AN: Hi. Hope everyone enjoys the chapter, it's a little calmer than what I had originally planned. What was supposed to be the last scene of this chapter got pushed to the first scene of the next chapter. I hope everyone is having a good weekend. Stay safe, healthy and don't forget to leave a tip on your way out.
Anna walked to the door of the room she had been sharing with Elsa and quietly pushed it open. Once she had entered the room, she shut the door just as carefully behind her. She crossed to the bed, setting a warm mug on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the mattress. There was just enough light from the moon to illuminate the room in a soft pale glow, and Anna took the opportunity to watch her sister sleep. The quiet moment watching the steady rise and fall of Elsa's chest was like a soothing balm to the stress that had accumulated over the last week. Anna hated that she was going to have to wake her sister from this rare moment of peace, knowing full-well that Elsa needed whatever rest she could get.
Elsa hadn't said anything about the report since receiving it; in fact, she didn't say much of anything at all throughout the rest of the day. She had spent the day quiet, speaking only when asked a question, and even then, she offered short, clipped answers. This wasn't the depressed, resigned quiet that Anna had grown used to the last few days, but something more contemplative, like her sister was working through a particularly complicated puzzle. Working on a problem she wasn't yet ready to give voice to.
Elsa wasn't shutting her out, or anyone else, and so Anna was content enough to allow her sister the room to think, to work out whatever was on her mind. That, however, hadn't stopped her from asking Kristoff what he'd said to her when delivering the report. All he would say was that it was a private conversation between him and Elsa, and if she wanted to share, then she would.
Anna was frustrated over not knowing what had been said, not liking that Elsa and Kristoff had secrets she wasn't a part of. She felt a twinge of childish jealousy, but wasn't sure at which of them it was directed at or for. She tried to stamp down on the feeling, telling herself that if Kristoff could help Elsa in a way that she couldn't, then she should be grateful for it. Her sister being okay was the most important thing right now. Much more important than her own fragile feelings.
Anna let out a deep breath as she leaned forward to brush Elsa's bangs away from her face. She frowned and adjusted her hand, laying it across her sister's forehead. She registered the heat radiating from Elsa, worry twisting her gut, and slid her hand to cup her sister's face. "Elsa," she whispered, rubbing a thumb across her cheek, hoping to wake the woman without startling her.
It took a few tries before Anna's effort was rewarded. Elsa's brow wrinkled, and Anna gave her a moment as she struggled through the fog of sleep.
"Anna?" Elsa whispered, her voice hoarse and thick. She dragged a clumsy hand across her eyes, a wince crossing her face. "Time is it?"
Anna looked toward the window, the bright moon the only light beyond it, and winced. She was waking her sister far earlier than usual, even for the early rising Queen. "It's still night. How are you feeling?"
Elsa shifted in the bed, scrunching her face in discomfort. "Awful," she rasped, pressing her hand against her forehead. Anna could see a bloom of frost forming under her splayed fingers, only to melt away as quickly as it was created. "Too hot."
Anna pressed her lips into a thin line. "I think your fever's gotten worse," she said, glancing toward the door. There was no need to get the doctor, as he was going to be along shortly. It was fine, not an emergency. Just a little temperature spike. Elsa would be fine. Anna leaned over toward the nightstand and took a moment to light the lamp. There was a bowl of water there and she pulled it closer, then dipped the washcloth draped over the side into the water. Thanks to the low temperature in the room, the water was still fairly cold. She wrung out the cloth and pressed it against the side of her sister's face.
Elsa sighed and leaned into the cool comfort of the cloth, so Anna let it linger for a moment before moving it to her brow. "They are loading the last of the supplies onto The Snow Squall," she told her sister. "In just a few hours we will be on a ship, heading home." She draped the cloth back over the rim of the bowl and picked up the warm mug she had brought in. "Malthe wanted me to bring you this. He also said to warn you it's significantly stronger than your previous doses."
Elsa's tired gaze slid over to her, and Anna could immediately tell her sister wasn't happy about what she'd just said. She studied the mug for a long moment before giving a small nod. "He wants me out for the move to the ship," Elsa said finally, her tone neutral, neither resigned nor upset.
Anna wrote off the lack of emotion as it being so early in the morning. "He also wants to clean your side and change your bandages before we set sail," she offered. There was no reason for her sister to be awake for either of those likely painful events, not when she could so easily sleep deeply through both of them.
Elsa dipped her chin and pushed up in the bed. Anna moved to help her so her sister didn't have to strain herself, setting the cup on the nightstand and adjusting the pillows until Elsa could lean back into them. It was too brief to be certain, but Anna thought she saw a flash of fear in her sister's eyes. She dropped her gaze to the mug, thinking about her sister's obvious aversion to taking medication of any kind. Her dislike of it was well known; she had heard about it multiple times from the castle staff growing up. Whenever Anna was sick enough to warrant medicine, their mother or Gerda would often compliment her for taking it without fuss. If only your sister listened as well as you. These were the only times when someone compared the two sisters that Anna was in the more favorable light.
It had always seemed odd to Anna that Elsa would be so stubborn about such a simple thing. Swallow down this disgusting tea or a spoonful of sickeningly sweet syrup, you got a reward for being good and a long, peaceful nap. Knowing what she knew now about her sister, Anna couldn't help but wonder if it was a control thing. A frantic grab for control over something in a world she had so little control in, including her own magic. Anna couldn't blame her if that was the case. If their roles were reversed, she might feel the same way.
"I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice, offering her sister the mug. "I know you don't like taking anything this strong, but Malthe said that cleaning the wound on your side—"
"It's fine," Elsa said, cutting her off. She reached out and took the mug, her hands shaking enough that Anna silently cupped her own fingers around her sister's so the contents didn't spill over the edge. Elsa rolled her lips between her teeth, her breath hitching, but she made no comment.
She drank the tea in one go, pushing the cup away when it was drained. Anna wordlessly returned the empty mug to the nightstand.
"Oh," Elsa breathed, blinking rapidly, then pressed a hand against her head. She put up a token fight, but it was only a matter of minutes before her sister was sound asleep, treating Anna once more to the calm, steady rise and fall of her chest.
The gentle swaying of the ship across the waves should have been enough to lull an exhausted Anna to sleep, but she couldn't seem to get her mind to settle enough to drift off. She was both excited and relieved to finally be returning to Arendelle, to be going home. They could put this whole mess behind them, or at least as far behind them as possible. But it wasn't excitement that was keeping Anna awake. It was what she had seen as she helped Malthe get Elsa ready for the journey, as he cleaned her side and replaced the bandages with fresh ones.
Malthe had arrived shortly after Elsa fell back to sleep, with Rayna trailing behind him, her arms loaded with an array of supplies. Anna had expected him to ask her to leave the room like he did when they first found Elsa, but instead only asked if she was sure she wanted to stay.
Of course, Anna had responded without hesitation. Elsa was her sister, and she wanted to help in whatever way she could. Malthe's expression had been regretful, sad, but he made no comment. At the doctor's direction, Anna slid behind her slumbering sister, helping to guide Elsa into enough of a seated position that he could remove the bandages.
Anna had imagined she'd seen the worst of it that night they found Elsa alone and bleeding out in a cold, wet hallway. She was wrong. The laceration on her shoulder didn't look too bad. It was still red and puckered, but well on its way to healing. The wound on Elsa's side caused Anna to wince just from looking at the skin angry and raw around the wound. Malthe was quick to assure her it was free from infection. The doctor cleaned the wound meticulously, using a salve to cover the line of stitching that wrapped around her side all the way to her back before placing clean gauze over top. Anna was glad her sister was not conscious for the horribly painful looking process. But these were all injuries she had already seen, the damage she had been expecting and had braced herself for when the doctor entered the room.
As Malthe removed the layers of thick, soft gauze that were wrapped around Elsa's torso and chest, Anna suddenly understood his earlier expression, understood why he had asked if she was sure she wanted to stay for this. And Anna understood why, even under the mask of painkillers, her sister winced every time she moved.
Elsa's right side, from just under her arm to her hip, was covered in dark, purplish brown bruising. The contusions stretched around to her abdomen, painting deep colors across the otherwise pale, delicate skin. Anna's heart skipped when she noticed the horrific boot-shaped bruise on her sister's chest, just below the hollow of her throat. Looking at that mark, she wanted to resurrect Tyr just so she would have the chance to kill him herself.
Anna bit her bottom lip, refusing to let any tears fall as she tightened her grip on her unaware sister. The doctor rubbed an ointment of some sort across the extensive bruising, explaining in a quiet voice how it would help them heal faster. Anna nodded along numbly, her mind having a hard time connecting the extent of injuries and the unconscious, pale, feverish woman in her arms to her strong, willful, and graceful sister.
She took a few deep breaths, running her fingers through her sister's hair even though she knew Elsa wouldn't feel it. The rhythmic motion helped to calm her nerves, at least until Malthe unwrapped the gauze from Elsa's wrists. At first Anna thought the raw, torn skin there was from the cuffs her sister had worn for so long. Malthe directed Rayna to apply a salve to the wounds, to re-wrap them, tucking the marks out of sight. Then the young girl moved to Elsa's legs, revealing identical wounds around her ankles, another set just above her knees, and one across her chest and upper arms. Anna hadn't even known about these injuries, and the similarity between them set Anna's heart and imagination racing.
She had asked Malthe what had caused them, needing him to put her mind at ease, to tell her it was something innocuous. Instead, he only shook his head, apologizing for not having more information for her, that all he knew was that they happened prior to her fight with Tyr. Anna had turned heated eyes on the young girl who had been with Elsa throughout most of this mess. She almost felt bad when Rayna returned the look with a fearful, apologetic gaze.
"I didn't know about them, I swear," she said, wringing her hands in front of her. "It must have happened when she was missing."
"Missing?" Anna echoed, her heart thumping painfully against her chest. "Missing how?"
Rayna fidgeted. "A few days before you guys came, Elsa went to meet Markkus for training. She was gone for a few days and when I asked where she was, Markkus said there was a training accident. He said she was in a private room, but they wouldn't let me see her." She tugged at a loose thread on her sleeve. "They brought her back to the room the morning before the attack, but she was unconscious. When she finally woke up, she . . . she seemed to be in a lot of pain. The apothecary sent up some stuff to help her sleep and told me to make sure she took 'em. I think one was to help her sleep, but the other was the blood clover."
Anna could hear the fear and worry in Rayna's voice, and because of it, she was inclined to believe her, but that didn't ease her worries in the slightest. She felt a lump form in her throat, threatening to choke her. She stared down at the abrasions marking her sister as Rayna went back to tending to them. Her worry for Elsa, for what she'd been through, increased tenfold as the realization struck her.
They restrained her.
But these marks weren't just from being restrained—they were from fighting against restraints.
Anna felt sick to her stomach. Hot, angry tears spilled over, cutting tracks down her cheeks. She too wanted to get up, to leave the room, to put this nightmare out of sight. But she held her ground, because Elsa couldn't escape this pain, couldn't walk away from the physical reminders. The least Anna could do was stay by her side through whatever was left.
Elsa had yet to talk about what had happened. She hadn't exactly spent much time awake and coherent in the past week to talk about it, but Anna still worried that Elsa might try to deal with it all on her own. It seemed to be her sister's default move, to pretend everything was okay, to conceal what she was feeling. Anna didn't want that to happen this time. She wanted to help Elsa get through this, wanted to help her process and deal with everything that had happened.
But she was terrified what would happen if Elsa did choose to open up and confide in her, to let someone help her for once. Anna remembered the look in her older sister's eyes when she woke up that first time: panicked, in pain, and confused. Unable to draw up her normal mask, it had laid her emotions bare, the fear and desperation, the guilt. It killed Anna to see those emotions in Elsa, her older sister, who had always seemed like an impenetrable fortress. Those emotions didn't belong there, not on her sister.
Anna knew it was a selfish thought. She knew her sister wasn't invincible, wasn't indestructible. She did want to know what Elsa was feeling, what had caused such fear and desperation in her eyes. She did want to help her, wanted to stay by her side and help her through everything she was going through, no matter how bad it really was. But Anna was terrified that Elsa would open up and she wouldn't know how to glue them back together again.
The more she learned about what Elsa had gone through here, the more scared Anna felt for her sister. She worried it wasn't just the physical damage done to her sister that would linger long after they left Hasvik behind them. She knew there were other things under the surface, pains buried beneath Elsa's cool, practiced exterior that weren't so easily covered with bandages and healing balms. And they were the worst pains, the most damaging ones.
Elsa took a shallow breath, trying to steady the rapid thumping of her heart against her chest. She had been awake for a few hours now and was still feeling groggy from whatever Malthe had given her before they set sail. She wasn't sure how long she had slept—it was dark when Anna first woke her—but the sun was barely cresting the horizon. From the way she felt, it was likely she had slept through the entire first day at sea, which was fine. It meant they were that much closer to home.
Elsa laid back in bed, enjoying the quiet moment of peace, her sore muscles and lingering, painful injuries a distant blip for the moment. As the groggy feeling slowly cleared, she realized there was a warm shape next to her; her sister sleeping peacefully at her side. Elsa smiled at the sight of limbs twisted at angles only Anna would find comfortable, the small line of drool pooling on the pillow. Gross, she thought, with a twinge of amusement, before returning her attention to their surroundings. The cabin was a decent size, most likely either the captain's quarters or the first mate's quarters. The next twinge was one of guilt, knowing that someone had given up their comfortable bed for her.
She glanced once more at her slumbering sister and took the rare opportunity to slip out of bed and make her way to the ship's deck, knowing she might not get another chance. She appreciated all Anna had done and understood her worry, as well as her slightly suffocating hovering. Elsa couldn't blame her for it; if their roles were reversed, she would never let her sister out of her sight.
Just because she understood it didn't mean she had to like it, or that she wouldn't use any opportunity she got to slip out for some fresh air. She had been stuck in bed the entire time they were in Hasvik while the others prepared to travel home, and she had only traded the confines of one room for the confines of a ship's cabin. She loved her sister and knew the younger girl was trying to give her as much space as she could, but she still hovered, still worried over every little wince that crossed Elsa's face. With everything that was going on, Elsa felt an overwhelming need to escape. Even if she couldn't go very far, the salty spray of an ocean breeze would surely be more than enough to lift her spirits.
She carefully made her way across the cabin, leaning against the doorframe and catch her breath before opening the door and slipping out. She shut the door just as quietly as she opened it, leaning against it as the world executed a slow tilt. She was fully aware of the extent of her injuries, which were even now making themselves well-known, but she hadn't expected to feel so tired from simply walking a few feet. She spotted some crates stacked next to the railing and nodded. If she could make it that far, then she could sit, relax, catch her breath, and watch the open sea roll by. Maybe then she could ease this trapped, claustrophobic feeling that had been gnawing at her since she first woke. She just needed to make it to the crates.
"Queen Elsa?"
She turned toward the voice, already preparing an argument against the idea of returning to bed despite the black spots floating across her vision the longer she stayed standing. "Alarik," Elsa exclaimed, surprised to see him. It occurred to her that while her concept of time might be wonky, they hadn't spoken in days. Not since she spoke to him, requesting a private audience with Erik. Alarik had been opposed to the idea, not wanting her to be alone with the man who had a hand in the start of all this. In the end, she had outvoted him.
A crease deepened between Alarik's brows. "Should you be up?" he asked, hands raised to waist-level. His gaze darted to the door she had just exited.
"Anna's asleep," Elsa said, "and I would like her to stay that way for as long as possible. She needs her rest as well."
"Of course," Alarik said slowly, that crease growing even deeper. "But shouldn't you also be resting? Forgive my bluntness, but you were at death's door barely a week ago."
Elsa ignored his question; they both already knew the answer. She instead turned her gaze from the captain back to the crates, her initial, ultimate goal. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, calculating the likelihood of making it that far under her own rapidly fading steam.
Alarik followed her gaze, pressing his lips into a thin line as a moment of conflict played out across his face. "Need some help?"
"I can make it," she replied automatically, forcing as much strength into her voice as she could muster.
"I have no doubt, Your Majesty. But, if I may be so bold?" He waited for her nod. "This is your first time on a ship, correct?"
Elsa nodded again, leaning more heavily against the door at her back.
"It takes some time for one to gain their sea legs, to walk steadily across a rocking ship. Just earlier today, Kristoff lost his balance and smacked his face into the mainmast."
Elsa wrinkled her nose, hoping the ice harvester was okay.
"I would hate for the same to happen to you." Alarik's lips twitched. "Not to mention the fact your sister can be scary protective, and I am fairly certain she'd be more upset with me if I let you fall trying to get to those creates than if I helped you with this unauthorized escape from bed."
Elsa wrapped her broken arm around her waist. She was hardly standing and knew she would not make it to the crates on her own. Reluctantly, she nodded.
A grin stretched across the man's face, and he dipped his chin before stepping forward to offer his assistance.
He surprised Elsa by stooping low enough for her to wrap an arm around his shoulders, then looped his own around her waist. He allowed her to lean against him, giving her the support that she desperately needed while still allowing her to maintain her poise and walk on her own.
"Thank you," she breathed.
"It's my pleasure, Your Majesty."
They slowly made their way across the deck, drawing the gaze of the crew, though most had the good grace to not stare. Elsa imagined that seeing their Queen hobbled and injured, wearing nothing but cotton pants and shirt, was disconcerting. She itched with the desire to apologize to each of them for this display of weakness. It was absurd, but knowing that didn't ease the guilt currently rolling in her chest.
The walk to the crates felt torturous, and Elsa was beyond relieved when they finally reached their destination. Alarik helped her sit, though it was more of a controlled fall rather than the graceful movement she intended. She winced as the impact sent shocks of pain radiating through her entire body. She struggled to catch her breath, slumping against the crate at her back. Elsa let her eyes slip shut as she tried to ignore the dizzy, lightheaded feeling overtaking her, concentrating on the cool ocean breeze dancing across her overheated skin.
Elsa heard a scuff of boots and cracked her eyes open to see Alarik leaning against the taffrail. She swallowed. "How much longer. . ."
Alarik rubbed his chin. "If the winds keep up, we should make port in three to four days."
Elsa nodded, looking toward the horizon. "Where are we?"
"About halfway through the Dark Sea, I think. Admiral Naismith said this is the calmest he's ever seen it. It's usually a pretty rough ride."
Elsa closed her eyes and pulled in another lungful of refreshing sea air, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun on her face. She pressed a hand against the large gash on her side as it throbbed painfully, reminding her of its existence, and felt grateful for the calm waves beneath the ship. She wasn't sure she could handle a rough trip right now and sent a brief prayer to whoever was listening that the waters remain this calm for the remainder of their journey.
"It's like the sea is staying steady just for you," Alarik said with a chuckle.
Elsa didn't share his humor. Instead, a wrinkle worked its way between her brow as she considered his words. They had struck an odd chord with her, tugged at something inside that she couldn't quite put her finger on.
She dismissed the feeling, rotating her head to look over the view laid before her. She could see the shoreline stretching behind her, but to the west there was nothing but miles of open ocean between her and the horizon. A sense of absolute freedom washed over Elsa as she watched the morning light slowly spreading across the sea. A sudden glint in the distance caught her eye, and she leaned forward, placing both hands on the taffrail, the splint on her right arm knocking softly against the wood.
She squinted, wondering if the speck in the distance was an island. Then, she felt it, a pull from beyond the horizon. The siren's call was both strong and soft, alluring, promising answers to questions she hadn't asked. Questions she didn't even know she had. The pebbled beach of her dreams came to mind, except she was awake. She wondered if she could make it, if she could reach that speck in the distance, the source of this call. The sea was calm, with hardly a wave to wash her back to a shoreline miles to the east. Elsa tightened the fingers of her uninjured hand around the rough wood. The pull tugged again at her, and her magic responded in kind. It was right there.
Elsa shifted, but before she could make another move, a warm hand closed over her shoulder. She jumped, releasing a cry of shock. Frost immediately coated the taffrail under her hand and stretched across the deck under her feet. She twisted too quickly, and suddenly every injury painting her body screamed for attention.
"Whoa, Elsa, it's just me." Anna didn't step back but held her hands up in front of her.
Elsa curled forward, wrapping her splinted arm around her middle as she struggled to steady her ragged breath, her ribs protesting every inhale. The lightheaded and drained feeling from earlier crashed over her, she braced her left hand against the crate to keep from toppling over.
Suddenly Alarik and Anna were both kneeling in front of her, each with a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into their hold, letting them guide her back against the crate.
She took as deep a breath as her injuries would allow, willing her thumping heart to slow before speaking. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that."
Anna raised her eyebrows. "Elsa, I didn't sneak up on you. I called your name like seven times."
Elsa blinked. "What?"
"You weren't answering. I started to worry something was wrong. It was like you . . . weren't here, or something."
"Oh." Elsa looked back toward the horizon. The island she had seen, had felt, was no longer there. Neither was the strange pull, like it had all been nothing more than a fevered dream. The all-over throb and heavy weariness weighing her down told her that even if it had been there, and even if she knew where she was going, she would have never made it across the sea. A sense of disappointment and emptiness settled in her chest.
Anna tilted her head to meet Elsa's gaze. "Are you okay?" she asked, placing her hands on her sister's knees.
Elsa offered a weak smile. "I'm fine." Anna pressed her lips into a thin line, fear and concern still twisting her features. Elsa reached out with her good hand and cupped her sister's face. "Really, Anna. I just have a lot on my mind and not enough to distract myself."
Her sister stared at her a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly. "Why don't we get you settled back in bed and maybe find something to eat for breakfast?"
Elsa dropped her hand to her lap and looked back at the sea. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep, but there was no denying the irritating wash of exhaustion that was quickly settling over her. "Not yet?" She turned pleading eyes to her sister. Anna opened her mouth, but Elsa shook her head, cutting off her imminent argument before she had a chance to make it. "I fell like I have spent a lifetime trading one sort of cage for another. My own magic, the Sirma, Markkus, and now my injuries. Soon, withdrawal symptoms that I can already feel are getting worse." She paused, steadying her breath, trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of being trapped. "Anna, please. I just want to sit out here, in the open air, while I can."
Anna wrapped her hand around Elsa's uninjured one and squeezed softly. "Elsa." There was so much held within that one word, but Elsa stood her ground.
"Why don't you get some sleep?" she said to her sister. "I know you need it." At Anna's hesitant look, Elsa quickly added, "I promise I won't move from this spot, and Alarik will be with me the whole time." She looked up at him for confirmation.
"I'll keep an eye on her," he said.
"See? And if I need to return to the cabin, he can help me back." She knew she didn't technically have to ask for her sister's permission, but she didn't want to cause any more stress for the younger woman. This was a compromise. Elsa could suffer the indignity of being treated like an invalid, accepting help, if it meant not being confined in a room for even a few hours.
Anna stared silently for a long moment, then her gaze dropped to Elsa's hands. Elsa fidgeted with the gauze wrapped around her wrists, and caught a flash of something cross her sister's face, too quick for her tired mind to properly register.
Anna looked up, reaching out to brush a few loose strands of hair from Elsa's face and tuck it behind her ear. "Okay," she said at long last.
Elsa woke suddenly, disoriented, with a stunning pain cutting through her stomach. She curled in on herself instinctively, unable to hold back the tortured groan that slipped past her lips. She felt sweaty and sick, and her head was pounding sharply, like she'd been startled awake too soon after falling asleep. She felt nauseous. Her gut churning painfully, she squeezed her eyes shut, wrapping her arms around stomach and pressed her head back in the pillow. Elsa swallowed thickly, fighting the overwhelming need to throw up.
She was supposed to be sleeping for hours, deep and dreamless, aided by the painkillers Malthe had given her. The doctor must have just stepped out of the room. The faint light falling into the ship's cabin looked the same as it had when she took the medicine and allowed her eyes to slip closed. She was supposed to be sleeping; they would be in Arendelle soon. She would be home soon. Instead, Elsa knew only vicious pain, and home felt too far away.
