AN: Words are hard. *insert something intelligent here* Thank you for your reviews and encouraging words. Don't forget to tip your tiny ice kitty on your way out.
Elsa let her head fall back against the headboard of her bed. Ray had left a short time ago, wanting to give her some time to rest, knowing she only had a few hours to do so. Markkus had warned Elsa that this would be challenging, she had thought she was prepared for what that meant. She'd faced many challenges throughout her life; there was a lot people expected out of her, and she worked hard to meet those often-lofty expectations. But she realizing now that those had been intellectual challenges, things she could solve like a puzzle, thinking the issue through to a correct, logical solution. This—this room; it posed a physical obstacle and a mental one, and was quickly realizing she was far from prepared for it.
She was tired, frayed, and working on very little sleep. Each time the guards brought her back from the room, they allowed her a few hours of rest before they came for her once more. At this point, Elsa was fairly certain she had spent more time in the stone-walled claustrophobic room than she had in this one.
She knew she should take this opportunity to get some sleep while she could, but her mind kept drifting back to what Ray had said, and her conversation with Markkus. Elsa had confided in him that her magic was intertwined with her emotions, and that whenever she was in a heightened emotional state, her magic would respond, that it was often hard to pull back under control. She had spent most of her life attempting to conceal her emotions, learning how to keep a tight lid on them so that her magic wouldn't spiral out of her control.
The Vindarr leader had shaken his head and told her that approach was likely the exact reason why she couldn't control her magic. Markkus stated that she didn't need to control her emotions any more than any normal person. What she needed to learn, to practice, was how to control her magic while in a heightened emotional state.
Elsa was always quick to pick up the nuances of an exchange, the things people said and how they said them. When Markkus told her he could help her, she had been so captivated by the idea of control that she somehow missed exactly what it was he was offering. She understood that he was offering the ability to control her magic while feeling emotions that would normally trigger them, but it had somehow escaped her that, in order to learn such a skill, she would have to be in a situation where she was in that heightened emotional state. Something the dark, airless room had done so almost instantly.
Her chest tightened just thinking about the tomblike space, knowing they were going to force her back in there, soon. Instead of getting easier, each session in the room proved harder than the one before, as her anxiety and panic gripped her mercilessly, before she even made it there. Once she was in the room, the cuffs deactivated, her magic responded to her frenzied mental state, snapping and cracking against the walls. And then, each time, the heat climbed at an alarming rate. But now that Elsa had stopped to think and consider what Ray told her, she realized that the heat only climbed after her magic slipped out of her control.
When growing up, they had taught her to control her magic through avoidance—avoid your emotions, avoid your magic showing. Conceal, don't feel. Avoidance was a challenge, yes, but far easier when the only people she had to interact with were tutors, her parents, and select castle staff. Even after her parents went missing and Elsa took over running the kingdom, she still only met with the council once a month, while they handled many of the day-to-day functions until she was old enough to assume her role as queen.
Now, she could no longer use these long-ingrained avoidance tactics as a way of controlling her magic. She couldn't have a proper relationship with her sister, or with her people, if she concealed and refused to feel anything. It had always been a short-term solution to what was ultimately a long-term problem. Her father had told her it was just until she learned to control her magic, but Elsa knew that, to him, control meant more than concealing her magic. It meant denying a part of who she was.
She couldn't control something she didn't understand, and she couldn't understand something if she continued to avoid it. She wasn't meant to break out of the tomblike room. That wasn't the goal. Currently, she couldn't go anywhere near the room without feeling like she was going to suffocate, without going into a state of panic. But the goal wasn't to not panic, it was to allow herself to feel that anxiety and panic, no matter how much she hated it, without letting her magic manifest. At least, that was her theory. If the heat in the room rose in response to her magic, then the room wouldn't get hot if she didn't use her magic.
The true test was to do nothing.
Elsa didn't know if she could do that, but she refused to quit just because it was hard. She could only fail if she stopped trying, and the prize was worth everything to her.
Anna stood outside the large oak doors that led to the council chambers and squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. It had been so long since she was last clean, she could smell the floral soap from her bath lingering on her skin. She was scrubbed, rested, and—she hoped—prepared for whatever awaited her on the other side of these doors. She glanced down at the papers clenched between her fingers: her sister's letter and, more importantly, the notes Elsa had made for her. Questions and concerns the council may bring up, and how she should answer them. She sent a silent thank you to her sister and her incredible foresight, taking comfort knowing that even though they were separated, Elsa was still looking out for her, that she was always looking out for her.
This wasn't the first time Anna had stepped in to take over some of the queen's duties. She'd done so a few months prior, when Elsa was on strict bedrest for a week following a severe concussion, though it had taken some emotional blackmail to convince her to rest. But even then, her sister had still been there, guiding Anna through everything they expected her to do or say, telling her how to respond to different requests. If something came up that Elsa hadn't prepared her for, she was still not that far away, ready with an answer to any issue.
This was the first time Anna would address the council with nothing more than her sister's notes to guide her. It was nerve-wracking. She knew the opinions of the councilors didn't really matter, but she couldn't help thinking what they must think of her, especially compared to the graceful poise her sister always displayed. She must come up so short when stacked next to Elsa.
Anna shook her head, banishing the unhelpful thoughts from her head. She lifted her chin, trying to channel as much of her sister's poise and commanding presence as she could, and then she pushed open the council chamber doors.
The council members stood as she entered. Five out of six were present, with only Admiral Mikael Naismith missing, waiting up north for Arendelle's ships to arrive.
Anna crossed the room, hesitating for a moment as she looked at the chair positioned at the head of the table. Elsa's chair. She took a steadying breath, ignoring the feeling of wrongness that echoed through her chest as she sat, the council members following suit.
She arranged her papers on the tabletop before offering them a tight smile. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
Bishop Toft spoke up first. "If I may, Your Highness. I think I speak for all of us when I say we are very relieved to have you back home, safe and unharmed," he said with a soft smile.
"Thank you," Anna said. She didn't know what else to say, knowing that what she went through didn't compare to what Elsa endured, or what she was still going through. She bit her bottom lip, dropping her gaze to her notes.
"Your Highness, forgive my impertinence."
Anna looked up at the man who had spoken, but it took her a moment to recall the man's name. He was Bjarke Ericson, advisor for Arendelle's trades and guilds. "Yes?"
"I assume there is a reason we are having this meeting with you, and not Her Majesty?"
Anna shifted the papers in front of her, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut. She knew she had to put on a strong front, no matter what she felt. "Unfortunately, there's been a complication."
"Hm," Judge Westberg grunted. He was in his later years, with greying hair and a presence that commanded the respect of whatever room he was in. "Unfortunately, Captain Alarik and Captain Jogeir could only give us a very brief, and rather hurried, report of what transpired on your trip to Valle. Perhaps you would be willing to give us a more detailed account of what happened then, and the complications that emerged."
Anna couldn't recall ever talking to the man before now, but knew he'd had a close relationship with their father. "Of course," she said, nodding. She looked down at her notes, at Elsa's elegant scrawl.
Be brief, tell them only what they absolutely need to know.
Anna considered her sister's words, knowing what she was trying to do. But Elsa couldn't always protect her, and certainly not from her own mistakes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "While we were in Valle, a man approached me. His name was Erik."
Elsa wrapped her hands around herself, fingers twisting in the fabric of her tunic as her chest tightened. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. A fresh wave of dizziness fell over her, and the buzzing in her head drowned out her thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the small dark space. Ice continued to seep, crackling as it crawled across the walls, as the temperature of the room steadily rose.
She understood what she needed to do, but understanding was a far cry from knowing how to do it. The only way she had ever controlled her magic in the past was by controlling her emotions, but right now she didn't know how to separate the two and wasn't even sure she could. She hadn't been able to before; why would now be any different? If she had some clue or hint about where to start, something she could use as a building block, something more than sink or swim. Because she was sinking fast.
She sagged against the warm wall, sliding all the way to the floor and pulling her knees close to her chest. She needed to calm down enough to think clearly. She needed to breathe. That was the first step; she just needed to breathe.
Elsa bit her lip and dragged a long breath in through her nose. She held it, counting to five, and then blew it out through her mouth. She repeated the process until she could feel the lightheadedness beginning to ease. Thinking clearer now, she remembered there had been times she connected with her magic in a way that was . . . different from the normal connection she usually felt. Often when she used her magic, it felt like a tool she was wielding, like a pen. When it manifested on its own, it felt different, like trying to hold back an ocean tide. But there had been a few times, like when she built Olaf or her ice palace, or when she used her magic at Sioaskard to find the hidden tunnel, that her magic felt different, natural. Like it was an extension of herself. Perhaps if she could connect to her magic like that here, then she could figure out a way to stop her magic from leaking out.
Anna folded her hands in her lap, resisting the urge to fidget under the heavy silence dominating the council chambers. She wanted to appear strong, but she also didn't want to see the looks of judgement on the faces of the council members, so she kept her eyes on her sister's letters, trying to draw strength from the familiar handwriting.
"So, everything that has transpired," Bjarke Ericson said, breaking the silence, "is largely a product of the Queen's magic?"
Anna narrowed her eyes, the man's sharp tone making her feel uneasy. "I wouldn't say it's a product of her magic."
"But the Sirma would have had no reason to go after the Queen if she didn't have magic?" Bjarke shook his head, turning toward the rest of the council members. "I told you three months ago, when the Queen first revealed her powers, that no good was going to come of it."
Anna recoiled, her mouth falling open. "This isn't her fault," she said. Surely the man couldn't be blaming Elsa for what was happening. "She was born with magic. It's not like she asked for any of this."
"Maybe not, but it was inevitable that this would happen."
"Bjarke, whatever it is you are trying to say, just come out and say it." Judge Westberg leaned forward over the table with his hands clasped in front of him.
"I'm saying," he bit out, irritated that he was having to explain himself, "that it's only been three months since she exposed her magic, and already there are others trying to use that magic to their advantage. If she returns and resumes her duty, what's to keep another country from doing the same? What's to keep them from dragging all of Arendelle into conflict over her magic?"
Anna's eyebrows shot up. "If she returns?"
The Bishop frowned and shook his head. "Surely, you aren't suggesting we leave the Queen in the hands of the Vindarr. I'm sure a smart man such as yourself understands how even the idea of such an act could be viewed." His tone was edged with a warning Anna was sure she had never heard come out of the kindly gentleman's mouth, even when she misbehaved during lessons as a girl.
"Of course, I'm not." Bjarke narrowed his gaze. "I'm merely saying we should consider and plan for all potential outcomes."
Anna couldn't believe what she was hearing, what the man was not so subtly suggesting. The tension in the room was palpable. It was clear the trades councilor was not a fan of Elsa, and even less so of her magic. Was her sister aware of this? If she was, why had man remained on as one of her councilors? If she wasn't aware, then Anna was going to be sure to inform her sister when she returned.
"Perhaps for the moment, our focus would be better served on what we need to do next." The judge turned to Anna. "Your Highness, you said that Admiral Naismith has remained up north? Do you know what his plan is once the ships arrive?"
Anna took a moment to gather herself, to steady her racing heart and bring her attention back to the reason she was here. "We need to locate Hasvik, the Vindarr island. According to Erik—"
"The Sirma responsible for starting all this?" Bjarke interrupted. "Why are we taking advice from our enemy?"
"We're not taking advice from him," Anna replied with forced calmness. "But he knows the area and the Vindarr far better than any of our people and has been willing to provide us with information."
"And we are just going to trust that he will be honest with us?"
"No," Anna said, shaking her head, wondering if the man was this confrontational when dealing with her sister. "Of course not. Admiral Naismith will verify the information he offers before we take action."
Westberg spoke up, interjecting before Bjarke could press further. "What information did Erik offer you?"
Anna nodded. "He told us that the island is a part of an archipelago, surrounded by a fog he believes is created by magic. Which will make it difficult for our people to navigate."
"More magic?" Bjarke spat, shaking his head with disgust.
Anna narrowed her gaze at the man and opened her mouth to say something in return.
Before she could, Gregar Alfson, the advisor on international affairs who had until now remained quiet, spoke up. "Does the Admiral have any idea on how to get through the magic fog once the ships make it north? Or how to extract the Queen once they do?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Not yet. It'll depend on what the scouts discover." Anna looked down at the papers in front of her. "She was able to send a message. She doesn't think she's in any immediate danger and the Vindarr leader claimed he would release her once the fighting with the Sirma has stopped."
"Once it's stopped? I thought you said—"
"It's stopped," she affirmed. "Our people hold the Sirma camp, Erik is in our custody, and the Sirma leader is in the Vindarr's dungeons. There is no one left to fight."
"Hmm." Gregar leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against the tabletop. "As he is the leader of his people, I feel it's safe to assume that he is well aware the Sirma are not attacking. If he knows the fighting has stopped and is still holding the Queen prisoner, it's doubtful that he has any plans on letting her go."
Anna looked down at the letters once more. That sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that something was going on with Elsa, was reappearing. She wanted to believe what her sister said, that Markkus was going to let her go, but instinct and logic continued to warn her otherwise. She sighed. "I don't think he is going to let her go, either. Elsa stated that she didn't trust him, but that she believed him when he said he would. But something about her letter is . . . off. The words are hers, and I don't think they were coerced. But they still feel off. I can't explain it."
Westberg nodded. "Then we work off the assumption, at least for now, that this man is going to continue to hold our Queen hostage with no option for negotiations." He took a deep breath. "This would be a lot easier had the Admiral returned with you to give a report himself for the military. But perhaps we can talk to Captain Jogeir. With three ships sailing north, and timely communication between here and the north camp not possible, I believe the only thing we can do on the military side is trust the Admiral to do what he does best, while we turn our focus on what we can do here in Arendelle for our people."
"I agree." Anna nodded, then took a deep breath of her own, unsure how they were going to receive her next statement. "As soon as I can make sure everything here is being taken care of, I plan on rejoining the Admiral."
Elsa sat on the floor, eyes closed, turning her focus inward, following the ice that always lined her veins until she found its source. It was like an artic ball of ice and snow swirling chaotically deep within her chest. Her eyebrows squished together as a purple-blue light erupted, piercing the space behind her closed eyelids.
She cracked her eyes open to see a large domed room that looked as if someone had carved it from ice. The ceiling reached to impossible heights and the walls stretched endlessly in either direction, creating a vast open space that glowed with deep purples and light blues dancing along the icy surface. It was a breathtaking sight, one that oddly felt like coming home.
Elsa unfolded her legs, pulling herself to her feet, attempting to memorize every detail. She took a step forward, when a sudden pressure in her chest stopped her, a painful shove that caused her to stumble backwards. A sharp ache bit into her and the room shifted violently before her eyes, snapping back to the dark stone room in the Vindarr fortress.
Elsa threw out a hand, catching herself against the wall as she pressed her other hand against her chest. She gasped for breath, her vision strobing dangerously as an odd, unnerving feeling overcame her. Like she had seen something she wasn't supposed to, something she wasn't ready for. Her magic tingled uncomfortably beneath her skin, swirling, begging for release to the point it was almost overwhelming. She wanted desperately to give in but knew if she did, the heat in the room would increase so swiftly she was sure to succumb to it and would once again find herself waking up, hot and exhausted, without having succeeded at the task. Elsa bit her lip, fighting against the pressure.
The door to the room suddenly opened, and she lifted a hand, blocking out the sudden brightness.
The room was quiet for a long moment, before Gregar broke the silence. "Do you think it's wise for you to return north at such a time?" he asked. "The people need you here, need the reassurance of a member of the royal family present. If something were to happen to the Queen, you are all Arendelle has left."
Anna bit her lip. She had known the council would bring this up, and it was one of the few things Elsa hadn't prepped her on. Likely because Elsa herself didn't want Anna to return north to the Sirma encampment; her lack of acknowledgement was as good as withholding permission. It was understandable; were their positions reversed, she wouldn't want Elsa to return either. Not that she would have much of a say in it. "I know you want me to stay here," she said finally. "I know the people would feel better by my presence here in the capitol. But I can't, and I won't, leave my sister there. I cannot remain safe and out of the way while Elsa is in the hands of a potentially dangerous man."
"But safe and out of the way is exactly where you need to be your highness," Bjarke said. "I understand you might feel guilty for the role you played in this, but it is your duty to serve your people over your own personal need for redemption."
"Personal need for—" Anna jerked her head back. "I don't think getting my sister, your Queen, back can be considered a personal need."
"Of course not," he conceded. "But there is no need for you to place yourself in harm's way when there are those far more capable at handling the situation. Your presence up north is not required, but it is needed here, reassuring the people and handling matters of state until the Queen is returned to us."
Anna pressed her lips into a thin line and squared her shoulders. She wanted to yell at the man, but held back, instead trying to take a more tactful, mature route. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "I hear what you're saying, and I understand your concerns. You are correct; I have a duty to the people, and I plan on fulfilling that duty while I am here. But I also have a duty to my sister, and the Queen, to ensure her a safe return home. So, I will stay in Arendelle only long enough to make certain the winter stores are properly distributed, and the people are okay. Then I will return to the northern camp to spearhead the rescue efforts."
Elsa wrung her hands tightly in front of her, pacing the length of the room while her heart continued to beat painfully within her chest. She'd been in the room two more times since her conversation with Ray and had been partially successful in not using her magic. It still leaked out, raising the temperature, but she had managed to control it enough that the heat didn't reach a point where she passed out. But now, she felt wound up and anxious from the room's confining space.
Then there was the . . . Elsa paused her pacing, screwing up her nose. She didn't know what it had been. A vision? A hallucination? It had felt so real. She could still feel the coolness of the ice under her feet, the chilly breeze swirling around the room, carrying with it the salty scent of ocean water. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. Painfully ripped away, leaving behind a feeling that she had lost something important to her, something she desperately needed.
She walked over to the window, watching the ocean churn beneath as she tried to organize her thoughts. Since this whole ordeal started, it felt like someone had turned everything upside down. The dreams of the pebbled beach had increased in frequency, had changed, and now this new vision, this frozen cavern. Despite being in the room twice more, she only experienced the vision once, so maybe it truly was just a hallucination brought on by the suffocating panic of the room. Maybe it was simply a fevered dream, resulting from an overabundance of stress with no proper time to reset.
Elsa nodded, pressing a hand to the cool glass of the window. That had to be what it was. There was no other explanation.
Somehow, her last two trips to the room had been both easier and harder than the times before it. She had managed to avoid passing out, avoided raising the temperature much higher than normal, but her magic still leaked out. It hadn't spiraled out of control, though, like it had before when she was in a panic. It was progress; slow, but it was still something, and it filled Elsa with a hope she hadn't felt in a long time, allowed the possibility that maybe this was something within her reach. Maybe this was something she could accomplish if she kept down this path.
Anna had always encouraged her to embrace her magic rather than just trying to keep it under control, and Elsa wondered what her sister would think if she knew she was finally taking steps to do just that. If she'd be proud.
With a sharp jolt, Elsa realized Anna had not yet written her back. An overwhelming need to make sure her sister was okay struck her. She suddenly worried that the army hadn't been able to rescue her, or that something may have happened during the rescue. The small dragon was meant to deliver her letter, then wait for her sister to write a reply, and return here.
She glared down at the cuffs around her wrists. If she could access her magic, she could connect with Rune or the little ice dragon and maybe get a sense from them of what was going on. She had never tried such a thing before but knew she could feel things through the ice and snow she created; logically, there was no reason she couldn't do the same through her creations.
She considered for a moment going to Markkus and explaining the situation, but that meant she would have to admit she had lied from the start, pretending to be someone she wasn't. It meant telling him about Anna and opening her little sister to the potential of being used against her, something Elsa was desperate to avoid. She didn't want to see her sister put in danger, but also couldn't help her if she didn't know what was happening.
She scrubbed her hands over her face with a frustrated groan. First things first—she needed to get her frayed and tattered mind under control so she could think straight.
A knock on the door caused her to jump. Ray poked her head in, offering Elsa a smile before she let herself in. "Morning," she said, a small tray balanced on one hand.
Elsa attempted to return the smile. "Morning."
Ray set the tray on the table in the room. "I heard that you did way better in the room these last two times."
"Only thanks to your help."
Ray lifted a shoulder. "I just pointed out what anyone not stressed and sleep-deprived would have realized."
Elsa let out an amused huff. "I don't suppose that means I'm done with that room?"
Ray placed a hand on her hip and pressed her lips together. "I don't know. Most of the trainees go through it a couple times, even after they figure it out. I'm not sure how different it'll be with you."
"I'm not sure that's comforting," Elsa replied honestly.
The girl winced. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault." Elsa fell silent, her mind twisting between various thoughts of her sister, the strange vision, the changes in the pebbled beach. She faintly remembered something about a blue light, but couldn't make any sense of it.
Ray picked up the coffee from the tray and offered it to her. Elsa gave her an appreciative smile, but her stomach was churning with worry and confusion, and eating or drinking anything was the last thing she wanted to do right now. "Thank you," she said, shaking her head. "But I think I'll pass on breakfast this morning."
"Are you okay? You didn't eat breakfast yesterday, either."
Elsa hadn't realized Ray paid that much attention to her habits. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm fine, just not hungry this morning. Or yesterday, I suppose." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I just have a lot on my mind."
Ray pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the coffee, looking like she was debating something.
Elsa tilted her head. "What is it?"
"You should at least drink the coffee," Ray said. "So you don't get sick."
Elsa chuckled softly, remembering one of their early conversations. "I'm not addicted to coffee," she assured the girl, "and missing it two days in a row will not make me sick. But I appreciate the concern."
"Not the . . ." Ray took a breath. "I know that. But the medicine, if you miss another dose you could get sick."
Elsa's heart slammed to a halt in her chest. She turned to face Ray fully, her eyebrows scrunching. "What medicine?"
Ray gestured to the coffee. "The medicine the apothecary puts in your coffee every morning."
