AN: Thank you for the reviews and don't forget to tip your personal snowball on the way out.
She woke to warmth on her face, sunlight streaming in through the window. Elsa reflexively lifted a hand to shield her eyes, only to stop mid-action, surprised her head wasn't pounding. She pressed her head back against the pillow and breathed out deeply. She felt. . . better. Tired, despite the fact she'd just woken from a deep, dreamless sleep. She felt sore, a full body, coming out of the other end of a vicious illness sort of ache. But better and ready for a strong cup of coffee.
Elsa scrunched up her face as her thoughts drifted to what she assumed was the previous day, though she was unsure how long she'd been asleep. The day was a blur, her conversation with Markkus hazy at best, but there were a few things she remembered with painful clarity. The most surprising was that she trusted him. She couldn't help it; there was something about the man that seemed to draw her in. Like standing in front of a darkened cave with the promise of treasure buried just out of sight, a tantalizing voice whispering, "come closer. Whatever you seek, you shall find it here."
Unexpectedly, she found herself wanting to know, needing to know what lay just out of sight, what answers she might discover if she just went a little deeper. Elsa felt like she was standing on the precipice of something important. There was a choice looming before her; she could turn away and return to how things were, or she could take a step, let herself fall, and discover what secrets were waiting.
She wanted to take that dive, but something was holding her back. Her sister, and her duty to the people of Arendelle. Elsa needed to know they were okay; she had still received no return word from her sister. There were any number of reasons why Anna might have chosen not to write back; it was possible her sister was angry with her for asking her to return home, or that Anna hadn't been able to write back, or maybe she simply had nothing to say and chose not to respond. Elsa hadn't requested a reply in her letter, though she wished now that she had, even a single sentence to confirm Anna was okay.
A knock on the door pulled Elsa from her thoughts. She turned toward the noise in time to see Ray poking her head in and smiled at the younger girl as she opened the door further, letting herself in. Elsa pressed her hands against the mattress and shifted further up in bed, sore muscles giving a muted cry of protest, causing her to wince.
"Good morning." She settled back against the headboard as Ray made her way over to the bed with a silver tray in her hands.
"Morning." Ray stopped next to the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I know you don't normally eat breakfast, but I figured since you haven't eaten, like, anything in the past two days you might be a bit hungry." The girl hopped up onto her normal spot near the foot of the bed and leaned against the bedpost.
Elsa looked over the tray, the plate of offered food, and found herself surprisingly famished; her stomach made a loud rumble in anticipation that caused her to blush in embarrassment. "I guess I am," she said. "Thank you." She reached for the plate but hesitated when she noticed the other items on the tray, a mug of coffee and a small glass with a foggy white liquid swirling inside. She picked up the glass and studied its contents. She knew it was the medicine they'd been giving her since arriving at the fortress.
She remembered after her conversation with Markkus, she willingly drank the contents of the vial he offered her. Ray had then helped her back into bed, while Markkus promised they would speak again as soon as she was feeling better. Elsa remembered how she had spent the next hour tossing and turning in bed, still feeling uncomfortable in her own skin. After some time, her chest loosened, finally allowing her to breathe, and she felt cooler, eventually slipping into a deep sleep.
Elsa took a deep breath, then down the medicine in one go. She noted a strong nutty taste to the liquid, which explained the odd flavor she'd noticed in her morning coffee. She set the glass aside and reached once more for the plate of food, digging in with as much restraint and grace as her growling stomach could handle. She was roughly halfway through the plate when she realized that Ray, who was usually very chatty in the morning, was quietly watching her with an expression of childlike curiosity. It was an expression she'd seen on Anna's face enough times to cause a pang of longing for her little sister.
Elsa swallowed a mouthful of food and rested the plate on her lap. "Ray, is something wrong?" She wrapped her hand around her coffee cup, taking a deep drink.
Ray tilted her head, then leaned in. "Are you really a Queen?"
Elsa choked on her coffee, hastily setting the cup aside, pressing a hand against her chest. She coughed, trying to clear the liquid from her lungs, and managed a rough "what?" as she continued to clear her throat.
Ray shifted on the bed, picking at an invisible thread on her dress. "I heard you tell Markkus that you were a Queen. That you gave up your freedom for your people."
Elsa blinked rapidly, looking inward as her mind raced over the broken, fuzzy pieces of that conversation. Her mind halted as she found the fragment she was looking for; her stomach twisted painfully as she remembered telling Markkus she was a Queen without realizing it. The words had flowed out unnoticed with ease. Maybe it was for the better; hiding the information no longer served any real purpose.
She sighed and set the plate back on the tray, no longer feeling quite as hungry. She took a deep breath, then released it. "I am. My name isn't Joan, it's Elsa. I am the Queen of Arendelle, a kingdom a few days south of here."
"Why did you pretend to be someone else?" Ray asked. Her tone was neutral, like the deception didn't upset her as much as made her curious.
"I woke up finding myself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people I didn't know. I had just spent the better part of two weeks in the hands of violent strangers, using my people and my family to force me to fight their war. I was scared," Elsa told her truthfully. "I was scared that if Markkus or anyone here knew who I was, they would try to exploit it."
Ray nodded, her lips twisting as she took in the information. "Markkus would never do that, you can trust him."
"I hope so." Elsa mumbled, staring down at her hands, one way or another, she would soon find out. She only hoped Ray was correct.
"I've never met a Queen before," she said in a lighter tone. "I wish I were a Queen. Getting to do whatever you want, whenever you want."
Elsa couldn't help but laugh at the innocence in the girl's statement. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as all that."
"Why not?"
"The things I do, the decisions I make, they affect everyone in the kingdom. It's a lot of work and an enormous responsibility." Elsa's smile slipped as she thought about her childhood. The expectations, rules, and etiquette that dictated her every move. "You'd be surprised just how little control you have over your own life."
Alarik rubbed his hands together, trying to force some warmth back into his numb fingers as he stood alongside Admiral Naismith on a thin strip of beach surrounded by rocky outcroppings. They waited in tense silence, looking out over the water at the three ships anchored in the fjord and the smaller rowboat making its way toward the rocky beach.
The boat slid up against the shore, and within moments the passengers inside began disembarking. Alarik recognized several; three of them were captains, likely each in command of one of the ships anchored in the distance. Another two men and one woman, the ranks on their lapels indicating they were the first mates. The last man to step ashore was older, wearing civilian clothing and looking out of place among the military uniforms surrounding him. While Alarik didn't know who he could be, the Admiral appeared to recognize him immediately, his face breaking into a smile as he approached.
Naismith grasped the other man's forearm and slapped a hand against his shoulder. "Malthe, I never expected to see you out here in the field again."
Malthe smiled tightly. "Mikael, I have to say I never expected to be. But then, a lot of things have happened over the last month I never thought I'd hear." The man took a steadying breath. "Have you had any word from the Queen? Or the people holding her?"
Naismith shook his head. He gestured inland, leading the way back to the encampment. "No, not since the letter she sent her sister. The only thing we know is she doesn't believe she's in any immediate danger. But that was well over a week ago and the Princess felt there was something off with the letter, that the Queen's words felt too compliant."
"Hmm." Malthe shook his head. "Well, if anyone is familiar with the Queen's particular brand of stubbornness, it'd be her sister. After the Queen's collapse in the council chambers, I was sure the Princess was going to have to tie the woman to her bed to ensure she got proper rest."
"Don't remind me." The Admiral rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I'm pretty sure I lost ten years off my life when I saw her go down in that meeting." A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he added, "she gets it from her father, you know."
"Not sure I recall the King ever being quite so stubborn."
Naismith chuckled, "that's because Queen Iduna would never let him get away with it."
Alarik took up the rear of the party as they walked, listening to the two men speaking about the royal family with such familiarity he couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to work so closely with them. He felt he knew Anna like a distant friend, through her many visits to Valle, but he had never even seen the Queen before the events in the stable. Events that seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago. He'd only seen glimpses of what she was like, snapshots that took place over the course of two endless days, but couldn't help but wonder what they were both like in their day-to-day lives. He hoped he'd get the chance to find out.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, old friend." The Admiral's voice brought Alarik back to the present. "But why are you here?"
Malthe was quiet for a long moment, before finally answering, "I was there when the Queen was brought into this world. I have spent the last twenty-one years caring for her. I'm hoping my trip turns into nothing more than an old man being overly cautious, but if there is a chance . . . the report I heard wasn't promising. If there is to be a battle, then this is where I will be needed most."
Naismith pressed his lips into a thin line and dipped his head in a sharp nod. "Let us hope it doesn't come to that."
"And I couldn't pass up the chance to see the northern fjords," Malthe added, breaking the tension and eliciting a chuckle from his friend. "I hear they're breathtaking this time of year."
Elsa hesitated outside the closed door; she drew a steadying breath and smoothed the front of her dark-blue tunic. A few moments ago she felt prepared for this meal, this meeting, but now that she was here, she found herself reluctant to enter the room. She felt foolish over the way she had acted the day before. She had been distraught, anxious and feverish. Confused. She had jumped to conclusions, assuming the worst with no evidence. She knew how she must have sounded, how she had presented herself to the man who had been nothing but respectful and kind to her. Accusing him of deceiving her.
She knew there was a lot they had to discuss, but before anything, she owed Markkus an apology. Elsa lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she raised a hand to knock on the door. It opened immediately, and Markkus stepped to the side as he gestured for her to enter.
Elsa resisted the urge to wring her hands as she crossed the threshold. The two guards who had accompanied her took up posts outside the room, and Markkus closed the door firmly behind her.
"I hope you're feeling better," he said as he walked to the table positioned in front of the fireplace, the same table where they had shared a meal when they first met.
"I am, thank you." Elsa took a deep breath, lifting her gaze to meet Markkus's as she plunged right in. "I'm sorry for the way I acted, and for assuming the worst when you have been nothing but kind."
Markkus turned back, his brows drawn together. "There's no need to apologize," he said. "If I found out someone had been putting something in my drink without telling me, I have no doubt I would have reacted much the same." A relaxed smile crossed his face; he gestured for her to take a seat at the table. "In fact, I'm the one who should apologize to you. I should have never kept that information from you."
Elsa sat opposite Markkus, her gaze gliding over the array of food set out on the table. It was a much smaller affair than her first visit, but by no means a meager offering.
"Although," Markkus continued as he took his own seat. "I suppose I wasn't the only one withholding information."
It took a moment for his meaning to settle, and then Elsa's cheeks burned hotly as she remembered what she had so easily let slip the day prior. She dropped her gaze to her hands, unsure of what to say. She knew that by withholding the information, she had potentially put Markkus and his people at risk. "No," she said after a long beat of silence. "I suppose not."
"So, if you're not Joan of an unimportant village. . ."
She took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she answered. "My name is Elsa, I am the Queen of Arendelle. The kingdom south of here."
Markkus leaned back in his chair, and Elsa fought the urge to fidget under his curious gaze. She felt like she was being weighed and judged, like he was trying to decide if she was still worth the trouble of everything they had discussed to this point.
After another moment of thick silence, he dipped his chin. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Elsa."
Elsa's lips twisted into a frown. "You're not angry?"
Markkus chuckled. "It's not something I was expecting to hear, but it's not the most surprising news I've had. And it explains a lot."
"It does?"
He nodded, reaching forward to fill his plate from the dishes at the center of the table. "You don't exactly make a believable commoner."
Elsa opened her mouth, then shut it, tilting her head as she considered his words. "I'm not sure how to take that."
"It's not an insult, Your Majesty." Markkus smiled. "The way you talk and hold yourself, you displayed a calm grace despite your circumstances. Originally, I thought it came from what you have endured because of your powers. But there was also a quiet, commanding grace I saw in you from the moment we met. That was the real giveaway."
Elsa's brow furrowed tightly. "Did you know?"
"That you were a Queen?" He shook his head. "No. That you weren't a commoner, yes."
Elsa reached forward and wrapped her fingers around the cup of water next to her plate. She supposed there were some things that were so ingrained into her; they were impossible to hide. Carrying herself with the grace and composure expected of a monarch had been one of those things. She took a sip of her water, then set the glass back down. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."
Markkus rested his forearms of the edge of the table and peered at her thoughtfully. "Why did you hide it? Others would have used their position to gain their freedom through threat or bribery. Instead, you chose not to use it to your advantage, pretending to be no one of any importance."
"I wanted to protect my people. I didn't know you, your intentions, or what you were willing to do to get what you wanted. I won't allow my people to suffer in a power struggle over my magic." She squared her shoulders. "I am sorry for any risk my deception may have caused your people, but I'm not sorry for trying to protect mine."
Markkus rubbed a finger across his chin. "Speaking of your people, I have some good news for you."
Elsa's chest loosened a bit, relieved that he was moving the conversation onward to a new topic. Belatedly, she perked up as she realized what he had said. "Good news?"
He nodded. "It would seem your army has taken the Sirma's encampment and has brought the fighting to a stop."
"What?" Elsa's heart jumped.
"What's more, the Sirma leader's younger brother is willing to negotiate peace." Markkus took a deep drink from his mug. "It's why I could not come to you the other day when you asked for me. I was meeting with the council as we tried to decide how to proceed."
She nodded her head mutely, her mind racing through the implications of what this meant. The first and most important thing was, if Arendelle held the camp, Anna was safe. Elsa had told Alarik to make sure they took as many of the Sirma alive and uninjured as possible, but she knew her men. She understood the depths of their loyalty, especially when it came to her little sister. If something had happened to Anna before or during the fighting, it was doubtful they would merely hold the camp.
Elsa felt the tension slide out of her shoulders. She was still worried, wanting some sort of confirmation from her sister, but at least now she could be sure the younger girl was alright. And if the Vindarr and Sirma were no longer fighting . . . she looked up across the table to Markkus with wide, hopeful eyes.
"There is still some debate on how we should move forward. As a ruler, I'm sure you can see the problem we are facing."
Elsa paused to consider the situation, and it took her longer than she liked to find the problem. "Tyr," she said finally. "He's the leader of the Sirma. If Erik signs a treaty and you let Tyr go, he may not uphold the treaty, claiming Erik didn't have the authority to agree to it in the first place."
"Putting us back at square one," Markkus said with a tight nod. "We have no desire to keep the man in our dungeons for the rest of his life, but given his. . . personality, it is unlikely he'd agree to a peace."
"No," Elsa confirmed. "He was willing to start a war with a stronger army. It's doubtful he'd just give up now." She tapped a finger against her leg. "You'd need the Sirma as a whole to accept Erik's authority over Tyr's."
"Wherein lies our first obstacle, but that is not a problem for you to worry about." Markkus offered her a smile. "Once we get this mess figured out, you will be free to return home."
Elsa's gaze snapped up to meet his, then slipped back down to the table. Her vision blurred. Home. Her stomach twisted, and she was surprised to feel conflicted over the thought of returning to Arendelle.
"Until then, if you would like, we can discuss moving forward with your training."
Elsa shoved the confusing feelings aside, knowing they were something she could sort out later. She returned her focus to the man sitting across from her and slowly nodded. "I would like that."
"Good," Markkus said. "I have some ideas on the next step, but first, I need to know more about your magic."
