AN: o/
Anna looked down at the report clenched between her fingers. She had already read through the document multiple times, signed it, and given her approval for it to be sent on the Gambit back home. The ship had left for Arendelle just that morning, bearing the original copy to be delivered to the council, along with the news that the royal family and those accompanying them would be traveling home shortly. Assuming the weather held steady, they would arrive in Arendelle the day after The Gambit, giving the household staff enough time to prepare.
Despite the long list of things Anna had to be anxious about, her stomach fluttered with excitement. It felt like it had been forever since she was home, in a place that she knew for sure was safe and secure. The soldiers here in Hasvik would do all they could to protect her and her sister from anyone trying to harm them, but Anna wouldn't be able to relax until she got Elsa tucked away within the castle walls of Arendelle, with a company of soldiers and guards between her and anyone that might want to hurt her. Anna had never before truly appreciated the security of their home until recent events.
She wondered how the events would effect her sister in the long term, how they would effect her. She didn't want them to turn her into a distrusting person, suspicious of everyone's motives. She'd still go into town and talk to the people, engage them, help them. Believe the best in them. She wanted to improve the conditions at the town's orphanage, help make education and books more accessible to everyone. Anna wanted to help people, and she would take her sister's advise not to let the hateful actions of a few people tarnish her desire to help others.
But at the same time, she could no longer continue to pretend that everyone she encountered had the best of intentions, and she knew now that even those who believed they did could still cause a lot of damage. It would take some effort to reconcile these two opposing ideas. Anna looked to the table where Kristoff was finishing his lunch. Maybe she could talk to him about it, he used to believe the worst in people, and had recently learned to open up. At least, more than he did when it was just him and Sven. He had the same problem she was now facing, just on the opposite end of the spectrum.
But that was a discussion for later, when they were safely home. Right now, Anna had to focus on the task of presenting her sister with the report of events. Elsa would not be happy that they were taking a risk to protect her, but it was the level of unhappy she was unsure about. Elsa's emotional responses were unpredictable at the best of time, and right now they were so far removed from "the best of times" she couldn't even see it on the horizon.
Anna crossed the room and sat heavily across from Kristoff.
Kristoff raised his eyebrows and laid his fork against the plate. "You looked worried."
Anna sighed and pressed her palm against her forehead as she dropped the long report onto the tabletop. "At this point, I feel like 'worry' is becoming my default expression. Is Resting Worry Face a thing?"
Kristoff pushed his plate to the side, giving Anna his full attention. "Anything specific causing this Resting Worry Face?"
Anna felt a lump form in her throat. She shook her head. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"This," Anna said, rolling her hand in the air. "You came all this way north, miles and miles from home, just for Elsa and I and I haven't even taken a moment to say thank you or ask you how you're doing, and you're still just . . ."
Kristoff offered an easy smile. "Anna, I'm fine. Your sister almost died, and is now going through what may turn into a very rough withdrawal. You were kidnapped and used against her, and have spent the last two months in an almost constant state of worry and fear. I'm not going to get mad or upset because you are spending every waking moment with Elsa. Who, I must once more point out, almost died and is going through withdrawal." He shifted in his chair, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on the table. "I know we have only known each other for three months, but in that time, I think I have learned a lot about you and Elsa, and right now, the thing you guys need the most is each other. I'm here when you need me. Or, to make sure you two don't kill each other when Elsa inevitably tries to return to work before she's fully recovered. Because we both know that's going to happen."
Anna rolled her eyes. "There's something I am both looking forward to and dreading whole heartedly." She desperately wanted to see her sister healthy enough to exhibit some of her trademark stubbornness. So far since waking Elsa had been mostly, worryingly compliant, and Anna hoped that it was just due to not having the energy needed to argue and be her normal willful self. At the same time, she knew that at some point in this recovery there would be an inevitable argument over Elsa's insatiable need to be working. It wasn't a matter of if, but when. But knowing that it was coming, maybe she would be able to manage the severity.
Kristoff's voice brought her back to her present. "You're also wrong about one thing."
Anna blinked at him. "What's that?"
"I didn't come all this way North because you and Elsa were in trouble and the Admiral and Guard Captain asked for my help to navigate the mountain passes. Or sail through a magical mist and follow you into battle both because I wanted to keep you safe and because I promised your slightly scary older sister that I would."
Anna's brow wrinkled. "What? Then why did you come?"
A crooked, handsome grin stretched across his face. "Alarik said there would be free food."
Anna blinked dumbly, her tired mind needing a moment to catch up and process his words. She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, and as it did, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "Thank you."
Kristoff hitched a shoulder then jutted his chin toward the papers sitting in front of Anna. "Is that what has you worried?"
Anna nodded and picked up the papers, looking over the words she had read at least ten times already. "I'm worried about her, about how she'll react. I don't want Elsa looking at this report as another choice being taken from her. I want to help her, not stress her out more."
"I'm not sure you can help your sister without stressing her out at least a little bit. She's not very good at accepting help."
Anna raised her eyebrows in agreement. "My never-ending quest in life. Getting my sister to accept help. But without the aid of life threatening injuries."
Kristoff cocked his head. "Hmm, you might want to aim for a bit more realistic goal. Like teaching a wall to roll over."
Anna snorted. He wasn't wrong. If she were to look up 'stubborn' in the dictionary she was pretty sure she'd just find her sister's face in lieu of a proper definition. Once Elsa felt well enough to start working, the situation was going to be anything but funny. It would be frustrating and stressful. But she and Kristoff could joke about it now because Elsa would recover. There was a day not too far in the future in which she was going to feel well enough to start trying to work, and a day she was going to feel strong enough to be willful and stubborn and frustrating. Elsa was going to be fine.
"Speaking of accepting help," Kristoff said, but waited until he had Anna's full attention to continue. He gestured to the papers. "Why don't you let me tell Elsa about the report."
Her eyebrows squished together. "Alone? But you didn't even have anything to do with the decision."
"Exactly. She can't be mad or upset with me. I'm just the messenger."
Anna tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the man, knowing there was more to it then just self-sacrifice. Her silence was quickly rewarded, as Kristoff sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I just have a feeling that. . ." He didn't finish the thought, instead pressing his lips into a thin line.
Anna knew that expression. She had seen it on Elsa's face on the rare occasion her sister couldn't quite arrange her thoughts into words.
"I can't explain it," he said finally. "Just . . . trust me?"
"I do," Anna responded, without needing to think about it. She felt a small thrill of surprise, not from the realization that she trusted Kristoff-she already knew that-but because she trusted him with her sister. With Elsa's emotional wellbeing. And she did so without hesitation. Anna slid the report across the table toward Kristoff. "I trust you."
Elsa shifted restlessly, wincing as the movement caused muted sparks of pain to flare throughout her body. She attempted to stay still, fighting the overwhelming urge to move. She was twitchy and hot, uncomfortable. She remembered this feeling, one she experienced the last time she stopped taking Markkus's drug.
This time, the muscle cramps and stomach pains were being blissfully dampened by the pain meds the good doctor was dosing her with, but other symptoms were pushing past uncomfortable into barely tolerable. Her skin felt itchy and hot, so overly sensitive that even the lightest touch was unpleasant. She was restless and wanted to move around, or at least get out of bed, an urge exacerbated by the fact she had no idea how long it had been since she first woke up in this room. This room that felt small and cramped and left her with a sense of being trapped, making everything worse.
The medication Malthe was giving her helped a little by burying the pain. She still hated taking it, how the resulting fuzzy, disconnected feeling made it hard to hold onto a single train of thought for longer than a few minutes. But the fuzziness did make it harder to dwell on those things she wasn't quite ready to think about.
Like what had happened with the Sirma, the lives lost directly and indirectly because of her magic. The Vindarr and Markkus, and Tyr trying to kill her. What she did to him. Being drugged and manipulated. Injured, nearly killed, and now in the throes of withdrawal. Everything that had happened, everything that could happen. Elsa's breath hitched painfully. It was too much. She couldn't process it all, didn't even know where to start.
Elsa looked across the room to the window, and the soft-looking chair positioned near it. It was too hot in this bed, buried beneath these covers—she needed to get up, needed air. She twisted her fingers in the heavy blanket and dragged it from her legs, breathing an immediate sigh of relief as the cool air hit her skin. She paused, the effort taking more from her than she had expected, then started carefully shifting her legs toward the edge of the mattress. It was a slow, arduous process, she had to paused several times before she was finally sitting upright, her feet dangling off the bed. She curled around her broken arm, her left hand braced against the mattress as she blew out laborious breaths. Even under the cloak of drugs, her wounded sides and stomach screamed in protest.
She could do this. It was a simple task. She had scaled the North Mountain in a single night, managed a kingdom on little, sometimes no, sleep. She could walk six feet from her bed to the window. She just needed a moment to catch her breath.
"You realize that if Anna walked in right now, you wouldn't have to worry about accidently hurting yourself because she would likely kill you."
Elsa startled at Kristoff's voice. She hadn't even heard the door open. She twisted toward him, freezing mid-motion as her damaged side pulled with an explosion of pain. She gritted her teeth and curled further into herself.
"Sorry," Kristoff said, rushing to her side. "I didn't mean to startle you." His hands hovered around her hunched form but he didn't touch, likely worried he'd only hurt her further.
Elsa bit down on her lip and waited for the pain to settle to a manageable level before responding. "It's fine," she said, her voice breathy and weak-sounding.
Kristoff frowned, looking like he believed her as much as Anna and Malthe did every time she uttered those words, but refrained from commenting. "What are you doing up?" he asked instead. "You're going to reopen your wound if you move around too much."
Elsa shook her head. "It's too hot," she said, without thinking, so overwhelmed and frustrated she was unable to offer anything more than the truth.
Kristoff straightened and looked toward the window. He raised an eyebrow. "If I open the window, will you lay back down?"
She didn't want to. She was tired of laying around and sleeping, but she was also just tired. Sitting up now, even for as short a time as it had been, was leaving her lightheaded and nauseated. After a short internal debate, she nodded.
Kristoff returned the gesture and crossed to the window, pushing it open and allowing a burst of chilly ocean air to sweep into the room. Elsa closed her eyes as the air brushed over her overheated skin, drawing as deep a breath as she could manage. The frosty air went to work soothing the fire under her skin. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"Do you need help?" Kristoff asked, his tone hesitant and unsure.
No, she thought automatically, but as Elsa rotated her body just enough to look back at the bed, she honestly wasn't sure if she could make it back to the stack of pillows. At least, not without pulling at every sore, achy muscle in her body. Maybe she could just stay here, sitting on the edge of the bed. She let out a slow breath and said, "I think I can manage."
Kristoff nodded and waited patiently as she made the slow journey, shifting inch by inch until she was back against the pillows. Elsa relaxed, grateful that Malthe had been in only a few hours earlier to ensure the pain was raging under the cottony medicated layer, muted and dull instead of fierce. She closed her eyes, letting some of the tension ease out of her abused muscles. She still felt hot, itchy, and restless, her skin oversensitive, but the cool breeze now moving around the room felt wonderful.
"You okay?" Kristoff asked, after a long moment of silence.
Elsa nodded and opened her eyes, tilted her head toward him. "How's Anna?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's Anna. Tired, worried about you, upset she can't do more."
"She's already doing more than enough."
"You try telling her that."
Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line. Her sister would never believe she had done enough, was always try to do everything she could to help others. In Anna's eyes, there was always something more she should be doing. She sighed. "And how are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Kristoff said with a shrug. "Happy we are finally setting sail tomorrow."
"I'm sorry you were dragged into this mess."
"Elsa, no one dragged me anywhere." He paused, then grinned. "I just came for the free food."
Elsa raised an eyebrow and chuckled. She rested her head against the pillow and allowed her eyes to slip shut once more, feeling a bit more relaxed.
"I did come in here for a reason though."
"I imagined so," she replied, with her eyes still closed.
"The Gambit left this morning to head back to Arendelle," Kristoff said. "With it a report for the council of what took place here."
Elsa opened her eyes, her heart dropping into her stomach. This was it, then. She hadn't known they were going to send a ship back ahead of them, nor was she aware that a report was going with it. It made sense though, to give the staff time to prepare for their arrival, and the council an opportunity to read the report. To decide what needed to be done.
Kristoff lifted a short stack of folded documents and held them out to her. "Anna thought you might wanna read it."
Elsa dropped her gaze to her hands, pulling at the frayed edge of the bandage around her wrist. "I'll read it later."
"I think you should read it now," he said in a low voice.
Elsa studied his face, knowing Kristoff wouldn't press the matter, even lightly, unless there was good reason. She reached out and hesitantly took the papers. She didn't want to read the report, didn't want to see her mistakes written out in ink, a permanent record of her failures. But there was something in his expression that had her unfolding the papers. The first half of the report outlined what had happened in Sioaskard, the Sirma camp. It wasn't Anna's handwriting but it was her words—Elsa would recognize her sister's cadence anywhere. Then the document shifted to what took place the night they attacked the Sirma encampment, the things she had missed. The handwriting remained the same throughout the report, but she picked up on the shifts in narration, as the story moved from the Admiral's words, to Captain Jogeir's, and eventually to Malthe's.
She continued to read, her tired eyes coming up on the part she dreaded most—what had happened here in Hasvik, during Anna's visit, and after. Elsa read through it quickly, only to blink heavily once she reached the end of the report. Her gaze flicked up to Kristoff before she reread the last few pages. Finally, she looked up at Kristoff who was watching her silently from where he'd taken a seat in the chair. "This isn't what happened."
Kristoff raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "From what I understand, those are the events as the Admiral, the Captain, Malthe, and Anna remember them happening."
"Kristoff," Elsa said sharply. The report didn't mention the blood clover, or her choosing to stay in Hasvik. It didn't mention her ordering Anna to return home, nor that she had been declared unfit to rule and Anna having to step in and clean up her sister's mess. The report didn't paint her as a victim, but it didn't place the blame for what happened at her feet, where it should have been. Instead, the document placed fault with the Sirma, then the Vindarr. There were gaps in the report, events that only she was witness to, left open for her to fill in at a later time. They were protecting her. She shook her head. "You shouldn't have done this."
"I didn't do anything," Kristoff said. "Like I said, I'm just here for the food."
"They shouldn't have done this," she pressed, her cheeks hot. "It's too risky. if the council finds out they lied in an official report to cover for me—"
"The only people who know the complete truth of what happened here are those four—" he pointed to the signatures at the bottom of the page "—myself, Alarik, and you. As far as anyone else knows, you let Anna know you were in danger when she came to visit you at Hasvik. You told her that Markkus wasn't going to let you leave, and she authorized an attack on the Keep. If you think about it, it's not really a lie, just a different interpretation of the truth."
Elsa shook her head again, looking down at the pages. "I'm not worth all this trouble."
"Unfortunately," Kristoff said, but paused until he had her full attention. "You don't get to decide that."
She jerked her head. "What?"
"You don't get to decide what you're worth to Anna," he said, frowning. "Or to me, or Admiral Naismith and Captain Jogeir, or Malthe, or Arendelle. That's our decision, and everyone here feels whatever risk there is in this—" he once more jabbed a finger toward the report in her hands. "If we can make a small part of this nightmare just a little easier for you, if we can lighten your load even a fraction, then it is well worth the cost."
Elsa lowered her chin, keeping her gaze locked on the report. She released a shaky breath, not yet ready to accept his words, that she was worthy of any of this. "Arendelle would be safer without me," she said. "Without my magic."
"Probably, yeah."
Her chest tightened as she looked up at him. She knew it was true, but to hear it spoken aloud by someone else...
Kristoff folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "I would have been safer had I not taken Anna up the North Mountain all those months ago."
Elsa frowned. Perhaps it was the pain medication, but she was having difficulty connecting the seemingly random pieces of the conversation.
"It would have been safer if, when your winter ended, I went back to my normal life," Kristoff continued. "Back to just me and Sven living alone." He paused, allowing a moment for his words to settle. "But safer doesn't mean better. My life wouldn't be better had I not met Anna, and it wouldn't be better if I had walked away from her and you." He took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. "Yes, your magic makes Arendelle a target. But that doesn't make you bad for Arendelle. There are lots of things that can make a country a target. Resources, location, beliefs, money. This isn't any different. Not really.
"I haven't known you for that long, and after the storm, I admit I didn't really trust you. But since then, seeing your dedication to do what is right for Arendelle, for the people around you, I know you are what is best for Arendelle. And the fact that you think you aren't just proves that you are."
Elsa dropped her gaze, her fingers twisting around the edges of her blanket. She trusted Kristoff, trusted him to be honest, but she still had a hard time wrapping her mind around what he was telling her. Finally, she shook her head. "But what happened with Markkus—"
"Was a mistake," he interjected firmly "Everyone makes them. Even your parents."
Elsa snapped her head back to Kristoff, narrowing her eyes. "They did their best."
"And so did you. Elsa, Markkus manipulated you. He offered you something that you have desperately wanted for a long time. There isn't a soul here who can say they wouldn't have made the same choices you did."
"That doesn't make it okay."
Kristoff shook his head. "No, it doesn't. It just makes you human. Like the rest of us."
