Chapter twenty

Holding on

Elsa unwrapped the cloth, then put her hand on the plaster sleeve and pulled. The whole thing slid off Anna's arm. "How is it?" she asked.

Anna bent and straightened her arm, then moved her fingers gingerly. "It's good," she said with some amazement. "I feel no pain."

"The healing process is not fully complete," Elsa said. "Try lifting anything too heavy, and you might suffer drastic consequences. But the bone is set, and it is safe to grant you a full range of motion once more."

Anna marveled at her arm, then the cast. "I've never seen a bone heal so fast," she said. "To think, plaster was the solution."

"I think my potions may have had some effect on it," Elsa said sarcastically.

"Well, yes, of course," Anna conceded. "But healing tonics are too costly for most hospitals to mass-produce, and some shun them outright. This, though…" She grabbed the discarded cast and turned it over in her hands. "This will be of incredible use to the world."

Elsa sighed. "Even when humans do create something worthwhile, it takes centuries for them to discover what it can really be used for," she said. "If you ever get me started on the Parthians, I'll likely bend your ear all day."

"…I see," Anna said, not really knowing what to say in response.

"In any case," Elsa said, "your arm is largely back in place. I will maintain the milk in your diet for now, as calcium is paramount to a full recovery."

"That's fine," Anna said. Her cheeks turned a light pink. "I…I still quite enjoy milk, in truth."

Elsa looked at her. "You do?"

Anna's blush deepened a little as she nodded in assent.

Elsa chuckled. "Why did you not say so?" she asked. "You could drink milk every day, if you so desire. Just tell the thralls whatever you want."

Anna was quite surprised. "But it's a drink for children," she said.

"And who told you that?" Elsa asked. "Some human? Well, you're not under their authority anymore – you needn't hold on to their petty rules. In my house, you may eat or drink whatever you please."

"I see. Thank you," Anna said. From Elsa's tone, though, she knew she was just getting started.

"Do you think I trouble myself with what some humans consider right or wrong? Why should I? Why should anyone? Humans wall themselves in with frivolous rules, brick by brick, thinking they have built themselves a house rather than a prison. We vampires are above such petty boundaries."

"Your kind still has rules," Anna pointed out.

"Only where necessary," Elsa said. "Things to help us survive and avoid conflicts with each other. But you'd never catch me abstaining from something I wanted to do, just because some other vampire told me I couldn't."

Anna frowned.

"Not to say that you are some mindless fool," Elsa said quickly. "The life of an adventurer is about as free as humans get. But you've seen the way I live. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want to – all vampires can. With all this power I've amassed over the years, I am truly free."

For the first time in a month, Anna crossed her arms. She looked at Elsa, unconvinced.

Elsa chuckled. "I suppose I can't lie to you, can I? Certainly not about that, after all you've seen." Just like that, the braggadocio had evaporated from her voice.

"I'm a tad insulted, to tell the truth," Anna said. "I recognized the tremendous restraint you operate under from the first day we met." She looked down at Elsa's hands, resting on the table. "Even if I did not know the true extent of it."

Elsa sighed. "I was wondering when you intended to bring that up."

"I was looking for an opportune moment-" Anna began.

"There won't be one," Elsa interjected. "But I suppose that means this is as good a time as any."

She turned her hands so that her palms were facing up, and spread them apart. It seemed merely talking about the subject was enough to agitate her, as small fountains of ice began to spout from her hands as soon as she stopped suppressing it.

"I possess an inclination towards ice magic," she said, her tone bereft of even a hint of pride. "I have had this affinity since birth, even when I was a…before I became a vampire."

Anna's eyes widened. "That's incredibly rare," she said. "Predilection towards magic is largely determined at birth, of course, but to be empowered at that age, especially with an ability as uncommon as ice, it offers unlimited potential for…" She trailed off when she saw the unamused look on Elsa's face.

"That's a remarkable trait you have," Elsa said in an irritated tone. "No matter the topic, you somehow manage to phrase it in a positive light. Under other circumstances, it's quite endearing."

Anna scratched her head. "I'm sorry, I must be missing something," she said. "It seems to be tied to your emotions, and you've had it since birth. By those two metrics, and your long lifespan, it should be your most powerful magic by now."

"It is," Elsa said, her tone finishing her sentence. The ice still emanating from her hands intensified for a half second, as if to punctuate her thought.

"Oh," Anna said. "But…you exhibit perfect control over all your other magics."

"Because I can, and because I must," Elsa said. "Why do you think I prefer to use fire in most circumstances?"

As if to prove her point, she summoned a flame in the palm of her right hand. With a hiss, the streams of ice disappeared.

"They say fire is dangerous, uncontrollable, even," she said, gazing into her flame. "But fire is easily subdued. All you have to do is starve it…or choke it." She closed her hand, and the fire went out. Almost instantly, ice began to form once more. "But how do you subdue ice, besides fire?"

"Subdue is the wrong word," Anna said. "Ice needs to be controlled, the same way you control a sword so as not to cut your own arm off. With proper training, most sorcerers learn to control it within a few-"

Elsa placed her hand on the table, palm down. It was not especially forceful or loud, but it silenced Anna immediately.

"I know humans are fond of hyperbole," Elsa said, her voice just too quiet to be normal and dangerously level. "They like to exaggerate the amount of effort a task has taken, or how much work they have put into it. So trust that I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I tell you that I have spent centuries trying to control it."

A coat of ice spread from her downturned palm, expanding across the table. The natural contours of the table's wood grain shaped the growing sheet, turning the edges jagged like the teeth of a saw.

"How do you suggest I control this?" she asked. "Take a deep breath and count to ten? Suppression is the only thing I have found to work. Gloves were sufficient for a time, but they proved inadequate as my power grew. Every method I tried to control this power failed in time. And I assure you, those failures came at a price, especially before I had this castle. The things I've suffered through, all because of this curse…"

She cut herself off. With the look of concern on Anna's face, she felt certain she had made her point. "Well, best not to delve too deep into it," she said. "Self-pity will only make it worse."

She had to look away from Anna's face. She still hasn't gotten used to the piteous looks Anna would give her after revealing such deep secrets about herself, or the feelings in the pit of her stomach that would follow. "Elsa…I had no idea," she began.

"Spare me your pity," Elsa said, though her voice lacked the conviction she had intended. "I didn't tell you this to earn your sympathy. It is simply something you should know, and now you do."

Of course, that didn't dissuade her. Anna now stood up and walked around the table, and motioned her to stand as well. Elsa, knowing how futile it was to try and stop her, stood as well.

"Very well," she sighed. She lowered her arms to her sides and allowed herself to be embraced.

It was not that she disliked Anna's hugs – far from it, in fact. The problem was, the more Anna did it, the more emotions she managed to coax forth, as if opening the lid of Pandora's box a crack further each time. It was a bad idea in general and a particularly bad one right now, but the girl was nothing if not completely willing to dive headfirst into danger.

Anna's familiar warmth surrounded her once more. Guardedly, she allowed herself to enjoy the embrace. "Yes, thank you," she said once she felt enough time had passed.

Anna didn't let go.

"That is enough, you may let go now," Elsa said.

Anna still didn't let go.

Elsa looked down at her. "Anna?"

"I've been waiting so long for this," Anna said, eyes closed. "Finally, I can hold you with both arms."

Elsa looked at the cast on the table with some guilt. "I…can understand that, Anna," she said, thinking of the ice still pouring from her hands, "but I really must suggest you let go of me now." With Anna's arm still weak, she didn't dare try to push her away.

Anna seemed not to hear her. "You've got more scars than I could ever have, don't you?" she murmured. "I just didn't see them at first."

"…Don't be silly, girl," Elsa said, pretending to take her words literally. "You know perfectly well I can heal anything that comes my way."

Anna shook her head. "Wounds heal," she whispered. "Scars don't."

Anna began to rub her hand up and down Elsa's back. Elsa reacted with a sharp intake of breath, cutting through the latest words of denial on her tongue.

"You're always so tense," Anna murmured. "Even when you try to relax, I can see it in your body language. Your muscles are taut, like you're ready to fight or flee." She took a deep breath, and Elsa felt her chest rise and fall. "I can't imagine what you've got bottled up in there."

Her voice was soothing, but the words pierced Elsa like a knife. Dozens of memories swirled around in her head, stirred up by Anna's words. Encounters she had convinced herself she had forgotten now swam into focus, becoming sharper by the second. "Anna, please," she began, but it was too late to stop them.

She was tied to a large wooden stake, arms pinned to her side, on the bank of a river. The angry population of the nearby village stood in front of her, shouting obscenities.

She had hoped to make it through the village unnoticed, but a flash of ice from her hands had given her away. Instead of a vampire, though, they took her for a witch. Some sort of religious purge had gone through the countryside recently, and paranoia was still high. Despite her insistence that she wanted no trouble, a vicious mob had formed in short order, their holy artifacts and crucifixes weakening her more than they could've known.

She desperately tried to flee, but she was stopped at the river just outside of town – running water that she could not cross. It was there that the townsfolk tied her down and debated what to do with her. Calls went out to burn her at the stake, but the leader of the mob had a more expedient idea in mind.

Splash

She gasped as she hit the cold water, tossed enthusiastically into the dead center of the river. The stake she was tied to had been soaked and waterlogged beforehand, so she quickly sank to the bottom, facedown. She tried to calm herself down, realizing that she was now in a position to escape. After a few minutes of waiting to see if she reemerged from the water, the townsfolk would get bored of their sport and leave, and she could escape. But her body still remembered its human fears, and panic set in as she felt her lungs filling with water. She spluttered, and the feeling of drowning, though no threat to her whatsoever, overwhelmed her.

Ice poured from her hands, bound behind her back. She clenched her fists until she tore her own skin, but it didn't stop. It rapidly froze the water around her, the ice rising to the surface only to be replaced with more ice. Before she could do anything, she was pinned under six feet of solid ice, with even the water inside her lungs freezing over.

For three days straight, she was trapped in absolute hell. She could barely see, barely move, and any attempt she made to break through the ice and get to freedom was undone by her hands, still pouring out ice to thicken the trap she had placed herself in. Until she eventually exhausted her magic, there was no way out. All she could do was scream, so that's what she did. For three days straight.

Elsa shook her head. "No," she murmured, wriggling in Anna's grasp. "No." She felt tears form at the corner of her eyes, and shut them tight, as if that would do any good.

"Don't try to hold it back," Anna said. Her voice was that of a caregiver, soft and gentle. "All it'll do is tear you up inside. Let it out. Let it all out."

Elsa had no willpower left to do otherwise. She opened her eyes, then her mouth, ready to scream.

Tears poured from her eyes, but no sound came from her mouth. Even trying to scream as hard as she could, she found herself unable to. Though it was wholly unnecessary, she took a deep, shuddering breath and silently wept.

Now that they had started, nothing could stop her tears from falling. Anna clutched her tighter, and Elsa now wrapped her arms around her as well, only just barely having the presence of mind to relax her grip to avoid hurting her. She lowered her head and buried it in Anna's hair, stroking her smooth, coppery locks as they began to dampen.

"It's okay, Anna whispered, her own eyes moist. "I'm here. I've got you."

Elsa didn't say a word in response, able to do nothing but silently weep. Anna, too, fell silent, continuing to stroke Elsa's back.

As time passed, her tears slowed, then stopped altogether. She relaxed her grip on Anna, who took this as a cue to do the same. "Feel better?" Anna asked.

Elsa, her face a complete mess, regarded her oddly. She wasn't angry or sad, just very, very puzzled. "Why would you do this?" she asked weakly. "Healer that you are, does it give you some twisted pleasure to tear open a previously healed wound just to soothe it again?"

"I promise you, that brought me no pleasure," Anna said. Then she gently grabbed Elsa's hand and held it up. "But this does."

It was only then that Elsa realized that her ice had stopped flowing completely.

She stared at her hands with amazement, then at Anna, then back at her hands. Anna smiled, knowing that she saw the correlation perfectly well.

"Normally I'm not the best at emotional counseling," she admitted. "It's hard for me to tell when I'm on the mark, and when I'm just guessing. But sometimes the results are self-evident."

Elsa started to compose herself. "So this is standard procedure, then?" she said. "Forcing confrontation with suppressed memories?"

"There's nothing standard about this," Anna responded. "Normally there's one key memory that needs to be faced, but I can tell there's far more with you. You've got centuries of memories up there."

Elsa sighed. "I'll have to do this a hell of a lot more, then," she said in a deadpan tone.

"You don't have to do anything," Anna replied. "As I recall, you are truly free."

Elsa groaned. "Very well. Let's start again." She wiped away her tears and went back to her memories, deliberately stirring the pot this time.

Anna looked somewhat alarmed. "Again, so soon?" she said worriedly. "It would be best if you wait a few-"

"Right now, Anna!" Elsa snapped. "I've paid the piper already – I may as well hear the full song!"