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Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen.

Elsa quickly learned that hell wasn't a place.

Hell was watching Anna die.

Hell was watching her not die.

Hell was waiting—hoping—for her to wake up.

You're okay, Anna. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It's okay. It's over now. You're okay. Wake up. Please wake up.

Elsa slouched on her stool and rested her chin on Anna's bed, content for the moment with reassuring herself that she was still alive. The blonde's tight splint bound her arm to her bandaged chest. Everywhere hurt. But despite the pins and needles it gouged up her shin, she couldn't stop bouncing her leg.

Don't do this to me. I love you so much. Please come back.

Elsa stared at the princess' still features. It was one of the few things that kept her sanity. It wasn't like there was much else she could do in her current state. And even if she could, she would never choose to leave Anna's side.

The faint husk of each inhale through the princess' parted mouth proved she clung to life, but terror raked its claws down Elsa's back as she glanced at the mound of blankets and furs hiding the lift of Anna's chest. She need only to stop breathing to become the corpse she looked so much like. Elsa didn't dare blink lest she miss the breath that could very well be Anna's last.

Anna was sick. Of course she was sick. She died. But then she didn't. And now she was close to dying again.

Elsa already lost her on the fjord. The gods must truly hate her if she has to see her die a second time.

She hated this fear—this unadulterated fear that gnawed at her from the inside out like a frantic animal trying to escape. It made her nauseous and gave her headaches and never let her sleep and made her feel so damn vulnerable.

To finally have someone worth losing…

She almost hated it.

Why…, Elsa thought for the thousandth time, absentmindedly rubbing the back of Anna's hand with her thumb. Why would you do it? Didn't Anna know that, without her, there was almost nothing left for Elsa? Didn't she know it would have been far better for Elsa to have died instead? Didn't she know she had a family and friends and a place to call home she could come back to if she didn't have the blonde?

Didn't she know saving her was the worst hell imaginable?

Elsa took a deep breath to calm herself. She tried not to think about the past. Now, she just wanted her back. She missed Anna, and it hurt. She missed watching her read, how she would hold a book inches in front of her face and unconsciously make ridiculous faces that mirrored her thoughts on the passages. She missed laying with her in her cove, how she would cling to her like a small animal and softly murmur in her sleep when she petted her hair. She missed the warmth she brought her, how she could figure out everything about her and just know how to melt even her coldest days.

And in a few minutes, Elsa lost everything. Anna andher mother.

She cried for them for days—gods, did she cry.

To finally have someone worth losing…It was a dangerous thing, indeed.

The shine of sun on fresh snow made Elsa glance out the window. It had been days since she'd been outside. She wasn't allowed outside. It was another thing she missed. She wanted to run and breathe fresh air and feel the snow crunch under her feet and her lungs burn and her face get chapped and sleep in the dappled sunlight under ancient trees.

Having a whole castle to herself didn't negate the fact that she was a prisoner, and she had never gotten used to being in a cage.

"Rr…mhn…"

Elsa's attention snapped back to the bed when Anna murmured something unintelligible and tried to fidget. The shape-shifter grasped her twitching fingers like a lifeline. Her head grew dizzy with concern, her utter powerlessness to help threatening to open the floodgates of panic again.

She would give anything—anything—for Anna to just wake up and be safe.

A rhythmic knock and the scent of dewy grass and stables announced Kristoff's entry. Elsa bristled. The knight was her friend, but at the moment he may as well have been her enemy, along with most everybody else in the castle.

The council was in charge because Arendelle was in a 'state of emergency.' The capital was in shambles, the ruling monarch and his only heir were gravely injured and in comas, and a wounded monster—exactly like the one that caused the 'emergency'—was living in the castle.

Kristoff said he was 'under orders.' He had to follow the council's commands. He had to keep her under constant guard. He had to keep her from leaving the castle. He had to make sure she only saw Anna twice a day.

Fuck the council.

Fuck Kristoff.

A list of her enemies and her allies would be a single column right now.

They know what I am. They're afraid of me. She almost didn't blame them. She was afraid of herself, too. They should be afraid of me.

Elsa didn't spare the knight even a glance as his footsteps creaking over Anna's bedroom floor. A muted click accompanied the shutting door. Elsa's insides boiled. She could feel the pity in the Kristoff's stare. The hand of her broken arm clenched into a fist that brought tears to her eyes.

Go. Away.

"Hey, Elsa…," he tentatively began in the tone he used every time he dragged her out of Anna's room.

Elsa went deathly still as Kristoff approached the bed. Narrowed arctic eyes looked just far enough in his direction to find him in her periphery. She snarled when he got half-way across the room.

Luckily, for his sake, Kristoff got the hint. "Come on, Elsa. Getting mad at me isn't going to accomplish anything."

There was a silence filled only by the fireplace spitting when a log collapsed into the embers.

"Anna's going to be okay. You know that. But acting like this is only hurting you and doing nothing for her. You have to stop it."

He said it like an order, and Elsa almost saw red.

Kristoff sighed. "You know what? Fine. That's fine." His hands slapped his armored sides. "I'm sorry that your only way to cope with anything is to push people away. But Anna isn't here right now, and you have to accept that and learn to live without." He strode to the door, but he paused with his hand on the handle. "I'll—I'll convince Morten to give you half-an-hour more, okay? But then you have to get back to Mari and Dr. Geri to change your bandages. And then…"

And then I'll be locked in my room because everyone's too terrified of me freezing them to death.

"…then Gerda will bring you lunch, alright? And try to eat it this time. You'll get better faster if you have some food in you."

Elsa didn't respond. She'd rather not think about how her time with Anna was running out, or how she'd panic from not knowing for sure if she was okay.

The shutting of the door when Kristoff left calmed the fringes of Elsa's nerves. She took a deep breath, letting Anna's scent of summer mornings and leather warm her throat and swell in her chest before slipping a comforting heat through her blood.

She wanted to beat her guards and freeze the door shut, but her last fight with her 'escort' had left her bedridden for the rest of the day and drunk on whatever the hell was forced down her throat to keep her calm. It was a short fight, considering that her powers wouldn't manifest when she wanted them to and that she couldn't shape-shift with her broken arm.

Elsa upturned her palm, trying to summon a flurry but only managing to make a faintly humming, flickering glow and a thin veil of frost over her hand.

She was powerless.

She had prayed and wished for years for this curse to be taken away, but now that it was gone, she desperately wanted it back. She needed it back. She was so vulnerable without it, especially since she was injured. She couldn't protect herself—she couldn't protect Anna.

It's just recovering…or something, she told herself. It's only been a few days—wait, no, a week. It's been a week. Well, I…I'm sure it'll be back in another day or so. It has to be…right?

Elsa didn't notice she had gotten up until her right leg gave out. Her ankle was badly sprained. She hadn't exactly let the castle's soldiers take Anna away after she thawed on the fjord, and while the blonde may have been too injured to put up a fight, she sure as hell tried.

Elsa cursed her ankle and shakily limped around the bed, almost falling again before she made it to the other vacant side where she carefully peeled away a portion of the blankets and furs and maneuvered in. Tension washed out of her body and she melted into the mattress when she pressed flush against Anna's side.

She stared at the redhead's face. Constellations of her own design were littered over her nose and cheeks and looked a tad paler than they used to be.

Anna scowled in her sleep and fidgeted again. A distressed, whining purr instinctively clawed out of Elsa's throat.

She hesitated. Gods, Elsa hesitated to rest her head on Anna's shoulder. She couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle into her, copper-red hair nesting around her face and filling her senses with Anna.

Anna was alive. Her breaths grated Elsa's ears. Her slow pulse thrummed under her skin and consumed all of Elsa's sensitive senses. This was the truest form of torture—to have Anna alive but not. The gods taunted her with each passing day without the light Anna brought to her life, like how a master keeps a bone just out of a chained hound's range.

Elsa closed her eyes.

I love you, Anna. Please wake up.

Please…

Elsa was getting tired of the looks she got.

She wouldn't have cared about them in the least, usually, but limping around the castle under an endless supply of prying eyes made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She felt cornered. Trapped—led around the castle by an invisible lead. She wasn't weak. But right now, she was helpless, and her instincts wouldn't allow her to escape the terror that restlessly squirmed under her skin, locking up her muscles and making her jump away from her own shadow.

The castle-folk apparently didn't know that her hearing could easily catch their hushed whispers across the long hallways and tall staircases. They almost sounded conflicted in their opinion of her. She was a dangerous oddity. She could tear the city apart just like her mother had, but she had also saved it. Some said she was divine punishment sent to discipline Arendelle for its past sins. Some said she was a savior. She looked strange enough to be some sort of otherworldly being—white hair like the inner heart of a forge's fire, blue eyes like the wolves that stalked their children, and power over the winter that killed people by the dozens.

It didn't exactly help that the look in her eyes made all of them want to run.

All of them except Gerda, Anna's handmaid.

Gerda was the third member of Elsa's 'escort.' The brunet hadn't stopped hovering over her since she came to the castle.

Dammit, the blonde thought as she limped down the hall, almost panting. She had barely gone a handful of yards before she had to stop and lean against the wall to keep from collapsing.

A castle servant turned a corner and, upon seeing Elsa catching her breath and trying to ignore the blossoming pain in her body, pelted in the opposite direction. The acrid scent of sweat and adrenaline in his wake rolled over Elsa's tongue, her instincts perking at the presence of a creature reacting to fight or flight.

"Please, Elsa," came Gerda's soft voice next to her. "You're hurting yourself. Dr. Geri instructed me to help you walk since crutches would irritate the lacerations on your chest. Here, let me help you."

The brunet reached for her arm, and Elsa growled weakly. Gerda paused, but she was clearly unfazed by the warning, her brow furrowing in stubborn concern.

Cold metal gently grabbed Elsa's shoulder. "Elsa…," Kristoff warned. "…I will carry you again if I have to."

Elsa spared him and the other knight, Morten, a cold glance before Gerda quietly pushed away his gauntlet.

"You're only making your injuries worse. I must insist you let me help you," she said. The handmaid raised Elsa's good arm and tried to wrap it around her shoulders.

The grip on Elsa's arm felt too sudden and too strong. She hated being dragged around—especially by Gerda. The older woman had probably never been in a fight in her entire life, and yet she would almost definitely overpower Elsa at the moment.

Elsa snapped, the sleepless nights and endless stress of the past week finally ripping away her pathetic grip on her self-control.

She shoved off Gerda's hand with a vicious snarl, grabbing a handful of the handmaid's dress collar to push her to arm's-length. "Don't touch me," she ground out in an almost wheeze, baring her sharp canines.

Morten immediately drew his sword. Elsa felt its cool tip rest at the base of her neck. "Let her go! Now!"

Gerda looked surprised at him. Elsa would have thought it was obvious the knight wanted an excuse to kill her. His hand had been twitching on the pommel of his sword all day.

Elsa glared at him. "Please…," she rasped, cursing the last of her pants and the sweat dribbling into her eye, "…point that at me if it makes you feel better. Be my guest."

Morten's face swelled a light crimson, but before he could do anything, Kristoff shoved him away.

"Enough!" The blonde knight grabbed Elsa's wrist from Gerda's collar and pressed it into the small of her back. He gently pushed her against the wall to keep her from doing anything else stupid that would likely end with her getting injured again. Elsa winced as her broken arm was sandwiched against her abdomen.

"That's enough, Elsa. You need to calm down. Now. What the hell is wrong with you?" He waited for a response, but Elsa gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain flaring in her arm.

Elsa's exhausted nerves suddenly burned with frantic adrenaline. She was trying her hardest to escape Kristoff's hold, trying to summon at least a hint of her powers, but she was too injured and her curse wouldn't respond.

Her breathing become choppy. Her panicked mind was losing the threads of logical thought, defaulting to the primal instincts to survive that were wrestling in her head.

Her back was exposed. She was pinned. She couldn't get free. She couldn't do anything.

It…Just Kristoff. Just Kristoff.

Kristoff was her friend. Kristoff wouldn't hurt her. Kris…wait, who? Who had her trapped? Someone had her. Who had her? She was trapped. He had her. She had to get away.

She struggled pathetically against the wall, chest heaving. She didn't notice that Kristoff had let her go until she fell to her knees and felt the carpet rub burns into her skin.

Get away. Not safe. Hurt. Can't fight back. Can't use powers. Not safe. Can't fight back.

Elsa grabbed her hair with her free hand. Her chest hurt. She must have been shaking. Her quick breathes made her mind all fuzzy and white…and red.

Suddenly, she pressed against something warm. Familiarity—faint as it was—accompanied its scent. It wrapped around her shoulders and gently moved her back and forth.

"E l a …o kay. I t …o a y."

The words were like cotton on her ears. Her skin felt numb, but then the pain came back. She had moved too much. Everything hurt again.

Something was moving in her hair. "…s af e. Y o 're ok a y."

Her mind's gradual shift from panic to confusion helped her calm down. She breathed in time with the rocking and fell limp.

Safe...Okay. Yes, safe.

The world finally became clear again. Elsa felt Gerda's throat rasp against her shoulder as she spoke, slowing her rocking to a stop when she noticed her attention. The handmaid waited for her eyes to contract back into focus before she gently pushed her to arm's-length.

"Elsa…" Coffee-brown eyes met arctic blue, and Gerda spoke with slow, clear enunciation. "We're not going to hurt you." Elsa swallowed dryly and bit the inside of her cheek. "You're going to Dr. Geri for a check-up. We're here to help you. We're not your enemies. Do you understand?"

Her voice was kind but firm, and Elsa cautiously allowed herself to trust it, if for no other reason than because she was too exhausted to deal with the consequences of resisting. Gerda gave her a small smile and squeezed her shoulders before helping her to her feet. Elsa's legs shook terribly. Gerda guided the blonde's arm over her shoulders and pulled Elsa to lean on her, her other hand around her waist to keep her steady and firmly pressed against her.

Kristoff stepped into her vision. He looked horrified. "Elsa, are…are you okay? I am so so sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Ser Kristoff, I beg your pardon, but I think Elsa needs some chamomile milk and opium extract. Shall we continue?" Gerda asked, jutting her chin down the hall.

"Ugh…Yes—yes, of course. Absolutely." He gestured for her to lead the way, and Gerda bowed her head before walking with Elsa in tow. The blonde tested the handmaid's grip, but it was unmoving. She couldn't pry free even if she tried.

Elsa hung her head, resigning herself to being dragged down the hall. She didn't miss Morten's disappointed glare as he sheathed his sword.

They reached that damned off-yellow door a few turns and a staircase later. Why the hell would they paint the door yellow when everything else in the castle was so…so not yellow?

"Ah! There you are, Elsa," Dr. Geri said as they entered. He was a short man. Very short. The top of his head was bald and freckled, and his glasses were three times bigger than Gerda's. "Looking forward to clean dressings, yes? The old poultice must be dry and dreadfully itchy by now."

Elsa gave him a non-committal nod. Gerda led her to one of the beds and had the decency to let Elsa sit by herself, the blonde barely resisting a grateful sigh as her legs hung over the mattress.

The tiny doctor scrambled about the bed as he led her through a series of check-ups and stretches. 'Physical therapy' he called it. It was supposed to keep all the scar tissue from becoming too tight and hindering her flexibility or something.

"Right. Very good, very good. I see you've been doing the exercises I've assigned you—well, mostly." Dr. Geri hummed a series of habitual noises and climbed onto a stool beside his desk. "Your ankle is healing splendidly. The bruising looks horrific still, but that's just dead blood beneath the skin. Bedrest as often as possible, of course, and keep your foot elevated. And absolutely no, and I mean no lifting under any circumstances."

He shot her a pointed scowl, and Elsa looked away, mumbling under her breath. She would never admit out loud that attempting to drag her thin mattress to Anna's room was a bad idea. It made her ankle hurt like hell, but the fight with her escort ensured she was physically unable to attempt it again (Kristoff didn't arrive to carry her back to her room until the end of the fight. Elsa can't quite remember that part, exactly. Everything had hurt a lot. The on-duty soldiers were apparently quite mad that a woman who could barely walk was able to sneak past them with a whole mattress).

Dr. Geri slowly trotted towards the bed, his calculating eyes roaming over her. It disturbed her. He could find ten things wrong with her just from looking at the way she breathed. His gaze finally settled on her heavily splinted arm. "Hmmm. I'm curious to see how your arm is doing. Hopefully, your constant fidgeting hasn't displaced it again."

Elsa shivered. That was the only reason she hadn't tried fighting her guards again. How the hell the doctor thought re-breaking her already broken arm was supposed to fix it was beyond her.

"But! The small fracture in your elbow should be stable now! Nowhere near usable, of course, but it is preferable to begin gentle physical therapy as soon as possible to ensure you retain your full range of motion."

He turned away before doing a double-take and dropping something in Elsa's lap. Chocolate. The doctor had guessed correctly when he tried using the same 'taming' method he used on Anna. Elsa hated to admit it worked so well. She slowly nibbled the dark chunk, savoring the treat while the doctor scurried into a closet and returned with a handful of healing things.

"Gerda, would you mind assisting me with changing her dressings? Mari is preforming a house-call in town, assisting a midwife."

Gerda bowed her head. "Of course, sir."

"Very good, very good. Kristoff, Morten, if you could leave the room, please? I'll send Elsa out with Gerda once we're finished."

Morten looked like he'd just been insulted. He glanced at Elsa. "With all due respect, Dr. Geri, we are under strict orders—"

"Morten, it's fine," Kristoff said. "Being right out the door isn't going to change anything, just like earlier. It's not like she's going to off them and jump out the window without us noticing."

"But—"

"Come on." He opened the door and ushered the knight out.

Morten stopped the closing door with his armored foot. "Knock twice if it—if she gives you any trouble."

Elsa could have sworn Gerda rolled her eyes. The small doctor waved his hands. "Yes, yes, as you say. Now, shoo, I have a patient to attend to."

The door closed, and Dr. Geri turned to Elsa with a grin that sported a gap on the right side. "Now, my lady, let's get you out of that old linen. Oh! And also…" He jumped on the stool by his desk and grabbed something from an oblong jar that precariously rested on a stack of papers. "…since Ser Morten made it quite clear that you are such a threat to my and miss Gerda's lives, I should give you something to keep those fangs away and occupied, yes?" He chuckled, a sound like repeatedly stepping on a small dog's tail, and Elsa found three more pieces of chocolate dropped into her hand.

Gerda tried to hide her snicker behind a polite hand, and Elsa laughed despite herself.

Elsa ate half of the chocolate while Gerda settled on the mattress beside her and took off the first layer of bandages, and Dr. Geri went to a stone table in the corner of the room to mix the new salve, humming while he worked. Elsa liked it when he hummed. Each song created a trance that tricked her into thinking she liked being in his room. She imagined he was a pretty good singer.

"Oh, rats." The doctor turned to the two women with a cocked jaw and a pout. "I hate to ask this of you, Gerda, but would you mind if I leave for a few moments? The new splint I prepared is too short. I think there may be something long enough in the smithy across the courtyard."

"Of course, sir."

"Excellent!" Dr. Geri jumped off his stool and appeared before them with a bowl of greenish paste. The sharp smell of the freshly crushed herbs and bitter somethings stung Elsa's sensitive senses and made her lungs thick. "Here we are! Usual warnings as before, my lady. The poultice is a bit chill and will sting for a minute or two. Miss Gerda, you remember how to apply it, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good, very good. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The doctor quickly left. The sudden quite felt heavy after his cheerful humming.

"I'm applying the poultice now," Gerda said. Elsa silently appreciated the warning before the handmaid pressed the salve into the thick cut on her cheek. Damn a 'little sting'—the medicine hurt like hell. She lasted only a few seconds before she jumped away with a yelped wince.

Gerda drew back, her tone heavy with a familiar level of concern that made Elsa grind her teeth. "I'm sorry for hurting you. The cut is deep, and the medicine needs to—"

Elsa cut her off with a growl. "I'm fine."

Gerda's brow lowered in the beginnings of a scowl. "You don't look fine, my lady."

"Then stop looking."

"It hurts." She said it as a fact. "It's okay to admit it."

"I said, I'm fine."

"I understand you're scared, but there's no shame in admitting that you're hurting."

Elsa said nothing, staring at a hole in the wallpaper while her good hand clenched into a whitened fist.

The medicine bowl clattered as Gerda set it on the mattress and rubbed her temple. "Why is it that people like you always act so bull-headed?"

Elsa turned on her. "Oh, really? People like me? So you've dealt with shape-shifting ice monsters before? Wonderful! Where do they live? We can meet up and exchange stories of how we ruin the lives of everyone we meet." Elsa hated that her voice sounded so scratchy and sickly. Those were probably the longest sentences she's said in days.

Gerda calmly arched an eyebrow. "No. I mean insufferable children who throw fits."

Elsa's mouth opened and closed dumbly. She fumbled for words—fumbled for a proper grasp of what the handmaid said as her anger took hold of her again. "You—A child?! I am not—!"

"Things aren't going your way, and instead of being proactive about them, you're sulking and taking out your frustrations on others. Just like a child."

Elsa snarled. "You have no idea—no godsdamn idea—what happened if you think my problems are 'things that aren't going my way.'"

"Your 'problems,' as they now stand, are of your own creation, Elsa. That much is clear."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Elsa was moving too much, way too much, but the pain was a dull throb at the back of her mind at the moment. "I didn't ask for this to happen! I didn't make Hans—"

"That is beyond my point!" Gerda snapped, her quiet voice somehow booming while keeping its gentle tone. "Yes, Prince Hans hurt you—and all of Arendelle—, but that is in the past. You can do nothing to change it. You're driving yourself to an early grave by resisting anyone's help right now. If you truly want things to get better, do something about it."

Elsa scoffed. "What, do you believe my powers can magically wake Anna up? That they can heal me? Surprise, but they don't work like that."

They aren't working at all.

Gerda heaved a heavy exhale through her nose, like a bull rearing to fight. "You push everyone away because you refuse to let others know your vulnerabilities. You don't want to appear weak, so do something about it—do what you can about it. Eat your food. Take your medicine. Do your therapy. Try to hope for the best instead of preparing for the worst. You have to take care of yourself first before you can hope to take care of anyone else."

Elsa couldn't find the energy to be mad anymore. She subconsciously thought about her un-touched breakfast and cold dinner sitting in her room. She must have been a mess. Even a handmaid could see through her.

She was pathetic.

"…I know you're scared." Gerda leaned towards the young shape-shifter and offered her a soft smile. "And I understand. I truly do. You are much like Princess Anna, my dear. But she wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, and neither do I. Or Kristoff, for that matter."

Elsa couldn't meet her eyes. The pain of moving too much finally caught up with her, and she was exhausted. "Why do you care? Didn't you listen to your kin or king? I'm a monster."

"Well, you do tend to give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at. That's typically not a good way of making friends. But otherwise…" Gerda trailed off with her hand. "…I have been working in this castle since before the pri—before Anna was born. Most of the old staff and I raised her after her mother's death, bless her soul. I know her, and I trust her—and by extension, you. She's able to see the best in people even if they can't see it themselves. She of all people would know even monsters have hearts and mothers."

Elsa suddenly felt very, very hollow.

Anna…

"…Anna was a fool to love someone like me."

Gerda went silent. The large grandfather clock on the opposite wall ticked the degrees of discomfort building between the two.

"When Anna was young, she cried a lot." Gerda leaned back and laced her fingers. "It wasn't uncommon for her to run to one of us whom she trusted most to be her shoulder to cry on. Even until a few months ago this was true. Then, she was taken, and when she came back, she had stopped crying." The handmaid faintly smiled. "None of us knew why. We were quite concerned, actually. But now I know she just found a better shoulder."

Elsa's lip quivered, and her vision grew misty. She turned and coughed to shake it away. She wouldn't be so quick to tear up, especially in front of someone, if she had gotten proper sleep.

Gerda placed a hand on her knee. "Anna is a smart woman. She wouldn't give away her affections easily. I saw her react that day in court. I had never seen her so stricken."

Elsa smiled wryly. "And now she's lying on her deathbed because of me."

"Not because of you, for you," Gerda said. Elsa was too tired to resist when she picked up her chin and looked her in the eye. "Anna did what she did because she believed you were worth dying for. And if she doesn't make it, gods forbid,…It is possible to find the strength to begin again. She would have wanted that for you, and she knew you would be capable of doing it."

Elsa shook her head. "How—Why are you saying these things? You don't know me. You don't know me and Anna. Why—"

"I already told you that you are very much like the princess. I have only served you for a week—and I am, admittedly, putting a lot of faith in you given the circumstances—, but, as I said, I trust Princess Anna. And if she trusts you enough to make such a sacrifice as she did, I should trust you as well."

Trust. Elsa could barely trust herself at the moment. Could barely trust what her next word or move might be with her body and mind working on overdrive.

Guilt suddenly sunk its claws into Elsa's chest, her face burning with embarrassed shame. She knew she wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind at the moment. She was walking a dangerous line between panic and stress, and she dipped into either every other minute. Her gut twisted into an icy fist at the thought of Gerda, Kristoff, and Morten seeing her panic. Seeing her so weak. Seeing her become her own enemy.

And yet…Gerda trusted her.

"I…I'm sorry…for earlier," Elsa mumbled, fiddling with a loose bandage near her knee. "I didn't mean—I didn't want to hurt you."

"You have nothing to apologize for, my dear." Gerda straightened the wrinkles out of her apron before turning her attention to the last of Elsa's dressings. "You just try to get some proper rest from now on, and try not to fret over negative possibilities. I'll ask Dr. Geri about giving you a stronger sleeping formula tonight. You should have a clearer head in the morning."

Elsa made an affirmative noise and shifted in her seat.

Gerda wrung her wrists as if shaking off the conversation before she picked up the bowl of medicine. "As informative as this conversation has been, you need the new poultice before your wounds dry. Oh! And as for the pain…" She took a handkerchief from her apron's pocket and tied it into a knot. "I suggest you bite this. It would be a shame for the princess to wake up and see you've ground your teeth to your gums."

Elsa bitterly laughed. Anna would throw a fuss and probably beat her over the head with the nearest thing to her. She made a mental note to take the candle sconces off her nightstand.

She anchored her teeth in the knotted cloth. Humming her approval, Gerda smeared the paste onto her cheek and bandaged it with fresh cloth. Elsa gagged and stifled her groan. The medicine suffocated her. It would be a miracle if she could ever smell properly again.

They sat in silence for a good while as Gerda worked. At some point, she coerced Elsa into drinking a few medicines that numbed the stinging pain of the poultice and softly clouded her thoughts.

Gerda was starting to work on her back when Dr. Geri reappeared with a few pieces of short boards. "I have returned!" he sing-songed as he closed the door with his hip. "I trust everything is going well?"

"Yes, sir," Gerda said. Elsa blinked owlishly at him, her medicine-blurry mind needing a few seconds to remember him.

The doctor placed the wood on his desk before joining Gerda behind Elsa. "Splendid, splendid! Everything is moving along nicely! And the stitching has held up quite well. Give me a few minutes, Elsa, and I'll have a new splint ready for your arm. Gerda, you did give her something for the pain, correct?"

"Yes, sir. Two spoons of chamomile milk and opium extract about fifteen minutes ago." She paused to look at Elsa's drooping eyes. "I would say they have taken full effect by now."

Stupid…scentless…disgusting milk…unnatural…'S just downright…downright unnatural...

Dr. Geri soon appeared in front of Elsa with a new splint in hand. He tapped on it in time with his humming while he waited for Gerda to finish Elsa's back and help him put it on her.

Gerda broke their quiet by clearing her throat. "Pardon my asking, Elsa, but where did you get your tattoo? I've never seen one with color before. It's beautiful."

Elsa scowled. Ta…Tattoo? Is that even…Is that even the common tongue? What… "Mhut?" she muttered around the cloth in her mouth.

"Ah, yes, yes, I must agree. Peculiar choice as well. So you were born in Arendelle? I will admit I'm quite surprised given the circumstances."

Elsa took out the biting gag. "What are you talking….talking about?" Her words sounded like they were globules of water being forced from her mouth. "What…Where tattoo?"

They both looked at her with surprise. "Um…yes. The one on your back, my lady. It's quite large." The doctor looked at her strangely. "Do you…not remember getting it?"

Elsa clumsily pushed off the bed, shoving away Gerda's grab for her good arm and not feeling the pain from the sudden movement until she had limped to the mirror on the adjacent wall.

Her legs threatened to buckle as she twisted her neck to see what the hell they were talking about—

Oh.

Oh.

That…was new.

Longest chapter I've written so far. Hope ya enjoyed.

-REKA