Author's Acknowledgement: I should like to thank both Ash and J very much for their contributions to and encouragements of this story. But most of all, I should like to thank Jennifer (SGT Nerd Y. Fangirl on Discord) for her patience, direction, and conversation. Without you, Jennifer, this story would not be; and I am confident that so much that is good in it comes from your inspiration, direction, and eye-rolling. May the Frozen be with you.
Author's Notes: This story has a ways to go, but is intended to contain three parts. New chapters will come every month (at a minimum). The story takes a bit of time to get going, with the first major plot point occurring at the end of Part I — Chapter 3.
Elsa smiles to herself. The air is warm, with a light breeze, and the late afternoon light slants golden through the trees. There is no magic here but hers; but the forest is so peaceful it seems to possess a magic all on its own. The birds chirp lazily from their perches, watching her as she passes by. She knows the path so well, has walked it so many times in years past, that she knows every stone, every root, every turn. Indeed, this forest path winding away from Arendelle has become a touchstone in her life.
"Mama always loved you," Elsa says as she walks. "Right from the beginning when you came to the castle, she doted on you like you were a favoured son."
"There are many things I understand. I know what happened to my mother and my father. I know where my magic comes from. I know how to be a good sister," she says.
She turns on the path, almost as if she were stepping under the arm of an invisible dance partner. Her turn is precise, regal, but with an effortlessness that belied years of practice. Her gown and cape flares out as she does so. "I know how to be happy now, Mama," she says. The sun was lower now, splashing the trees with its long orange glow, the shadows growing.
"But other things elude me," she says, as she stops to touch a branch and look into the distance. "Once in my life, I was loved by choice. I would like to know why. The most cherished relationships—with my mother, my father, my sister, my creations—are all prefigured. They began before I was even aware of them. But to be loved as an act of will, that is different."
She looks down, and smiles at a ptarmigan who was edging closer. She bends down and flicks her pale wrist; a small mound of ice crystals form. The ptarmigan froze, but then took courage and hopped forward, licking the ice at the edge.
"I did not ask for it. You gave of yourself. But the greatest prize for you was not me, but my happiness. You were my friend. You fought for me. You were a fool," she says, standing up and folding her hands in front of her, still looking at the bird. "You loved me."
"And I think I should like to understand why, if only for a moment. Why did you love a girl who shut herself away from the world? Why did you love a woman who was not whole? Why did you choose to love me?"