Elsa rushes back to Arendelle after a letter arrives saying Anna has taken gravely ill.
Part of October Story Haul! Writing October/Halloween/Fall inspired stories - and while this one was *technically* written just before October, it still fits the theme. Received an ask prompt on Tumblr with the line, "Don't touch him/her".
"Don't touch her," the letter warned Elsa, delivered by Gale in a trip across the ice. Nokk had whinnied at the scent of its companion, but slowed to a halt when Elsa's trembling began to shake her mount as well.
"Don't touch her," the staff told Elsa as she hurried to her sister's room, twin capes flying behind her, lending size to a courage she didn't feel.
"Don't touch her," Kristoff reminded her one last time, mumbling through tired hands. Sven brayed at his back and nudged his big nose into the side of Kristoff's head - a sad sound and an even sadder sight.
Elsa entered and heard the door click shut behind her.
Despite the high noon sun, Anna's chambers were dark. Every curtain had been drawn and extra fabric had been hung over windows to block any remaining scraps of light.
"Elsa? Is that you?"
"Olaf?" Elsa whispered back into the darkness. The distinct squeak of Olaf's footsteps approached, the white snow of his body giving him an almost phantom inner light. Small stick arms wrapped around Elsa's waist and his head fell against her stomach.
"She's not well," Olaf said softly. "We thought she was getting better, but then this morning..." He trailed off. Elsa put a soothing hand on his head, fighting the shiver of fear growing in her stomach.
"Is she sleeping?"
Olaf nodded, taking Elsa by the hand and leading her to the side of Anna's bed. Elsa's eyes began to adjust, and she saw Olaf sit atop a small stool that had been placed near the headboard. He took to it with such a strong sense of formality that Elsa was struck with the image of a vigil, waiting for a dawn to shrink back the darkness.
She shook the thought from her mind, casting her gaze over the bed to distract herself.
The sheets were a mess, lumpy and thrashed about. Nearly half the bed was bare, covers bundled to one side to envelope a shape that could only be her sister. There wasn't a single scrap of visible clothing, much less skin, but the tension around Elsa's middle eased slightly when she saw that the middle of the pile was moving regularly up and down.
"How long has she been like this?" Elsa asked, picking her way carefully to the other side of the bed where Anna's head lay.
"A few days." Olaf swallowed at Elsa's stricken expression. "She didn't want to bother you…"
Elsa opened her mouth to respond, but shut it just as quickly. It had only been a handful of years ago that she had pushed herself past the point of mere fever for Anna, and though it pained her to be on the other end now, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry.
Just... sad.
"Kristoff is the one who said we had to tell you," Olaf continued. "I think seeing her get worse when she seemed to be recovering was the last straw."
"What happened?"
"Three days ago, after you left the reception for the visiting royalty, Anna said she suddenly felt tired and went to bed. When Kristoff went to join her later, she claimed she couldn't sleep because the room was too hot. He put out the fire, but even then she was sweating. The next morning she seemed… lost." Olaf shuddered, the action completely foreign to Elsa, who's heart was starting to feel constricted in her chest. "Gerda would call her name and it would take two or three times for her to pay attention. During meals she would push food around on her plate or just stare at it, eyes dull. Anything she did eat, she couldn't keep down, and by the next evening Kristoff decided she should just rest in her room. And now she hasn't come out for a full day."
"How awful." Elsa reached out for the blankets, needing to check for herself.
"Don't touch her."
"I won't," Elsa said. Blue light bloomed around her fingers, coating her hand in a thin and flexible layer of ice. She flicked her encased palm, a crystalline 'ting' sounding out. "But... why?"
"We don't know what she has, or how she got sick. I've been the only one able to care for her recently."
Affection lightened the cage around Elsa's heart just a little. "Thank you, Olaf." He smiled thinly in return.
Carefully, Elsa eased back the covers.
The first thing she found was Anna's nightgown, soft and lightly patterned as was common in the summer months. Olaf's words rang true however, for the material was stuck like a second skin to Anna's body, drenched in sweat. Another layer peeled away revealed Anna's hair, darker in hue from the dampness that plastered it to her skin. Her freckles stood out like the tappings of charcoal dust on drawing paper. Finally, Anna's face, pinched with the effort of keeping herself covered. Her frown deepened at the disturbance of her slumber and she attempted to turn away from the scant light that reached into the room, muttering.
"–can't… leave." Elsa glanced up at Olaf but looked back when Anna groaned and continued. "Have to… stay…"
Olaf sighed heavily. "She's been talking in her sleep. At first it was her normal mumbling, but it changed." Elsa felt pierced by his gaze. "Ahtohallan called to you too, didn't it?"
"You think she hears Ahtohallan?" Elsa watched Anna grimace and turn away from her.
"I don't know," Olaf confessed. "Looking back, you only ever seemed distracted, which Anna did, but now… It was never like this for you, right?"
"I'll admit it disturbed me at first, and when I fought it, the voice seemed to grow louder." Elsa pursed her lips. "But no. In the end it was a beckoning voice, though not an unfriendly one. The uncertainty made me sick with worry, but never actually ill."
Anna made another pained sound and this time Elsa couldn't help herself. She reached out and touched the tips of her frost covered fingers to the back of Anna's exposed neck. Goosebumps broke out immediately, shivering through Anna in waves. But instead of leaping away from her touch, Anna pressed back until Elsa was running her hand through damp tresses. Anna's muttering soothed to the odd murmur, her chest rising and falling evenly once more.
"Please be careful, Elsa," Olaf jumped down from his perch and joined her.
"I will, I promise."
At their voices, Anna turned back, her clenched eyes relaxing. Her voice was thick and hoarse, and it took several tries for her just to whisper the word, "Water…"
"I'll get it!" Olaf bounded up and raced for the door, his excitement drawing forth a smile from Elsa, and even a weak one from Anna. He was gone in a flash, but even with the door swinging open and shut in hardly more than a second, Anna flinched at the extra light.
"I'm sorry, did we wake you?" Elsa cupped Anna's cheek, renewing the ice around her hand when Anna all but nuzzled into her touch.
"No I–," Anna cleared her throat, trying again with a little less rasp. "I don't think I was fully asleep."
"We heard you talking, you were dreaming."
"Yes… a dream." Anna paused. She seemed to gather her strength, then with great effort, she opened her eyes. "But you're not, are you?"
Anna's eyes had always been the loveliest of greens under low light: positively lush under oil lamps, campfires, sunset, and candlelight. Even Elsa's own magic sparked her eyes with the verdant life of flowers and spring.
But the sickness, short in it's stay, had already taken its toll. The only color reflected in Anna's eyes now was the sludge brown mud at the bottom of a frozen lake.
"Oh, Anna," Elsa brushed her thumb across her sister's cheek. "What's happened to you?"
Anna didn't hear.
"No, you're not a dream," she seemed to say to herself. "Of course you and your magic would be the only things that keep the Count away."
"The… the Count?" Elsa frowned. "The one whose visit we celebrated just a handful of days ago? I'd thought he left that very same night."
Anna eyed her quizzically, though it's power was diminished by her fatigue. "Well naturally, he had a long return trip to make. But he left me a gift, so I could remember his time here." Her face scrunched up again, "At first I wasn't sure about it, but…"
Then Anna beamed, a sight that would have made Elsa's heart soar as it caught the sunlight, bright as any star brought to Earth could be.
Except this time it sank, like a seal yanked beneath the waves by a shark.
"Now it feels like he's always around," Anna grinned before closing her eyes once more. She sighed, "Though he's a bit overbearing at times, calling at all hours of the day and night."
Elsa didn't know if it was rage or terror that made its home behind her ribs, but one of them broke her heart with the realization that something had changed Anna's smile.
No. Someone.
"W-what kind of gift, Anna?"
"The kind benefiting a gentleman of course." Anna yawned and seemed to settle happily as the memory revisited her. Elsa felt her heart travel further - down down into the icy depths. "A kiss."
The light from Elsa's magic glinted off Anna's teeth in a way it never had before. Twin flashes of pointed bone, longer and sharper than any human's.
Elsa had always thought they were stories, a fairytale, one more thing to be scared of at night. But fate had decided on more than one occasion to grant magic into her and Anna's lives, so terrible as it may be, why not this particular myth as well? How much more odd would it be than a living water horse, sentient wind and rock, and a fire spitting amphibian?
Why not… a vampire?
Anna hooked her hand into Elsa's, ignoring her sister's reflexive tug away. "Who knew a kiss could be so chilling? But it was hot that night, and you were gone, so it was a decent substitute."
Elsa took a moment to center herself. The reality of the situation was bearing down on her like cavalry hooves, but she needed to be certain. "Where did he kiss you?"
It was a small comfort to hear her sister reply with humor. "Well it certainly wasn't the lips, Elsa. He knows the rules of etiquette the same as us. No, it was the back of the hand."
Elsa immediately inspected Anna's hand, then the other. But there was nothing.
Anna entwined their fingers, pressing her palm against Elsa's icy one. "So many questions about the Count," she said slyly, more playfulness dripping into her voice to chase the sick away. "You're not jealous, are you, Elsa?"
Elsa gawked at her. "I'm not jealous, Anna!" She turned her head away, "I thought he was a pleasant enough man, though a little conceited. Didn't you feel the way he made himself superior to those around him?"
Anna shook her head. "He certainly came off that way in public, but he really was very polite at the end of the night. He even showed me the special goodbye he gives his visitors in his home country."
Elsa nearly scoffed, moment forgotten. "Is this that kiss you keep mentioning? That's hardly anything new Anna, you are queen after all."
"You are jealous, you are!" Anna's excitement was cut short by an upturning of brows and a small whimper of pain. She immediately pressed their joined hands to her forehead. "Sorry," she mumbled, "it's so hot in here."
Any reply Elsa might have had would forever be stuck in the back of her throat. She'd found what she had been looking for… but in an unexpected place.
When Anna had pulled her hand towards her, Elsa saw the marks under Anna's wrist.
Two small dots.
"Mmmm, Elsa," Anna murmured, "you're so cold. Just like me. The rest of the world is so hot and bright, but you're perfect." She pressed Elsa's knuckles along the bridge of her nose. "And don't worry, I can share the Count's secret with you too - after all, you're also warm, warm where it matters. On the inside. Your heart," Anna smiled and Elsa felt the little hum that came from her chest. "I can smell it."
Elsa barely heard a word, her thoughts swirling like dense fog. She'd never get the chance to respond either, as Olaf chose this moment to make his reappearance, the sound of the latch raising Elsa's head, away from her sister. Her mind was still turning over Anna's words the way a mouse tests the new pressure plate under an old crumb of cheese. She didn't notice how her hand shifted to rest against Anna's lips, how her control slipped, exposing pale, bare skin.
No, the last nail in the coffin was that, when Anna had spoken, her eyes had opened again.
Opened to a deep, dizzying red.
Red like the finest wines of Arendelle castle.
Red like the kind exposed by bullets and blades.
Red like blood.
Olaf called Elsa's name in oblivious greeting as Anna's teeth sunk into her wrist. The bite was kind, the fangs almost soft.
And the pain?
Intoxicating.