Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: When you go counting the chapters after this one in search of the first sex scene...

Written: 2019 - Licia

She struggled, as those facing death at the hand of another are prone to do.

Do it! Do it now! A little more! And soon... soon she will be out of the way... soon you can cast the little harlot out into the river where she belongs...

"H... ans..."

Now! More pressure! More!

But the fear in her eyes stopped him, and he quickly pulled back. Elsa scampered up, putting a small amount of distance between them, hand going to her throat as she painfully sucked in air. "What... was... that..."

"I... I don't know." He whispered, gaze never leaving his hands. These hands, that had so lovingly carved Elsa's staff over the last several weeks, that had helped Ryder with the reindeer, and Honeymaren with the firewood and played with the children to keep them entertained, that had tenderly held Elsa a multitude of times over the last several days...

What are you doing? Why did you stop? You almost had her! He shook his head. No, that's not me! Not anymore! I could never hurt her! I love-

She watched him with distrust in her eyes, her hands never leaving her neck. "Hans-"

You love her? You don't know what love is, boy! You're a child who's found a fancy toy that doesn't belong to him, a toy he's going to have to give up! She doesn't belong to you, little princeling, she never did! She belongs to me, to us! She is bound to serve the river and only the river, for all eternity! It's her destiny!

"Hans?" He looked up, tearing his gaze away from his hands to meet hers. She hadn't moved, and though there was a slight fear in her eyes, it was quickly being replaced with worry. "Why... why did you do that?"

"I don't know, Elsa. I... I honestly don't know." He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "It... it was like... like I couldn't control myself... like something else had... had taken over..."

She turned away, choking out a muttered reply. "Like a voice in your head, demanding you?"

"Yes. Exactly like that. It... it was this... this deep, dark..."

"Malicious voice?"

"It kept..." He closed his eyes. "It kept telling me to kill you. That it... that you... belong to it... to... to the river... whatever that means-"

"Ahtohallan." He furrowed a brow as his eyes opened. "The river is Ahtohallan. It's a... a frozen glacier," She sighed, gaze searching for the shawl she'd left here. Finding it, she snatched it up, wrapping it around her shoulders. "When I was little," She tightened her hold on it, Hans watched as she almost gently caressed it, like a mother caressing her child. "my mother used to sing a song about a special river called Ahtohallan, said to hold all the answers about the past, and what we're a part of." She looked up at him, and suddenly, she seemed twenty years older than she actually was.

"A lullaby?"

"The lullaby is about the river. It... holds a warning... to those who dare enter its frozen depths." She sighed, burying her nose in the shawl, imagining Iduna's arms around her. "'Sleep my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found... in her waters, deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you.'" She blinked, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks. "'Dive down deep into her sound... but not too far... or you'll be drowned...'" She choked on the last word, looking up as Hans reached over and gently lifted her chin with his finger.

"You drowned, didn't you?" His voice was soft, tender; there wasn't an ounce of the malice and hate that had been in his eyes moments earlier when he tried to strangle her. "But not completely."

"I went too far. I was determined to discover what had truly happened the day the mist fell, and I... I stumbled into a place I should never have gone into. I discovered the answers I was looking for, alerted... Anna... but..." She stopped, pulling away.

"It took your spirit, but not your mortality. Not your humanity. That's why you're not fully a spirit. You're a half; the portion left is your human side, but the spirit side- your soul, is gone, replaced with something else, isn't it? With... this... spirit of the river, which is what makes the pull stronger. The spirit side is what the voice is calling to, isn't it? The part of you that's magical. It brings up the river-"

"And tells me I must return. That I belong to it. That I am bound to it. I felt... half alive that day, when I stopped the water from drowning Arendelle... not fully alive and not fully dead... like it wasn't me... like part of me had been... been replaced by... by the river... like I'm meant to serve it and only it, and it... it gets... angry when I return to the Northuldra, like a jealous lover." She stopped, something clicking in her brain. "It... calls me 'princess'..."

"But you're a queen. Regardless of whether you gave up your throne or not, you're still a queen. You will always be a queen."

"That's what doesn't make-" She stood suddenly. The sudden use of her legs, combined with the few brief moments she'd been unable to breathe sent her stumbling, and Hans was soon on his feet, catching her.

"Elsa!" She rested against him, catching her breath.

"Must have... cut off too much... blood to my brain..." She muttered jokingly. "Try not to do that, next time, Hans." He tightened his hold on her waist, and after several minutes, she felt well enough to stand on her own again. Then, without another word, she ducked out of the hut, Hans following behind.

"Elsa, where are-"

"We need to talk to Yelena-"

"Wait," He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "We?"

She looked up at him. "Yes, we. Why are you so surprised?"

"It's just... you've spent all this time keeping me out of the loop,so forgive me if I'm surprised you want to include me in the loop this time." Her blue eyes narrowed, and she scowled.

"Trust me, Hans, the only reason I'm including you is because of the voice we're both apparently hearing now. If it wasn't for that, I'd still be keeping you out of the loop." She pulled away and continued across the camp towards Yelena's hut.

"Trust you? Kind of hard to do when you've been lying to met at every turn!"

"Did you ever consider that maybe I've been lying to you because I want to keep something for myself? Something that doesn't include you? Something besides that stupid tinderbox, and that stupid curse and that stupid prophecy? Something that doesn't remind me day in and day out that I've fallen in love with you!"

"Just because you love someone doesn't mean you-" Hans stopped, uncertain he'd heard correctly. "Wait... what?" Elsa buried her face in her hands when she realized what she'd said. "Did you just... did you really just say that..."

"Oh, Gods!" Elsa slowly ran her hands down her face, mentally beating herself up for letting the one thing she'd been trying so hard to deny slip out. It had taken her days- no, weeks- to even admit to herself that what she was feeling for the disgraced Southern Isles prince was actually love; and even then, her limited knowledge of such an emotion was stagnant. She simply knew that being around him made her happy, that the sight of his smile and the sound of his voice made her heart quicken and her stomach knot, that each touch and kiss thrilled her beyond measure, and that the thought of him leaving the camp to make his own life somewhere else terrified her, for she felt that were they to separate, her heart may not be able to take it.

She'd searched her books and sought answers from the great philosophers of Greek and Roman origin, turned to Asian philosophy and even studied the great philosophers of French and British birth. Victoria, that dear, dear friend of hers ruling over that tiny cluster if islands thousands of miles away from her own lost kingdom, had even gifted her a set of Sir Francis Bacon's philosophical writings, of which Elsa had simply stared at her upon unwrapping the gift over tea during her visit.

"'History of Life and Death', 'The New Atlantis', 'Wisdom of the Ancients', 'Masculine Birth of Time', and the 'Meditationes Sacrae'... Victoria, I am flattered but... books?"

Victoria giggled, reaching over to take her hand. "You are the famous Philosopher-Queen of Arendelle, aren't you, Elsa? Or am I confusing you with someone else?"

"No, I am. I just-"

"Then I think you shall like this. Sir Francis Bacon is one of the great philosophers of Britain. He was the adviser to our fair Queen Elizabeth."

"The famed Virgin Queen." Victoria had nodded, giggling as she had sipped her tea. "Said to be one of the greatest monarchs of the modern age."

"And while I would not dispute such a claim, I would dare to make a claim that we both are equal to her, wouldn't you say?" She had taken Elsa's hand at that, lacing their fingers together and kissing Elsa's knuckles in a tender gesture of friendship. "Our reigns are not yet done; we both have many, many more years to reign over, lands to expand, treaties to make and advances to push. I am not very philosophical- that is more Albert's forte- but I know a kindred spirit when I meet them. And you, Elisabeth Bekkrdalr of Arendelle, are perhaps the most kindred of spirits I have ever met. I wish us to be great friends, for the remainder of our days and our reigns, and should you ever need, should Arendelle ever require assistance in any way, for anything, I would hope you would one day call upon me, and I swear to you, Britain will come to your aid, no matter how far apart our countries may be. This is my royal decree, as queen and ally to the Kingdom of Arendelle."

Elsa had simply smiled at the touching gesture, pressing a kiss to Victoria's own knuckles. "Thank you, Ria." She had paled upon realizing the shortening of her host monarch's name, but the other woman had simply grinned.

"You are very, very welcome, Elisabeth," She had made a face. "No, that won't do. And I am correct in assuming that everyone calls you 'Elsa'..." She sighed, thinking, before an idea came to her. "Bet." Elsa had started, testing the shortening of her birth name upon her tongue, before a tiny smile had tugged at her lips. "But just between us. We don't want anyone else knowing who we are. We may be rulers of great countries, but we must have something for ourselves, yes?"

Elsa had agreed, and returned to Arendelle a week and a half later, with the not just the writings of Sir Francis Bacon tucked under her arm, but a newly-forged alliance and friendship that she would treasure for the rest of her life.

And in the last weeks, she had scoured Sir Bacon's writings, always coming up empty in regards to any mention of love or the emotions that had been plaguing her every time she thought of Hans. Though Victoria had been right, he was a one of the great philosophers; he just couldn't give her the answers she sought. She had even tossed Bacon's book on the ancients across the library one night in frustration, and had nearly grabbed a pen and jotted of a letter to her dear friend. Oh, Ria, how did you know that what you have with Albert is truly love? How can you be certain?

She looked up at Hans now, terrified as Victoria's voice rang in her head- the same answer she had given that long ago day during Elsa's visit, when she'd asked about how the young queen could be so content in an arranged marriage. "I could not bear the thought of life without him by my side. That is when I knew what I truly felt was love." Victoria had sounded so sure of herself, so confident- something Elsa knew she did not possess, for she had lived such an isolating, stunted existence for so many years.

"I didn't mean, I really didn't mean-" But he grabbed her, tugging her into his arms. Her sapphire eyes swam with tears, and he reached up, gently brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Hans, I didn't-"

"No, Elsa! You don't get to admit that you're falling in love with someone and then take it back. If I'm not taking it back, then neither are you!"

Their raised voices could wake the dead, as they certainly woke Yelena; unaware they were at her door, the two had continued to argue, even after the chief lifted the flap of her hut. As she stepped outside, she was pleasantly surprised to find Hans with his hand buried in Elsa's hair, his mouth on hers, his other arm wrapped tight around her waist. Knowing Elsa, she had most likely resisted at first, but now, obviously, she'd given in, if her hold on his shirt was any indication. After several moments, the older woman cleared her throat. With mirth in her eyes, she watched them slowly break apart, turning to find themselves the object of her gaze. Elsa opened her mouth to speak, and Hans swallowed thickly, but didn't pull away. After a moment, Yelena crossed her arms over her chest.

"I awaken to your arguing, only to find you standing out before my hut sharing a kiss- something you could easily do within your own hut," She glared at Elsa. "There is obviously another reason you are standing out here." Then, without another word, she lifted the flap, and after a moment, the pair stepped inside. Once all three were inside, Yelena let the flap fall and turned to them, gesturing for them both to sit. After a moment, they did so. The older woman noticed how Hans made a point to keep his arm around Elsa's waist so she couldn't move away. "Now, what could be so important, you would wake an old woman up with your arguing?"

The pair shared a glance, before Elsa finally spoke. "Yelena, is it..." She sighed. How did she even go about asking such a thing? "Is it... is it possible for the river..." She bit her lip. "for the river to be malicious?"

The older woman furrowed a brow. "I don't follow, Elsa." Her voice was soft; she was speaking to her niece, not the mythical spirit in command of the elements.

"Ahtohallan." Elsa tried to explain. "Could it be... malicious? I've been... I've been hearing this voice, and it's been telling me to return to the river. That my purpose is to serve it and only it, that I am bound to it."

"You are not bound to anything, Elsa. Yes, you are the Fifth Spirit, but you are not bound to the river, nor even the forest. You may come and go as you please-"

The younger woman opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, unsure of where to go from there. Her teeth slid out to grasp her lower lip, and Hans sighed. "Yelena, it's not just Elsa who's been hearing this voice. I... I've heard it to." The older woman's dark eyes moved to drink in the young prince. "Earlier in... in Elsa's hut, it... it told me to..." He swallowed, glancing at Elsa, who reached up and nervously rubbed her neck. "it told me that she belonged to the river, and that I needed to kill her, because she was... bound to serve the river for all eternity, that it's her... her destiny..."

Yelena could see the tears in his eyes; and after a moment, she stood. "Where are you going?"

She turned back at Elsa's voice. "Stay here. I need to fetch Vanja."

"Why? She's just the healer, isn't she?"

The chief smiled softly at the young prince's confusion. "She's not just the healer; in our culture, the shaman is gifted with the ability to heal, and therefore, her main focus is the health and well-being of our tribe. That does not mean she gives up her true gifts, it just means she reserves them for when they are truly needed. Vanja will be able to discern the voice you both hear, and the intent behind it."

"How?" Hans had spent his entire life relying on medicine and science; though he'd spend the last several weeks- possibly months, he wasn't sure- with the Northuldra, he doubted he would ever fully understand their acceptance of magic- despite the woman who sat beside him being able to herself control ice and snow. A moment passed, before Yelena returned, resting a hand to his head before leaving.

"Only Vanja will be able to truly explain."