AN: I hope everyone enjoys the latest chapter and don't forget to tip your tiny ice dragon on the way out!
After the meal with Markkus, the same two guards who brought her to him escorted Elsa once more through the winding halls until they arrived at another room. The door was opened for her but neither followed her in. She crossed the threshold, and the door closed with a faint click that caused Elsa's chest to tighten painfully.
"Hello."
The light but sudden voice made Elsa jump, a ring of frost spreading around her feet. She turned toward the speaker and found a young woman standing in the middle of the room. Elsa was distracted enough, and tired enough, that for a moment, she thought the girl standing in the middle of the room was her sister. Her heart soared, and then sank as she realized it wasn't Anna. In no way did she want her sister to be trapped in the fortress as well, but that didn't make her miss the girl any less.
Elsa folded her hands in front of her and studied the younger girl. She had red hair and freckles and looked to be Anna's age, if not a couple of years younger. Elsa didn't know who the girl was, or why she was in the room. "Hello," she returned politely, but cautiously.
The girl curtsied. "I'm Rayna, though most of my friends just call me Ray. Markkus asked me to make sure you have everything you need while you're here."
"Oh." Elsa offered her a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you."
"He also gave me a quick rundown of what's going on. I know you don't want to be here," Ray said with a shrug. "I can't blame you. But since you're stuck for now, you might as well be comfortable. If you need anything at any point, even in the middle of the night, just let me know. Or you can tell one of the guards outside the room, and they'll come fetch me."
"That's very kind of you." Even so, Elsa's gaze ticked toward the closed door at the mention of guards stationed on the other side.
A smile lit up the girl's face. She gestured toward a privacy screen that had been set up across the room. "I poured you a hot bath," she said. "Which is something I'm guessing you, uh . . ." Her gaze roamed over Elsa's aggressively dirty outfit.
"Appreciate more than you could know," Elsa finished for her. She could only imagine, after the events of the past few weeks, just how dirty she must look, or how bad she must smell. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Several council members, and possibly members of the household staff, namely Gerda, would have a heart attack if they saw the Queen in her current state. The imagined look on the woman's face almost brought a chuckle to Elsa's lips. Almost.
"If you like, I can send your clothing to be washed and mended," Ray offered. "I will also get you something to wear until that's done, of course. Do you have any preference?" Ray folded her hands behind her back and rocked on the balls of her feet.
Elsa couldn't help but smile at the girl. "That would be wonderful, thank you, Ray. As for clothing, I don't have a preference. Anything you have on hand will be fine."
"Great. If you want, I'll wait for you to, uh . . ." The girl bobbed her head toward the privacy screen and the bath waiting behind it.
Elsa nodded and crossed the room to duck behind the screen. The whole scene felt so normal, so like home, that she had to remind herself not to get comfortable or let her guard slip. Ray seemed like a sweet girl who genuinely wanted to help, and Elsa wanted to believe she was just that. But she was in unknown territory, with unknown people, and trust was a commodity she couldn't afford. She could, however, afford a bath. The luxury of being clean once more was something she had never imagined she would be so excited for.
Elsa peeled off her dirty clothes and draped them over the top of the privacy screen. A moment later, they disappeared. She heard the door to the room open and close as she stepped into the bath. She sunk into the tub, the steaming water immediately going to work on her sore, bruised muscles. She felt each one relaxing slowly, like melting butter, and a sigh rolled passed her lips as she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the tub.
Suddenly, the water around her felt much cooler, and Elsa realized she had been so content to be still for a moment, that she had drifted off. She sat up and cupped water in her hands, splashing it across her face to infuse a bit of energy and wash away the dregs of sleep. She then got to work scrubbing away the dirt and, she realized with a sour twist in her stomach, the blood that stained her skin and was matted in her hair.
She scrubbed at her skin until it was red, making sure every lingering bit of evidence of the last few weeks was gone. Once satisfied, Elsa stepped out of the tub to dry off with a soft towel that hung from the privacy screen, then wrapped herself in the robe hanging next to it. The robe was a shade of light brown and made from a soft material Elsa couldn't readily identify. She wrapped it around herself, tying it securely, then twisted her wet hair, securing it in a loose bun so it was off her shoulders.
Warm and clean, Elsa walked around the screen and took her first good look at the room. To the right side of the tub, was a large fireplace. Opposite of the fireplace was a bed piled high with soft fur blankets and splitting the middle of the room was a bookshelf filled with books, along with a small round table and chair. The room was smaller than her own in Arendelle but seemed comfortable and cozy in its own right. There was a large window directly across from the room's only door.
Elsa walked to the window, hoping the view beyond with provide a clue as to where she was, or even a possible escape. That hope died as soon as she peered out. There was a sheer drop from her window, where the stone face of the fortress blended into the cliff and straight down into the roaring ocean, which stretched outward and disappeared behind a misty veil. She hadn't truly expected to be able to escape through the window, but her heart still sank to see it was entirely out of the question.
She released a long breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she turned back to the bed. Elsa suddenly felt exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep on something other than a cot or sitting against a wooden pole. There were clothes laid out on the bed, a simple long-sleeved black shift dress like Rayna had been wearing.
Elsa ran her fingertips over the soft cloth, then shifted the dress to the side. She pulled back the blankets and crawled into bed still wrapped in the robe, buried under the fur blankets. She immediately yawned, gaze drifting to the window, where the daylight was fading, the moon rising. She thought of Anna, wondering how her sister was doing, if she was safe. She laid her head back against the blissfully soft pillows and was asleep in the next breath.
Anna drew in a deep breath of cold air, letting it nip at her lungs as she stood outside the command tent, watching the last bit of sunlight melt away. She wrapped her arms around herself, her mind wondering to her sister, where she was, if she was okay. Her fingers curled tightly into her shirt as she resisted the ever present and overwhelming feeling of helplessness. She wouldn't let herself give into it, she cried enough tears, and this was just another setback, one more obstacle to overcome. They would get through this and come out on the other side stronger, she truly believed that, had to believe that. With Elsa missing their people would be looking to Anna to know what to do, to decide what to do. She couldn't let her sister down.
Erik's story had given her a lot to think about and left her with even more questions. She wondered if there was any relation between their people or a connection to Elsa's magic. She thought about their parents, if they had known about the Sirma and Vindarr, about their magic. Anna knew they had to have known of the northern tribe, they'd been a minor nuisance to Arendelle's for generations. But had they known any more than that? Anna sighed, she supposed there wasn't much use in obsessing over questions she'd never get the answers too and magic wasn't the only thing that had Anna's thoughts churning.
Erik told them he knew where the Vindarr made home, and where they would have taken Tyr and Elsa, but that was where the good news had ended. While the Sirma lived in a series of villages that dotted the northern coast, the Vindarr lived on a tight cluster of frozen islands a few days to the northwest of them. Anna didn't need experience in sailing to know a 'tight cluster of islands' would be difficult to navigate in any sizable vessel.
Then like the world's worst parfait, Erik added another layer of bad news to an already substantial pile. Most of the Vindarr lived in a large fortress, one that was raised from the ground with stolen earth magic, and if that wasn't enough, he went on to admit that he didn't actually know which of the islands the fortress was on because a dense fog surrounded the frozen archipelago, one he believed to be created with water magic, making it impossible to navigate.
One more layer, one more problem.
When Erik told them, the only person he knew to have sailed to the fortress and back was none other than Tyr, that had been the tipping point. Anna had never seen Alarik lose his temper. He accused Erik of stalling and his brother of several other, less kind things. She was pretty sure she heard some name calling between the two before Admiral Naismith broke it up, telling Alarik to take a walk and cool his head. Shortly after it was decided that they'd break for the night, it was late, and they were all tired and stressed. They couldn't make any plans with emotions running high.
Anna was reluctant to stop for the night, having the need to do something, but Naismith was correct, they needed rest and even if they knew the exact location of the fortress, there was nothing they could do. The Sirma had no large boats, only fishing vessels. Unless they wanted to sail up to the Vindarr's doorstep and try asking them nicely to return her sister, they were left at a standstill.
At first light a message would be sent to Arendelle, orders for the ships standing by to set sail north with a location for them to meet up at. The admiral told her it would take a few days for the ships to make the journey north, giving them time to locate the island and come up with a plan to rescue Elsa.
A few days. That meant more time Elsa was in the hands of people who could try to use her for their own ends. Anna knew her sister was strong, and without something to force her hand, Elsa would refuse to allow the Vindarr to use her magic as a weapon. And that's what scared Anna the most, because while they were sitting around waiting, planning, anything could happen, and she'd be powerless to stop it.
Something bumped her leg, Anna knelt, scratching the large head of the ever-present snow leopard. "We'll get her back."
Since arriving back at the camp, the large cat had stayed by her side, a silent steady comfort that if nothing else, her sister was still alive. She had a feeling that Rune was seeking comfort just as much as Anna and found herself once more, curious about the connection Elsa shared with her creations.
How extensive it went, if each one shared a different sort of connection, if distance made that connection weaker. It was obvious Rune was able to feel out Elsa's physical location, Olaf was able to sense strong emotions from her. She wasn't sure about Marshmallow but imagined there was something there.
Anna sighed softly, her breath clouding in the night air. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the tent flap open, and Kristoff walk out, he wrapped his arms around himself, warding off the cold nip in the air.
"Hey, how you holding up?"
Anna gave Rune one last scratch, then stood up. She shrugged, "Okay I guess."
Kristoff reached out taking both Anna's hands in his own and rubbing some warmth back into them. "We'll get her back, you know," he said, unknowingly echoing her own words.
"I know, I just—" Her eyes drooped to the ground. "I'm worried what state she'll be in when we do. With everything the Sirma put her through and now this . . ." Anna shook her head, she had barely seen her sister since Tyr took them captive, what little she did, she knew was a mask, a brave face to hide the storm brewing underneath. She had no idea how her sister was handling everything.
"Elsa is one of the strongest people I know," he gave her hands a quick squeeze, ducking his head to find her eyes. "No matter what happens, we'll get through it." He reached up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close.
Markkus stood in front of the large picture window with his arms crossed, watching the far-off white froth of rolling ocean waves. The more violently the waves crashed, the calmer and more centered he felt, like an eternal dance between light and dark, one enabling the other. The crackling fire behind him kept the room at a comfortable temperature, though he could feel the night's chill through the glass of the window, the promise of an icy storm.
It was as if they knew what now resided in his fortress.
When the Sirma started winning their battles it had been disconcerting but not unexpected. He knew Tyr to be both a strategic fighter and a ruthless commander and where there was a stubborn ass, there was a way. For generations it had been an endless game of tug and war, two diametrically opposed foes circling each other, nipping at one another's heels. Markkus was content to let it remain that way, using the battles and skirmishes to hone his warrior's skills, something to cut their teeth on.
At least he was, until Tyr decided to up the ante some months ago.
Even then Markkus wouldn't commit to wasting his mages in a fight if he didn't need to, not in a battle where the only reward was bragging rights. When it was reported back to him that the last few battles had not only been sweeping victories for the Sirma, but that they had an ice mage fighting with them, that was not only unexpected but concerning.
The Sirma didn't use their mages, or shaman as they preferred to call them, to fight. The Landvættir wouldn't allow it. It was the very thing that caused a divide between the two people, and why they continued to war with each other. Which then begged the question, where did Tyr get this mage?
So, Markkus set up a trap, knowing Tyr wouldn't be able to refuse the bait, and sent two of his mages to retrieve both Tyr and this ice mage.
Despite his words at dinner, Markkus had been there to greet the sloop as it docked, wanting to ensure the mage remained unconscious until he was ready for her. He soon found his caution wasn't needed as the mage's magic was already bound with by the very cuffs stolen from them years ago.
Interesting, that meant Tyr didn't trust her. He stood by, watching as his men carried her off the small ship and noted the half-melted ice that clung to the wood where she had been laying. The start of a plan began to form in his mind, but he would need information first.
Tyr had been reluctant to talk, though Markkus found it wasn't out of any compulsion to protect the woman. Tyr was just being what Tyr had always been. A prideful, arrogant ass. It was those same flaws that had offered the Landvættir up on a silver platter all those months ago. His pride would be the death of him, but not today.
After some encouragement, Tyr started talking and it was clear Markkus's first assumption had been correct. The Sirma leader didn't trust nor care much for the woman beyond what she could do for him. The conversation had left him with several things to consider, one of the more pressing was where she came from.
Arendelle. A kingdom to their south. He'd heard of them in passing; a kingdom that had given up the old ways some generations ago. He never cared to learn more beyond that, the kingdom offered little in the way of strategic value and it wasn't worth trying to take on their military just for some land gain. But that wasn't the only tidbit of information his rival had offered up and with an irritatingly smug expression, Tyr informed him that his new prisoner wasn't just a citizen of the southern country, she was their Queen.
Markkus had to admit, that information set him back on his heels, and for a moment he was unsure how to proceed. If she was a queen that meant she had a military behind her, one that would most likely come for her and that was a complication he hadn't been expecting. He wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet, but he knew he'd have to play his cards carefully.
The moment he met her there was no doubt in his mind that Tyr was telling the truth. She held herself with the quiet, commanding grace of someone who was used to controlling the room. He found himself mildly disappointed that she hid her identity from him, and a little surprised as well. He had expected her to loudly state that she was a queen, demand he release her or face her army.
She did none of these things. Instead she watched and listened, let him set up the pieces on the board and waited to see what his first move would be. Markkus couldn't help but think that under different circumstances she would be a fascinating opponent.
She did give up some bits of information though, the most surprising ones of the night in fact. The first being the unintentionally slip that she could hear the spirits, the Landvættir trapped inside the crystals. The second and perhaps more shocking, was that she was born with her magic and it came as natural to her as breathing. That information changed everything. Suddenly she wasn't just an ice mage with unnaturally strong abilities, she was something else entirely.
A light knock drew his attention, and he turned toward the door. "Enter," he called.
The door opened with a creak, and a small, red head poked into the room.
The girl hesitated on the threshold, and Markkus beckoned her inside. "Is she settled?" he asked walking to his desk and sitting down.
Rayna nodded. "I believe she's sleeping."
"Good." That meant she was feeling comfortable enough. It was important that she not feel threatened, or cornered, even if she did not truly feel safe. "What else?"
"Nothing in her clothing but dirt. And blood," the girl added, her voice thick.
He wasn't surprised, he hadn't expected to find anything, the queen had been held captive by the Sirma for at least a couple of weeks now, anything useful she may have had would have already been taken.
"I think she trusts me. I think...I think I might remind her of someone."
"You do, but that's not for you to worry about." Markkus picked up a glass taking a long pull from it, before continuing. "Your only worry is to make sure she's comfortable."
"Yes sir."
He waved a hand, dismissing the young girl. As the door fell shut Markkus leaned back in his chair. He'd give the Queen a day to rest and recover from her ordeal, then talk to her. He had to admit he was quite interested in the woman he had in his fortress and the magic she wielded, but he knew that if he was going to get anywhere with her, he'd have to play this game on her terms.
