A sunbeam arc had wormed its way through the crack in Elsa's lavvu hut and caught her right in the eye. She squinted, opening her eyes to the muted wash of sunlight beating down on the outside of her tent. Some birds chirped in the distance, and the first thing she noticed was that her headache was blessedly gone. She turned to the space next to her in search of the person who had been the cause of that—to find Maren gone. A pang of longing hit her. But in her place was a small plate of different berries, nuts, herbs and a cup full of warm mint tea.
She smiled at Maren's thoughtfulness—and she was hungry. The day before had been so busy, she wasn't sure she had eaten much of anything at all. Maren of course would remember something like that. She always paid attention to little things, especially about Elsa, and she felt safe knowing someone out here cared that much about her well being. The food part of transitioning to the forest had been a tough change in the beginning, but Maren had helped her with that too. She had never been one to eat much meat, it never sat right with her and unfortunately, a staple of the Northuldran diet was meat and fish. But something had happened to her in Ahtohallan that first time she'd ventured there, and now she couldn't eat any meat at all without getting sick. She was still figuring out all the exact ways she'd been changed after Ahtohallan. At first she had thought it was just emotionally and spiritually, but she came to realize there had been physical changes within her as well. Besides being sickened at the thought of eating meat, her powers had grown. They hadn't necessarily become stronger, but more precise perhaps. She could call the magic with much more ease and fluidity than before, and could accurately control it at much further distances even when she couldn't see the manifestation of it. She felt more connected to her magic after that too, more at peace with it—similarly to how she had since felt more connected to herself in certain ways and to nature.
Maren had noticed about the food right away, and had helped her find other things to eat that didn't include meat. She felt bad at first, as she didn't want to offend the people who had kindly taken her in, but she had quickly learned they were not a judgemental type of people. Maren told her that many of them opted not to eat meat also. For some, like her, it just didn't sit well. Others didn't believe in eating animals, and some did it to raise their vibration and become closer to the oneness of nature. That last bit had intrigued her, as she had then wondered if that was part of what had happened to her in Ahtohallan. It had felt like her energy—or vibration—as Maren would call it, had been heightened when she was in there. She practically felt her whole body humming, and still it happened every time she went back—the glacier itself just felt so alive. It was mostly Maren's hypothesis, but she tended to agree with it. There really wasn't any other explanation for the strange changes to her body.
Elsa quickly re-braided her hair and changed into her Arendelle travel outfit—the blue tunic and boots she had first worn when she arrived in the forest—as the white ice outfit she now preferred was still a bit ostentatious for Arendellians, and she preferred to go unnoticed there as much as possible these days. It was important the people of Arendelle saw Anna as their queen now, and not her.
Once finished, she grabbed the plate and cup of tea and went outside to the little wooden table and chairs she had set up there, to enjoy the morning. The sun was shining and it looked to be a beautiful day—perfect for travel down to Arendelle.
She popped a cloudberry in her mouth and leaned back in the chair. Her mother had shown her how to identify and pick different kids of wild edible berries—she knew the differences between cloudberries, lingonberries and bilberries—all of which were on her plate now, picked by Maren. So many little things like that had come back to her about her mother the more time she spent up here in the forest. Little things she never saw at the time, but now recognized as being clearly Northuldran. She felt closer to her mother than she had felt in a long time living up here, living the way she once did amongst the people she came from. There were times she even felt her presence up here, especially when she was out in the woods by herself— though that could possibly just be her imagination. A heaviness settled on her chest. If only she had put all the little pieces together sooner, perhaps she could've learned more from and about her mother when she was alive. But then again how could she have ever known that her mother was Northuldran? And after finding out the truth about her grandfather's distrust of magic and indigenous people—there was no way to blame her parents for keeping her, her mother and Anna's Northuldran heritage a secret. Though it was still magical to think about the lost little Northuldran girl whom saved, then fell in love with a prince and became queen of Arendelle. She smiled and took a sip of her tea. That was the stuff of fairy tales.
Only, her mother had actually lived it. Had found the strength not only to cope with the loss of her family and make a life for herself in a strange new land alone, but had come to love someone who by all rights, she should have hated. The sheer strength her mother possessed was always something she admired, and was something she had held onto, long after her death. Her strength as a queen was what she'd leaned on in her former years of life—and now, her strength as a queen and Northuldran woman was what she would hold tightly to. If her mother could do all things—then so could she. Or so she tried to make herself believe.
What then, must it have been like to have had two mothers? Two pillars from which one could draw strength and mould themselves after? Probably no different than how she had looked up to her mother and father, but she wanted ask Maren more about what that was like later anyway. Two mothers. The fact that two women—or two men she supposed—could be in love and freely show it was indeed foreign to her, and if she were to admit it—the thought of other people knowing that about her still made her extremely uncomfortable. And yet—she couldn't deny these intense feelings that had developed for Maren over these past months. The way the Northuldra viewed same sex relationships made so much more sense when she thought about it, then did the rigid rules that governed Arendelle via religion. Love was love, and it shouldn't matter what form that took on as long as the people involved were happy. And she knew, her mother would want her to be happy.
'Contemplating the meaning of life again are we?' Yelena's voice startled her and caused her hand to jerk, spilling a bit of the tea on herself—most of which froze midair then sprinkled to the ground.
'Oh, excuse me…' She brushed her hands together to remove the iced tea on them. 'Good morning Yelena.'
'Glad to see you're eating. You're too skinny.' Elsa chuckled at Yelena's bluntness. Her eyes scanned around for Maren, assuming she would be near. She was almost always in Yelena's shadow.
'She's not here.' Yelena stated, reading Elsa's expression. 'She's gone to get Daisy ready for the journey.'
Of course that's where she'd gone. It'd been a few days since Maren had seen Daisy and she knew she didn't like to go that long without at least visiting her.
'May I?' Yelena asked, gesturing to the chair opposite Elsa. Elsa nodded.
Yelena snatched a berry off her plate and leaned back in her chair. 'Did she ever tell you the story about how she found Daisy?'
Elsa nodded. 'She did.'
Daisy was Maren's reindeer—her very beautiful, very rare white reindeer. Maren had had her since she was a girl, since she found Daisy abandoned and hurt in the Lichen Meadow fields which, at the time, were covered with daisies.
'She's very beautiful.'
'She is. But did she tell you the whole story about white reindeer?' Elsa shook her head and gave a quizzical look. Maren had not shared this.
'Well, as you know, white reindeer are incredibly rare and as you said, truly beautiful. However, people of old used to associate them with ghosts—spirits, and they feared them. They thought they were dangerous—bad omens—bringers of death and often they would try to kill them if they saw one. Even the reindeer's own kind usually abandoned it because of its inability to camouflage into the forest.'
Elsa just stared intently, waiting for the rest. It was so sad, and she empathized with the poor white reindeer, misunderstood and feared just for appearing different.
'Then on the other side of it, were the tribes who wished to capture the elusive white one—as some called it. They thought it was a goddess in animal form and sought to control it and use the magic they supposed it possessed for their own gain. Then still there were others, who revered it and made sacrifices in its name. Despite all of this, as we know, Daisy is just a regular reindeer like all the others—a beautiful and rare one at that—but does she not have all the same animalistic needs as the others? The need for companionship and love? Would not it be unfair to deny her these things other deers enjoy, or to set unrealistic expectations of her to be something others thought she was, simply because she's different?'
Elsa had the distinct impression they were no longer talking about Daisy.
'No, it would not be fair to Daisy at all. And Maren,' Yelena smiled softly as she recalled the memory. 'She was the one who figured that out first. She saw through the whole charade of mythos surrounding the white one and simply saw a distressed, scared little baby reindeer, desperately in need of someone to care for and love it. And so she did—much to the chagrin of many of our fellow people—yet now those two are inseparable.'
There was a long pause as Elsa struggled to find her voice. 'Maren is able to see what's on the inside, not just the outside.' It came out of her throat as no more than a whisper.
'Elsa, look at me.' Her eyes had been dangling over the plate of fruit and she begrudgingly brought them up to meet Yelena's gaze. But her stare wasn't penetrating this time, it was soft and understanding. 'You don't have to fear any feelings you have for her—just as Daisy didn't. It's very normal to feel those things, very human. I realize you grew up in a very different environment where such things are not accepted. But that doesn't mean you need to deny yourself happiness now.'
Elsa felt a tear slip out and she quickly swiped it away, returning her eyes to the plate of fruit in front of her. Something about what Yelena had said felt as though some invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she nodded slightly, unable to find any appropriate words.
'Good. Now, finish your berries and get out of here.' She made a shooing motion with her hands. 'Maren tells me her brother and your sister may have burned down the kingdom by now.'
This caused her to chuckle—and it was possibly not far off the truth.
'Yelena.' She called as the woman started to walk away. 'Thank you.'
'Anytime... white one.' Yelena chuckled as she walked away. Elsa smiled and shook her head. She really had come to love Yelena. It was nice having a motherly presence back in her life again. She hadn't realized until just then how much she truly had missed that. She downed the rest of the tea, popped a few berries in her mouth and grabbed the rest in her hand to go find Maren and Daisy.
When she found them, Maren already had Daisy fixed with the saddle and saddle bags and was brushing her coat with one hand, stroking her neck with the other. A sinister smile crept over Elsa's lips—Maren hadn't seen her. What a perfect opportunity to implement some of the training Maren had been teaching her. Maren was incredibly stealthy in the woods and was always able to sneak up on her, but she had yet to be able to do the same to her. It was maddening. It was always her footsteps that gave her away—Maren could hear her no matter how much she practiced stepping lightly. She swore the woman had the senses of a bloodhound. So this time she splayed out a hand and quietly created a small pathway of snow leading right up to her unsuspecting victim. She took a step, then another—not an ounce of noise. She silently congratulated herself—she was in her element now, and Maren didn't stand a chance. Confident in her silence, she crept a touch faster—one foot after the other. She was nearly upon them when—
'I felt the cold from that you know.' Elsa stopped dead in her tracks, her victory crushed. Maren turned around to face her.
'And Daisy was staring right at you.' She smiled and put her hands on her hips as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Also that's cheating.' Maren stated bluntly and gestured towards the snow.
Elsa placed her own hands on her hips and let out a dramatic sigh. 'And they say I'm the one with the strange powers.' This caused Maren to laugh outright.
'You are kinda strange.' Maren returned playfully as she finished with Daisy's straps.
Elsa dispersed the snow and walked over next to Maren. 'Thank you for breakfast.'
'You don't eat enough.' She poked Elsa's belly, causing her to recoil from the tickle. 'I swear you'd forget to eat at all if I didn't place food in front of you.'
Elsa chuckled. 'You might be right.' She admitted guiltily.
'Oh I know I'm right. I guess you'll have to keep me around so you don't waste away and starve to death.' She said as she turned to mount Daisy.
Elsa smiled and watched her mount up. She looked so regal sitting atop Daisy, her dark hair in stark contrast to Daisy's white coat pulled at her eyes and left her transfixed. She looked so confident and regal—more like a queen than Elsa ever supposed she did—queen of the forest.
Daisy trotted happily over, and Elsa stroked her snout before Maren extended a hand down to her. 'Escort you to your steed?' Maren had put on her best Arendellian accent and Elsa couldn't help but laugh. She reached up and clasped wrists with Maren who easily swung her up and over the back of Daisy's saddle. She wrapped her arms around Maren's middle and put her chin over her shoulder.
'I prefer your Northuldran accent.' Elsa whispered near her ear. She caught a small smile form over Maren's profile at her words.
'Let's go see if Arendelle still stands.' Maren jested in her normal voice, and off they flew into the woods.
'Elsa, my god. What even is this?' Anna muttered to the empty room as she poured over a bizarre diagram Elsa had drawn her. Scribbled at the top in Elsa's hand was 'Trade & Shipping Routes' underlined three times and that was the beginning and the end of what Anna understood of that miserable piece of paper. It was a map at one point—perhaps… But now there were little paths connected to arrows scribbled manically all over the entire thing. Some on land, some through the sea and all overlapping into one grand indecipherable mess. There was some kind of key or legend at the bottom but it was as useless as the rest of the map. Of course this was Elsa, so surely this had its precise reasonings and accuracies of that she was sure, but tell that to the little people who tried to decipher it. There was no way this kind of ludicrous brain activity was healthy. Was this what it was like in Elsa's head constantly? If so, Anna was ready to abdicate right then and there and fling the entire kingdom right back at her sister. And then get her head examined by a physician. But no, she would get this, she would get this. She had to get this. For Elsa, she had to. Eventually, with time. You can do it. That's what Elsa kept telling her, though she was seriously beginning to doubt it at this point.
She moved on to the next sheet of paper below the deranged map, which was a detailed list of trade goods and quantities listed numerically by quantity and each attached to the name of a different kingdom. Likely, the kingdoms from which each good came—ok, this at least made a bit more sense—but when and why did she need this information in the first place again? Trade seemed to go on with or without her involvement, so what was the purpose of this little sheet? Was it just for her to review, or was she supposed to actually do something with it? What had Elsa said about it… Something about keeping personal notes to check against the official records… Ugh. Why though? Weren't the officials paid official money to do the official job? Did she really need to keep separate notes? Was there some other reason or was this just a particularly Elsa thing? Probably the latter—but she had no idea and her head hurt trying to think like her sister. No one's mind worked like Elsa's, that much was abundantly clear. And yet, she was always so on top of everything. Nothing ever escaped her notice. How had she done all of this?
Anna slumped back in the chair, resting her head on it and let out a long exasperated sigh. She turned her head to the side and looked at the crown that had been brought in not long before—which was now perched in its stand on the fireplace mantle. Her crown, now. The gemstone had finally been placed in the center of it—the light blue diamond crystal that had been the centerpiece of Elsa's and their mother's crown before her, now resided in her own. She turned her head away from it, unwilling to accept the finality of it. She hadn't done it right away—asked for the crystal to be placed in her new crown. Some part of her hoped that Elsa would still come back and take this all away from her. But that had not happened. Nor would it. Elsa was happy, of that she was sure, and she was happy for her—and when it became overtly clear that this new life of theirs—this new separate life—was permanent, that's when she had decided to have the crystal placed in her crown. A symbol of the great queens that had come before her and hopefully from which, she could draw strength from now. Perhaps when people saw it on her, it would remind them that Queen Elsa and Queen Iduna had once stood before them, and perhaps by that grace they would take her seriously even if she didn't always know what she was doing.
It was something, at least.
She stood up to walk over to Elsa's balcony. Stupid as it seemed, she hadn't wanted anything of Elsa's touched or moved after she left. Her room, her desk and ridiculous amount of books and papers, her clothes that she didn't take with her, all still resided in her room just as she had left them—and that's how it would stay. She had all but moved in there now anyway. At first she had just started sleeping in Elsa's bed, missing her smell and feeling like she maybe missed her a little bit less when she slept there. But then she hadn't wanted any of the papers taken out either, so she'd resorted to working at Elsa's desk, which took up more time than she ever thought it would, so inevitably she'd just moved in permanently.
She opened the balcony doors and let the cool spring air wash over her as she leaned on the railing. Of course Elsa wasn't dead, she still came back once a week at least. Maybe less so recently, but either way it was just never enough. She missed her. She wasn't afraid to admit it, but she was loathe to tell her that too often. They were the bridge, this is how it was meant to be and she had to learn to accept it—even if she had initially wanted to strangle the magic out of Elsa when this whole sordid situation had been suggested. But she hadn't. Elsa belonged in nature, she knew that. Perhaps a part of her had always known that which is why she'd been so desperate to hold on so tightly to her. She knew one day she would have to leave. And she couldn't deny that she had never in her entire life seen Elsa as happy as the day she had returned from Ahtohallan that first time. She was practically glowing, and Anna had cried upon seeing her. Not just because she was relieved she was alive, but because deep down she knew she was going to lose her again. She had finally found her place, her purpose, her peace in this world, the answers she so desperately needed and so acutely deserved—even if that place was not under the same roof as Anna anymore. If only she could figure out how to find that same sense of peace for herself now.
She squinted her eyes across the bright glassy fjord, searching the direction from which her big sister usually rode in on. But there was nothing out there. Just white blinding water and empty mountains. Both only reminded her of Elsa, so she dropped her head into her hands to block it out.
Elsa please, I can't do this alone. Get back here.
I need you.
