AN: o/ I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe and healthy. I hope everyone enjoys the latest chapter and don't forget to tip your local Chirssie0707 on the way out.


The guards escorted Elsa back, leaving her once more alone in the room. As soon as the door closed, she started pacing, wringing her hands together. Her mind a cacophony of thoughts, jumping from one thing to another at a rapid pace. Her sister, Markkus, his offer, Arendelle, her magic, Anna. Elsa pressed her fingers to her forehead, as though the physical contact would slow the spiraling feelings.

She blew out a shaky breath and looked to the door. Ray would be in soon with lunch, but Elsa's stomach twisted at the thought of food, churning with the same turbulence as her thoughts. After the girl left, though, she would be clear for a few hours at least, allowing plenty of time to do what she needed to.

Elsa sank into a chair, tapping her fingertips against the hardwood surface of the table, before shoving back out of her seat. She walked over to her bed and snatched up the book she'd been reading earlier, then carried it back. She dropped back into the chair and flipped through the pages, looking for where she had left off in the story earlier that day.

Her mind kept drifting back to Markkus's offer, to Tyr's warning. She had little reason to believe Markkus's sincerity, but even less reason to believe Tyr. Considering they were enemies, it was likely Tyr was merely trying to plant just enough doubt in Elsa's mind to keep her from joining forces with the Vindarr. It made sense; at least, she thought it did.

Elsa pressed a shaky hand to her forehead as her eyes slipped shut. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it back out slowly. She needed to concentrate on one problem at a time.

It wasn't long before Ray brought in lunch, as expected, leaving shortly after to take care of whatever filled her afternoons, which seemed to be the routine they were slowly settling into. Elsa eyed the offered lunch, but found her stomach was still too twisted in knots to even consider eating. She set the food aside and walked to the large window.

She studied the frame, running her fingers along the edge until she found what she was looking for, the small latch that locked the window shut. Elsa dug her finger under the latch and, with some effort, shifted it halfway to the unlocked position before it became stuck and refused to budge any farther. She pushed against the glass, hoping it would be enough, but the window remained firmly in place.

Elsa clenched her jaw, staring at the offending object. She looked around the room for something to use against the latch, but her heart sank when she saw only books, a ceramic mug, and an equally breakable plate. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. A sharp metal clink stopped her mid-action. Eyebrows raised, she looked down at the cuffs on her wrists, then to the latch and back again, an idea taking form in her mind.

Elsa positioned herself alongside the window, then slammed the left cuff down against the latch. She felt it move. Holding her breath, she repeated the action, until the latch finally popped open with a satisfying crack.

She shook out her sore wrist, then pushed the window open. The frame groaned in protest and stopped moving after opening no more than an inch, but that was all she needed. Elsa drew in a deep breath of cool ocean air and waited.

A gust of chilly air brushed pass her, fluttering through her hair and bringing with it a flurry of snowflakes that swirled around the small table before settling into the form of a small white dragon. Elsa smiled as she walked over to the table. She ran a finger along the dragon's spine, and it curled up against her hand, offering a rumbling purr in response.

She hadn't lied to Markkus; the dragon wasn't like Olaf, Marshmallow, or even Rune. It wasn't living in the same sense they were. It was more like an automaton, a mechanical doll that could perform a series of programmable functions. She recalled reading about a Swiss mechanician who had created one sometime in the last century. The book she was reading also mentioned the little dolls, both giving life to an idea when Markkus asked for a demonstration of her magic.

The dragon was more advanced than the automatons she had read about. A flush crept across Elsa's cheeks as she realized she didn't know how the creature was different, only that it was. She knew it wasn't alive, and that once it had fulfilled its purpose, the magic holding it together would fade.

Elsa squared her shoulders and sat in front of the dragon. When she held out a hand, it relinquished the two items clutched in its claws: a fountain pen and inkwell.

"I will not ask where this came from," Elsa said, in a light tone, "but you know you are going to have to return it?"

The dragon laid its head down across its legs, responding with a frosty huff.

"Mhm." Elsa twisted her lips and narrowed her gaze the dragon.

She reached for the book she had left on the table, flipping to the back and ripping out the last few pages. Elsa settled the papers in front of her and dipped the pen into the inkwell, only to hesitate with the tip hovering over the topmost page. She knew she was going to have to word this letter with the utmost care. Her chest tightened, knowing that what she was about to do was unfair to her sister, but that it had to be done. She could only hope that Anna would understand and would forgive her when all this was over.

Elsa placed the tip of the pen against the paper and dragged it across the parchment, creating looping, graceful letters. It wasn't until she had finished the message and was rolling the parchment that she winced, realizing one page contained the ending to the story she'd been reading. She sighed. Maybe once she reunited with her sister, she could find out how the story ended.


Anna's worry for her sister had become a tangible thing, like an additional person, a third party in their still-new relationship. Kristoff had never felt so useless, so unsure of what to do to help. The entire time he'd known Anna, he'd been able to comfort her just by being at her side, but without her sister there, without knowing Elsa was safe, it was like Anna wasn't whole. She was inconsolable, and Kristoff was at a loss of where to even try to start.

She spent the last few days alternating between pacing within the Sirma command tent, where the Admiral had set up a temporary command post, and pacing throughout through the camp, traveling paths she seemed to have laid out in her mind as she looked for any and every way possible to distract herself. Sometimes, Kristoff trailed a few steps behind Anna, there if she needed him, but allowed her the space, knowing that he wasn't who she needed right now. Truth be told, there wasn't much for any of them to do, and even less anyone was willing to allow the heir to the crocus throne to do, let alone the ice harvester permitted to tag along for his knowledge of mountain passes. He had nothing to offer during a political, or tactical, discussion. Anna wasn't taking too well to being sidelined, but Admiral Naismith and Captain Jogeir had reminded her on several occasions, tactfully, that with the Queen missing, she was all Arendelle had. So no, she couldn't venture into potentially hostile territory looking for her sister.

Anna was pacing inside the command tent as Naismith and Jogeir spoke at the table. Erik sat rigidly on a cot with his hands bound and tethered to the pole where Kristoff was told they held Queen Elsa when she wasn't fighting their war. Each time Anna completed a circuit, her gaze would slide in his direction. She expressed some mixed feelings about chaining him to the pole, but Kristoff was more inclined to agree with Alarik when he called it poetic justice.

When an icy breeze blew into the tent Kristoff didn't think much of it, despite the relative warmth inside, it was a crisp evening. When the chilly blast shifted Anna's hair, however, her reaction was immediate and exaggerated. She stopped dead in her tracks, watching as the breeze carried a handful of snow flurries into the tent. She followed them over to the table, inadvertently grabbing the attention of the room as they swirled before settling into the shape of a...

Of a...

Kristoff cocked his head. "Is that a dragon?"

"It's Elsa!" Anna's eyes lighting up for the first time in days.

The admiral and captain wore twin frowns as they leaned in closer to the tiny, snowy beast.

"Elsa's a dragon?" Kristoff asked, the words slipping past his lips.

"No," she said, gesturing to the small dragon. "The dragon is from Elsa."

"Oh," he said, his cheeks burning. "Right." Kristoff rubbed the back of his head, chiding himself for such a foolish outburst. Of course, the tiny dragon made from ice and snow had come from Anna's older sister. He knew the Queen could do such things, had seen it firsthand.

Anna reached toward the dragon, wrapping her fingers around a rolled parchment in its talons that Kristoff hadn't noticed before. The creature relinquished the papers with ease, then its work completed, curled up on the table appearing to take a nap.

There was a light tremor in Anna's hands as her fingers unfurled the letter, and Kristoff took an instinctive step closer. Her eyes moved back and forth across the page, eagerly consuming the first real bit of communication she'd had with her sister in almost a week. Her expression shifted, going through an assortment of emotions as she read, turning from one page to the next. The rest of them stood by, silent, tense, and avoiding eye contact, waiting to hear what information the letter contained.

When Anna went back to the start of the letter, intending to read the entire thing again, Admiral Naismith cleared his throat. "Your Highness?"

Her face went stormy as she stood, slamming the paper down on the table. The dragon raised its head and offered a bored look before returning to its nap. "Of all the stupid, selfish, irresponsible things—" Anna stomped away from the table, then turned on her heel and glared down at the letter.

Kristoff's eyes went wide as he followed her gaze back to the damp, curled pages, wondering what could be in the letter that would entice such a reaction from someone who had been dying to hear from her sister.

Both Jogeir and Naismith looked just as confused. Jogeir stepped toward Anna. "Your Highness? Is everything okay?"

Anna frowned but said nothing. Instead, she gestured to the letter, giving them unspoken permission to read it. Kristoff took a step, but Jogeir was closer. The captain picked the letter up and read its contents aloud.

My dearest sister,

I pray that as you read this, you are no longer in Sirma hands, that our Army was successful in their rescue.

I know you are scared and worried about me, let me first assure you I am okay. I promise. You may already know the Vindarr ambushed us. They took Tyr and I prisoner. Tyr is currently sitting in their dungeon; I know nothing more than that, nor do I care to.

The Vindarr's leader, Markkus, has been kind to me thus far. For the moment, I am neither a guest nor prisoner, but something in between. I know that's not very clear, so let me elaborate. They have given me a room, with all the amenities I would have at home, but I may not leave the room unescorted.

Sort of like the last thirteen years of my life minus the escort, but I digress.

Kristoff frowned. He didn't need to know the Queen very well to grasp the frustration in her words.

Markkus has assured me they do not want to use my powers to fight for them in any capacity, but at the same time, they don't want the Sirma to use them either. And has insisted I remain under their protection until the war between their two people has ended. At such a time, they will release me, and allow me to return home.

I do not trust Markkus but find myself believing his words. He has given me no reason to do otherwise. I also feel at this current time I have no other choice than to do so. I don't know where I am, other than an island called Hasvik. The only glimpse of the outside I have been able to see offer nothing other than a view of the ocean and a horizon that appears perpetually blanketed in fog. My magic is still bound behind the cuffs, for reasons I will not go into here, but I am otherwise okay.

Anna, I have to ask something of you. It may be one of the hardest things you will ever have to do. Believe me when I say I understand what it is I am asking, but duty forces me to ask it, nevertheless.

You must return to Arendelle.

I don't know what the date is, only that the trip to Valle was to be no more than five days and we have been gone for far longer. I'm sure the council has created a story to account for our extended absence, but the country has been without leadership for too long already, I need you to go back and reassure the people that nothing is amiss so they don't panic. Or worse, so that word does not reach other kingdoms that may be inclined to act upon a country in a vulnerable position.

I need you to ensure the food from Valle has made it to Arendelle. It will need to be stored, then distributed to select people. There is a list in the top drawer of my private study that outlines who is to receive what, and how much.

The council will also need an update on the current situation. I have enclosed with this letter what you should tell them, and how to address concerns I anticipate they may bring up.

Hold court, Anna, let the people know that everything is okay. If they ask about my absence, do not lie nor deviate from what the council has told them. It will be a fine line to walk, but it's important to assure them everything is okay, and that I will relay the details of events upon my return. The people may not be happy with such a response, especially considering past events, but it should be enough to keep them from panicking, which is key in keeping the kingdom running until my return.

Markkus assures me that once they deal with the Sirma, they will release me. Without me fighting their war for them, he suspects it will not be much longer.

If I know my guard captain, he is no more than a few feet from you as you read this. Captain Jogeir is to escort you back to Arendelle to ensure your safe and timely arrival.

Snowbug, I know you're pissed at me right now, at what I am asking of you. I fear I could never do the same, turn away from you were our situations reversed, but you have always been stronger than I. I need that strength now. Do not let our kingdom suffer for the poor choices we have made that led us here. I beg you to do this for me as your sister, as your friend, and as your Queen.

All my love,

Elsa

"Well," The Captain breathed as he passed the pages back to Anna. "At least we know it's definitely from the Queen."

"Yeah," Anna huffed, throwing her arms into the air and the pages slipping from her grasp, floating to the ground. "Because only Elsa could be held prisoner by some potentially violent, ruthless warlord, doing god only knows what to her, and still be trying to work."

Kristoff had to duck his head to hide his smile as he crouched to gather the pages, knowing Anna would not take it well. "She does say she's okay," he said, holding out the letter.

Anna only glared in return. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and blew out a long, frustrated breath.

"Did you say Markkus?" Erik spoke up from the other side of the tent. He'd been so quiet Kristoff had forgotten he was there with them.

"You know him?" Naismith asked.

Erik nodded. He shifted his shoulders, his eyes dark. "He's the leader of the Vindarr. I've never met him personally, but I have heard he can be dangerous. I know Tyr didn't care for him—"

"Tyr also kidnapped myself and my sister," Anna interrupted, "then let your soldiers believe she stole her magic from the spirits like the Vindarr so they'd be less inclined to help her. Therefore, you'll have to forgive me if I don't hold your brother's opinion in any type of regard."

Kristoff jerked his head back; having never heard such venom in Anna's voice.

Erik cleared his throat. "I understand, but Tyr had been working on a treaty with the Vindarr sometime ago. When he returned home, he said Markkus was underhanded, cruel, and untrustworthy. Tyr stated that the man betrayed us. A few days later, someone killed our father, and the Landvættir's magic vanished."

Jogeir frowned. "You think this Markkus character had something to do with that?" he asked.

Erik shrugged. "Wouldn't you? The Vindarr launched their first attack only days later."

Anna frowned and walked over to Kristoff, taking the letter back and looking it over with a narrowed gaze. "Maybe, but Elsa says she believes him. She's not the type to just believe someone for no reason."

"She also says she doesn't trust him," Erik countered.

Anna wrinkled her nose. "As much as it pains me to say it, Elsa is also a politician, and a very skilled one at that. Trust is not something she gives freely, or often." She chewed her lip. "Still, something feels off."

"You think the Vindarr forced her to write the letter?" Kristoff asked.

"No," Anna said, shaking her head. "If that was the case, she wouldn't have asked me to return to Arendelle. The words are hers and hers alone, that I'm sure of. But it feels too . . . compliant." She sighed. "God knows I love my sister more than anything in the world, but the woman does not take orders well. From anyone. And maybe it's nothing. Maybe after everything the Sirma—" she glared in Erik's direction, "—did to her, she's just tired of fighting." She shrugged, looking more than a little tired herself.

Kristoff cocked his head, wanting to wrap her in a hug, but this had quickly turned into a meeting that went way over his head, and he knew the best thing was to stand back and allow Anna to decide what they should do next.

"What are your orders, ma'am?" Admiral Naismith asked, as though he were reading Kristoff's mind.

Anna folded her arms across her chest, face twisting. "A messenger was already dispatched to Arendelle," she said with some hesitation, after a long moment of silence, "to send the ships on standby north. Elsa didn't say not to rescue her, so I think we should continue trying to locate the Vindarr fortress. Hasvik, I think she called it."

"And Your Highness?" Jogeir asked.

Anna sighed, her gaze skipping past Kristoff's face as she looked to the captain with resignation written plainly across her face. "I guess we're going home."


Elsa sat on the floor at the foot of her bed, arms wrapped around her legs as she watched the fire crackling in the hearth, sending out a warm glow across the otherwise dark room. The tightness in her chest had eased a bit as she watched her ice dragon carry her letter away. She knew what she was asking of her sister was unfair. There was no doubt in her mind, not even for a second, that if their roles were reversed, she could never walk away, no matter the circumstance.

Her fingers twisted in the cloth of her leggings. She hoped her sister was safe, out of danger. Elsa took a breath and reminded herself—not for the first time, nor for the last—that Tyr was here in Hasvik, in Markkus's dungeon. He couldn't hurt Anna, and while Erik had been complicit in Tyr's actions, it was a far cry from participation. Alarik was also there at the Sirma camp, so even if something delayed the army, he would protect Anna. She knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her sister.

Elsa untangled her fingers from her clothing, but kept her arms wrapped around her legs. Her thoughts drifted away from Anna's current situation, to Markkus's offer. A thrill raced up her spine and settled in her chest, causing her breath to catch. She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around what he was offering, around the possibility that the one thing she had wanted most of her life might actually be within her grasp.

She stared into the fire and mentally turned over the offer, examining it from every side, looking for the catch, for what Markkus might get out of such an arrangement. So far, she had come up with nothing other than she'd be in his debt. Already, there were two problems with that. First, that he was unaware of the enormity of what he was offering her, what it meant to her, and second, that holding someone in your debt was an exercise in faith. If he one day came to cash in on the debt, there was nothing binding Elsa to help him. Which led her back to the question—what was he getting out of this?

She thought once more about Tyr's warning, that Markkus could do much worse than anything he himself had done. She rubbed her neck, doubting the legitimacy of his words. There was no reason for Elsa to believe anything Tyr said.

No matter how many times she turned it over in her mind, she could find no pitfalls in allowing Markkus to train her. If Elsa could learn to separate her emotions from her magic, then she could give Anna what she'd wanted for a long time, what they both wanted. She could have conversations with her sister and express her emotions without trying to conceal them or having to worry about starting a potentially apocalyptic snowstorm.

Well, she mused, it won't be a cure by any stretch of the imagination, but it would be one less barrier standing between them, and that was worth more than any risk.

Elsa tipped her head back against the bed's footboard, her eyes drifting shut. As some of the tension that had built up within her body seeped away, a warmth spread through her limbs. She sat there in the stillness, allowing herself to hold on to the calm moment. She was just contemplating moving from the floor to the bed and trying her hand at sleep when the door burst open.

Elsa startled at the sudden intrusion, a ring of thin frost pooling on the floor around her as two guards came into her room. She had barely made it to her feet by the time they crossed to her, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her toward the open door.

"Hey!" She tried to wrench her arms from their bruising grip, planting her feet against the floor, but they jerked her forward, and she stumbled into the hallway. The guards pulled her in the opposite direction that she knew Markkus's office was, and her heart pounded against her chest as she struggled to keep up with their long strides. "Where are you taking me?"

One guard gave her a sidelong glance, but no answer. Elsa's mind raced to catch up with what was happening. Since her arrival in Hasvik, the guards had kept a respectful distance, never so much as laying a hand on her when escorting her around the fortress. Something had changed, but she didn't know if it had to do with Markkus, the training she agreed to, or something else entirely.

Markkus had mentioned her first night that she was responsible for the Sirma's recent victories, and indirectly responsible for a lot of Vindarr deaths. A chill rushed through her as she remembered his warning, the possibility of someone attempting retaliation against her. Had someone spotted her ice dragon and found out she was here?

Her heart hammered against her chest. The guards took her down a staircase, turning into a dark hallway before stopping in front of a small doorless room, barely wide enough to fit a large man, and pitch-black, devoid of any windows or light source.

Another man approached them from the opposite direction from which they'd come. He appeared well-dressed, with greying hair and a long scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his jawline.

A soldier, Elsa thought. She drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin, trying to hide the sudden rolling sensation in her stomach. "What is the meaning of this?"

The soldier stopped directly in front of her and reached out, grabbing her left wrist, turning it with a painful twist. He pulled a familiar-looking pendant from his pocket and placed it into the indentation on her cuff. When he twisted the pendant, the stone imbedded there dimmed. Wordlessly, he repeated the process with the other cuff. Throughout the entire process, the guards never released her arms.

Elsa looked blankly from the deactivated cuffs to the man standing before her.

The soldier stepped back, clearing the doorway, and shoved the pendant back into his pocket. "Good luck."

"I don't—"

The guards tightening their grip on her arms was all the warning she got before they shoved her into the tiny room. She caught herself against the back wall, twisting around just in time to see a yellowish glow from around the soldier's neck. A wall of stone slammed across the doorway, plunging the room into absolute darkness.

Elsa's eyes widened, she surged forward, slamming her fists against the thick stone. Ice exploded and cracked across the wall with each impact. Her mind froze as she struggled to breathe through the smothering tightness in her chest, the wave of heat washing over her.

This was a test; it had to be. There was no way they were going to leave her entombed in this tiny space. If they wanted her dead, there were far better ways to do it and they wouldn't have allowed her the use of her magic. This had to be a part of Markkus's training. All she had to do was figure out the answer. She could do that; she was good at tests.

Elsa's fingers scraped against the rough stone as she searched out any kind of seam, or crack in the wall, anything she could use as a way out. When she found nothing, she yelled, slamming her hands against the wall. Her forehead fell forward, striking the stone with a hollow thud. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling lightheaded and flushed, she forced herself to take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it back out.

After thirteen years of seclusion, one would think she'd grown used to enclosed spaces, but it was the exact opposite. It was why, no matter what room she was in back home, there was almost always a window open. Elsa hated the feeling of being trapped or enclosed in a single space. She couldn't breathe.

She curled her fingers into a tight fist, rolling her head against the rock. "You're fine," she told herself. "There's enough air. You can do this."

She took another breath, attempting to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. All she had to do was break out of one room. She had created an ice palace on a whim, with little effort; she could free herself from a tiny room. Elsa took a step back, pressing against the wall behind her, and held out her hands. She concentrated on her magic and directed a blast of ice against the wall. An icy blue light overtook the small, dark space as her magic exploded against the stone.

The ice and light quickly melted away, plunging the room once more into darkness. Elsa ran her hand over the spot on the wall and found a chunk of stone had broken away. She prepared to blast it a second time, but the stone moved under her hand, repairing itself.

Elsa set her jaw and pulled her shoulders back. She tried once more, pouring even more power into the blast. As before, the wall mended itself. Another wave of heat washed over her, stronger than the first. Every breath was a struggle as she tried to break the wall a third time, then a fourth to the same result.

Her heart raced, thudded against her ribs, she sagged back against the wall, arms hanging limp at her sides and blood pounding loud in her ears. Elsa closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall. Frost crept across the stone, traveling only a few inches before melting away.

Her eyes snapped open as she realized the heat she was feeling wasn't from exertion; it was the room. It had grown significantly hotter, unbearably so. Elsa pressed a hand to the back of her neck and released a flood of refreshing ice to cool herself off. It worked for a moment, but then the temperature increase, the stone around her becoming uncomfortably hot.

Elsa pulled up the sleeves of her tunic, trying desperately to cool off. She held her hands out to her sides and sent a powerful blast of ice around the room, coating every surface. The room became blissfully cool for a moment before the ice melted, turning the air both hot and humid.

She slumped against the burning wall, sliding to the ground as a profound wave of dizziness crashed into her. Elsa pressed a trembling hand against her forehead and curled in on herself, struggling to breathe through the thick, suffocating air. Her heart continued to race, pounding in her ears, as she tried to figure out what she needed to accomplish here, what Markkus wanted her to learn.

Ice continued to snap and melt, responding to her raising desperation. Heart thundering, lungs thick and useless, the darkness threatened to overtake her completely.