AN: Merry Christmas and happy holidays, thank you to everyone who gave a response about Frozen II, it's been a lot of help. I think I have a clearer picture of how I am going to approach some of it now.

Castling -Chess term; A move in which the king and a rook are moved at the same time. It moves the king from the center to a flank where it usually is safer, and it develops the rook.


My dearest, most favoritest sister,

I'm on my way back to Arendelle as per her Majesty's request, but you should know that I'm going to move something in your room when I get there. You should also know that being held captive and still trying to work is not a normal thing. You have a problem. Perhaps we should talk to Malthe about it.

And before you freak out, I'm okay. I promise. Admiral Naismith was successful in taking the Sirma encampment, and Erik is in our custody. You'll be relieved to know the fighting has stopped and Erik said he is willing to negotiate a permanent cease-fire with the Vindarr. Perhaps even peace.

So, if this Markkus is telling the truth, you should be allowed to leave soon, if not by the time you get this letter. I'm not comfortable with them keeping you there. Having your magic bound and not being allowed to leave you room still sounds an awful lot like being held prisoner. But if you believe he is telling the truth, then I trust you.

I will return home and make sure the food is distributed according to what I have no doubt are your painfully thorough notes, and the council will be updated as per the equally thorough notes you sent along with your letter. Seriously, you have a problem.

I'm afraid at this time, I cannot promise I won't have a moment of clumsiness and spill tea onto the very nice cushion of your chair.

All the action here appears to be winding down, and I know you said you are okay, but I am still worried about you. It feels like we've barely had any time together, and now this. It's not right, and I desperately wish you were here with me. Captain Jogeir is preparing everyone to leave tomorrow morning. He and the Admiral feel there is a storm brewing, and they are determined to stay ahead of it. I am hopeful we will all arrive safely in Arendelle, without incident.

Please take care of yourself. I can only tolerate the council for so long and I would hate for the meddling of your possessions to be in vain.

Come home soon.

All my love,

Snowbug

Elsa sat on her bed, her legs crossed, and read the letter over and over with an easy smile on her face. The letters were loopy and somewhat sloppy, but clear enough that Elsa could read every word without issue. Her sister's words, laced with thinly veiled frustration and that innate, passionate stubbornness that she loved.

Anna was okay.

The relief that fell over Elsa was dizziness, a weight lifted from her shoulders, her chest, her soul that she hadn't even realized was dragging on her so heavily. Even though Markkus has told her the fighting between the Sirma and Vindarr had ended, she hadn't known for sure that Anna was okay until now. That knowledge also solidified her desire to continue training with Markkus. The kingdom and her people were in good hands, capable hands. Anna was safe. Elsa could do this.

She leaned back against the headboard and sighed, feeling like for the first time in a long time she could actually breathe. She took a moment to soak up the sense of calm as it settled in her chest, and then lowered her head and read over her sister's words once more, paying specific attention to the last paragraph.

Anna may not have held back her frustration with her older sister, or her concern over their separation, but it was obvious that she hadn't felt comfortable speaking plainly about the trouble Captain Jogeir and Admiral Naismith felt was coming. It also meant that her sister was worried someone else was going to read the letter before it made its way to Elsa, someone with less than honorable intentions.

Elsa bit her lip. It was also obvious to her that the Captain and Admiral were making a plan in case Markkus didn't release her as promised. She was sure such a plan wasn't needed—Markkus already told her that he would release her soon as they could create a peace treaty with the Sirma—but it made her feel better, safer, that her people wouldn't give up on her so soon. Considering all the trouble she had put them through with her coronation, and now this, it felt nice to have that safety net now.


Anna slumped in her chair, folded her arms on the table in front of her, then dropped her head against them. The past few days had moved by at an agonizingly slow pace as she tried to fulfill the duties her sister had entrusted to her. She had updated the council, distributed the food, held court, and soothed the worries and troubles of the people as well as she could. She'd even managed to solve a few problems, and yet right now she felt as worthless as the piles of books spread across the table in front of her.

She spent the days playing the good sister, and her evenings joining Kristoff as they combed through the castle's library, looking for any information they could dig up on the Vindarr or the lands to the north. Anna found it hard to believe that an entire nation of people could be living within a few days' travel without any record of them anywhere. The closest thing she found was an order to build and staff Sioaskard Fortress, to monitor the northern border and protect from "Northern Raiders." An order signed by her great grandfather.

There were more books in the castle's library than she could count, and they were all proving to be frustratingly useless. Tomorrow she, Kristoff, and Captain Jogeir would return to the Northern encampment, and she desperately wanted to bring something back with her, something that could help them, but there was nothing. She could do nothing to help Elsa's situation, which she could only trust wasn't a dangerous one. Anna trusted her sister's judgment, but she also trusted the cautious voice screaming from the back of her mind that something was terribly wrong.

"Maybe we should start at 'B' for beginning!"

Head down and eyes closed, Anna heard Olaf's exclamation from the other side of the room, followed by Kristoff answering with a noncommittal noise. Olaf had spent the day helping Kristoff pour through the books and, unlike her, he didn't seem like he would run out of steam or optimism any time soon.

"Just a little bit further—"

She listened as the snowman moved around, as a table shifted.

"Whoops!"

There was a click, then a grinding noise, like gears moving against each other. Anna's head shot up just in time to see a cloud of dust filling the room, blocking her view of Olaf and Kristoff. She frowned, coughed a bit. "Kristoff?"

When the dust settled, Anna could see that Olaf was standing on the rearing leg of a horse statue, lowered like a lever. Just behind the statue, where a bookcase had once stood was now an opening, a doorway. A secret doorway. Anna jumped from her chair and rushed across the room, stopping just shy of the entranceway.

Olaf jumped down off the horse and peeked his head inside the dark room. "You don't see that every day."

"What is it?" Kristoff stepped closer, squinting through the darkness as he tried to get a better look.

Anna shook her head. "I have no idea." She brushed past Kristoff, plunging headlong into the room and immediately slamming her shins into something hard and unyielding. She cursed under her breath and bent to rub at her aching shin. Maybe walking blindly into a dark room wasn't the best idea. She turned back toward the entrance to find Kristoff already holding a candle out for her. She smiled gratefully as she took it and turned back to the secret room.

Anna held the candle high as she stepped forward, the light revealing a windowless room with vaulted ceilings and shelves carved from the flagstone. The walls were plain, smooth rock with tiny crystals embedded, that sparkled as the candlelight danced across them.

Her eyes widened as she tried to take in everything in the room. The shelves were littered with various objects—scales, bottles, and glass beakers filled with countless plants. Beyond the collection of wondrous items was the sheer number of books. Tomes of all sizes, colors, and varieties filled the shelves, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Anna's pulse quickened and a second wind washed over her. Her exhaustion and frustration were forgotten, replaced by excitement and optimism. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something here that could help Elsa.

She was facing the books, trying to figure out where to even begin, when something caught her eye. A table was set up in the center of the room, with chairs framing it. There was nothing spectacular about the furniture—it was the deep burgundy cloth draped over the back of one of the chairs that had drawn Anna's attention. There was something strikingly familiar about it.

Anna crossed the room, her candle shedding flickering light onto the item. She stumbled as she realized what the cloth was.

It was her mother's scarf. Left hanging over the back of a chair like she had stepped away for only a moment.

Anna's chest tightened as a sudden deluge of thoughts clashed in her head. The one that stood out was the realization that her mother had been here, in this secret, hidden room. She knew about it.

Despite her excitement at what possibilities the room might hold, she felt a heaviness in her chest from the thought of such a room. Another secret, one of her mother's. It seemed her family had a never-ending supply of secrets.


After a few sessions, Elsa was feeling more comfortable in the darkness. She had become more in tune with her other senses, could smell the crashing sea below the courtyard, taste the salt on her lips, and hear the soft whistle of the wind as it twisted across the rock face. But she was also becoming more in tune with her magic. She could feel it, the icy burn coursing through her veins, except this time it was different, stronger, thrumming beneath her skin.

She flexed her fingers as she followed the faint movement of Markkus's steps against the ice covering the smooth stone all around her. Elsa felt the now-familiar jolt of electricity slicing through the snowflakes suspended in the air, racing across the courtyard from a point behind her. In a single motion, she twisted and threw out her hand, a blast of ice colliding with the bolt of electricity, canceling each other out with a crack that rocked the air.

Elsa was getting better, faster. She tracked the man's movements through her magic, followed the stream of lightning as it barreled across the space between them. She still missed more bolts than she blocked, just a fraction too slow, and was covered in angry welts and minor burns. But she was learning, dipping further into her magic that she ever had, with every step she took slowly moving toward something she had wanted so desperately, for so long. Something that she was starting to believe was possible.

A sharp lance of pain slammed against Elsa's shoulder, demanding her full attention. She gritted her teeth, pressing a cold hand over the hot mark.

"I think we are done for today."

Elsa frowned but didn't argue, knowing there was no point. They had been practicing all afternoon and were quickly losing daylight. She pulled the blindfold off as Markkus crossed the courtyard toward her.

"Your mind is wandering," he said.

Elsa's ears burned as she remembered all the times her tutors would scold her for the same thing, but there was less disappointment in his voice than her teachers. Markkus instead spoke like he was merely making an observation. She twisted the blind fold in her hands, opting to return the observation with honesty. "I'm sorry, there's just a lot on my mind."

"Is it something from your sister's letter?" Markkus gestured toward the side of the courtyard that overlooked the sea.

Elsa followed him to the low stone wall and leaned against it. She took a deep breath, enjoying the comforting scent of ocean air in a waning day. It smelled like home. She let the breath out slowly, collecting her thoughts before turning to take a seat on the wall, putting her back to the setting sun. "No," she answered. "All things considered, she seemed okay. Worried, but okay. And I know Arendelle is safe in her hands."

"But?" Markkus prompted softly.

Elsa folded her legs in front of her and stared down at her hands. "Anna is safe. Arendelle is okay. For the first time since I was little, I feel like I'm not constantly fighting against my magic. Like control—real control—is something I can achieve. But I still . . ." She rubbed the tips of her fingers together, watching the frost coat them in icy rosemaling patterns as she tried to find the words for what she was feeling.

"Feel out of place?" Markkus offered softly.

Elsa glanced up at him, scrunching her nose as she dropped her gaze back to her hands. She considered his words, knowing there was some truth there, but also more. She felt less out of place here, on the frozen island of Hasvik, than she was used to, and that in itself was a problem. She couldn't stay here; she had to go home. She wanted to see her sister, and she had responsibilities she couldn't walk away from.

"Tell me about your kingdom," Markkus said, interrupting her thoughts.

Elsa's brow wrinkled at the unexpected request. She pressed her lips together, tilted her head. "It's peaceful," she said. "A small kingdom that trades goods all over the world, with beautiful mountain ranges and large forests. Arendelle, where I live, sits in Arenfjord, protected by large cliffs and an endless sea. Most of the tradeable goods for the kingdom come through Arendelle's docks, so it's rather busy despite its size. People of all sorts come through the town."

"You speak of it fondly."

She smiled. "It's home."

"It's where you belong?"

Taken aback, Elsa stammered, "o-of course." The response was thin, less confident than she would have wanted. She shook her head. "I was born there. I spent my entire life learning and training to be their Queen. Arendelle is where I belong." Her words were steadier this time, though she wasn't so sure which of them she was trying to convince.

Markkus nodded. "The Queen of a small, peaceful, maritime kingdom." He cocked his head, narrowing his gaze as he stared intently. "Do you really think that is where you belong?"

Elsa blinked. "Where else is there?"

"With the power you have? Anywhere," he said. "I have travelled to many different lands and studied the magic of countless cultures but have never come across anyone who can do what you can. A person with your magic, your power? You weren't born to be soft and quiet, sitting on the throne of a sleepy little kingdom. Someone like you was born to make the world shatter and shake at their fingertips."

Elsa frowned, wrapping her arms around herself as she tore her gaze away from the intense stare of older man. "I don't want to make the world do anything," she said. "I just want to be able to live with my sister and not have to worry about hurting anyone."

"But you have the potential to do so much more," he protested. "You would waste the gift you were given by living your life in peaceful obscurity."

"I didn't ask for this magic. It's not a gift, and if I could get rid of it I would. The only thing it has ever done is hurt the people around me."

Markkus sighed and turned away from her. "You want freedom, but you will never find it hiding in your castle pretending that your magic is less than what it is. Than what it is meant to be. A wolf is a wolf, even in a cage, even dressed in silk."

Elsa swallowed thickly, her fingers twisting in the material of her shirt. She wanted Markkus to be wrong, to believe she was meant for nothing more than what she had been taught her whole life. But she couldn't ignore the pull of her magic, the alluring song that called to her in her dreams. The question that hung over her head every day.

Why was I born with magic?

"I have made arrangements for you to be escorted home the day after tomorrow."

Elsa's gaze snapped back to the man's face. Her stomach twisted at his words. "What?"

"I'm a man of my word," Markkus said. "I promised to release you once the fighting was done. We haven't started to pursue a treaty with the Sirma yet, but I'm no longer worried about them trying to use you to fight their war. And I did promise to see you escorted home." He turned away from her and started to walk away but stopped. "You may not appreciate the gift you have been given," he said, turned back to face her. "I understand the pain it has caused you. But if you want to continue to learn how to use it properly, and perhaps find purpose along the way, you are more than welcome to stay here in Hasvik."

Elsa opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. She opted for a small nod, a curt "thank you." She stayed seated on the courtyard wall and watched Markkus walk away until he disappeared into the fortress. Suddenly, she felt torn with herself. She'd been so focused on returning home to Arendelle, and now she was entertaining the possibility of staying on Hasvik, thinking about what the future may hold if she did.

If she stayed here, she could learn to use and control her magic in a way she never thought possible. But she knew she couldn't; Arendelle needed her. She had a duty to her people. But the oath Elsa had sworn was to do what was best for Arendelle. Maybe this was best for Arendelle.

The kingdom needed a Queen who was in control of her powers, not someone who was barely hanging on, who struggled more and more every day to control the growing power threatening to break out with every emotional hiccup. Maybe Markkus was right; maybe this is where Elsa belonged. Not permanently, but perhaps temporarily. Just for a few more weeks.

Arendelle would be fine without her; it had Anna and the council. She would have to figure out what to tell the people, how much of the truth she was willing to share. But maybe it would ease some of the tensions if they knew she was taking extra steps to learn how to use her magic properly.

Then again, staying in Hasvik could escalate the tensions with other countries that were already wary about Elsa's magic. If they knew she was being trained, they might feel a need to take preventative action. It might as good as confirm that she did want to use her magic against other countries. She wouldn't even have to make a move against another kingdom. They wouldn't want to wait, wouldn't want to chance it. She'd be putting Arendelle in danger.

But she was already doing that, wasn't she? By not having perfect control over her power? By simply existing?

Elsa leaned forward, drawing her knees up and resting her head in her hands. Her stomach churned painfully, and she felt more torn than she ever had. It was an impossible choice she was facing, and it felt like no matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt. What Arendelle really needed was a normal Queen. Someone whose very existence didn't put them at risk of conflict with other kingdoms. Someone who was comfortable around other people, who knew how to talk to them, how to comfort and reassure them.

Arendelle would be better off without her, with Anna as their Queen. But was that really a burden that she could lie at her sister's feet?


Markkus sat in his chair with his chin braced in his palm, his narrowed gaze pointed at the fire cracking in the hearth. He was thinking back on the conversation he'd had with Elsa just a few hours ago, and all that it meant. Everything it would mean moving forward from this moment.

A creaking sound filled the room as the door opened and someone walked into the room. He knew without looking who it was; there was only one person who would dare to enter without knocking. Markkus shifted his gaze anyway, studying the young man as he approached the desk, the whites of his eyes glowing brightly against his dark skin.

"You don't seem very happy." His apothecary's accent was thick and clipped, a lingering trait from the homeland the man had never cared to drop. He lowered himself into the chair across from Markkus and reclined casually, resting his elbows on the armrests. "Things not going as well as you hoped?"

Markkus's gaze lingered on the man a moment longer before sliding back to the fire. "Her will is proving stronger than I anticipated."

The apothecary shook his head. "You could always just take the magic. She still wears the bracers, no?"

"I tried." Markkus reached into one of his desk drawers and withdrew two crystals, both of which glowed a blinding pale blue. He placed the crystals on the desk, then sat back in his chair. "After she started taking the blood clover drug again, I drew out some magic while she was asleep."

"Is her magic not what you want?"

"No, not like this." Markkus sighed, picking up one of the crystals from the desktop and turning it between his fingers. "This only allows me to use ice magic, but Elsa can do more than that. Far, far more. Without any training, she managed to cover her kingdom in twenty feet of snow, to freeze the sea for miles out, and create sentient life. This crystal—" he curled his lip as he tossed it back onto the desk. "—at most allows our people to fling ice shards and craft defensive barriers. It's no different than the other crystals, just using a different element."

"There are other ways to bend her will." The other man raised an eyebrow, rubbing his tented fingertips together. "I don't understand why you are being so careful."

"Whatever Elsa is, it's not human. Nor is it spirit." Markkus sighed. "I need her, but her magic is tied tightly to her emotions. If we place to much pressure in the wrong spot, the results could be . . . unmanageable."

The man leaned back in the chair, his gaze dropping to the crystals. "What do you plan on doing with her?" he asked.

"The same thing I did with you," Markkus answered.

The apothecary snorted, shaking his head. "You didn't have to drug me into submission."

"No." The corner of Markkus's lip curled as he remembered the day that he found the man, then a seven-year-old boy, in a tiny village, covered in blood and surrounded by bodies. The apothecary was only person besides the Queen of Arendelle that he had ever encountered possessing magic they were born with. "I did not," he said. "And eventually, I will not have to drug her, either." Having decided, he scooped up the crystals and dropped them back into the drawer, shutting it with a snap. "Double her dose of the blood clover and prepare for a walk."

The apothecary pressed his lips into a tight line. "I thought you said you don't want her to be mindlessly obedient?"

"I don't," Markkus said. "But that doesn't mean I don't want a failsafe, just in case." He tapped his fingertips on the desktop and nodded. "I trust your work."