I'm going to elope with you today," Bern said when he finally let her go.
Elsa nodded and remembered to breathe. The decision was already made, and she had to stay busy enough to not let herself think, because she had a responsible streak too, and it was not invited to the wedding. "Wait, do you really have wedding rings in your pocket?"
Bern shrugged. "You promised to fall in love with me, so I fetched them when I went home at Christmas time. I've had them with me ever since. They belonged to my grandparents."
"I can't wait to see them, but surprise me at the ceremony. We have too many things to do right now. Where's Olaf?"
"Getting more wood. He wanted a bigger fire."
"Olaf!" Elsa called.
Olaf eventually came running back into the clearing, holding a stack of wood so high he couldn't see over the top. "Elsa! You came back already!"
"Olaf, we have the most wonderful surprise and you have to help us! You need to get to the castle as fast as you can, and tell Anna, Kristoff, Gerda, Rodmund and Gustav to go to Councilor Alan's house in Arendelle Village and wait there for further instructions. You wait with them, because you're part of the surprise too," Elsa said. "Can you do that? Just those people. It's a big secret surprise, so don't let anyone else know."
"Are you complicating things?" Bern asked.
"I'm not leaving Anna out of my life anymore, and if Rodmund and Gustav have to fix it all afterwards, I think it's only fair they get to come," Elsa replied. "And you get to ski all the way to the village, Olaf! Won't that be fun?"
"I love skiing! I love surprises too!"
"Get going!" Elsa said. She aimed her power at Olaf's feet and the ice ribbon started to unfold. Olaf promptly fell over and skidded down the mountain on his belly, whooping and hollering as he went.
"Is that going to get him all the way to the castle?" Bern asked.
"Today, I can do anything. Olaf's already connected to my magic. Let's go, Bern," Elsa urged him.
With Elsa's help, it took Bern about five minutes to clear up camp and throw everything back in the carriage and get the horse hitched up. They shared breakfast on the way down the mountain, Elsa talking with her mouth full about wedding plans, Bern nodding when it seemed appropriate. The trip down went much faster than it had coming up the mountain yesterday. In no time at all, they had reached the place where she'd thrown ice spikes on the side of the road and spooked the horse. They'd melted quite a bit since yesterday afternoon; only a softly rounded lump was left. Elsa watched it as they approached and some of her giddiness evaporated.
"Bern, I might still be a little crazy sometimes," she confessed.
"You know I will as well," he replied, taking her hand.
"Thank goodness," Elsa said with a sigh as she leaned her head against his arm. "Wouldn't it be awful if you were always serene and I was the only one who ever freaked out?"
"Yes, awful. Good thing we don't have to worry about that. Let's take turns, though, shall we? Things might get a bit difficult if we both freak out at the same time."
"That's very practical of you," Elsa complimented him.
"Are you still angry at the injustice of it all?" Bern asked.
"No, it got taken care of," Elsa said, wondering how to ever explain in words the feeling she'd gotten about God's vengeance. God cared about victims, and he had every intention of taking the pain out of the offender's soul at some point. He'd been so angry on her behalf that Elsa had confidently turned the entire matter over to him to collect the debt her father owed.
"That's all you can say?"
She had nearly overturned their carriage and then considered impaling Bern on ice spikes, so perhaps she did owe him more than that. Elsa had the very bad habit of not talking to people if it was at all difficult, but it seemed that was a habit she needed to overcome rather than expecting Bern to learn to live with it.
"He healed me, Bern. I had an encounter with God, and He healed me without changing anything. I always thought He'd have to fix my life and change everything to the way it should have been, but that isn't what happened. He took all the pain, but he left everything exactly the way it is," Elsa began. "And then He told me three very important things."
Bern gave her an inquisitive look as the horse trotted along.
"Well, not in words, actually, more like I understood things but I have to find my own words. Let me think a minute." Elsa paused to remember the key phrases she'd scratched into the floor of her palace. "The first one is that it isn't a mistake I have these powers, and I shouldn't try to undo them or get rid of them. I shouldn't ask the cave trolls to undo the spell because they're evil and I shouldn't ask for help from anything evil."
"So you have to stop wishing your magic was gone? That will be quite a change."
Elsa sighed. "I may still wish it was gone sometimes. It does complicate my life enormously, but I won't seriously try to get rid of my powers now. Please don't say something patronizing about how wonderful it is to be different. No one who is actually different thinks it's wonderful, but if I have to learn to live with it, then I will."
"Then I have nothing to say, except that I like your powers very much, even if you don't."
"What? Why?"
"Because your powers seem to like me, so I'm returning them the compliment," Bern replied.
Elsa thought about it. He'd helped her several times recently with her powers, starting with blowing Captain Dav's ship out of the harbor, right up to ending the storm the night of the dinner. If it wasn't for the way her powers had blown a storm all over the castle when she was planning to marry Dominic, she would probably have announced her official betrothal to him by now. She looked at her hands, and set off a puff of snow that sparkled up and shimmered in the summer sunshine before dissolving.
"Does the Queen of Arendelle like your powers?" Bern asked.
"No," Elsa said, watching more snowflakes sparkle away. "She's very embarrassed by them, and angry she doesn't have better control."
"Do you like your powers?" Bern asked.
Elsa thought about building Olaf, creating the ice palace on the North Mountain, ice-blocking with Kristoff, the snow castles she'd built at Christmas for the children, the rush of joy and power that had frozen the ships from Weselton, and the relief that her storm had fetched Bern the night of the dinner. "You know what? I think maybe I do."
"I'm glad you and I agree, then, even if the Queen of Arendelle holds a different opinion."
Elsa took Bern's hand and started examining his long fingers. "Do you think it's crazy that I talk about myself as two people?"
"No, it makes perfect sense."
"Really?"
"I found another version of myself as well this week," Bern said with a wry smile. "There's my mother's son, and he's something of a sniveling coward. And then there's me, and I think I have more backbone than he does."
Elsa laughed out loud. "Are you both nice?"
"Yes, and we're both in love with you."
"Well, then, that's fine. You know what? The Queen of Arendelle isn't in love with you, Bern. She's the one that wants to marry Prince Dominic."
"Hmm, she's got very poor judgment; I'm so glad you finally stood up to her."
"I didn't stand up to her at all, Bern. I completely fell apart. I'm running away from her right now and I never want to see her again."
"Let's pair her off with my mother's son and banish them both," Bern suggested.
Elsa laughed again and let Bern have his hand back so he could guide the horse around a sharp turn in the trail they were following down the mountain.
"What else did you learn? You said there were three things," Bern reminded her.
"This second one also had to do with acceptance, Bern. It was the idea that if things hadn't gotten as bad as they did, I wouldn't have given up on solving my problems myself and asked for help. If I'd been able to manage, then I would have gone through my life managing things, but not getting help. I used to think that God was only the source of good things, but He sends bad things too, if that's what it takes to get us to ask for His help," Elsa frowned and struggled with words. This idea was an entirely different way of thinking.
"That is a strange idea. Once God gets involved, life ought to be easier though, don't you think?"
"You've read the Bible, Bern. When has anyone had an easier life after God has gotten involved?"
"Oh, you're right, that never happens."
Elsa nodded. "If that pattern holds true, then I'm going to come up against the worst events of my life soon."
"You don't sound very scared by that thought."
"I'm not, which is strange. I think I'll get through it, no matter what it is. Do you know, Bern, my entire life has been dominated by fear. But so many of those old fears are gone now." Fear had dug a pit so deep in her life that any new fear re-opened the abyss and she fell down into the current fear and every fear from the past that hid in the abyss. The abyss erupted with ice and snow as she channeled an overreaction that only made sense if you accepted that she was striking out against every fear she'd ever felt, not just the one presenting itself at the moment. But God had removed all those old fears and filled in the abyss in her heart with His love. This is what it felt like to be normal. Elsa felt like she would be able to deal with any situation that arose, without the chains of every past situation making it heavier.
"I'll do what I can to help you," Bern offered.
Elsa wrapped her hands around his arm, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed happily. "I know you will."
Their carriage reached the Albion Basin, which was still full of summer, birdsong, green trees, and the lake reflecting back the mountains. A rabbit darted across the road, and wildflowers bent gently in the breeze. Elsa was supremely happy that she wasn't spending her life in the eternal winter of the North Mountain.
"And the third thing?" Bern asked.
"God promised something so marvelous that I don't even know how to describe it. It's a talisman of healing of some sort, and it will be in my life because of my powers, not in spite of them. It felt like I would be so happy about this talisman that it would help me accept my powers and everything about my life, because they drew this talisman to me. It's like the phrase in the Bible that says 'mourning will be turned into joy.' The joy isn't separate from the mourning, it flows out of it," Elsa said. "I don't know what it is, but it's going to be wonderful."
"I'll help you look for it, queen of mine," Bern promised, putting an arm around her waist and hugging her to him.
"I know you will," Elsa said with another happy sigh. "Let's go get married, shall we?"
"Yes, let's."