Elsa stood by the window, observing the elves crisscrossing the courtyard below. They were going about their business as though the world weren't full of suffering. As if there weren't a man she loved fighting for his life just down the hall. As if that same man wouldn't betray her someday. A spiderweb of ice crackled onto the glass counterpane, shaking her from her dark reverie. Her powers surfaced unbidden so easily these days. She concentrated on deep, slow breathing until the icy web slowly melted away. The sound of pacing footsteps behind her continued, as it had for the past hour.
"You're going to wear a hole in the bloody carpet. Would you sit down? You're driving me mad!" grumbled Merida through the feather clenched between her teeth. She was sitting in front of the fire, a pile of newly fletched arrows at her feet and another underway in her nimble fingers.
"They've been gone for hours! What if the elves have done something to them?" replied Hic, continuing to pace, his metal leg making an arrhythmic cadence on the heavy rug. "I should go check on Toothless."
"Oh, for heaven's sake! There's no reason to worry," she replied with a touch of asperity as she dropped the completed arrow into the pile with its mates. "If they meant us harm, we'd be locked up tight in the dungeon by now, not treated as welcome guests. They even gave me supplies to restock our weapons!"
Hic's scowled at her. "That doesn't mean we can trust them."
"They're probably feeding Toothless anything his dragon heart desires, and we're snug up cozy in a comfortable castle. I'm not going to bellyache about it. Right, Elsa?" asked Merida. "Elsa? Hellloooo?"
"Huh? What's the matter?"
"Hic is wearing a hole in the bloody rug. Tell him to knock off worrying!"
"Hic's right. We should never let our guard down," murmured Elsa softly, her thoughts straying to the coppery-haired man lying wounded down the hall, and his dark-haired sister. Morgana always crouched in the shadows of her memory, lurking like a spider. "Trust can be betrayed."
Hic nodded in grim agreement. Merida rolled her eyes and turned back to fletching her arrows. Hic headed for the door, only to have it swing open to admit Killian, Emma, Moriah, and a tall dark-haired elvish man in the midst of an intense discussion.
"-and there was no one else we knew, Swan. I'm sure," Killian was saying as he closed the door behind them.
"And she had an eye patch? What the hell was that about?" replied Emma, clearly perplexed.
"No idea. But I'd wager anything you like that it was Regina," he replied. He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a swig as he flung himself down into one of the chairs by the fire. Killian gestured to the stranger with them, who was studying the group thoughtfully. "Everyone, meet Daínn. He's an elf, though not the same sort of elf as everyone else around this place. Bit of a touchy subject. He'll be joining us on the journey from here on out. Daínn, this is Elsa, Merida and Hic."
"The honor is mine," said the elf, sketching an elegant bow. His dark eyes paused for a long moment on Merida in frank admiration. Her halo of fiery curls was suffused with the orange glow of the fireplace. She was staring back at the elf with her mouth hanging slightly open, a half-finished arrow in her hands. He gave her a dazzling smile.
"What do you mean, joining?! And where've you been all day?" Hic demanded. He'd taken a half-step closer to Merida's chair, scowling at the new arrival and fingering the hilt of his Inferno sword.
"Hic's been pacing the room all day like a worried mum! I told him you weren't likely to be locked in the dungeon," snorted Merida, fumbling with the arrow in her lap and blushing scarlet under Daínn's gaze.
"As it happens, I was locked in the dungeon," replied Killian with a grin. He held up a hand to forestall questions. "With Daínn here, as a matter of fact. Long story short, Emma and I had an interesting afternoon involving a fair bit of trespassing and unauthorized use of magical artifacts-"
"Speak for yourself, pirate," muttered Emma with an eye roll.
"-resulting," continued Killian, ignoring his wife, "in my temporary incarceration. But it was for the best, in the end." He nodded at Daínn, who returned his nod gravely, with a meaningful glance at Moriah. The little girl was perched on her mother's lap, humming to herself. Elsa's heart gave a small lurch. She willed herself not to think about the trial, about the small blond-haired boy she left there.
"Magical artifacts?" asked Merida nervously. Anything to do with magic both excited and frightened the girl. Odd, for someone who flew without hesitation on the back of a Night Fury.
"Yeah," answered Emma. "The Queen has a magic mirror that allowed us to ask a single question each. Assuming we can trust what it told us, we're going to go ahead with the bonding thing. It's important, for Moriah."
"You're sure? I mean, it's going to make this elf woman into Moriah's…what? Her bodyguard or something?" said Hic, who was still scowling suspiciously.
"Aye, that we are, mate. And not just her, either. Daínn here as well."
Hic's eyes went round at that. "You've got to be kidding me! Do you know anything about this guy? He was in jail! How do you know he's not a criminal!"
Killian raised an eyebrow. "Being imprisoned in a dungeon doesn't necessarily say anything about one's character, lad. I should know," he replied, taking another swig from the flask with a wink at his wife. "But come to think of it, you never answered my question about that, Daínn."
Daínn paused a moment as though trying to decide how to answer. "It's a tiresome story. All I will say is that I learned never to trust an enchantress. Particularly a beautiful one."
"I can't fault your logic a bit, mate, but that's not much of an answer," said Killian.
"Tell us why you were locked up, Daínn," said Emma, a firmness to her tone. "I need to know we can trust you. Killian saw something in the mirror that convinced him, but that doesn't mean I'll let this happen without knowing more about you."
The smile slipped from the elf's face. "It's nothing that need concern you, truly. Traveling to this realm from my own is not…easy. I was forced to make a deal with someone who proved untrustworthy, and then I encountered a patrol immediately upon my arrival. You saw how the elves here react to those of my kind. I was lucky they merely threw me in the dungeon, rather than killing me on sight."
"Sæfara said something about a blood feud?"
"Our peoples have shared a hundred generations of bloodshed. When the Crossings were sealed, it limited our conflicts to endless raids and revenge killings. Coming here is risky for one of my kind, and vice versa."
"So why are you here? Why take the risk?"
Daínn's features smoothed into a mask, his emotions concealed but for the clench of his jaw. "For reasons of my own. But suffice it to say that your daughter's destiny is intertwined with my own."
"After what I saw in that bloody mirror, you're right about that, mate," said Killian, studying him thoughtfully. "Keep your secret then, but I hope you'll come to trust us enough to share it."
The elf looked doubtful, but inclined his head respectfully.
"What did you two see in this mirror?" asked Elsa quietly, addressing both Emma and Killian. "You haven't been very specific. Should we be worried?"
The others started, as though they'd forgotten she was there. Emma shook her head, with a meaningful look down at her daughter. Apparently they didn't want to talk about the details in front of the little girl.
"No reason to worry. How's Arthur doing?" asked Emma, dodging the question about the mirror. She rose, depositing Moriah on her father's lap, and crossed the room to give Elsa a quick hug. "We'll talk about it later," she added with a whisper. "How are you doing?"
Elsa smiled reassuringly, though she was far from good right now. "He's better, I think. The elves' medicine seems to be helping."
The door was suddenly flung open again, without a knock. Sæfara strode in followed by several elves in palace uniforms, hefting swords. Everyone bounded to their feet.
The woman glared so fiercely at Daínn that Elsa expected him to burst into flame where he stood. He was returning her look with a placid expression that seemed designed to provoke her further.
"Arrest the Óhreinn and take him back to the dungeon where he belongs," she snarled. "The rest of you will come with me. It's time."
Everyone was yelling as the guards started for Daínn. Killian and Hic both drew their swords and Merida her bow. Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling more tired than she could ever remember feeling in her life. She couldn't even recall the last time she had slept. Arthur was still horribly injured, and their immediate future looked like it was going to be just as chaotic and blood-soaked as their recent past. Couldn't they ever just rest? Have a single day without being attacked? Irritation flared, morphing quickly into anger. Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, was on the verge of an epic tantrum, and it was not going to be pleasant for the elves.
The familiar warm rush of magic pulsed through her. Before she could reconsider, she harnessed the power and channeled it at the guards. A slab of ice as thick as a man's arm and the height of the room formed in their path, crackling into being so quickly that the men slammed into it at full speed. The lead guard's nose was broken, leaving a smear of crimson on the shimmering blue surface.
Elsa stepped forward, the ice wall advancing with her. Fury pounded in her temples, blocking out everything else. Spikes formed on the face of the wall, thrusting violently toward the elves, who were now scrambling backward in panic. Sæfara stood to the side, watching horrified as Elsa pressed the guards into a rapid retreat. The one with the broken nose was scrabbling crab-like toward the door, blooding pouring down his face. He wasn't fast enough to avoid one of the spikes, which sliced through the coat of mail on his chest. One of his companions grabbed him by the arms and hauled him bodily back through the opening in the nick of time. The ice wall collided with the stone of the castle with a crystalline crash that shook the floor, the spikes shattering into thousands of jagged splinters.
In the ensuing silence, Elsa stalked to Sæfara and stood nose to nose with her. The elvish woman flinched slightly but held her ground, her amber eyes wide with alarm. When Elsa spoke, her voice was calm, but steely.
"You may have saved Arthur's life, and for that I am grateful. But make no mistake, we are not your prisoners. We will not be threatened or ordered around. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-yes," replied the elvish woman, licking her lips nervously. "It was the command of the Queen to take the Óhr- er, the Dvergaran back to the dungeons and bring your group to the throne room."
"I understand you will be traveling with us. If you're going to be part of this group, you're going to have to get along with everyone in it, no matter how you feel."
Sæfara nodded jerkily, sweat beading across her brow. "I understand, Dottír of Nilfheím. Will you all please join me in an audience with the Queen?"
Elsa turned to face her friends. "Shall we?"
Daínn was stunned, his handsome face frozen in shock. The rest were watching her warily. Emma, though, flashed her a subtle thumbs-up, mouthing 'thank you' silently. Elsa allowed the remaining ice to vanish from the doorway, but her anger still seethed under the surface. She had a feeling she might need it again before the day was over.
"Glad you're on our side, Ice Lady!" whispered Merida, as they made their way through the castle.
"I as well," said Daínn, who was eyeing her as though she had sprouted an additional head. "That was…impressive. Thank you. Are you truly a Dottír of Nilfheim?"
"I am NOT from this place that people keep talking about," snapped Elsa, exasperated. "I was born in Arendelle, and I am going to get back there if it's the last thing I do!"
Her words rang out as they entered the throne room. It was empty save for the Queen, the King, Svan, and Vandene. The wizened gatekeeper leaned heavily on her cane, her owlish eyes glinting in the torchlight.
"I trust you found the answers you sought, human," said the Queen acidly to Killian. "None who have dared seek my mirror without permission have lived to see the dawn."
"Strange times, my dear," murmured the King, placing a calming hand on her arm.
The Queen sighed. "Yes, indeed they are. It is time. Sæfara, come here, child."
"Uh, your majesty, about the answers I sought..." interjected Killian, raising his hook. "I saw something important. There's a second guardian for my daughter."
Daínn stepped forward, but did not bow. He stared straight ahead. The Queen hissed. Her son, Svan, took a step forward, hand on his sword.
"I ordered this Óhreinn back to the dungeons, Sæfara!" she snarled.
"I tried, Grandmo-"
"I stopped her, your Majesty," said Elsa, with the smallest curtsy she could give, knowing the Queen would notice the slight.
The Queen goggled at the interruption. "You, girl? You must be the Dottír of Nilf-"
"Enough with this Nilfheím nonsense. I don't care what your issue is with this guy. Killian and Emma have decided to go ahead with this bonding ceremony, and if that's what they want, then that's what we're doing."
The Queen's eyes looked like they might pop from her head. "A son of Dvergar, become bond-sharer with a child of the Singing Blood? Never!"
"Qein set minn Sǫngr Blóð," said Daínn, so quietly Elsa nearly missed it. His words silenced the Queen's rant as though he'd shouted. Svan reacted as though he'd been slapped, pulling his sword and aiming to throw it right at Daínn's heart.
The Queen threw up a hand, ordering her son silently to stop. He held the sword poised to throw, but did not release it. The Queen asked Daínn a brusque question in elvish, to which he responded reluctantly. Her eyebrows rose, as did those of the king beside her. Elsa noticed that Sæfara's jaw had dropped, and she was staring horrified at Daínn, and her grandmother. What was going on here?
"He lies!" roared Svan, hefting the sword again.
"He does not lie," replied the Queen sharply, who was examining Daínn shrewdly. Svan lowered his sword, staring at his mother in shock.
"It is true?!"
"Yes. Perhaps this was meant to be. The weave wills, and we obey. Two bonded, it shall be."
"But Mother!"
"Enough! We begin now. Moriah, please approach, child."
"Wait, how does this work exactly?" asked Emma, holding the little girl's shoulders tightly.
The Queen stood, pulling a slender, curved white rod from her robes. It was finely carved, with scrollwork and runes patterning the half-moon surface. Elsa followed the intricate lines with her eyes, and found her gaze sliding off it at the edges, as though the rod were meant to continue to complete the circle.
"The ceremony is deceptively simple. The receiver of the bond will hold the rod, while the one offering it will provide their blood, here," she said, pointing at a small divot in one end of the rod. There was an identical divot at the other end. "Since there will be two, the other supplicant will provide blood at the opposite."
"Will it hurt?" asked Moriah, chewing her bottom lip nervously.
The Queen's face softened slightly. "No, child, it will not hurt you, I promise."
Emma knelt down, eye to eye with her daughter. "If you don't want to do this, kid, we will walk away."
"It's okay, Mommy, I'm ready," she said, in her little singsong voice.
"Here, Moriah, hold the rod out like this," said the Queen, placing the object in her tiny hands. She gestured to Sæfara and Daínn, who quickly knelt in front of the little girl. Each raised an arm over an end of the rod. Killian put his arm around Emma, both of them looking apprehensive.
The Queen quickly slashed her granddaughter's wrist, then Daínn's. Blood dripped in a steady stream into the divots. The runes and carvings in its surface began to shift and writhe, taking the blood into their patterns.
"Minn sveitungrs fyrstrs, æva óminni."
The voice that spoke was Moriah's, still a child's but with a steeliness that was not her own. Emma and Killian both started forward instantly, but a whoosh of light and wind stopped them in their tracks. The rod glowed once, briefly, and then the bloody patterns in its surface disappeared. They reappeared instantaneously on Moriah, snaking from the backs of her hands and upward beneath the sleeves of her shirt. Daínn and Sæfara fell to the floor, screaming and clutching their heads. The Queen was staring in shock, clearly not expecting what was happening. Killian and Emma dove for their daughter as one, knocking the rod from her hands. It fell to the floor, bouncing with a chime on the flagstones.
"Are you okay, baby?! Talk to me!" Emma was panicking, rolling up her daughter's sleeves. "You said this wouldn't hurt her!"
The Queen ignored Emma. She knelt over her granddaughter, who had stopped shrieking but was still holding her head and moaning incoherently in elvish.
"I'm okay," said Moriah, who was looking sadly at the pair of elves on the floor. Daínn had levered himself into a seated position, but was still holding his head and breathing heavily. "I hurt them. 'Fara?"
"No, no, baby, you didn't. This is not your fault," said Emma, fussing over her daughter.
"The bonding is not normally so…violent, Emma Swan," said Vandene, who had watched all of this dispassionately. She was peering curiously at Moriah.
"Oh my god," choked Emma, having succeeded in rolling back Moriah's sleeves. "Is that permanent?"
The patterns from the rod had transferred to each of Moriah's arms, beginning at the back of her hands and flowing up her arms to the shoulder. They were intricate, following the curves of her body with black linework so fine that they would have made the best craftsmen in Arendelle weep for their beauty.
"Killian, our daughter has tattoos..."
"I see that, love," said Killian, eyeing his wife as though expecting an explosion. "But she's fine, otherwise, right Moppet?"
The little girl nodded, surveying the artwork on her skin with fascination.
"Our five year old daughter is covered in magical elvish tattoos, Killian. She is NOT fine!"
"This is unexpected," said the Queen, who was helping her granddaughter to stand.
"Unexpected! Lady, you don't know who you're dealing with here-"
She was interrupted by Sæfara heaving her breakfast onto the throne room floor.
"Will they be okay?" asked Elsa.
"I'm fine, just need a moment," mumbled the elf, who was still sitting on the floor, cradling his head.
"So much, I wasn't expecting-" gasped Sæfara. She was gazing at Moriah with wonder. "I can feel her- and him?!"
She turned horrified eyes down to Daínn, who scowled up at her. She promptly turned away and heaved again, cursing in elvish. Merida offered her hand down to Daínn, who made an effort to perk up when he saw who it was. He gave her a queasy smile as he stood, kissing her hand in thanks.
"Er, so what now?" asked Hic loudly.
"Now, we feast," replied the King.