The wooden walls around her creaked in strain, shuddering as the wind howled in rage. It was her fault, she thought, that the storm was here, ravaging her kingdom in the middle of spring because of the conflicts she had with Ingrid and Anna. Though Anna managed to talk her down and quell her fears, Elsa still doubted her sister's faith in her. That doubt, coupled with her mounting nerves and oversensitive magic, could have been enough to sustain the storm after it gathered.
Elsa stumbled in the dark, trying and failing to push those thoughts away as she navigated the narrow corridor. This small space between the walls of the castle was meant to be used as an escape route for the royal family if their home was to ever come under siege, or if an intruder had breached the gates. As far as she was concerned, Ingrid was now such an intruder, and she was sure that Anna had used the same secret passage in the study to escape after she scrawled her warning.
Holding her skirt in one hand, she pressed the other to the wall, feeling her way around a dark corner, forgetting how much longer she had to go until she was soon met with a dead end. With a soft shove, the wall in front of her gave, swinging open to a room she was shrouded from by a tapestry hanging from the tall ceiling. Pushing the secret entrance closed, she moved to the edge of the tapestry, peering around it before revealing herself to no one.
She frowned as she came out from behind the throne and looked around the empty hall, having expected to see her sister waiting for her given the head start she had. "Anna?" Elsa called, quiet with caution before she tried again, louder this time. "Anna! Are you here?"
No answer.
As Elsa descended the short platform from the throne, she began to worry. This was their meeting place in case of emergencies, and Anna used to navigate the secret passages out of boredom in her youth, so there was no chance of her getting lost on her way here. Did something happen? What if Ingrid got to her just after she wrote her warning?
She tried to shake off that last thought, but it lingered in the back of her mind. From where she stood she could see the entirety of the Great Hall, and she noticed right away something was off. The alcoves on both sides of the room usually had their curtains drawn to provide seating and atmosphere, but the ones to her right were closed.
Curious, she approached a set, hoping her sister would be hiding behind them. She reached for the curtains and pulled them aside, gasping in shock because instead of finding Anna, she found her own reflection glaring back at her from within a wall of ice.
"What is this…?"
"A little something I conjured up."
Elsa looked over her shoulder, feeling her heart sink when she saw Ingrid appear from behind a pillar on the opposite side of the room.
She beamed with a proud grin. "It's been frustrating watching you struggle with your magic," Ingrid said as she started to cross the distance between them, "but I've come up with the perfect solution! It's experimental, but with some adjustments I'm sure you and I can discover how to make it work."
From the sight of her own reflection, Elsa wasn't sure if she wanted to learn; the image of herself in the ice was so skewed that it made her look angry, like she could snap into a rage at any moment. She swept her cape aside and turned, facing Ingrid with a forced smile. "You didn't have to go through the effort just for me," Elsa said, faking the pleasantries well enough for Ingrid to believe, "but thank you. I can't wait to get started, but…"
She trailed off and looked around the Great Hall, unable to hide her worry when she failed to find any sign of Anna. There were too many reasons to think of for why she wasn't there, but what made Elsa nervous was knowing that she was facing Ingrid alone. The whole reason she was here was to avoid her in the first place.
The bright expression Ingrid carried started to fade when she saw how concerned Elsa became. "Is something wrong?"
Elsa swallowed hard and pressed her lips together, aware of her heart starting to race as she listened to the storm howl beyond the castle walls. For as much as she wanted to entertain Ingrid's new technique, she had a bad feeling about trying it when she felt her magic jolt down her arms. It gathered in her palms and made her skin itch, just like it did in the recent times when she lost control of it. She had to make her leave now before it got too out of hand.
"…I'm sorry." Elsa looked to the doors and started towards them, shaking her head in apology as she feigned her well-being. "I need to find Anna."
That statement was enough to make Ingrid suspicious. "I thought you were still upset with her?"
"We'll have to test your new technique later," Elsa said with a brief smile, avoiding the question, "but for now, I really need to speak with my sister."
She walked away, unaware that Ingrid's glare had turned stone cold upon her back. In her time of need, she would still run to mortal, clueless Anna instead of trusting Ingrid's benevolent counsel.
How DARE she! Ingrid had done so much in teaching her about their power, about the mastery she could achieve if she would only heed her advice. Anna could do no such thing for her. All Anna could do—the BEST she could do—was support Elsa in her endeavor to gain control over every aspect of her magic, but she failed the minute she considered locking her in the dungeon.
Ingrid didn't understand how Elsa was willing to speak with her again. Was she so tied by family bonds that she couldn't see the truth behind Anna's heinous act?
"Blinded by love…" Ingrid muttered under her breath. "I'll make you see the truth." She raised her hand towards the tall doors of the Great Hall, smirking to herself when ice started to grow from the bottom just as Elsa reached for the handle.
She snapped her hand back and stepped away, watching in horror as the ice crept up the doors and sealed them shut with Ingrid's signature brand. "What are you doing…?" She looked over her shoulder, unsettled when she saw how pleased Ingrid looked with herself. "What is the meaning of this?!"
"You were trying to run away again when all I want is to help you. I understand we've had our disagreements over the weeks in regards to your training, but let me make myself clear now."
With a grand flourish, Ingrid waved her hand and cast her magic to the alcoves on her left. Thick, reflective walls of ice appeared to block off every space one at a time, not only adding to the unsettling atmosphere, but blocking Elsa from a door on the far side she could have used to escape. The only exit she had now was the secret one behind the throne on the opposite side of the room… and she'd have to get through Ingrid to get there.
"I know you were hiding from me in the study. You aren't going anywhere until you and I finish our discussion."
Nothing was settled that day. Their confrontation only made things worse.
Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her forehead, wishing she could lose her memories of what happened so her mind would stop reliving it at every quiet opportunity. She couldn't think of anything else, couldn't concentrate on what she was doing. The nightmare of her past haunted her just as it did in her dark prison, and she was certain nothing would ever free her from its grasp.
Get it together. You can't do this right now. You have to pay attention.
She could tell herself that a million times over, and yet the same distracting thoughts would worm their way back in. It didn't help that she wasn't where she was supposed to be right now, going against Emma's request to stay at the Charmings' apartment after their training session.
Opening her eyes, she looked out from the alley to the pawnshop across the street. Time was short, and she wasn't going to get answers sitting around waiting for something to fall in her lap. As much as she didn't want to turn to the Dark One for help, she didn't know of anyone else in Storybrooke who was capable of shedding light on the prophecy she so feared.
She took a breath and crossed the street, pushing past any lingering doubts and hesitation to open the door and step inside the pawnshop. For once, the bell that announced her arrival didn't startle her, and she didn't have to wait for the proprietor to make his appearance from the back room. He stood behind the counter, writing down information in a registry when he glanced up at her and smirked.
"Well, well… it's been quite some time," Mr. Gold said with a toothy grin. "Welcome back to Storybrooke, Your Majesty."
Elsa huffed as she closed the door behind her. "Somehow I feel as though I should be saying the same to you. You didn't stay dead long," she said, recalling how early they met again after her return to Arendelle. "And you seem far more stable than the last time I saw you."
He nodded, taking a moment to think as he closed the registry and placed his hand upon it. "Fate… has not been kind to either of us," he started, his voice sincere as he recalled their troubled pasts. "I should be dead, and perhaps you should have stayed trapped in that urn, but here we both are: Two pawns of destiny given another chance in this cursed little town. A sacrifice was made to give me this chance," he admitted, "so I won't be taking it for granted anytime soon. You, on the other hand…"
"I'm stuck in a never ending nightmare," Elsa finished. She sighed and walked to the center of the store, holding her hands together as she doted upon the past. "…Can I ask you something?"
His expression turned sour. "Not for a favor, I hope."
"No, it's—sorry, I forgot that every question I need answered turns into a favor when it's coming from you," she said in a dull tone, catching the amused glint in Mr. Gold's eye when she called him out on it. "I want to know if it's still possible to cross worlds."
"To return to Arendelle, you mean? I would say that it is possible… but only if you have the right means or magic. You have neither," he said with a curt nod, "so for you? No, it's not possible."
He refused to elaborate when Elsa waited for him to go on. Her brows knit together, discontent with his answer. "That's it?" she asked, approaching the counter. "There's nothing here that we can use? No spells or rituals we could cast?"
Mr. Gold adjusted his firm stance and sighed. "You don't have a magic bean, and the only bean farm in Storybrooke was destroyed after Regina lost her mother. You don't have the right magic to teleport yourself between worlds," he said, raising a finger to silence Elsa when she tried to interrupt, "and even if you did, attempting to cross while channeling that much magic would probably kill you. There is a ritual that can be done, but it requires a sacrifice, and the veil of magic that separates the worlds is too strong for it to work. Breaking through the curse that keeps us in Storybrooke is another matter entirely."
Elsa put a hand on her hip and clenched the other so hard her knuckles turned white. "So everyone else who crossed realms conveniently found a way when they needed to, but I'm stuck here because they used up everything Storybrooke had."
Entertained by her frustration, Mr. Gold spread his arms and stepped back from the counter. "Such is the grim fortune bestowed upon us villains, dearie."
"I am not a villain," she snapped, narrowing her gaze when their eyes locked.
He chuckled as he stepped around the counter. "You sound so sure. Tell me: How exactly do you deny murder when all the evidence points to you?"
She squared her jaw. "It was an accident," she growled, unaware of the cold fog emanating from her fists. "I'm not like you. I don't hurt people because I want to."
"But you still hurt them." He saw the confidence leave her face when he stopped and stood before her, witnessing the truth behind the brave mien she projected when she first entered the store. "You've failed to gain mastery over your magic, and you've severed the bond you had with your sister. There's no hope for you to overcome the prophecy now."
"…Not unless you tell me what it is." Elsa held her breath, aware that asking for this information wouldn't come for free, especially when she saw Mr. Gold's passive gaze turn razor sharp. "Name a price for the prophecy and I'll pay it."
He scoffed, grinning a toothy, malicious grin. "That's awfully bold to assume you have something I want. Reality is, dearie, you have nothing to negotiate with."
"There must be someth—"
"No. There isn't. Have you forgotten that you've tried this once already?" he asked, clasping one hand in the other. "I did name a price, and you never paid it."
Elsa felt her heart sink. That one day over a year ago, when she summoned Rumplestiltskin to Arendelle and begged for his aid, she didn't take his request seriously. He was not of his right mind at the time, and she, weakened from fighting her magic's chaos, was unwilling to negotiate with a madman. "…I thought you were rambling about something that didn't exist. All you mentioned was a hat," she said, looking and feeling lost. "What hat? How was I supposed to know?"
"I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it? I still got what I wanted," he said with a knowing smirk, "and you still ended up with nothing. Now unless you intend to spend your measly income on something in my store, I suggest you turn around and head back home. Our business is done here."
"No. It's not." She couldn't leave here empty handed. He thought he could give the order and she would accept it, but she stood her ground, never breaking her sights from his. "How dare you try to dismiss me as though I am nothing!" she snapped, feeling her magic shoot down her arms and pool in her palms. "I spent most of the time I had in Arendelle searching for the prophecy and looking for ways to stop it because of you. Don't act like you have no part in this when my urn ended up in your vault."
"…To be fair," Mr. Gold started, "I didn't know that it was you when I obtained it. It appeared to me in the past; I'm sure someone explained to you by now that you were lost in time?" He raised a brow, dismissing her when her glare only grew colder. "Your magic was so out of control that I could feel it through the urn; that's how bad you were. I did the world a favor by putting you in that vault."
"Now, on the subject of my warning," he continued, interrupting before Elsa could get in another word to argue, "I did it as a favor that I didn't owe, perhaps to alleviate some misplaced guilt I had in my final moments. If you had followed my advice to let your sister guide you, we wouldn't be standing here right now, but due to your ignorance, well…"
He flicked his wrist to the air, shrouding his hand in a cloud of dark red smoke. When the smoke dissipated seconds later, he held something between his thumb and forefinger. It was made of untarnished gold, sharp in its decorative, regal design, and crested with a diamond-cut sapphire in its hollow center.
"I guess you'll have to return another favor I gave to you." He smiled when Elsa's hand flew to her back pocket, taking delight in seeing her panic when she realized he had stolen her crown. Admiring the craftsmanship, he held it up and turned it, catching the light off the gold and in the cut of the gem. "It's not as though you need it, anyway. Your reign over Arendelle ended in chaos and confusion, and the enchantment is useless to you now. Only a fool would dare try to control the Snow Queen's heart."
The tiara took on a bright glow, appearing as though the metal was being superheated by Mr. Gold's touch. Elsa winced against the light, wondering what he was doing until she saw the tiara shimmer red and noticed that a corner of it was turning black. "Stop. Rumplestiltskin, stop!"
He held the tiara in front of her, letting her watch as the blackened corner crumbled to ash. "This isn't me, dearie. All I've done is alter the enchantment. This trinket—your birthright—is disappearing because of you." He tossed the tiara back at her, stepping closer when she fumbled it in panic. "When the gold is gone, so too is the time you have left before the prophecy begins. Whatever you do between now and then determines how fast it will come."
The tiara felt cold in her hands, empty of the weight it once bore and now as delicate as a piece of glass. The edge that had crumbled away remained black, though for now the darkness didn't encroach upon the rest of the metal. She thought of the reasons why Mr. Gold would do this as she stared at it, wondering why his cruelty was unending when she merely sought his help.
"…You're afraid of me." She looked up, watching his stern expression shift as he stared back at her in silence. "All these warnings, the help you gave when Cora tried to use me… you were afraid of what would happen if I lost control or if she set me against you." She glanced down at the tiara and looked back up at his scowl, piecing together his logic as she spoke. "You know that once the prophecy starts, there's nothing you can do to st—"
She gagged, choking on her words as Mr. Gold thrust his hand through flesh and bone and wrapped his fingers around her heart, holding her hostage in his grasp.
"…Ice magic is unpredictable. Always has been, always will be. The future I saw will come to pass," he sneered, jerking his arm to bring Elsa closer. She gasped and gripped his arm, clenching her teeth as she tried and failed to wrest him off. "And to be frank, I don't care what you do so long as you stay out of my way."
Elsa shuddered, hearing the truth behind his words. "You… want this to happen?"
He smirked. "To the people of this town, I am no longer a threat; all eyes are on you now, dearie. So long as you stay in Storybrooke, I can continue my work uninterrupted." He leaned forward until their faces were just inches apart, witnessing the hate in her eyes that masked her fear. "Storybrooke always has a villain, and now it's your turn, Snow Queen."
She shivered through a shallow breath, glaring malice as she faced his conniving sneer. "…Storybrooke always had a monster, too. The role suits you better than it suited me," she spat. "Get your filthy hand off of my heart. Now."
"Of course, Your Majesty, but on one condition." He clenched his hand and squeezed her heart, but if she felt any pain, her face didn't show it. "Leave my store, and don't bother coming back until your reign of terror is over."
His final words wrapped around her heart before he let go, tangling it in a compulsion that she had to obey. Against her will, Elsa stepped back when Mr. Gold retrieved his hand from her chest and walked out of the store as she was told to, stopping only when the door closed behind her. There was a pressure at her back that kept her from going back inside, a kind of ward only she could sense, though it didn't matter much to her now. Her business with Rumplestiltskin was henceforth and forever concluded, no matter how bad they needed the other's help.
The cold wind blew through her hair, whisking away the heat of anger, leaving her empty and alone at the end of Main Street with nothing gained from the encounter but a diseased enchantment on her inheritance. The tiara in her hands, once unmarred, was now forever changed. She looked down at it, frowning at the blackened corner, but the larger part that remained gold renewed some of her broken faith.
She still had time.
I am NOT a villain.
Gripping it tight, she looked down the street, spotting the forest in the distance just beyond Storybrooke proper. She knew what she was, and there was a perfect opportunity waiting at the edge of town to prove it to everyone else, too.
Meanwhile, inside the pawnshop, Mr. Gold retreated to his usual spot behind the counter. He looked down at his right hand, turning it over and back again. The sleeve of his suit jacket was coated in frost where Elsa had grabbed him, and his hand… it almost looked frozen. If not for his own magic, he was sure there would have been permanent damage. Holding Elsa's heart was colder than holding a block of ice.
"I wish you would have listened to me, dearie," he sighed as he wiggled his fingers, urging them to thaw as he reached below the counter and retrieved a book. "You'd know so much more if you did."
The book was old and dusty with runes on the front of its leather cover. Something stuck out from the pages halfway through, and he opened it to find a map there. Just like the book itself, the map was old, hand drawn to lead the reader from Arendelle proper to a specific valley in the mountains where one could happen upon rock trolls.
With a gruff look, he turned the map over and frowned. On the other side was another drawing, but this one was of a solitary mountain. Its summit was remarkably flat and populated with stones at the top, drawn in such a way to look as though they were organized with two taller stones in the middle. Below the summit was a cave.
Runes beneath the drawing gave the place a name: Tempest Peak.
"Are you afraid of me, Elsa?"
The repeated question filled her with dread. Her mind was clouded with racing thoughts, and her heart beat so loud and hard that she felt it in her ears. Adding to the cacophony of Elsa's plight was the storm outside, growing stronger and more dangerous with every passing minute.
Everything threatened to break her guard against the magic that raged within her, and she was quickly arriving to the point where one misstep or lapse in concentration could cause her to fall apart. Refusing to answer Ingrid's question, Elsa said nothing. She balled her fists to force her magic back and stared Ingrid in the eyes, as outraged and hurt by this betrayal as she was with Anna's.
Her struggle couldn't be more obvious, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. A telltale crackle of ice sounded from beneath her shoes, coating the floor around her with frost where small spikes of ice guarded the perimeter from Ingrid. "I thought as much," Ingrid said, indifferent as she brought Elsa's attention to the sharp points. As dangerous as they could become, they wouldn't do much more than prick her fair skin; the current size of this threat was so miniscule she could simply stomp it out of existence. "But that's only on the surface, isn't it? You fear so much more."
Elsa glanced to the walls of ice on the left side of the room, unable to deny the accusation when there was so much that weighed on her mind. Within the ice she found her reflection holding her stance: balled fists, tense shoulders, legs parted slightly in anticipation to run or defend herself from some sort of attack. Her face though… it didn't match the mask Elsa was trying to wear. After years of practice, she had mastered the art of concealing what she felt by projecting a stoic, unfeeling, regal persona.
Her reflection had the eyes of a woman who was being tortured mentally and physically, and Elsa would be a damned liar to deny that she felt the same.
Her palms started to go cold and she clenched her fists tighter, looking now to Ingrid's image within the ice. Unlike Elsa, her reflection matched her perfectly, from the pose she held to the amused smirk on her lips. "It shows the truth," Ingrid said, taking Elsa's attention away from the walls. "I didn't need to see your reflection to know how scared you are, but now you can't hide from it."
"…Why would you show me this?"
"To prove you wrong. You believe "love" helps you stay in control of your magic, but look at yourself." She turned her head, glancing at Elsa's pained reflection in disgust. "It's tearing you apart. Do you think it's wise to run to Anna right now? She's the reason you're like this."
"That's not true!" Elsa yelled. "She has nothing to do with—"
"Denying it will only escalate your suffering," Ingrid snapped, frustrated. "You've tried to bury the truth—and I commend your efforts for doing so for her sake—but it's apparent now. You aren't just afraid of the prophecy and what will happen to her; you're afraid of what she'll do next to prove your deepest fear."
Elsa grit her teeth. "I am NOT afraid of Anna."
"No, of course not." Ingrid chuckled as she raised her left arm, gazing upon the loose white sleeve of her dress and the ice she had woven into the fabric. "You trust her more than you trust yourself. She's the heir; of course you depend on her." She ran her fingertips over her sleeve, taking a pause to be captivated by the glisten and shine of each individual piece of ice. Some were small, shaped like gems, crystals and teardrops, but others were larger and jagged… like pieces of broken glass.
One of the latter pieces caught her eye and she plucked it from her sleeve, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as she returned her focus to Elsa. "But where was she when you needed her most? She abandoned you while you mourned Baldor, visiting you only when it was convenient for her." She shook her head in pity. "Do you honestly believe she loves you anymore?"
Driven by anger, Elsa opened her mouth to snap back, wanting to put an end to Ingrid's hurtful accusations and return to her family, but the words never came. Instead, her sharp gaze grew soft, and her intimidating stance turned meek. She went still and her throat felt tight. Her heart raced faster, thumping hard in her chest as all her anger drowned in a flood of fear. "…I spoke with Anna a few hours ago," she said, shaking as her lingering doubts began to emerge, unaware that her hold on her magic was slipping further because of it. Her hands glowed with blue energy, visible even as she held them tight against her middle. Snow started to fall from the ceiling, cascading around her shoulders in a weak flurry that grew stronger with each passing second. "She didn't mean to—"
Ingrid held up a hand, silencing her attempt to reason. "Stop making excuses for her. You saw the dungeon for yourself. There was no reason for her to go to such extremes without speaking with you first."
"She didn't know what to do!"
"She's AFRAID of you, Elsa!" Ingrid snapped. "You can't prove to her that you're capable of stopping the prophecy, so she's willing to lock you away to avoid it. She's treating you like a monster!"
"Stop…" Elsa stepped back, retreating towards the frozen doors, crippled by Ingrid's words. The heavy snow began to swirl around her in a vortex, acting as a final warning. "You're wrong. That's not what she meant…!"
Ingrid refused to let her run. She retook the distance Elsa made from her, setting her jaw and braving the snow squalls as the shard in her hand became engulfed in a white aura. "You can try to convince yourself otherwise, but you will always fail. The truth is written clear on your face: You loved Anna more than anything, and she broke your heart."
"ENOUGH!"
Overwhelmed, Elsa flung out her hand, casting forth a stream of blue sparks aimed straight at Ingrid. It happened out of impulse, not by will, and now another person she cared for was going to be struck down by her raging magic.
This didn't come as a surprise to the elder sorceress, having anticipated Elsa's will to fail since the start of their confrontation; with nothing but fear fueling her magic, this unintended attack could be broken apart just as easily as its caster. As soon as she saw the blast racing towards her, Ingrid had thrown the shard, casting it forth in a streak of white. The shard sliced through the blue sparks, dispersing them and sparing Ingrid from harm long enough to realize that her defense was also a dire mistake.
Poor Elsa never saw it coming.
She didn't cry out—she merely gasped—as the shard struck her in the chest and pushed her against the doors. It sapped her of strength and thought, unable to process anything except for the sight of Ingrid staring back at her. Her blue eyes were as scared as Elsa's and just as lost. For the first time, there was nothing Ingrid could say to help her through this. The anguish was for Elsa to bear alone.
Her legs gave out and she slid down the doors, giving in to tears of sorrow and pain as she doubled over and clutched her hands against her heart. It felt as though she had been stabbed, but there was nothing, no wound or drop of blood to indicate she had been hit. Shivering, she sat alone against the ice, becoming more and more aware of its biting cold and the sound of the wind howling outside. It made her heart race, and it drew her concern to a sensation she had never felt before.
It burned within her chest, cold in nature like her magic, but volatile, like a virus of blades flowing through her veins. This infection spread through to her back, pausing at her shoulders before encroaching upon her neck. Her lungs felt tight. Her fingers and toes went numb. The warmth that kept her cheeks rosy began to leave her, and as her thoughts returned to Anna, her tears started to crackle against her skin.
Ingrid watched in silence as Elsa struggled to return to her feet, noting that the snow in the room hadn't stopped falling and the wind, slowed in this brief moment, was quickly regaining its power. "I'm sorry," she whispered, cringing when Elsa placed her hand upon the frozen doors to steady herself and unwittingly spread blue frost across the surface. "Elsa—"
"Go away."
Her words shook against her pain. She took a labored step forward and ice shot across the floor in all directions, coating it in a solid sheet she had no intention of making.
Eyes wide, Ingrid held her breath as the magic hit the edges of the room and climbed up the walls, stopping halfway to the ceiling in jagged intervals. "You're upset. It was never my intention to—"
"LEAVE!" Her command was followed with a lash of wind, striking the floor in front of Ingrid with sparks of magic. From the magic grew a barrier of spikes, all of which pointed at Ingrid in warning to obey. "Just leave," Elsa repeated, sparing Ingrid one last glance before she turned away.
She struggled to take a proper breath. Her magic crippled her ability to move. She clenched her hands over her heart, shuffling slowly towards the throne, yearning for the safety of the passage behind it. Beyond that, she had no goal, aimless as the storm raged while her wounded heart grieved.
"Her life would be so much better if you weren't here to screw it up."
The words sent a violent shiver down her spine, forcing her to kneel to brace against it. She stuck the tip of her sword in the floor and held onto the hilt with both hands, bowing her head as the cold raced through her.
It was part of a relentless attack that must have gone on for an hour. In the beginning she could brush off the comments like they were nothing, but all she heard now was the truth.
"You can't do anything right. Only someone as dumb as you would lock herself in a room with the person they were trying to run away from."
Anna cringed at the reminder. She must have checked every nook and cranny of the Great Hall three times over before she locked all the doors as planned, leaving the secret door behind the throne as the only entrance. Ingrid slipped in somehow, appearing amidst a flurry of snowflakes and sparing nothing but petty insults before pushing Anna into one of the seating alcoves on the side of the room.
Before Anna had a chance to use the urn, she was surrounded by walls of ice that kept her from reaching any door. The ice was cloudy enough that she couldn't see through it, but it still captured her impatient, scrutinizing reflection.
Her mirror image crossed her arms and raised her head, looking down upon her. "You really are pathetic. Elsa enchanted the sword to cut through ice, and you can't even figure out how to use it."
It was another truth that crippled her resolve. As soon as the ice appeared, Anna drew her sword and took a few swings at it, but the blade didn't cut through it like Elsa said it would. It remained latent in her hands, and she was sure that all she managed to do was dull the edge with the scratches she made. Exhausted now from the constant effort to escape, she succumbed to the cold emanating from the walls and let her reflection's words wear her down.
"Serves you right. You don't deserve to get out of here, anyway. You know she really hasn't forgiven you for what you did." Her reflection shook her head, disgusted at the sight of her. "I mean, come on! Rebuilding that dungeon cell? Bad move."
Everything she said was a thought that Anna already had. Opening her eyes, she looked into the blade of her sword. She saw her reflection there too, but this one didn't talk at her. This one was silent, portraying her as she was: a cold, tired, defeated young woman who hated what she saw and heard. "…I was trying to protect her," came her weak response.
"Protect her?! And you call yourself a hero? Ha! When are you going to tell Elsa you're afraid of her?"
The tired eyes within the sword lit up with life, flickering with a flame that ignited in her heart. Her fatigue melted away, replaced with an energy fueled by the ire of having her love called into question. "I am NOT afraid!" Anna snapped, rising to her feet and staring down her reflection in the ice. She pulled her sword free from the floorboard, gritting her teeth when the mirror image laughed in her face.
"If you say so… but we know better than anyone that "saying" isn't the same as "believing"."
Anna raised her sword, eyes wide and furious, heart drumming with the heat of boiling anger she could aim only at herself. "I AM NOT AFRAID!" she yelled, feeling the sword hum in her hands. The steel ignited in a blue, ethereal glow as she took aim, singing with a power that remained dormant until now.
She thrust the sword forward and it sunk through the ice, stabbing her reflection in the chest. The reflection didn't react in pain; it merely raised a brow and glanced down at the blade. A chuckle rose from her throat when she looked back up and saw Anna's wild eyes, staying collected while the real princess panted from the adrenaline.
"Liar."
With a frenzied cry, Anna dragged the blade through the ice, splitting her reflection's face in twain as she carved a circle in the wall. She retrieved her sword and kicked the ice out of the middle, pausing in her escape to pick up the urn before she returned to the Great Hall.
She slipped the moment she stepped out, clutching the urn tight to her chest as she fell to her knees and found the floor coated in a thin layer of blue ice. Spotting the snowflake patterns within, she had no doubts that her sister was here, though as she turned her sights to the rest of the room, she became worried. The Great Hall looked akin to a battlefield, with arcs of spikes acting as barricades to keep invaders away from the throne as icicles hung from the ceiling, menacing with their precarious threat. She saw how the frost on the walls crept up towards the windows and witnessed the storm raging rampant outside; whatever battle took place here, Elsa's magic was the clear victor.
Anna got to her feet, dismayed to find the grand doors sealed shut with a sharp white snowflake. She turned instead to the opposite side of the room, looking past the barricades to find Ingrid approaching the throne. From the angle she didn't have a clear view, but she spied the glisten and shine of Elsa's cape resting upon the platform, Elsa herself blocked from Anna's view by Ingrid standing before her.
There was no doubt Ingrid was the reason for Elsa's magic going off like this. By sword or by urn, Anna was determined to end her threat and make sure she would never manipulate her sister again.
As Anna made her quiet approach around the spikes, Ingrid remained unaware of her escape, focused solely on the woman who sat before her. "I took this from your study before we met here," she smiled as she held up Elsa's tiara. "I hope you don't mind, but it's appropriate for the occasion. You are evolving past your limits and becoming who you truly are."
She brought the regal symbol down upon Elsa's head, crowning her with the birthright she stripped herself of. "There. As it should be. I understand the pain you're enduring right now, but we'll get through it together as we have before. We are sisters, after all."
A pulse of magic shot out across the room, forcing Anna to slide to a halt just as a gust of cold air knocked Ingrid off her feet and sent her flying to the left. She tumbled in a heap, coming to a stop before one of her ice walls where she hurried to recover from the unexpected attack. "Calm yourself!" she ordered. "You're making it worse by—"
Ingrid tried to stand, but found she couldn't when her hands became covered by bell-shaped manacles of blue ice. The chains reached down to the frozen floor, too short for Ingrid to rise beyond her knees, and too strong for her to break free. "Elsa, stop this at once! I've done nothing but help you! This pain is Anna's doing!"
Such an accusation would have never gone unchallenged by the princess, but words failed to find her when she set eyes upon the throne. Time slowed to a standstill, long enough to just notice the snowflake pattern branching out from the throne before staring upon its sole, rightful occupant.
Anna's sword slipped from her fingers, clattering upon the floor as she witnessed the horror that had become of her sister. "Elsa…?"
She cringed at the sound of her name and looked to Anna with tears in her eyes, helpless to stop them from falling and freezing amongst the many others upon her cheeks. Her skin was a deathly shade with marks of gray around her lips, and the fingers of her right hand were turning blue as Anna watched. She clenched that fist against her heart, where her signature snowflake had exploded across her chest and left shoulder.
Elsa struggled to breathe and leaned against the left armrest of the throne. "Anna…" she rasped, saddened to find her stare focused solely on her left arm; it was frozen solid from her shoulder to her fingertips, ending in long, sharp claws that did not suit her gentle nature. "Please… you have to go."
Anna took a timid step forward, cradling the urn as she left her sword behind. "What happened…?
Elsa closed her eyes and barely shook her head, afraid to make the motion any bigger lest she cast more ice across the room. "It's being pulled from me. It's like before, I can't—" She faltered, silenced when the ice covering her heart began to spread, crawling up her neck and painting her cheek with branches of blue flakes. "Please, stay back…!"
She panicked, squeezing her eyes shut when she saw Anna start to approach the throne. The temperature in the room started to drop again, forcing Anna to stop with the sudden change in climate when she spotted her breath fogging in the air. She'd been in this situation before: Caught on the outskirts of Elsa's power while Elsa herself was being overwhelmed by a storm of emotions and magic. In all but her first attempt, she managed to brave the storm and get through to her, calming Elsa down before things got too far.
This time… was completely different from those other times. Elsa wasn't just overwhelmed. She was suffering. Every breath she took was filled with a sharp, dagger-like pain, and each passing moment was spent in agony as she used every ounce of strength to keep her magic restrained. She couldn't keep going like this forever; it was only a matter of time before her will gave out and her devastating power was let loose, consuming her or Arendelle, or possibly both at the same time.
Anna looked on, holding back a cry of fear as she watched Elsa's blonde hair turn pure white. She listened to her pained whimpers, wanting them to stop, wanting to tell Elsa that she was okay and could get through this, but she didn't dare speak the words. What good could a hopeful speech do when her sister was so devastated? Desperate, she looked to Ingrid for help, but the elder sorceress had the same lost stare that Anna felt.
This had to stop before it got too far, and there was only one solution she could come up with. It was a gamble on an unproven theory, but she had to do it. For Arendelle. For Elsa.
Gods, she couldn't lose her. She couldn't stand the thought.
When Elsa next opened her eyes, she saw Anna staring down at the urn in her hands. It was a simple pose, one that she dismissed until she realized that her little sister was shaking. "Anna…?"
She looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks as she faced Elsa's confused expression.
"Anna, what…?"
The urn felt so heavy in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Elsa."
Elsa squinted, unsure why she was apologizing until she saw her reach for the cap. She realized then what she was planning to do. "No… no! You're not…! You can't-!" Elsa cried, her voice cutting off as her fear about Anna's love was renewed. She pushed back against the throne, desperate to escape though her strength failed her. "Anna?!"
"I don't know what else to do!" Anna yelled, straining to make herself heard as Ingrid yelled in protest. "I—"
She paused, reeling when she felt the pressure of magic press down on her like a heavy weight. The entire room shuddered as cracks ran through the ice in the floor and whatever managed to coat the walls. Needles of ice grew from every surface, each one pointed in a different direction, unsure where to aim their threat. The windows close to the ceiling fractured, and some even shattered, adding to the chaos that was beginning to rage around them.
Elsa's chest heaved as she was overcome with panic. "Please, Anna. My magic—"
"I'm sorry."
Her blue eyes went wide as Anna gripped the cap. "No! No, Anna, please don't do this!" she yelled. "You promised! You promised me…!"
"I'm sorry, Elsa!"
She tore off the cap, closed her eyes, and pointed the urn at Elsa. Though the power of it could not be seen to the naked eye, Elsa felt it flowing from within the black abyss. Her own magic, already on alert, retaliated immediately, shrouding her within a veil of snow as spikes of distress and warning rose up around the throne.
The effort was for naught.
She dropped her hand to her lap, helpless as the urn neutralized her magic and sapped her of any remaining physical strength. Her body took on a blue glow, starting from her chest and spreading down to her feet. From that point she felt the urn pulling at her, and she realized that her belief in its usefulness had now become her downfall. As the glow climbed up her neck, she looked upon Anna with all the pain and sadness her heart had left to give.
"…I trusted you."
She closed her eyes, and Anna opened hers, gasping to see that Elsa's features were gone; freckles, eyes, skin… there was nothing but a glowing, bright blue mass in the shape of her sister sitting upon the throne. She thought for a moment that this was part of the process, in which the urn would take the blue of Elsa's magic and leave her behind, but she couldn't be more wrong.
Against their belief, the urn began to break Elsa apart, reducing her to nothing more than a liquid made of magic and consciousness. It took her without remorse, stealing her from the throne and pulling her into its dark prison. Powerless, helpless as she hardly had a physical form, she could no longer threaten Arendelle or the world with her unstable magic and ambiguous prophecy.
The cap in Anna's hand was drawn back to the urn as soon as the deed was done, snapping to it like a magnet to seal its prisoner inside her new cage. "No! That's not right…!" Anna cried, scrambling to take the cap off, but it was stuck fast. She tried again and again, holding back tears as she continued failing what should have been a simple task. "Come on… please," she begged, losing her ability to stay calm when she saw runes begin to appear on the urn's face. "Please…! Let her go!"
The runes pulsed with a blue light—Elsa's blue—as they showed themselves in full. When the light faded, the runes remained, permanent as though they had been there the entire time.
"…What did you just do…?"
The words were spoken so soft, Anna barely heard them above her own drumming heart. She hugged the urn close to her chest, protecting it when she turned and saw Ingrid glaring at her from across the room.
Her eyes were bright and unblinking, and she kept so still, unable to comprehend what she just bore witness to. "How could you…?" she asked, attempting to stand in an effort to reach Anna, but held back by the chains Elsa had trapped her in. "She did nothing to you."
Panicked, Anna looked down at the urn. "I didn't mean to! It was just supposed to take her magic—"
"Why would you take away something so precious to her?! All she ever did was love you, and now she's GONE." With a pulse of white magic and a violent tug at her restraints, Ingrid shattered the chains of her shackles and rose up. She stalked across the room, hell bent on making Anna pay. "You never deserved to have her."
"Stay back!" Anna warned. She reached for her sheath to draw her sword, but she grabbed nothing but air, remembering too late that she had dropped it and it was still behind her.
Ingrid carried a similar handicap in which her hands were still covered by manacles of ice, but that didn't slow her approach. "You were a hero to Elsa. Her everything. Now I see the truth." She stomped her heel, and six spears grew from the frozen floor in a mix of white and blue ice, surrounding Anna with their sharp tips aimed at her throat. Anna raised her head, aware of the surrounding danger when the one behind her grazed her skin.
She swallowed hard, helpless to watch as Ingrid stepped between the spears and reached for the urn with her covered hands. "Please. Don't," Anna begged, eyes filling with tears. "I can't lose her."
"…Neither can I." Ingrid stepped back, feeling nothing when Anna's tears began to fall. She secured the urn in her arms and shook her head. "Everyone saw her as a monster… but the only monster I've seen here is you."
A flurry of white snow appeared around Ingrid and she closed her eyes, holding the urn tight as she became lost within its swirling shroud. The flurry turned into a stream of flakes, flowing towards the ceiling and out a broken window, disappearing within the squall of the storm outside.
Left behind was Anna and the aftermath of what she had done, surrounded by Ingrid's wrath and Elsa's anguish. Her sobs filled the hall to the rafters. She didn't just lose her sister… she lost her best friend, and there was no one to carry the blame but her.
Emma Swan stepped out of her car, absently closing the door as she caught sight of her reflection in the side mirror. When Anna had called asking to meet with her for a discussion, she expected to learn just a little about what happened between her and Elsa in Arendelle.
She didn't expect her to tell the whole story, or to find out that the ending was more devastating than she could imagine.
"I never wanted to break my promise to her," Anna had said. "But Emma… if you saw what I saw…"
Emma clenched her hand and pressed her forearm against the roof of her car. "Why would you use the urn if you didn't know what it did?"
"…Because I didn't have a choice. Elsa's magic looked like it was killing her."
And if Elsa didn't so firmly believe that the urn only stole magic, Anna would have never considered it in the first place. Both sisters were at fault, but neither deserved the pain they suffered because of it.
Emma looked up to the apartment building, knowing Elsa was inside. What would she say to her now that she knew the truth? That she was sorry and things would get better? That Anna still loved her even though she accidentally trapped her in an urn for a year?
As if a year wasn't bad enough, what if it was longer than that? After Zelena dropped the urn through the time portal, it could have ended up anywhere in the past. A hundred years could have gone by before Elsa was rescued.
That thought alone scared her as she entered the building and ascended the staircase towards home. If the time portal never reactivated after Zelena's defeat, if she and Killian never went to investigate it… hell, if the past Rumplestiltskin didn't trap them in the vault, and if Killian didn't open that cupboard on a whim and take the urn out…
Elsa wouldn't be here right now.
A warm energy pulsed through her hand when she reached for the doorknob, shocking her fingers when she touched the metal. She snatched her hand back in surprise, snapped out of the thought of Elsa being stuck in that urn for centuries, waiting for Rumplestiltskin or someone else to release her. Call it destiny, but there was no doubt that Emma's uncanny influence as the savior was what rescued Elsa from her doomed fate.
She would be proud of such an accomplishment, but she still feared in knowing that one misstep during her foray into the past could have cost Elsa everything. The next time someone's fate fell into her hands, would she be able to save them, too?
With a heavy sigh, she opened the door to the apartment, greeted by Henry's warm smile from the kitchen table. "Hey, kid," she said with a tired smirk as she closed the door behind her. She noticed the books he had stacked on the table, as well as the notebook he was frantically working in. "Wow, did your teachers go homework crazy or what?"
"It's… not exactly homework," he said, cringing. "It's part of Operation: Mongoose."
She raised a skeptical brow. "Okay. And Operation: Mongoose is…?"
"Top secret," he said with a wink.
"Of course it is," Emma sighed. She put her hands in her pockets and looked around the apartment, noting how quiet it was. She knew David was working at the sheriff's office, and Mary-Margaret was probably putting in overtime with her new job as the mayor of Storybrooke; she often took Neal with her as well, afraid to let him out of sight after nearly losing him to the Wicked Witch. She looked to the corner of the room where an easel and paint supplies were set up, but the resident artist was nowhere in sight. "Is Elsa sleeping already?" she asked, turning to look up at the dark loft.
Henry shook his head. "No, she went out shopping after Belle walked her home. She said she ran out of blue paint."
"…You're kidding. You believed her?" Exasperated, Emma gave him a wild look when he nodded. "Henry, Elsa owns, like, half the town's supply of blue paint! How could you just let her go? She's not supposed to be out by herself!"
He shrugged. "The crafts store is just down the street, and she said she didn't want to bother anyone. She can handle herself," he said, watching Emma as she pulled out her phone and started to pace. "She's practically a superhero."
"Yeah. Tragic backstory and emotional baggage included," Emma grumbled. "How long has she been gone?"
"I don't know. Maybe two hours? In my defense, she is really picky about paint colors," he argued when Emma put the phone up to her ear and rolled her eyes. "Wait… is she missing? Can I help you find her?" he asked, excited at the idea of an adventure. "Come on, please? I should be old enough by now to go on a ride-along."
"Sorry, kid. Not because it could be dangerous, but I need someone to hold down the fort in case she comes back here. If anyone can keep her from running off again, it's you," she said with a smile, though the warm feeling was tarnished when she heard Elsa's voicemail message over the phone. "I just need a clue to start searching for her."
Henry rested his chin in his palm, deep in thought as he watched Emma wander over to Elsa's painting nook and start snooping around. "Well, in her story, she ran away into the mountains and made an ice palace to live in. Marshmallow said she used to visit him there before the first curse. It was like a second home to her."
"Too bad it's a world away, otherwise it'd be easy to—"
She paused, staring at an unfinished painting left on the easel. At first glance it was truly an artistic piece, one of sharp geometrical shapes each in their own shade of light blue. Some were brighter than others as to catch the light of the sun or moon, and the longer Emma stared, the more the shapes started to look like pillars. There were layers of them with the ones in the back standing taller than the ones in front.
It looked like a fortified wall of ice.
"Henry, if you don't hear from me in an hour, call David and tell him what's happening."
Please be here.
She zipped up her jacket as she stepped out of her car, face to face again with the biggest mistake Elsa never wanted to make in Storybrooke. There was no sign of it starting to melt over the last week; if anything, it looked sturdier, and the blue magic made it glow from within as dusk settled over the town.
Though the wall lie dormant, she knew this was no place to wander without caution, especially if its creator was nearby. Emma shoved her hands into her pockets, searching along the wall as she made her careful approach. "Elsa? It's me, Emma! Are you out here?" She stopped walking to listen for a response and heard nothing. "You weren't at the apartment, and the crafts store closed early today. Not that I really believed you were there…" she mumbled, looking down at the snow surrounding the base of the wall.
At first glance, there was nothing peculiar about it, but on closer observation, she noticed a faint trail of footprints leading from the street to the hole in the wall. Emma recognized the diamond-shaped pattern in the soles; only a pair of converse shoes could make prints so distinct.
She hurried to the hole and ducked down to look through, relieved to find Elsa on the other side. She stood alone in the middle of the cave with her back to her, cringing as she dropped her glowing hands to her sides.
"Hey… Elsa?"
Emma kept still, waiting for an answer until she saw Elsa collapse to her knees, breathing in hard, sharp gasps as she struggled and failed to get back to her feet. Without caution, Emma dove through the ice tunnel and pulled herself through the other side, slipping a little as soon as her feet hit the frozen floor. "Whoa, wait! Don't move!" she warned, keeping Elsa from trying again when she saw her hunch over. She slid to a stop and knelt by her side, careful of her poor state when she saw her hands clenched tight against her heart. "What happened?"
"I… I'm sorry."
"Don't be. The apology's appreciated but totally unnecessary right now; god, you're freezing!" Emma said, snapping her hand back as soon as she touched Elsa's shoulder. "What are you doing out here by yourself?"
Shivering, Elsa looked up at the wall. "I tried to thaw it, but I can't." She closed her eyes and shook her head, dejected by her failure. "I just can't do it."
It was sad to hear her sound so defeated, but it was worse seeing her so physically hindered at the same time. As Emma knelt there by Elsa's side, watching her start to calm herself and breathe deep, she realized this situation was vaguely similar to what happened a week ago in this very cave. She remembered being amazed by Elsa's power as she thawed the hole in the wall for them to escape through, but she would never forget the pain on her face as she cast her magic.
"Elsa… does this happen every time you try to thaw something you made?"
With a quiet sigh, Elsa nodded and dropped her hands to her lap, revealing a patch of frost on the left side of her sweater. Shaped like her snowflake, it sprouted over her heart the exact same way Anna had recalled during her story. Left alone or provoked even the slightest bit, and Elsa's condition could turn a whole lot worse.
It forced Emma to make a call right then. "If this never happened before you came back to Storybrooke, then we're going to need help figuring out why it's happening at all. Your magic shouldn't be hurting you like this," she said, cutting Elsa off from a protest. "We should go talk to Regina. She won't want to see me, but she might be able to help us."
"…What's the point?"
Elsa opened her eyes, ignoring Emma's perplexed stare to look at her crown instead. It rested on the ground in front of her knees, maimed as a quarter of its gold was completely gone, nothing but black ash upon the pure blue ice.
"We're already too late."