Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2019 - Licia

Still there, they're all still there. It's all still there.

She gently slid off the Nokk, patting his muzzle before making her way towards what had once been the gypsies' camp. The bodies had not been touched; they lay decomposing slowly in the cool weather. At first, she wondered why the Northuldra had not come and buried them, given those that had died proper rites and burials, but then she remembered, that this was not Northuldra land; this was further east. Though they could pass through it if needed, they could not stay for long, because it belonged to another tribe; the relations between the two were civil, pleasant, though not enough for travelers to be allowed to stay within their lands for long.

But evidently, the gypsies had not known that.

From the looks of things, they had been crossing the land, and decided to settle- for how long, it wasn't known, nor important at the moment- in the valley, unaware they were settling in tribal land. Slowly, picking her way through the bodies, she looked for anything that might be a clue as to how Hans ended up with the gypsies. Cooking utensils, clothing, walking staffs, instruments and the like were scattered about; wagons were broken up and destroyed; a couple were left standing, the one Hans had been pinned under still lay on its side where it landed after she'd blasted it with her ice.

The stench was near unbearable, but Elsa knew not to attempt to bury them. As the Fifth Spirit, it was her job to keep the elements in line, not escort the souls of the dead to the afterlife. She couldn't help feeling a knot of grief for those that had died, however, especially when she passed by a woman, cradling a little girl in her arms, both long passed over to the other world.

Death comes for us all, sometimes younger than others, but never quick. You know that first hand; your parents' deaths were long and torturous. They suffered as their ship went down in the Dark Sea. She turned away; it was a question she struggled with constantly now. Her parents had died, and the realization that they had been trying to cross the Dark Sea to find answers about her still weighed heavily upon her mind, and always would, no matter the years that would pass. But even more so than her guilt in her parents' demise, was the question of her own- had she truly died that day, when she'd jumped down into the depths of Ahtohallan?

"Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far, or you'll be drowned..."

Her mother's lullaby warned of death for the overly curious. And Elsa, as brilliant and starved for knowledge as she was, had gone too far, casting aside her mother's warning in order to learn the secrets of the past. And she'd found them- or, some of them. Sins of the past, were more like it.

But she knew that there was so much more that she hadn't found, hadn't uncovered yet, and she needed answers. She wouldn't stop until she had the answers she sought. Taking her father's last words to heart, she had to keep going. No matter if Ahtohallan itself seemed against her ever burgeoning curiosity.

Her own quest for answers would have to wait; she needed to find out what had happened here, and how Hans had ended up with the gypsies in the first place. She thought back over what she'd learned that day, when she'd found Hans- no, when the voice had called her to him, she corrected. Bandits, he'd said; bandits had done this, attacked the camp, and apparently slaughtered everyone, leaving him alive yet pinned beneath a wagon. Right off the bat, Elsa couldn't tell what had been taken and what hadn't; gypsies had no discernible wealth, they lived off handouts and scraps, living a very nomadic, wandering existence, always moving from one place to the next, never setting down roots.

She also knew, from studying the history books she had in her library, that many in the medieval period believed gypsies to be unbaptized heathens, only good for stealing and deceit. So Hans fits right in with them then. She quickly shook her head, casting the nasty thought aside. It wasn't her place to judge the people of gypsy blood; from what she could see, they were a peaceful people, who chose a wandering existence, shirking all modern comforts. They were a people who wished simply to be left alone. Like the Northuldra.

She stopped her searching, the thought too loud in the quiet of the valley as it rang in her head. While not the same, her mother's people had chosen to live in peace, far away from Arendelle and other 'civilized' kingdoms. They lived a contented, peaceful life, a settled life, living in harmony with the elements of nature. And in her two short years with them, Elsa had learned so much- not just about her mother, but her mother's tribe. Her tribe.

Though she possessed the blonde hair and blue eyes of her Arendellian father, she was a mirror image of her mother, Iduna, who came from one of the oldest families of the tribe. Iduna, who shared a special bond with Gale. Iduna, who risked her own life and saved her enemy when the fighting broke out, and then escaped the forest with him before the mist rolled in, trapping those inside for thirty-four years. Iduna, who kept her blood hidden until just before Elsa had been born. Iduna, who had been the daughter of the next chief, and granddaughter of the one who had been slaughtered by her paternal grandfather-

So you have every right to be here; the Northuldra are your people, your tribe. You are, essentially, their princess. She sighed; she had only learned that last detail on her last visit into Ahtohallan. It had been a shock, to discover that her mother- Queen of Arendelle by marriage, was actually Princess of the Northuldra by birth. Until she'd disappeared that long ago day thirty-six years earlier. So, by right of just her birth in general, Elsa was Princess of the Northuldra. That didn't include her magic or her role as the Fifth Spirit. It was completely separate. Make sure to remind Kristoff to add that to your list of titles next family game night.

She turned her attention back to the carnage around her, picking through everything and searching for anything that could give a clue as to what happened. After two hours of searching- she hadn't realized she'd been at it for two hours, until she felt the sun begin to beat down and glanced up, seeing it directly overhead- she finally came across something that could have been useful. As small and lithe as she was, she took the opportunity to crawl into the overturned wagon she'd freed Hans from.

Though it looked small on the outside, inside it was quite good sized. If it weren't for the fact that it was on its side, it would have been truly lovely. From her place half in the overturned caravan, she could see a sleeping nook at the very back; conjuring a small ball of snowflakes so that she could see by their light, she realized that the nook was strewn with beautifully decorated blankets. There were utensils, a couple instruments, shoes, a deck of cards, a basket of vegetables... It was evident that gypsies lived well, despite their nomadic lifestyles. Something brushed against her head, and slowly she looked up, only to find herself facing what appeared to be some sort of strange glass sphere, decorated with gems and gold chain and dangling from a similar gold chain; something sweet wafted out of it, and she breathed deeply for a moment.

Sage.

After a moment, she crawled fully inside and began looking for anything that could give her some answers. As she moved towards the sleeping nook, something caught her eye. It took her a couple moments, as she tried to pry open what appeared to be a drawer or cabinet in one side of the sleeping nook, but it was stuck. Something told her that there was something inside it, something important, that had to do with the slaughter of the gypsies, Hans and how he ended up with them. She couldn't describe it, she just knew.

It briefly crossed her mind that she could blast it with ice, but then she thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was damage the entire wagon, regardless of whether the gypsies who owned it were dead or not. She was not that type of person. First rule of nature, respect it. Live side by side with it and respect it for what it gives. Could she honestly say that a caravan was nature? It was made of wood, which came from the forest, and at one point, that wood had been trees that had lived and breathed. Elsa wouldn't go so far as to say that trees had souls, but as the Fifth Spirit and the Keeper of the Balance, she had gained a new respect for the forests she lived among.

After working on trying to wrench the drawer free for several minutes, she gave up, looking around for something she could use to pry it loose. She rummaged around for several minutes, before finding a small knife near the kitchen area, and grabbed it. She rammed the blade into the wood, wriggling it firmly. With a grunt, she pushed down, letting out a soft gasp as she finally felt the drawer begin to loosen. After several minutes of annoyed struggle, it finally came free, jutting out and slamming into her stomach. She let out a grunt of surprise, sitting back on her butt among the chaos of the caravan. Taking deep breath, she righted the drawer, and looked inside.

A brow furrowed.

It wasn't anything fantastical, not that she was expecting anything of that magnitude, but she was expecting something more than just a simple carved wooden-

Box? A box? That's what was hiding in this drawer? How anticlimactic.

Realizing that she couldn't see for the lack of light, she held the box to her chest and made her way out of the caravan, back into the light. She made her way to the Nokk, who stood waiting patiently for her. With a glance at the horse, she knelt down, laying the box on the grass at her feet and letting herself study it.

It was beautiful, now that it was out in the light. It was of medium size, with gold hinges and a gold clasp to keep it closed. The wood was a beautiful greyish white, and there was a delicate carving of a five diamond pattern in the center with an eel wrapped around a crocus at the top of the design shooting out from the center diamond. Cautiously, Elsa reached out, brushing her fingers over the unfamiliar symbols. No, not unfamiliar- the golden crocus is Arendelle. But what is the eel?

She knew she'd seen the eel symbol before, but she couldn't think where. Quickly, she wracked her brain for any mention of heraldry; she'd studied it, her father had made sure she grew up knowing the heralds of each country, and their significance. Her eyes closed, as her brain pulled up images of the heralds of each country. Eel... the brown eel is a type of fish... found most commonly along the coasts of the south, but particularly in the...

Her blue eyes snapped open and she gasped, suddenly remembering where she'd seen the eel before. Without another word, she grabbed the box and then climbed back up onto the Nokk. Holding it tight to her chest, she nudged him to go, before she stopped and looked back. A moment passed, before she reached out and waved a hand. Instantly, several sheets of ice appeared, covering each body left in the open air protectively. That way no one who came through could go about raiding the corpses. She glanced at the caravans left, and did the same to them, before spurring the Nokk back to the camp. It was a small favour, but one she didn't mind doing for the dead.

Halfway to the camp, she veered the Nokk towards the river, and got off once he'd stopped. The horse glanced at her, and she nodded; he walked towards the river, glancing back at Elsa. "When I decide to return to Ahtohallan, I will call you, my friend."

The horse snorted and tossed its head, bowing to her; she returned the bow and watched as it leapt back into the river. Once he was gone, Elsa took a seat on her rock, settling the box in her lap. She trace the design on the top with shaky fingers, before reaching to open it. However, she found it wouldn't open. Several minutes passed as she tried to get it open, to no avail. A sigh escaped her throat, and after a moment, she decided it was probably better to put it away than keep it out in the open. It wasn't that she didn't trust those in the tribe, but she really didn't want to have to explain how she'd gone poking around the death site and essentially broken into a ransacked wagon. With a wave of her hand she made the pouch at her waist just a little bit bigger, turning it into a bag. She quickly wrapped the banner around the box and then returned it to the bag, adjusting so the strap lay across her body. Then, with a soft sigh, she stood, making her way from the river towards the camp.

The walk was nice, the sunshine warm; Gale whistled by with an air of happiness, and Elsa laughed. Soon, she could see the camp in her line of vision. She stopped, a worrisome thought tugging and creating a crease between her brows as the corners of her mouth turned down. Right. Hans.

Suddenly, her ice palace seemed a whole lot more appealing. Without a word, she turned, stalking back towards the river, nose in the air. So she was still upset at discovering it was Hans she'd saved; she was allowed to be upset- he'd nearly beheaded her, once upon a time! And she refused to face the scolding tongue of Yelena in regards to her avoiding the camp. Not today. She could go one more day without staying with the Northuldra. With any luck, by the time she did return, Hans would be moved to another hut and she could have her home back. At that point, that was all she hoped or; it would be too much to hope he'd be completely gone by tomorrow, given how badly he'd been injured.

With a sigh, she knelt down by the river's edge when she reached it, reaching in to swirl her fingers within. "Hey, Nokk. It's me." Before Elsa could pull her fingers from the water, the Nokk was standing before her, waiting patiently. Without a word, she climbed onto his back, spurring him towards the Dark Sea.