A Shut Door
Their small convoy had gotten as far as the border with Westhaven the day before. Heinrick's Cynosure had sailed on ahead since Mittergaard had no business to attend to at Corona. Thus they were a flotilla of four ships now: her royal command ship the King Agnar in the middle, the man-o-war Queen Iduna in the lead, an older man-o-war the Aren's Crown trailing behind them, and a sloop to port between them and the shore. A fifth ship, another sloop, would be arriving after the coronation, bringing an escort for Ambrelle. Elsa had no intention of letting her travel alone.
The sloop was for messages and any other quick actions if required. Like escape. Elsa had suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, but high admiral Naismith had his game plans, and that was his job. They weren't sailing into a war zone this time, but the escort was customary for an event of such pomp. Her contingent of the Queen's Own guard was appropriately smaller, so they got to be passengers instead of manning the ship. One of the perks of the position. They were sailing with full regalia - the three main ships decked out with their royal sails: huge renderings of the Arendelle flag - the entire left half of each sail was pale purple and the entire right half was pale green, with the golden crocus itself emblazoned from top to bottom across the center. It was a majestic sight.
Elsa rose with the twilight. It was a new day. She took a deep breath. It was time for a fresh start. She stood before the half-height mirror in the captain's quarters and fashioned herself a burgundy dress with twinkling silver lacework snowflakes running in a line up the outside of both sleeves from her wrists to her shoulders. The same decoration made up the high collar, sash, and floor-length hem. Tiny snowflakes dotted the remainder, more numerous near the lacework. Although she wanted to feel regal today, a full train wasn't very practical on a breezy ship. She gave a nod to the mirror and made her way onto the deck, then to the bow where she stood enjoying the rippling of the sails, the surging sounds of the surf breaking against the bow, the feel of the stiff southbound wind, and the crisp light of dawn over the coastline to her left. The cool air curled around her, billowing her dress and occasionally even unsettling her braid. She breathed it in. It was humid and salty, but refreshing none the less.
Refreshing also, when she felt for it, was the ice. The ice was quiet. That quieted her as well.
Memories of yesterday made their way into her mind. The joy on everyone's faces. That's what she wanted to cling to. Those radiant blue eyes. She had no clear remembrance of what color Rapunzel's eyes had been before. Who had chosen blue? And so luminous! She half wondered if they would shine in the dark. She was so grateful for Rapunzel's excitement. If Rapunzel had been ambivalent or disappointed, it would have been a far less rewarding endeavor.
'Frosty,' Eugene had called her. A smile played across her face. That was precious. She didn't know Eugene, but apparently nicknames were part of their relationship. It was humorous to see that they had adopted one so quickly. Its irony was funny, and the fact that Rapunzel took it without skipping a beat spoke well of their healthy relationship.
I've never had a nickname, she reflected. Other than 'sis.' Did that count? She certainly had titles. She had those in spades. Some were complimentary, and some were not. Snow queen, ice queen, snow witch, ice witch, etcetera. The first of those she tolerated, depending on who said it and how. She had even used it herself occasionally. She was who she was, after all, and there were times when she wanted to underscore the point. Then lately there were the newer titles. Spirit mother. Ice spirit. She still found those unnerving. And the most recent one. Shepherdess. She sighed as a frown overtook her. She could do without that one.
She had always been so cloistered, so mysterious, so untouchable: who would ever had given her a nickname? Did she even want one? Imagining being called 'Frosty' was frankly off-putting. She couldn't imagine tolerating hearing that even from Anna. Would any nickname be endearing? If Heinrick suddenly started calling her something, how would she react? It had better be a good one, because at the moment, she couldn't imagine reacting well.
And yet ...
A nickname was something intimate, and a part of her longed for one.
She recalled Heinrick's forwardness. It's not something she would have initiated or chosen, and she had had to choose to accept it when her innate response was to push away. What did that mean? Did it mean that deep down she really wasn't interested in him? No. That matter had been settled when he came to care for her in Arendelle. Did it mean some part of her wasn't functioning right? She sighed. What did Heinrick think he was doing pursuing someone like her?
There had been rare moments when she had thought beyond the generally unpleasant prospect of marriage to the utterly terrifying prospect of bearing a child. What would it mean? Was she capable? She knew she ran cold. As Heinrick discovered, there were times she could be dangerously cold. What kind of a child could survive, or thrive, within her? Would she be able to manage her powers during the birth process? What would she do if she injured it?
She would drown in grief.
Anna and Kristoff, and Eugene and Rapunzel, seemed to have all this down pat. How nice it would be to not be concerned about -
"Oh ..." Her heart sank. There would be no children for Eugene and Rapunzel.
Which meant there would be no heir to the Corona throne.
She leaned heavily on the deck rail and hung her head as her mind spun. Nation-building in Falster was one thing. Nation-building on her own border was another thing entirely. Maybe this whole ordeal in Falster was a warm-up for skills she would need later.
Except she would be gone at just the moment when those skills would be required. It would be whoever followed her to the Arendelle throne who would have to deal with it. She shook her head at the irony.
She heard a light throat clearing behind her. "Good morning, your majesty," Ambrelle said.
Elsa sprang for the distraction. She turned, and her spirits were immediately lifted to see the jet black hair with occasional auburn tips, the evergreen eyes, and - illuminating their natural striking beauty - a bright smiling face. It was a breath of fresh air to see that bright smiling face on Ambrelle. Elsa couldn't help but return the smile warmly. "Ah! Good morning, Ambrelle. Are you enjoying being back on the water?"
"Yes, very much!" she nodded with enthusiasm.
Ambrelle's natural beauty was made further stark by the contrast to her dull clothing. Elsa reached out and touched one of the lapels of her drab cloak. "Are you in the mood for something more cheerful then?" she asked.
Ambrelle looked down as though noticing it for the first time. "Oh! Ye-yes that would be - that would be nice!" she finally decided.
She gaped in wonderment as the sparkling wave began in response to Elsa's toss of the hand. The result was a sleeveless sparkling evergreen satin dress with white and gold beadwork on the bodice and ankle-length hem. Below it were simple white strap sandals. To this Elsa added a long narrow white ribbon to her hair that trailed down nearly to mid-calf. It immediately began to drift on the wind. "Wow," Ambrelle giggled.
Elsa smiled in satisfaction. "Hmmmm," she said. "Come to think of it, I didn't see you yesterday evening." She raised an eyebrow in teasing accusation. "Were you in the water?"
Ambrelle smiled guiltily. "Yes, your majesty."
"It was so dark! How do you see?"
"We passed a group of crystal jellies -"
"I'm sorry; what?"
"Jellyfish. They're jellyfish that glow in the dark."
Elsa's eyes widened in wonder. Now that Ambrelle mentioned it, she did recall hearing stories from her father and others about glowing sea life.
"They usually like colder water so I was surprised to see them here, but when I did, I just had to go visit." She smiled gleefully. "Then we went for a ride. I gathered them all together and used them kind of like a lantern, I guess you could say."
Elsa nodded. "And no one heard you jump overboard?" She was a little distressed at the crew's inattentiveness.
"Oh, your majesty," she grinned, "I don't splash if I don't want to!"
The two shared a chuckle. It was a whole different world, one she knew nothing about. "I'm glad you had a good time. It's nice to see a smile on your face."
"Thank you, your -"
"You know, Ambrelle," she interrupted, "it would be fine if you just called me 'Elsa.'"
In spite of Elsa's reassuring smile, Ambrelle stiffened and stood speechless. Her care-free face became immediately tense. After a second she started wringing her hands nervously as her eyes darted around as though looking for a safe retreat. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, she swallowed hard, and finally, without making eye contact and barely loud enough to be heard, she stammered, "do - do I have to?"
Elsa was taken aback. To see the joyful face exchanged for this - to have been the cause - she was sorry she had asked. She didn't understand what lay behind it, but she wasn't going to force the girl into something so uncomfortable. "No," she said gently. "No, you don't have to. I just want you to know that you're welcome to."
"Thank you," she said, still without looking up.
"Ambrelle?"
She stood still as a statue.
"Ambrelle, would you look at me, please?"
Slowly, forcibly, she brought her eyes to meet Elsa's.
"I'm sorry for putting you in that position," she said as soothingly as she could. "Can you help me understand why it made you so uncomfortable?"
Her eyes fell again. "I ... I don't know how to explain." She fidgeted. "Proper titles ... it's just ... such a part of my upbringing, first with my family and then with Johan's people, I just - I can't. It's silly, I know - I'm sorry."
Kai and Gerda did the same. Elsa put her hand on Ambrelle's shoulder. "It's fine," she said earnestly. "One's upbringing isn't silly, and I'm sure your family and Johan's people would be honored to see it be such a part of you." She smiled as Ambrelle's eyes slowly reconnected with hers. "When it comes to proper titles though, believe it or not, in some ways I consider you an equal -"
Ambrelle's hands sprang apart in surprise. "Oh, don't say that, your majesty!" she exclaimed almost reprovingly. "You're a queen! The spirit mother! The ice -"
"Shhhhhh," Elsa interrupted again, with a smile that bordered on amusement. "Here on the boat that may all be true. But out there in the water? I'm just a peasant visitor. You are the queen."
Ambrelle's face lit up like a girl who had just received her first puppy. "Thank you," she gasped with a shining face. If it was Anna, Elsa would have had to brace herself for the balance-shattering hug which would follow an expression like that, but Ambrelle's response, after a flustered second, was a deep, graceful, blushing curtsy.
"And the next time that you see something interesting out there in your kingdom, queen Ambrelle? I'd like to come with you."
"Oh, yes, of course, your majesty!" she beamed.
Since Elsa was looking aft, she had seen Heinrick approaching with a saucer and teacup in each hand. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he stood smiling warmly at Ambrelle's display as he patiently waited for her to finish.
He cleared his throat. "Good morning, ladies," he said.
Ambrelle jumped in surprize and blushed at the realization that he had seen her gesture.
"Yes, thank you," said Elsa. Ambrelle was too flustered to respond, so Elsa took both saucers and handed one on to her. She took it sheepishly.
"You're just the two I was looking for," he continued.
Elsa glanced down at her burgundy dress, then at Ambrelle's. "Yes, we do sort of blend in with the dawn sky, don't we?" she quipped. From the corner of her eye she saw the smirk on Ambrelle's face.
Heinrick's response was a self-deprecating laugh. "You complement the dawn, at minimum," he grinned.
Elsa was no stranger to compliments. Most were patronizing. But Heinrick's, she knew, were not, and they warmed her heart. She struggled to contain her response to a smile. "Thank you," she said.
Ambrelle took her first step to leave. "Excuse me," she said.
"No, no, I really meant it when I said I was looking for both of you," Heinrick replied. "You've had some keen insight, Ambrelle. Has Elsa talked to you about her moth?"
Ambrelle looked at Elsa blankly.
"No, I haven't," Elsa replied. "Come on to my quarters and we'll see what you make of it."
The three made their way across the deck to the steep ladder leading to the quarterdeck. Elsa looked back and forth from the ladder to her teacup.
"Let me hold that for you," Heinrick offered.
Elsa handed it off, gathered up her skirt in one hand, and used the other to hold the rail. By the time she had reached the quarterdeck, she saw that Heinrick had slipped the teacup and saucer onto the deck boards at her feet with Ambrelle's alongside it. "Oh, I'm disappointed," she teased. "I was looking forward to watching you climb with them!"
"Only during storms," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.
The easy rapport. It was fun. Elsa knelt and picked them both up. She handed Ambrelle's to her when she reached the top. Upon Heinrick's arrival, the three of them entered the captain's quarters. Elsa walked to the narrow dresser, set down her tea, and retrieved a copy of the paper she had written at Corona. She had left the original with Anna and Kristoff for them to mull over, and maybe for Kristoff to take to the trolls to get their input. She handed the paper to Ambrelle.
All's made new;
What's past is past.
T'is what's committed to the ice, will last.
The powers of many,
Threshed o'er ages past;
Reserved for my shepherdess;
Bestowed at last.
The mandate of the faerie in the ice-weave dress:
More than a queen;
The Shepherdess.
Ten one-hundreds or a hundred tens,
Ere the new begins and the cleansing ends.
They stood watching as she read silently. Her face transitioned through curiosity, shock, and finally concern. She stood thinking quietly for a moment afterward.
"Where did you get this?" she finally asked.
"On my first attempt to free my cousin, I found myself standing on a dirty, frozen, mountainous landscape. Then a moth appeared behind me and began talking. I wrote down what it said."
"Did it say who it was?"
"I asked, and it refused to tell me. It said it was a secret."
"A secret..." She offered the paper back to Elsa, then walked thoughtfully towards the aft windows. She took a sip of her tea, then clinked it back down onto its saucer. "What have you 'committed to the ice?'" she asked.
"Well," Elsa considered, "there was the Eternal Winter. But that didn't last. There are my creations, I suppose - Olaf, and Lotus, and the others. But they won't last either."
"The hunter," Ambrelle said quietly. "You committed him to the ice."
Elsa's mouth opened and then closed. She looked at Heinrick for insight. "Ye-yes, I suppose I did, in a manner of speaking." She brought her hand to her chin as she thought. "But that won't last either, will it? No longer than any of my other creations."
Except he's been pulled into the black star.
"Lotus reminds me that he was then pulled into his own black sphere, so I guess there's some sort of permanence there?"
"A thousand of something," Ambrelle continued. Elsa couldn't tell if she had even been listening. "Days? Years? Perhaps then he'll be freed somehow." She turned from the windows to face them again. "Who told you this?"
"The moth," Elsa repeated. "And it wouldn't say any more. It said it was a secret."
"It called you its shepherdess. Did it say anything else that might hint as to who it was?"
Elsa was getting slightly impatient. "No." Then she remembered. "Wait. The last thing I heard it say as it was drifting away was 'I am that I am.'"
Ambrelle's eyes grew wide with reverent recognition. "Oh!" she breathed. "The only one I've ever heard of saying that is the creator himself!"
Elsa and Heinrick exchanged a skeptical glance. "God?" Elsa said. It came out with a note of muted incredulity. "God was talking to me as a moth on a mountain range of frozen mud?"
Ambrelle responded with an apologetic shrug. "It's at least what it wants you to think. And there have been stranger things, believe me."
Elsa was having a hard time taking this seriously. But she didn't want to embarrass Ambrelle, and it was a possibility, she supposed.
"Wait a minute," said Heinrick. "If we're counting Ken, then we have to count you too, Elsa. You committed yourself to the ice in Falster."
Elsa put her hand to her head as she thought through the implications. "I ... If Lotus hadn't freed me, I don't know how long I would have remained there. It would mean all my creations ..." would not be shackled to her hourglass, just waiting for the sand in it to run out and end their lives. I should get back in there right now! she thought. They're all depending on me, every single day! She looked at Heinrick with a sense of urgency.
"Elsa -" His face was firm but his voice gentle. He took her hands. "You're doing it again. Slow down."
She closed her eyes and scowled. Of course he was right, she knew that, she just hated the position she was in. She gave a slow nod. "There are too many people depending on me." She was surprised to hear her voice crack as she spoke.
"We know," he replied. "And you're surrounded by people who want to help you. You're not facing this alone."
She could clearly sense the agreement of Lotus and even Enceladus. But even those who want to help me are depending on me. Even Anna. Thinking about it, Heinrick was the singular exception she could think of. She met his eyes again. She could see his heart as well. He was the only one who wasn't relying on her to meet some need, or because of some sense of obligation. The only one who chose to be there simply because he wanted to help. If he had leaned in to kiss her at that moment, she would have accepted it. Her hands found their way to his shoulders where she gave a faint tug of invitation. She closed her eyes again as he closed the distance and she felt his arms enfold her. The urgency and fear began to drain away, replaced by a sense of peace. "Thank you," she said quietly. I love you.
The tink of a cup gently touching its saucer brought her eyes open. Ambrelle was standing facing out the aft windows again, practically pressed against them. Poor girl. She would probably have climbed out if she could. Elsa smiled at the thought and separated from Heinrick. "All of my creations depend on me for their survival." She said it aloud in case Ambrelle hadn't pieced it together. "If I was 'committed to the ice,' they would be safe."
Ambrelle, still with her back to them, bowed her head and then nodded. "Right now there are four. How many more would there be?" she asked.
"If they all wanted to be brought back? 'Like the stars,'" she quoted. She sighed. "I have to give them the choice." She looked up at Heinrick. "No one else can do it. I have to know how many ... how many would want to come."
Heinrick gave a supportive nod. "When?"
Elsa glanced back and forth between him and Ambrelle, who had finally turned to face them. She took a breath. "Now."
"How about after breakfast." He handed her back her teacup.
After a modest maritime breakfast, they were back in the captain's quarters seated at the small table built against the wall. Heinrick had handed over his vest which Elsa had refashioned for her purpose. Lotus sat perched on her arm. Ambrelle stood next to the table, apparently not feeling comfortable enough to sit on either side.
We need to be cautious when journeying through the fog, Mother. We don't know with certainty what became of the hunter.
Elsa gave a slight nod without sharing Lotus' concern with the others. Then she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing. It was getting easier and easier - it only took a moment to step away. She had to wonder if this was a good thing or not. As she retreated from the natural world, she contemplated how she was going to go about this. In her original dream in Falster, she had seen Ken standing before the whole crowd at once. But in these journeys using the stone, she had only heard them one whisper at a time. Having talked with her cousin, she now knew that they were able to interact with one another to some degree, but how that worked she didn't know. Even Lotus didn't appear to be able to communicate with her until he was right with her. She decided to try an experiment. With the disc of entrance to the natural world still only an arm's length away, she opened herself to her power and let it radiate into the emptiness.
Lotus? Are you there?
I am. You diverted me from my course. Do you need something?
Elsa smiled inwardly. Just trying something. Let's travel! Elsa didn't panic this time as she was swept away from her one fixed point of reference. She could feel rhythmic thrusts of motion. Is this what it felt like to beat one's wings? The fog wasn't something she could clearly see, but she could sense it swirling ever closer. Take me in and then stop, she instructed Lotus. And then it was around her, through her; faint hushing sounds fluttering past her ears.
Again she gradually let her power radiate into the flow.
Everyone, if you can hear me, I never got a chance to say 'thank you' for bequeathing me your power. With it, I was able to avenge your imprisonment at the hunter's hands.
She waited and listened. There was no response. Was this working? She had no way to know, but she went on.
I have returned to express my gratitude, and also because I have discovered that I can free you. I am called the 'snow queen.' I can free you, for the duration of my life, to walk the earth once again in bodies made of snow and ice. But I cannot promise you that you would be well received. I need to know if this is something that any of you would want.
Again she waited. Then the trickle began.
Freed to what? I was an outcast all my life. How would this be better?
Freed to where? My home is long gone.
Freed to whom? Everyone I know is long gone.
I was hated. Persecuted. My own family was the first to lift their hands against me. There is nothing I wish to return to.
My people are all gone. Murdered by the hunter. Walking the earth again - it would only remind me every day of what I lost.
I remember their faces. I tried to keep it a secret. One slip, and everyone I thought loved me changed.
The trickle became a flood.
There is more kinship here than on earth.
I was the last of my kind. I would only be lonely.
Here, I am free. I don't have to wonder what people think of me. I would not give that up.
My only purpose for returning would be retribution, but the ones who deserve it are all gone.
I spent my life learning not to feel. This is where I belong.
It is enough to know that you have stopped the hunter.
I would miss my powers too much.
I am at peace now. You mock me. Go away.
The same sentiments, again and again. This was not the eager camaraderie she had received last time. It was miserable, touching, and at times bordered on contempt. Then one of them hit the painful nail on the head:
Only queens have a chance of living freely with powers.
Even though it wasn't true, it still hurt. It hurt for two reasons. First, because she had walked her own path of suffering. And second, because she realized that most of them, for one reason or another, would never be able to see beyond their own pain. The picture was clear. This was a shut door. It would have taken her effort to save them, but none of them wanted to be saved. So much for being a shepherdess.
When Elsa's eyes opened, her cheeks were already wet with tears. Heinrick and Ambrelle were both looking at her with trepidation. She dropped her head into her hands and choked back a sob.
She caught her breath and bit her lip, then focused on controlling her breathing. When she looked up, she looked to Ambrelle first. "None of them want to come," she said with dismay. "None of them. Not one. They all had such miserable lives that they don't want to return." She wiped her eyes.
Ambrelle bowed her head. "I ... I can understand that. Is it such a great place where they are now?"
"No, it's empty. It's nothing. It's nowhere. But everything and everyone they knew here is gone. They feel they have nothing to return to, except being ostracized again as my misfit ice creations." She spat those last words out with frustration.
"Didn't any of them enjoy -" Ambrelle stopped abruptly. "Oh." She looked away uncomfortably and began to fidget.
"Enjoy having powers," Elsa completed. She took a deep unsteady breath. "Even if they did, they gave that up too." Her hands balled into fists. Why did she always seem to end up at the center of everything?
Heinrick put his hand on her fist. "They made a choice, Elsa. It's not as if their powers were doing them any good. And they had no way to know that an opportunity like the one you offered would ever come. It was their final act of avengement."
Elsa let out a long cleansing breath. "Well," she said as she pulled the bandana from her head, "at least I know they're not clamoring for my attention."
That conclusion didn't satisfy her though.
A/N: For those interested in such things, I saw Light Chaser Animation's "White Snake" recently. It was quite good. I thought the love story moved too fast to be believable, but even so, it was better than seeing my favorite characters trampled in the Frozen sequel... Stephanie Sheh in particular did great voice work as Blanca, especially in the climactic scene.
