Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: So, Elsa's diadem (is it even Elsa's diadem?) was inspired by three or four different crowns Zani found on Pinterest.
Written: 2019 - Licia
Despite the dimness from the fire and the snow flurry not far away, it sparkled in the light. Elsa felt her heart speed up as she studied it.
Today, it would be called a tiara; diadem is really an outdated term.
Nevertheless, it was a beautiful piece of work.
According to legend, it was carved from the ice of the last great glacier of the ice age itself, and Elsa could see that the base of the diadem appeared to be much more ancient than first thought. In fact, the entire crown appeared to be made of ice, frost and snow, woven together in a beautiful design that caught the light and turned heads. The base, woven of what appeared to be frosted branches, curved up to a point, causing the rest to curve in a graceful slope on either side. Snowflakes and crystals made up a beautiful woven pattern that got bigger the closer it got to center-
And then suddenly, it stopped.
There was a gaping hole in the center, where the tip of the bottom met, where the rest of the diadem should have been.
Almost like... like it's been... broken in half. Like... the half that fits in the center is... gone.
Her hand stretched out of its own accord, brushing against the fragile ice and snow. Instead of melting against her touch like she expected, it seemed to pulse, matching up with the beating of her heart. Elsa let out a soft gasp, as her fingers slowly wrapped around the object. Gently, she lifted it up, holding it with both hands now as she examined it, surprised to find there was more to it than she originally thought. Not as delicate as it appeared to be, it was actually strong and firm in her grasp.
There were delicate strands of what appeared to be frost woven together and hanging down in multiple loops along the bottom, some longer, some shorter, creating an intricate pattern of delicate frost and ice; there were also several individual strands of snowflakes that hung down at the ends of the diadem, as though they would rest on either side of her face were she to put it on, and dangling from the center, was a beautiful, perfectly smooth ice crystal, that appeared to be carved in the shape of dew drop. It hung down a little further than the frost, coming to rest in the center of the forehead.
It could have been Elsa's trembling fingers or the rush of realization at what she'd discovered, but soft warmth began to pool in her hands, almost as though it possessed a beating heart same as she.
She turned it around to study the back, not really expecting to find anything, but was surprised to find that the back was not exactly open as she had thought; semi-circular in its shape, but not quite fully round, and upon closer inspection, she realized why- there was a tiny clasp made of ice at the back, which meant it could be worn as either a crown or tiara. The delicate snowflakes and ice crystals appeared transparent, and yet, it appeared to be...
It's... like the kokoshnki the Russian royals wore when they came to visit on a diplomatic trip near a year after my coronation, to strengthen ties with Russia. Who had the Emperor been? Oh, right. Nikolay I Pavlovich, his Consort, Alexandra, and their children. Grand Duchess Olga was my age, and despite our different statuses and languages, we got along quite well. I'm sure, had we kept up correspondence, we would have become great friends, as Ria and I are.
She released a soft breath as she let her gaze wander once more over the headpiece, drinking in as many details as she could. Gently, she let her fingers brush over the looped strands, only to pull away at the feel of something brushing against her fingertips. With a quick flex of her fingers, she conjured another small flurry, and in the light, studied the diadem she held. Her fingers once more brushed the strands, and she caught a glimmer of what had hit her hand.
A mask.
So not only was this a diadem, but there was an attached mask that covered the upper portion of the face. Shifting her hold, she rested the diadem until the base lay against her fingers, the loops cool against her already cold skin. And then, she watched as the mask appeared within her hand, below the loops and dew drop crystal, in a gentle, raise over the eyes along the eyebrows before dipping in the center between the eyes. It appeared to be made of the most delicate of lace, but was in actuality the softest of frost, woven into a beautiful pattern of snowflakes that extended down past the cheeks and over the nose.
So, apparently the mask only appears upon contact with skin. To test her theory, she lifted the diadem, and, just as she thought the mask vanished, though she could see it each time it brushed against her skin. Must be some form of... of elemental magic... different to mine or the other spirits. Part of her wondered if the mask had to appear upon contact with skin, or if it could appear at the wearer's will.
Warmth pooled in her stomach, and her heart began to race; she itched- desperately- to try it on; to rest it within her own snow white locks and admire herself in the the reflection of a mirror. And while everything in her head screamed not to, her legs worked against her. She slid off the bed, the diadem held gently in her grasp, and made her way to the mirror that resided in the corner. It was the only sheet that wasn't ice, mounted against the wall, and she at times felt silly having it, for she cared so little for her own beauty. But right now, she was glad she had it.
She glanced at the mirror, letting her gaze rest upon her reflection briefly before she glanced back at the diadem. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and lifted her head. Her reflection stared back at her, and yet-
There was something different, something... off.
She leaned closer, blue gaze searching for the tiniest of details. And then she saw it.
She was only staring at half a reflection. The other half was not there; it was as though... as though part of a sketch had been erased, leaving it incomplete. Long blonde hair tumbled over her right shoulder in a thick braid, the dress she wore clung to her body. And then the reflection lifted first her gaze, and then her head.
Elsa's eyes widened in horror.
The woman who stared back at her- her cheeks were thinner- much too thin, and sharp, too. She could see the steep curve of the apple, the point of her chin, the slight upturn of her nose, and the wideness of her eyes.
Her eye.
That beautiful, deep, crushed pool of sapphire- so similar to the hers, to the ones Hans loved so... it was haunted, ravaged, almost starved, just like the rest of her. As though she had suffered through a thousand lifetimes and barely lived to speak about it. A moment passed before that same blue eye glanced at the diadem in Elsa's hands. She followed the reflection's gaze, before looking back up.
Try it on, and you will witness your fate. Don't do it. Her brow furrowed, and the reflection shook her head. Escape while you can, do not give it your soul. You will never be free.
She swallowed thickly. "You-" She stopped. Her throat hurt, as though she had gone days without water, as though her vocal chords were made of sandpaper, brushing against each other with each movement of her mouth. She reached up, grasping her throat, the diadem held firmly in her other hand. She met the reflection's gaze. A moment passed, as the woman on the other side of the mirror held up a hand, one slender finger going to what was left of her lips.
Shh. She glanced behind her, waiting a beat before turning back. We must be careful. It is always watching, always listening.
Slowly, Elsa nodded. Who... who are you? How did you get into my home?
A tiny smile tugged at the other woman's lips. You are not the first Elisabeth to cross paths with the river.
Elsa's eyes widened in horror, and her mouth dropped. "N-" She stopped, wincing. The Crown Princess drowned in the river. The barest of nods confirmed her suspicion. But- I don't understand-
You must get out. Escape, run, while you still can, while you still have your soul. Go back to your kingdom and your prince and your freedom. Do not follow in my path. Do not turn out like me.
Elsa bit her lip. I- I can't. Slowly, she lifted the gaze she'd lowered. The river... it has my soul, or... part of it. There is but a sliver of mine left within me. As well as part of you and the Fifth Spirit as well.
This time, it was the reflection who lowered her gaze. I know. I'm sorry. I saw you as my chance that day, my chance to escape, but I... I couldn't go through with it. It would not have been right. I could not condemn you to the same fate I suffered. Not fully. It would be cruel to. I simply wish to find peace... to be with my beloved, trapped in the forest... my Johannes...
She felt her breath catch and her heart stalled briefly. J... Johannes?
The other didn't hide the sadness, nor the minuscule upturn of her lip. Did you really think he was the first? Clearly, not. You may be the descendants of our siblings, but you are our reincarnations. You have a chance to do what we could not, what we were forbidden from doing.
Elsa swallowed thickly. Marry... bear a child... die...
Her reflection nodded, as Elsa slowly glanced back at the diadem in her hands. She had been warned not to wear it, that she would not like what she saw, but maybe, just maybe, it would show her something else. For she was not the Crown Princess, she was the Snow Queen. Reincarnation or not, their paths had to be different, they just had to be. She glanced at the reflection, before quickly lifting the diadem and settling it within her hair. The reflection reached for her, but could not move past the glass.
No! Don't!
Slowly, Elsa pulled her hands away as she stared at herself in the mirror. The diadem sat nestled within her wild locks, the loops and strands of frost and snowflakes resting where she knew they would, the dew drop nestled in the center of her forehead. Slowly, the mask appeared, hiding the upper half of her face, except for her eyes. It was warm to the touch, not cold a she would have expected, for being made from ancient ice and snow. For the briefest of brief moments, Elsa dared to believe she looked beautiful-
A couple, married by candlelight, at the hour when magic was strongest. A kiss, those precious moments as bodies slid together. The call of the river, a demand to return. The discovery- a new life growing within.
Hours of pain, the struggle of childbirth. "Get her to the river!"
"And if I lose her? If I lose them both to the river?"
"If she stays on land, they will both die! We have no choice!"
The chill of ice, water turning red, new, strong cries. The stopping of a heart. "No! You can't do this! You can't take her! Not from me and not our daughter!"
A return to the glacier; the coldest of welcomes. The strength of a spirit, too long denied a body. The sweet kiss to a captor to the captive. "Finally, you have returned to me, Spirit."
A familiar scream, a dash onto the banks. "Elsa! Please, come back to me!" No sign, just a voice calling out, forever separated by the ever present pull of the glacier.
"Hans!"
She ripped off the diadem, not wanting to witness any more. Her heart pounded in pain, and tears raced down her cheeks. No. "No! That won't be us! That won't be me! I'm not like you! I'm not weak like you were!"
The princess turned away, tears slipping down her cheek. I warned that you would not like what you saw. You must be do all you can to change it. Marry soon, but do not bear a child. Do all you can to keep from conceiving, it may be the only way to save what's left of your soul.
Elsa shook her head. "No. As much as I hate the circumstances, I want a child. I want Hans' child. I have dreamed of it, awoken to its cries in my head. It was always meant to be mine, ours. I'm stronger than you. I will bear my child and survive. That will not come true. It won't. I won't let it."
You cannot stop what is predetermined.
"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do." She choked on a sob, going to the bed and hastily returning the diadem to the box. Shutting it again, she returned it to her bag and then held the bag to her chest, turning back to the mirror. "I'm not you. You were weak. I'm not. I'm the Snow Queen of Arendelle for Gods' sake! I alone am stronger than a hundred men! I alone can break the frozen heart!"
The reflection met her gaze. Can you? Do you really believe you are so strong, you can break the frozen heart of the river and stop the madness of the queen?
Elsa lifted her chin, trying desperately to ignore her body's trembling. "Watch me."
And without another word, she fled her palace, calling the Nokk to return her to the tribe, the familiar words of the ice harvester's shanty chasing her flight from the river.
... Beware the frozen heart.