"Breathe deep...breathe deep...get it together...you can do this..."
Elsa clutched tightly onto the steering wheel of her car, feeling just as trapped as one of the inmates in her prison as she pursued the seemingly unreachable goal of calming herself down before she had to force herself on her feet and into the restaurant where Lord Fergus was probably already waiting for her. It couldn't be said that she was excited about the evening. On the contrary, it was bound to be an absolutely unbearable one for her. Still, a free meal was a free meal (not that she was in need of such charity from others, of course), and given how short-tempered Fergus was when people he felt owed him everything refused his hospitality, she wasn't exactly in a position to turn him down.
As she double-checked her gloves (for the third time) to ensure they were encasing her wrists as tightly as they could without breaking her circulation, she paused to repeat the breathing exercises, cold breath trails coming out of her mouth in spite of her best efforts to keep her powers in check. She knew this was the kind of uneasy mood that Fergus was hoping for her to be in, as he clearly wanted to have the upper hand over her. Otherwise he would've allowed for them to have this conversation in her office instead of in a crowded fancy establishment (or maybe it wasn't so fancy, since it was called "The Bear's Head" and from the outside at least looked like an overpriced tavern more than anything).
Realizing she was now out of time when it came to getting her nerves in order, she exited her vehicle, being extra careful not to trip on her heels as she walked across the parking lot (her boots were so much more practical). God, how had she let herself run so late? She imagined that Fergus was pompously checking that stupid pocket watch of his and complaining to himself about how she was never on time. But no matter. She would be able to compose herself. After all, she had a lifetime of practice.
The night lamps positioned on opposite ends of the restaurant's entrance gave off a warm and welcoming glow which was a stark contrast from the ominous search lights which dominated the sky at the institution where Elsa spent the majority of her time. Around her families and young couples were contently chatting with each other, providing the aural aroma of normality which all too often remained completely alien to her. She adjusted her gloves yet again, wondering how many people here would freak out or expect a free display of snow fireworks if they knew about her magic. Sometimes it took all of her will power to not look down on them (she hated herself every time that she did). Envying them, however, usually proved too difficult to resist.
She dug around her purse looking for her driver's license in order to confirm her reservation to the host standing vigilantly just outside the doorway, but her attention was hijacked by a deafening, ear-piercing whistle. It was Fergus, waving at her from a bench and taking up almost its entire capacity with his body mass. There was something so unnatural about the sight of him in an evening suit, as to Elsa's eyes he looked like a hairy mountain wearing a tuxedo.
"Elsa, you look positively ravishing!" He limped over to her, stomping his wooden leg on the sidewalk hard enough to make each of his steps an exclamation point. "Tell me, you didn't go out and get yourself all dolled up on me account, did ya?"
"Don't tell me you had me come all the way over here tonight just so you could flirt." In reality, Elsa had so little time to get ready after the "business" involving her sister that she simply threw on a purple dress which had been hanging in her closet for months. It did the job, but it was nothing worth fussing over.
"Elsa, ya insult me. You know I still consider meself a married man. Tonight is strictly business."
He took Elsa by the shoulder and went inside without giving the host so much as a glance.
"Little perk that comes with me owning the place. Reservations can be damned on my account."
He winked at her. Given the restaurant's decor (which included various hunting trophies on the walls which may or may not have been fake) and bombastic atmosphere (including modern updates of folk songs which were playing way too loudly on what must've been at least twelve different speakers), Elsa should've been able to guess that Fergus had at least some level of financial involvement, though to this day she had no idea exactly how he managed to stay so rich with how eager he usually appeared to spend his money.
To her disappointment, the booth Fergus escorted her to was in the most crowded area, with patrons seated at every table around them and making no effort to try and keep their voices down. Out in public, exactly as he no doubt wanted. Elsa was like a mouse being wined and dined by a cat before he made his pounce.
Trying to keep her stress level from going up again, she hastily picked up a menu to see if there was anything on it not swimming in barbecue sauce, only to have Fergus snatch it away from her before she even had a chance to look at the appetizers.
"Now, now, Elsa, I won't hear of it. This is my dollar, and I'll have nothing but the best for you tonight."
"I appreciate it, but I'm the kind of girl who likes to choose what she..."
"I said, I won't have a word of it!" He put the menu away out of her reach. "You'd just order yerself the cheapest item you could find because you're afraid of looking like you're taking advantage of me. This is my treat."
"As you said, it's your dollar." Fergus was nothing if not "generous" whenever there was something he wanted from others.
"Besides, it's not like you give the lasses in your own line of work much of a say when it comes to their cuisine."
"I'm running a prison, not a diner."
"A fair point. I'm sure your sister appreciates that these days."
"My sister has to adjust to a life behind bars just like any other prisoner."
"Oh, is that it? Is that why you finally decided it was okay to leave her to play with the big girls without you watching over her like a mother hen?"
Elsa could feel her blood cool. Fergus wasn't wasting any time in trying to get under her skin.
"Since you have such an interest in my sister's well-being, it might please you to know she got into some trouble this evening. I had to send her to the hole."
Fergus's overly shaggy mustache twitched.
"Rather peculiar coincidence that she happens to break a rule warranting her being safely locked away all by herself tonight, isn't it? What did she do? Give ya the finger?"
"We found a weapon on her during a shakedown." Elsa wished that the server would come to their table already to provide a convenient interruption. "Though I don't think she made it herself. Probably given to her by another inmate. When we find out who, they'll be appropriately punished as well."
Fergus shifted his elbows, causing the entire booth to wobble.
"I'm not a fan of guessing games, Elsa, but if I were one who enjoyed partaking in such passtimes, I'd wager you don't trust my daughter around your sister."
"It's nothing personal, I promise. I don't trust your daughter around anyone."
"And your sister is just some innocent angel, is she? Last I checked, she shot two people. Terrible, nasty business. If we're keeping score, she's ended more lives than Merida has."
"Yes, well, matricide has its own special ranking among the most horrible crimes someone can commit. Mere murders dominate the headlines every day. But killing your own mother? Well, that's taking the life of the very person you owe your very existence to. Hardly seems polite."
"You talk pretty boldly about gratitude to someone you owe your entire career to."
"Fergus, I have nothing but respect for the position you helped put me in. But it would be foolish of me to give you all the credit for that."
She curled her toes up in her heels. Where was that server?
"Elsa, me lass, I think you're under the impression that I don't like you. That couldn't be further from the truth. I truly admire what a woman of your talents was able to make of herself with them."
"Well, circus freak shows aren't really considered politically correct these days, so not like I could fill out many applications there."
"Didn't fancy doing magic shows for a living?"
"I'm the sort of girl who likes to avoid crowds when possible."
At long last, a waitress arrived at their table. Before Elsa could so much as open her mouth, Fergus was already placing an order for both of them.
"Alex, I'll be having me usual, and she'll be having the same. Caesar salad, French onion soup, and fried oysters. Include the sauces I like with them."
"Right away, Lord Fergus." She spoke as though she had worked for Fergus long enough to have grown a little weary of him, but she gave Elsa a polite if not uncertain smile before leaving with the menus. Shortly thereafter, she returned with a bread bowl, a pitcher of water, and two large glasses of wine.
"I always have a glass with dinner." Fergus pushed one of them over to Elsa's side of the table. "Drink. I hear it's good for things like prolonging long life."
"You always struck me as more of an ale guy. And please, I never drink socially. Far safer if I do that at home in case I make a drunken army of snow creatures by mistake when I'm hiccuping."
She was trying to ease the situation by making a joke, but she had no interest in Fergus attempting to lower her guard tonight.
"My dollar, lass. If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn't do so in me own restaurant. That would lead to terrible word-of-mouth."
He burst out laughing at his own remark, giving the table a heavy pound with his fist, but Elsa knew their was no point in arguing the matter. Fergus raised his glass, apparently deciding that now was the perfect time for a toast.
"To our violent relatives. May they be where they belong, and may we be where we belong."
Elsa took a sip without joining in on the "toast", and damn, the wine did taste really good. So good that she was tempted to ask for another serving, but no. She must not let Fergus loosen her up too much.
"If you think that's good, you should try the bread." Fergus downed his own glass in one irresponsibly long gulp. "Melts the very moment it touches yer tongue."
"Then it must be better than what the girls at Frozen Heart are served. We instruct the bakery not to send any loafs over until they're a week past their expiration date. Not my idea, but it helps save the prison money."
"I didn't take you for the 'cruel and unusual' punishment sort, lass. Tell me, does yer sister approve of being able to enjoy such fine dining on a daily basis?"
"As I said, not my idea. And her opinion about it is hardly my concern."
To Elsa's utter confusion, Fergus burst into a guffaw which caused the entire mass of land which was his body to have a small earthquake.
"Did I say something funny?"
"It's that thing you do, me lass. Yer not nearly as good at it as ye think you are."
"I'm sorry, I'm confused."
"Let me put it to you this way." Fergus stuck his fork into his salad plate only seconds after the serve silently placed it before him. "You can call it me ego talking all you like, but I'm good at reading people. It's a gift, I suppose. It's like flipping through a murder mystery at a thrist store and skipping straight to the ending. I know the secrets of others long before they know them themselves."
"Don't try and tell me you have your own magic." Elsa delicately sipped on her soup, being cautious not to spill it on herself.
"No, I ain't got magic. Not like you do. It's more like an instinct. And that instinct tells me that, despite how badly or even desperately you try to hide it, you're actually quite soft."
"I'm sure the women in stripes would disagree with that assessment." There was a confidence in Fergus's tone which made her stomach feel uneasy, as she sensed he was going somewhere very specific with this.
"They can disagree all they like. Yer sister, for instance, in her rather shallow, selfish state of mind, I bet she thinks you hate her more than any of the other prisoners, completely oblivious to the special treatment you've been giving her."
"You overestimate my generosity."
"Is that so?" He used a meat knife to cut the romaine lettuce of his salad into smaller leafs. "Okay, why don't we go further back? Long before dear, beloved Anna ended up with a pet ball & chain to keep her company, I've heard stories that she had a previous spat of trouble with the boys in blue. Except that she didn't...because you were the one who went to jail instead of her."
Elsa could feel frost involuntarily expelling itself from her fingers.
"I was young and stupid."
"No, yer sister was the one who was young and stupid." He was now eating the salad with his knife and disregarding his other silverware entirely. "Seems she thought it would be a jolly good idea to go and steal a gold watch, and at the very last minute, mere moments before the police arrived, you suddenly decided to show up and take it from her. I would imagine she took this as you being a greedy bitch, but I think we both know better."
"I'm sorry, I'm confused. Where did you even hear any of this?"
"I have me sources." Fergus abandoned the salad and moved on to his soup. "Sources who tell me Anna's still a tad bitter about it. Must be horrible for you, really, making that kind of sacrifice to prevent your sister from doing a few weeks in the hoosegow, only for her to get herself in a far worse situation down the road."
Elsa was sure she'd end up freezing her soup if he kept this up for much longer.
"Can we get to the part where you tell me what you want, Fergus?"
"I always thought patience was supposed to be a woman's virtue. But who am I to get in the way if you're that eager?" He grunted as bent over to pull a folder out of a briefcase seated next to his knees. "As I'm sure you're aware, Elsa, you've developed quite a reputation for yourself. You've managed to maintain great control over the incarcerated population of Frozen Heart, and everyone on the board is thrilled about that, naturally."
"Uh-huh. This is when you say 'having said that', am I correct?"
Fergus grimaced.
"Having said that, some are concerned that your sister now being, shall we say, under your TLC, well, they're concerned it's creating too much stress for you."
Elsa tapped her fingers on the table.
"Is this a subtle way of telling me I'm in danger of losing my job?"
"Elsa, no, you misunderstand me." He grabbed some documents from the folder and scattered them around, not seeming to care if they got on his salad plate or not. "On the contrary, we're talking about something that would benefit you greatly. See, Frozen Heart, it's already too crowded, as I'm sure you know. It's high time we opened a new correctional facility in this kingdom. One which I believe would be even better for your skill set, so to speak."
He handed her a sheet of paper. Suspicious before taking it, she glanced over what seemed to be construction plans for another prison. Nothing out of the ordinary, at first glance, until she read details like "need for enchanted fencing required" and "containment cells in order to restrain inmates with gifts." There were other peculiar things, including cell blocks which were arranged by "categories of skill" and "level of ability to control power."
Elsa swallowed. Hard. What Fergus was pitching to her was a prison designed specifically for people with magic. And he wanted her to be in charge of it.