AN: Sorry this is almost a week late. My scrubs needed to be cuddled and my cats dry cleaned.
Wait, what?
Oh no.
Anna's steps were lighter than they had been since she arrived at Hasvik. Elsa was awake and well enough to request pen and paper, which Anna had mixed feelings about. She was happy that her sister was feeling well enough to try to work, though she couldn't imagine what work the woman had found. It worried her that Elsa had only been awake for a few days and was already trying to work, when she should be focused on resting and saving her energy for what was to come.
No one did stubborn and bullheaded quite like her sister.
Anna had taken to eating her meals in the private dining area that had been set up across from Elsa's and her rooms. She wasn't entirely comfortable leaving her sister alone while they were in Hasvik, even for the duration of a meal, and especially after the conversation over breakfast.
Anna had speared a piece of fruit with her fork, idly listening to Captain Jogeir and Admiral Naismith talk. Most of their discussion was technical, troop movements and the like, things she only needed to have a vague knowledge of and only so she could relay information to Elsa if she asked for it.
Naismith took a large bite of his breakfast, swallowing before continuing. "We'll leave the Dagny here along with extra hands to keep peace," he told the Guard Captain, "but the majority Sirma are being returned to their homes as we speak."
"You're not worried about them causing problems?" Jogeir asked, tucking into his own breakfast. It seemed that Anna wasn't the only one with a reemerging appetite.
The Admiral frowned, shaking his head. "I don't believe they will be an issue. I talked to Alarik a few days ago, who said that once the Sirma learned the Queen was born with her magic rather than having stolen it from a spirit, they were surprisingly eager to help. The rumor going around that she's responsible for the spirits being freed from the Vindarr is only strengthening that eagerness."
"Which is a concern all on its own."
Anna perked up and frowned at the Captain. "What do you mean?"
Jogeir set his fork against his plate and turned to Anna. "The Sirma don't appear to worship the spirits, but instead hold them in high regard with reverence akin to a religious deity. Those spirits were captured, and Queen Elsa freed them using magic that closely resembles their own. I have heard there is a rumor going around that the Queen is a spirit herself, in human form."
Anna blinked numbly, then jutted her chin out. "A spirit? Elsa?" She shook her head with a soft chuff of laughter. Her instinct was to tease her sister about the misguided rumor—maybe when she took Elsa her breakfast. "It's amusing," she said to Jogeir, "but why is that a concern?"
The man rubbed a hand across his mouth, taking a moment before answering. "Faith, or in this case reverence, in something can be very strong. In the right hands, with the right ideals, such reverence can motivate people to push through things they could never imagine. Misguided or misplaced, it can become a devastatingly dangerous tool." He allowed the information to settle before continuing. "You've heard about the inquisitions in Pruila? Verena, in particular? Those are the result of misguided and misplaced faith."
"A master of the understated," Naismith quipped.
"Wait." Anna held up a hand, setting her own fork aside. "What Verena did—is doing—is awful, but they claim that the people they are. . . hurting, are evil, whereas the Sirma see Elsa as something good."
"They do." The Guard Captain nodded. "But I don't know the Sirma or the Vindarr, and they have never encountered anyone like the Queen before. That makes them unpredictable, and such a reverence makes them potentially dangerous. So, the farther from the Queen they are, the better."
Anna knew her sister would find the entire idea absurd, but was quick to agree with Jogeir. The farther Elsa was from anything even vaguely reminiscent of danger, the better they would all feel. She took comfort in the knowledge that there was a guard posted outside Elsa's door at all times, and several more in the hallway. But even with those layers of protection, Anna would prefer to stick close to her sister, even though she knew Elsa needed time by herself and at the moment she wasn't doing much more than sleeping.
For the first time in months, she felt like everything was going to be okay. It had been almost a week since Elsa took the last dose of the blood clover, and so far, her symptoms had been rather mild compared to what Malthe had described. Anna was hopeful that maybe Elsa might be spared the harsher symptoms, but tried to temper that hope, reminding herself that they still had a long way to go. And there was still plenty of time for everything to go pear-shaped.
Malthe had explained that everyone went through withdrawal differently, and what Elsa experienced the first time may not happen this time. The extreme differences in how long she'd been taking it, how much she's taken, if they altered the dose at all, and most importantly, her overall health. The first time she stopped taking it, she'd been under a lot of stress but otherwise healthy. Elsa was still under that stress and then some, and far from the picture of health she had been only weeks ago. All of it would alter what she could experience in the upcoming days and weeks.
Anna looked down at the bowl of food in her hand and wrinkled her nose. She had no idea what it was, only that Malthe had called it nutrient dense, and said that it would be easier on Elsa's stomach. Anna thought it looked like greyish slush, and she felt guilty at the relief she felt over knowing she didn't have to eat the same thing.
She had attempted to barter with the old physician for something Elsa might actually consider eating, but the man stood firm, offering only some nettle tea with honey as a way of compromise. Of course, it was easy for him to say no; he wasn't the one who would have to convince Elsa to eat the indefinable grey sludge. She wouldn't go against Malthe, knowing he wouldn't be forcing this torture on Elsa if he didn't have an excellent reason for it, and she needed her sister to be healthy and whole. But that didn't make her task any easier.
Anna took a deep breath, steadying herself for any argument, either about the food or whatever work Elsa had drummed up. But when she opened the door to Elsa's room, her sister wasn't working, or even attempting to.
There was a tray on the bed with her requested pen and paper, but Elsa's left hand was cupped against her chest, her cheeks red against her pale face. She wasn't crying, but looked to be close to it.
"Elsa, what's wrong?"
Elsa jumped, her head snapping up toward Anna. She immediately wrapped her arm around herself, tucking her left hand out of sight. "Nothing, I'm fine."
"Right, clearly." She set the bowl and cup on the nightstand. "Because you don't look like you're about to cry at all."
Elsa glared, which was far less intimidating with watery eyes, her face more bruised than not, the rest of her covered in so many bandages she could be a mummy, and resting against so many pillows Anna wondered how there were any left in the Keep.
Anna dropped her gaze to the tray in front of her sister and the paper sitting on it. There was some writing, but it was splotched with ink and so messy it was illegible. A far cry from the normally graceful, elegant letters she was used to seeing from her sister. Anna sat on the edge of the bed and waited silently.
Elsa kept her gaze fixed on the tray, a scowl on her face like she was trying to make the offending items apologize for some committed crimes. After a long silence, Elsa finally whispered, "I can't write."
The words were so quiet, Anna almost missed them. She looked again at the smudged writing and back to her sister. "What do you mean? You've never had a problem writing with your left hand before, it's not as nice but. . ."
Elsa chewed on her lower lip and wrapped her arm tighter around herself, a wince crossing her face.
Anna leaned forward and placed her hand against her sister's upper arm. "Elsa?"
Slowly, Elsa unwrapped her arm from around her waist, her hand shaking with harsh tremors as she held it out in front of her.
Anna suddenly understood what had her sister so upset. She reached out and folded her hands around Elsa's trembling one, bringing it down to rest on her lap. "You know you're supposed to be resting right now, not working."
"I need to get things in order," Elsa replied. "I need to be prepared for what may happen when we get home."
Anna nodded. "Okay," she said, knowing it was far easier to work with her sister rather than against her. "Then how about this? You eat this . . . wonderful breakfast that Malthe had specially made for you, and afterwards I'll help you with whatever you need to get done."
Elsa nodded mutely and Anna stood, clearing the tray and replacing the items with a warm mug and small bowl.
Elsa pressed her lips into a tight, thin line, her nose wrinkling. "That stuff tastes disgusting."
"Come on, it can't be that bad." Anna held out a spoon to her sister. "It's nutrient dense."
"You don't even know what that means."
"Neither do you."
Elsa twisted her lips but didn't comment, instead shifting her gaze to the mug next to the bowl. She narrowed her eyes.
"It's nettle leaf tea with honey." When her sister hesitated, Anna felt a painful twist in her chest. "Elsa, I promise that's all it is. No one is going to give you anything without your permission."
Elsa looked at her with wide eyes, then dropped her gaze with a sigh, rubbing her shaky fingers against her forehead. "I know, I'm sorry. I . . ."
"Just spent the last month being drugged and manipulated against your will?" Anna put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Elsa, you've been through a lot. It's okay to feel like you need to protect yourself."
Her sister didn't answer, but she didn't need to. Anna knew she was listening, that the words had sunk in. Whether they stayed in her sister's stubborn head was another matter. Even if she forgot, Anna was going to make sure she was right next to Elsa to remind her.
Elsa finally took a drink of the tea, sipping slowly. She put the cup aside and eyed the bowl. "That stuff is still disgusting."
"Really, Elsa. It can't be that bad."
Elsa lifted her eyebrows and pushed the bowl toward Anna.
Anna eyed the mystery sludge, swallowing thickly. "I would, but I just had a big breakfast?"
"Uh-huh."
She offered the spoon to Elsa once more. "Eat it. It's good for you."
Her sister frowned but took the spoon with still shaking fingers. "You sound like mother."
Anna beamed. "Good. Maybe for once you'll listen?" She waited as Elsa reluctantly dug her spoon into the grey mush before picking up the discarded paper and scrutinizing the smudged ink. "What were you working on, anyway?"
Elsa leaned back against the pillows stacked behind her, releasing a slow breath. She was trying to relax, but the growing ache in her sides, her broken arm, and the various bruises painted across her skin had moved past uncomfortable and was rapidly approaching intolerable. She expected Malthe would be along shortly with another dose of painkillers. She hated them, hated how they made her feel fuzzy and detached, and hated that without them the pain from her injuries would be torturous. She hated the painkillers almost as much as she hated disappointing her sister, both of which seemed an inevitability for the moment.
To say Anna wasn't taking things well was an understatement, but it was also exactly what Elsa had expected from her headstrong younger sister. Anna didn't know the things Elsa did, didn't see the world the same way, so she didn't understand that this was what needed to be done, the things they would have to plan for.
Elsa watched as her sister paced from one side of the room to the other, then back again. "Anna."
The girl stopped in her tracks and turned toward her. "Elsa, I—I don't even know what to say." Anna spread her hands out at her sides. "This is absurd."
Elsa wished she could sit higher in bed instead of slouching against the pillows, but her bruised and batter muscles would not take kindly to any actual movement. "Anna," she tried again, her voice soft, though still hoarse.
"Elsa," Anna said firmly. "I know the council can be a bit . . . them. And what's his face isn't really fond of your magic, but you are the Queen. They can't just make you give up the throne. It's your birthright. They can't take that from you."
"Anna, it's not as simple as that." Elsa paused to draw in a steadying breath. "No, they can't force me to abdicate. But some of them were already afraid of my magic and thought I wouldn't be a suitable Queen. This . . . everything that has happened is not only going to reenforce those beliefs, but give weight to them." A flare of pain across her belly made her stop again, and she wrapped her good arm around her middle, blowing out a shallow breath through clenched teeth.
"Elsa." Anna crossed the short distance back to her side, looking upset for a whole different reason.
Elsa shook her head, not wanting her sister's worry, but her understanding. "Fear is just as strong a motivator as any other emotion, and just as dangerous. If they think that fear could hurt or take away something important to them, it can make them act out in desperation. Trust me, I know. I've had thirteen years of first-hand experience." She let the words sink in before she continued. "You saw what fear drove the Sirma to do. The council and I may not always see eye to eye on matters, but they want what is best for Arendelle."
"Which is you." Anna sat on the edge of the bed. "You are what is best for Arendelle."
Elsa smiled wanly. "My record thus far would prove otherwise."
"Elsa, you made a few mistakes. One's anyone could have made."
"But anyone didn't. I did." She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked away, blinking as the world dipped for a moment. She waited for it to right itself before continuing. "It doesn't matter right now—it's all just speculation. But I want you to be prepared for what may happen after we return home. Just in case."
"Elsa—"
"Anna, please." Elsa tried to reach out to grab her sister's hand when she felt something shift along her right side and pain shot through her side, wrapping around her midsection and chest, squeezing out all the air. She gasped, eyes going wide, and pressed her hand against her side, drawing her knees up in a vain attempt to curl around the pain. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her head back against the pillows.
"I'm getting Malthe."
She felt the bed shift as Anna jumped up and the door open. She didn't bother to try to stop her sister, not that she could have if she wanted to. Elsa blew out harsh breaths between her teeth, the pain making the few seconds stretch into eternity before she finally heard the door open again, and the deep timbre of a familiar voice nearby. The voice was followed by a warm hand at the back of her head, tilting her head up and pressing a warm cup to her lips. She knew what it was and hated that she was familiar with the taste, hated the relief she felt even before it had a chance to numb the pain.
It took only a few minutes for the familiar warm tingling to seep through her body, soothing the various pains until they were once more distant, buried under a layer of cotton. Her head filled with a not so unpleasant buzz as fatigue washed over her like a wave. The physician moved away from the bed, allowing Anna to slide into his place. Elsa turned toward her sister, blinking heavily.
There was fear and concern on her little sister's face, and Elsa wanted to comfort her, to let her know that in the end, everything would be okay. It would all work out for the best. She opened her mouth, but before she could even take a breath, the comforting abyss pulled her under.
Anna walked aimlessly down the hallway, with no actual destination in mind. She knew she couldn't go far—they were still technically in enemy territory, and she didn't want to wander too far from her sister, in case she was needed. In case something happened. For now, though, Elsa was okay, or at least as okay as could be expected. Anna couldn't stand to see her sister in pain, but Malthe had assured her that Elsa had just twisted the wrong way and had already been overdue for her next dose by nearly an hour. The royal physician had apologized profusely, explaining that he had run out of his own stock and had issues finding the herbs he needed here in the Keep. Thankfully, Rayna seemed rather knowledgeable in that area, and had helped him find what he was looking for in the apothecary's vast supply.
Over the past several days, the sisters had fallen into a surreal sort of routine. The painkillers left Elsa groggy, and directly after each dose she would sleep deeply for several hours. When she awoke next, her pain would be at a manageable level—or manageable according to Elsa—and her head clear enough to hold a steady conversation. She would still sometimes drift off if not actively engaged, and Anna was more than happy to allow it to happen, because the more Elsa slept, the better.
Anna walked down the hallway, knowing she had a few hours before her sister would wake again, and feeling conflicted about what they discussed. She couldn't imagine the council would ask Elsa to step down, and she knew they didn't have the power to force her. But Elsa seemed genuinely worried, in a way that Anna couldn't write off as anxiety, or her sister's penchant for being way too hard on herself. For the first time, she regretted not paying more attention to her tutors when they had tried to teach her the finer points of government.
She felt wholly unqualified to offer her sister the reassurance and support she desperately needed. But like Elsa, Anna wasn't alone, and had people willing to help her. People who could tell her if her sister's anxiety and worries were causing Elsa to overthink things, or if there was credibility to her fears. She was about to turn around and head back when she heard Kristoff's voice echoing through the halls from somewhere nearby. The very man she had been about to seek out answered him.
Anna followed the voices, rounding a corner that opened into a large balcony overlooking the sea.
"It bares further investigation—" He stopped talking when he caught sight of Anna walking onto the balcony. "Your Highness," he greeted with a dip of his chin.
"Admiral," she returned, then turned her attention to Kristoff. A wash of guilt rushed over her, knowing that she had neglected him over the last few days. He would understand, but that didn't make it okay, and she silently promised herself to make it up to him once this was all over. She reached out and folded her hand around his, giving it a squeeze. "Is everything okay?"
Kristoff gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah." He gestured to the older man. "I've been helping the Admiral where I can." Naismith nodded in agreement. Kristoff's lips turned in a frown as he looked over Anna's shoulder, then back to her face. "How are you doing? Is everything okay?"
"I'm good, mostly. And Elsa. . ." Anna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She almost said that that her sister was doing better, which wasn't entirely a lie. Elsa was doing better, physically. At least for the moment. She shook her head, looking to the Admiral. "She's worried about the council. Like, ready to abdicate, worried."
That got both men's undivided attention, their eyes widening. Naismith shook his head and held a hand in the air. "Hold on. Why don't you start from the beginning?"
Elsa had tried to be clear and thorough in her own explanation, anxious to make her sister understand what might happen when they returned home, and why. Anna had none of the speaking skills her older sister possessed, but took a deep breath and tried to explain as much as she could, as clearly as she could. When she finished, a heavy silence sat between them.
Naismith pressed his lips into a tight line, his brow wrinkled. At long last, he spoke. "I'm afraid to say Queen Elsa may have a valid reason for her concern."
The regret in his expression caused Anna's stomach to drop. Fresh worry for her sister's wellbeing, physical, mental, and emotional, twisted it into knots.
"I'm not sure I understand," Kristoff said, shaking his head. "How can the council have that sort of power? Elsa's the Queen. Doesn't that mean she's technically above the laws?"
"The more power you have, the tighter your cage becomes," Anna said idly, remembering some dusty passage she'd read ages ago. Or perhaps it was something their mother had said to her.
The Admiral dipped his chin in agreement. "Legally, the council's only power is that which the Queen allows them to have. They exist to assist the Queen, offering advice in their respective fields. However, the council is also meant to be represent the interests of the people.
"After the Queen's Winter, there were many people who didn't trust the Queen or were, at least, wary of her magic. Her dedication to fixing the damage caused by her storm, to the point of her collapsing in the council chambers, didn't go unnoticed. Not by the council, nor by the people of Arendelle. As unfortunate as the event was, it went a long way toward soothing those fears, and with the festival it helped people to see Her Majesty as someone that can be trusted and relied upon.
"The events that happened here in Hasvik and with the Sirma, caused damage not to Arendelle herself, but to the Queen and her reputation. The council can't do anything on their own. We need the Queen's backing to take any action. And the council itself may not even be an issue, as we have worked closely with the Queen for the last few years. There are still a few members who were not pleased with the revelation of her magic, or what it might mean for the world at large. They can request or even demand that the Queen step down, but can't actually force her to do anything. She can deny their request and, if she wished, even remove them from the council for the mere suggestion."
"The problem is the people?" Anna asked, frowning as she remembered her sister's worry about people getting hurt if the issue was pushed.
Naismith nodded. "If the people of Arendelle lose faith in the Queen, and one of the council members chooses to fuel that fire . . . unfortunately, the news of her physician pronouncing her judgement compromised, even for a short time, will be used against her by those who want her off the throne."
"But she was being drugged and manipulated," Kristoff interjected, waving a hand toward the Keep. "She gave herself up to the Sirma because she thought she was protecting her people. She allowed them to use her because she wanted to protect her sister. She only listened to Markkus because she thought she could protect her people by learning to better control her magic. Everything she's done has been with the intention of protecting someone else."
"I know that, and you know that." The Admiral sighed heavily. "But that won't stop her enemies from trying to twist the information they have to suit their own agenda."
"There has to be something we can to do to protect her." Anna folded her arms over her chest, feeling chilled, and fully intending to do just that. Kristoff was right; her sister had been through hell to keep her safe. After everything Elsa has been through, everything she's done to protect others, it was only right that someone protect her. Her shoulders slumped. "Unfortunately, we can't not tell the council."
"Why not?" Kristoff asked.
"If we refused to tell them what happened, they could just accuse Elsa of keeping secrets."
"Which would also be used against her," Naismith finished.
"So, their biggest concerns would obviously be the drug, and Elsa's being declared unfit, right?" Kristoff folded his arms over his chest.
Anna nodded. "Both could be used to call her judgement into question, along with her magic further clouding her choices. They could prove, falsely, that she isn't fit to rule. At least, that's what Elsa seems most worried about."
"How many people know those details?"
Anna frowned, thinking over the past few weeks. When she tried to put it in order in her mind, her head spun. "Well," she said slowly, "the only people who knew we declared her compromised are myself, the Admiral, Malthe, and Captain Jogeir. And you," she added, looking at Kristoff. "Alarik knows she had ordered us to return home and stand down, and that Elsa was given some sort of drug, but he doesn't know all the details."
"Hmm." Naismith studied Kristoff for a moment. "I think I know what you're getting at. But it's not something the Queen would ever approve of."
"That's because Elsa refuses to put her own wellbeing before anyone else's," Kristoff replied.
"Hold on." Anna held her hands up, patting the air as she looked between the two men. "I'm not sure I'm following."
"There are only a few people who know the truth of what happened here. And all are trustworthy. The closest thing we have to a wild card is Alarik, and I feel that despite his earlier mistakes, he has more than proven his loyalty to the Queen." The Admiral paused, turning to look out at the blue-grey water. "I believe what Kristoff is suggesting is that we give the council a version of the story that paints the Queen in more of a favorable light."
"Elsa would never agree to that," Anna replied automatically, though she was by no means against the idea. In fact, she fully supported it.
Kristoff shrugged. "Like I said."
Anna knew her sister would never consent to them altering the truth, or worse, outright lying. In Elsa's eyes, it would be too risky for them to do so just for the sake of protecting her. But she refused to believe there was nothing they could do. She wasn't going to allow the council to drag her sister through the mud, or anyone else for that matter. She had an idea, one that might leave Elsa upset with her. Her sister hated when people risked themselves for her, but she also didn't realize how important she was, how much they all needed her. Elsa's job was to protect the kingdom; their job was to protect her. There was a chance this plan could backfire, but if it meant protecting her sister, Anna was more than willing to bear the cost.
She nodded, her confidence in her plan growing. "Admiral, I think it's time The Gambit returned to Arendelle."