Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2019 - Licia
Her head whipped around at the familiar voice; her black eyes sought out the owner, a touch of the blackness within her heart began to recede. Hans? A moment passed, as someone picked their way through the icicles, and soon, he was standing before her, as beautiful as the night he'd stood across from her at their wedding. She could see the blood that stained his shirt, above his heart, and knew that what Fifth Spirit said was true.
Stolen her last, dying breath from her and then taken his own life, too. Left their daughters, newly born out of her womb, as orphans. All in an attempt to perform a Soul Threading, when he had not given up the sliver of his soul the river demanded as payment-
Though she knew Honeymaren would do her best to raise the girls, Elsa could not forgive him. Her husband was no longer a selfish man; he had changed so much, grown so much in the year and half he'd been with the tribe, with her, become a loving and attentive husband and father- often to the point where she had wished to smother him to get him to leave her alone for a few minutes- a hard worker and a trusted, unofficial member of the tribe. But despite all the growth he'd gone through, she could not forgive him for abandoning their children...
"You."
Her growl was soft, deep, filled with rage. The touch of blackness that had receded returned, and she stalked towards her husband's spirit- for only those who died within the Dark Sea, no matter if it was on the banks or in it, ended up at Ahtohallan. He watched her, saw the blackness of her eyes, and realized something was majorly wrong. His wife stood before him, her long white hair still braided, her belly still before her in all its beauty, but her eyes, the skin of her face, the heartbreak that rolled off of her like waves-
A moment passed, and everyone- within the ice and without it- watched as a long, jagged icicle appeared in Elsa's hand. She stalked slowly towards her husband, determined to return the pain he'd caused her in any way she could.
"You stole my children from me, followed me into death when you should have stayed behind so our girls had at least one parent! You selfish bastard!"
She quickly closed the gap between them-
"Elisabeth, stop!"
Elsa turned slowly at the sound of her mother's voice. Iduna and Agnarr stood unable to reach their beloved daughter physically, constrained to the ice as they were. They could only try their best to talk her down from the ledge she was balanced on.
"You don't get to tell me what to do! I am not your little girl anymore! I am not your child!"
They watched, as, with a scream, the veins in her throat, along her arms and legs began to throb, the veins of her face becoming darker with each moment until they protruded from her skin like the roots of a tree. The ice nightgown she wore began to fall apart, the veins beginning to appear black on her delicate white skin. In Northuldra culture, a Fetch was the spirit of a woman scorned- either by betrayal, loss or heartbreak- and was recognized for the black eyes and veins that protruded from her skin, both of which stemmed from the blackening of her heart- and who's sole purpose was killing men in attempt to sate their own heartbreak and pain. A first kill- be it fellow spirit or human- was irreversible, and the woman could not come back from it.
Once the pulsing of the veins had settled to a dull throb, she continued towards her husband, the ice of her nightgown turning black as a reaction to her magic. She tossed the icicle from hand to hand, testing the weight as she got closer to her husband.
Iduna knew the stories, had cuddled with her sister as a child when the wind rattled the huts, for it was said the scream of the wind off the Dark Sea were the Fetches calling to lure their victims. Which was why she feared so far her daughter; Elsa's heart was good and pure, which was the worst kind; for a heart as pure as Elsa's to blacken as as quickly as it had, meant that the betrayal she felt was of the worst kind- done by someone she loved deeply, someone who had once promised to never caused such pain. Hans' unintended betrayal, his attempt at Soul Threading, had blown up in his face, turning on not just him but his wife, and sending her spiraling towards a bleak and painful future filled with nothing but continued heartbreak. And if a Fetch killed another spirit-
Iduna knew that Fetches were the only spirits who could kill other spirits; and if Elsa succeeded... if she succeeds, it will be the point of no return; I will never get my daughter back.
"Gitta, don't! This isn't you! You're stronger than this!"
"He stole my children from me. Took the last of my life, and didn't bother to stay for the daughters I had struggled for hours to birth for him!"
"Lisbet, we know you're angry-"
Elsa stopped, a couple feet from her husband, whirling back to face her father. "Angry? You think I'm angry? I'm not angry, Agnarr of Arendelle, I am furious! You do not know what he stole from me! What he stole from us! From our girls! I hate him!" Her screams echoed through the ballroom, the depth of her screams and rage causing the pillars about the room to shake and collapse or crumble. She turned back to her husband. "He will pay for what he did to me, to our daughters."
Hans stood his ground, watching her. He had served in the Royal Navy of the Southern Isles, it wasn't in his nature to turn tail and run. Regardless of the battle, regardless of the enemy, he would stay and do all he could to overpower them- even if that enemy was his own beloved wife.
"Elisabeth, listen to us." Iduna spoke slowly. "You don't understand what you're about to do, what you're becoming." She took a deep breath. "Fetches are dangerous spirits; they kill only to satiate their own pain, but it never works, because the pain done to them can never be undone. They go about murdering men with the belief that they will eventually find peace, but they're damned, Elisabeth. Do you hear me, baby girl? Damned, to walk the earth for all eternity, stealing lives as theirs was stolen, with no care for the people left behind. They are unholy angels, not allowed into hell because they are too dangerous, and not allowed into heaven because they have innocent blood on their hands. That is not what Papa and I want for you! It is never what we wanted for you!"
Elsa turned back to her husband. There was not much Hans could do; his wife was stubborn, and strong when she chose to be, but this... this was something else. This was something he'd never encountered before, though he knew the stories of the women who lured men to their deaths into the depths of the sea; often attributed to mythical mermaids, the handmaidens of Demeter, turned for their failure to find Persephone. Only they were called something entirely different in the Isles-
It hit him like a ton of bricks that, due to his own, miscalculated actions, his wife had become this... this...
"Siren."
Elsa slowly glanced at him. "You cost me my children." She quickly closed the distance between them.
"Lisbet, this is not what we wished for you! In all our years, we never wanted you to feel this heartache! Elisabeth, you can come back from this, we know you can! You're stronger than your pain! We know you are!"
"I'm tired of being the strong one." She ground out, grabbing the front of her husband's shirt and raising the icicle. The tip gleamed in the light, inches from his throat. Hans met her gaze, searching for a hint, a sparkle, a glimmer, anything that said his wife was still in there. "I'm tired of losing the people I love. I didn't even get to name my daughters, before you stole me from them. It took me so long to bring them into the world, it hurt so much, the pain was so horrible, it was so hard... and so long... and instead of letting me go peacefully... instead of accepting it... you took even it from me. You stole my death from me... you took any peace I could have found... you did this... you caused this... you turned me into this..."
Tears glistened in his eyes, as he understood that she was right. She had already suffered so much, that when she'd started to bleed out because of the placenta, she'd already accepted her fate. The single shake of her head as he'd cradled her in the river had been her apology, her attempt at telling him that it was okay, that though she would forever be tied to the river, to Ahotohallan, she would carry him with her; that the short time they'd had together, their growing relationship, their brief marriage, her pregnancy, the birth of their girls- no matter how difficult it had been- had all been worth it, and she could go with peace in her heart.
She'd been ready and he, unable and unwilling to accept it, had stolen that peace she'd found when he'd drove the blade of the knife into her heart, in a selfish attempt at a Soul Threading. "You are responsible, for all the pain I have felt, you selfish, manipulative bastard."
"I know, Elsa, and I'm so, so sorry. I thought..." He stopped, taking a deep breath. "I saw you bleeding out... I felt you dying in my arms... I couldn't let you go. I wasn't ready... we'd had so little time together... and I... I thought a Soul Threading..."
She pulled him closer, lowering the icicle from his throat to where his still heart resided. "A Soul Threading only works if you sacrifice a part of your own soul to the river. But you would never do such a thing, you selfish son of a-"
"I would for you."
She stopped, the words making her pause, and slowly, she looked up. "What did you say?" The rage and pain still rolled off her in waves, but the question was soft, near silent, for their ears only. For the briefest of seconds, Hans thought he saw a glimmer of something in her eyes.
"I would sacrifice my entire soul if it meant bringing you back."
"You're just saying that-"
He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I couldn't let you go; I can't live without you, Elisabeth. If there was even an ounce of a chance that I could get you back, I would do it. I would give every last drop of blood in my body if it meant you could return to me." She lifted the icicle, but he saw something flash in her eyes, and he knew- more like hoped- he was getting through to his wife. "I would strip the flesh from my bones and pluck my own eyes out if that's what was needed to bring you back, to give you back to our girls, Elsa." Before she could react, he grabbed the wrist that held the icicle; she tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold.
"Hans." He kept his gaze locked on Elsa, but kept his ears tuned to his mother-in-law. "We have to get her back. The only way she'll return to us is..." She swallowed. "an... an intentional act of true love." She choked on a sob, and Agnarr pulled her close.
"It has to be done on the one who caused her pain, that's how we can get her back." Agnarr finished for his wife.
"Let go of me!"
"No."
"You don't get to touch me! You don't get to do anything anymore to me! You killed me, you stole me from our babies! You decided my death, when I was ready to go! I was ready and you didn't let me! You stole what little peace I had found! You stole it from me! Just as you stole everything else! My kingdom, my crown, my country! My virtue and my innocence and my heart!"
"I didn't take your crown or your country or your kingdom from you, Elsa." She choked on a sob, and he watched as another flash crossed her face. "I took your heart and your innocence and your virtue, and gave you mine in return." She struggled again, trying hard to keep a tight hold on her anger but the longer she looked into those green eyes she loved so, the more she felt the small part of her soul still inside her begging to return.
"I said let go!"
"And I said, no." Slowly, took her wrist, moving until the icicle rested just above his heart. "Come on, Elisabeth, do it. I know you want to. It's your desire, isn't it? To kill to satiate your pain? Go ahead. I've caused you enough pain since I walked into your life, it would be just and well deserved revenge." She pulled her hand back to drive the icicle forward, but stopped.
"I... can't..." Her scream shattered his heart, and the icicle shattered on the floor at their feet. She pulled away, burying her hands in her hair, screaming in agony as the blackness in her heart constricted and then began to slowly recede; this was perhaps more painful than becoming the Fetch, for it forced her to acknowledge her feelings, her pain, something Fetch didn't do. Hans watched his wife, saw the pain she was suffering, and made his decision. He hurried to one of the rows of icicles.
"What are you doing?" Iduna cried, pressing herself against the ice. Hans glanced back at her.
"If she won't do it... then I have to."
"Hans-"
"If I can get her back, I'll do it. I need to... I need to try!"
Fifth Spirit watched this new development with interest. She knew better than to interfere with the spirits than was necessary, and so stayed back. Her job was to usher them into the afterlife, not stop petty squabbles between them. And since Elsa was clearly so determined to become a Fetch... So looking up to see Hans returning to Elsa's side with a broken icicle in his hands-
She narrowed her eyes, moving to monitor the situation more closely.
An intentional act of true love- an intentional act of sacrifice.
Elsa knew all about sacrifice. She had spent her life sacrificing herself for others- thirteen years in isolation, her throne, her very kingdom, her life, her body, her heart- some well received, others not so much. She had done everything for others and very little for herself. Yes, Elsa knew sacrifice. But this... killing her husband to bring her back, she wasn't willing to do.
She had collapsed to the ice of the ballroom floor, holding her head and sobbing at the pain. Without a word, Hans knelt before her, reaching up and taking her hands. "Elsa, listen to me, look at me. I know you're in there, you wouldn't have stopped yourself if you weren't." He took her hand, wrapping it around the icicle and turning the tip to his heart.
"No... I can't..." She choked on a sob and he nodded.
"Yes, you can, Elsa, I know you can. You have to. Okay? As long as you're okay, I don't care what happens to me. I trust you." She shook her head, but he caught her chin in his hand. Her eyes were still a deep black, but the veins that protruded had since started to retreat back beneath her skin. "Charlotte, my love, trust me." He held her black-eyed gaze, so that she knew he was serious. And without another word, he forced her to drive the icicle into his still heart.
Fifth Spirit watched. The only way a spirit could die was if the area where their heart was was pierced; something about the heart still being receptive to pain, even after death. She knew that Elsa had given a sliver of her soul to the river that long ago day when she'd frozen in the depths of Ahtohallan-
She tried to pull away, but he held firm, wincing at the perceived pain, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he held her chin in his hand. "I love you. Remember that."
Black tears trailed down her cheeks, and she shook her head. "No... Christian... I love you..."
Fifth Spirit, watching in silence, knew that eventually, his spirit would completely fade away; it was the only way to bring a woman back from her transformation as a Fetch, if the one who had caused her pain was another spirit. She watched Elsa cradle him in her eyes, her black eyes locked on his, before she leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss.
The former queen pulled away, black tears continuing to drip from her eyes. "You're mine... Christian... my husband... you're mine... and I'm yours... You belong to me and I belong to you." Through her tears, she reached up, caressing his face in her hand as he began to fade away. "Love you... I love you... I love you, so much... I love you... you're mine... you're mine... belong to me... love you..."
And then she leaned down, pressing her mouth once more to his, as the black tears that had trailed down her cheeks began to pull away, as the blackness began to leave her body, collecting in a swirl high above them, before exploding in a burst of white.