"What you got for me?" Anna flounces into her professor's office. Anna has a long history of stupid mistakes, she knows. Dating Hans, mixing rum and vodka, putting a dead squirrel in the air conditioning vent over her high school principal's office… Anna has made many mistakes, and she knows it, but Elsa has to use her magic. That's non negotiable. If that takes Anna making another stupid mistake, so be it. Elsa says magic is scary? Well Anna will show her scary...
"What have I told you about knocking?" Professor Gottle looks up. There are bags under her eyes, and an angry red semicircular bite mark on the meaty edge of her hand- still bleeding and half bandaged.
"That knocking is for wusses that didn't bring their professor an awesome ancient book thingee," Anna perches on the edge of the desk. "That looks bad. What did that?"
"I've translated the first few pages," the professor ignores the question. "It's slow going. The author has a habit of mixing in Greek when the hieroglyphs can't convey the right idea."
"Awesome!" Anna's brilliant green eyes gleam with excitement. "Can I see?"
"Sure," the professor fishes a sheaf of paper out of her satchel one handed. "I made a few copies," she explains quickly. "I didn't want to risk damage to your book with opening and closing and turning pages. It's pretty standard with old texts like this."
Anna accepts the explanation, and the loose stack of papers, with a sage nod. She reads for a moment. "Invocation of… neh… na… a spell? Really?"
"I don't see how it's supposed to work," Professor Gottle says bitterly. "I think there's something wrong with the book…"
"A spell," Anna grins broadly. "I bet… so, if you've made copies, can I have the original back?"
"It belongs in a museum," the professor says.
"It belongs to my friend," Anna replies, and holds out one freckled hand expectantly. The professor scowls, but passes over the ancient book. "Thanks," Anna grins, and tucks it gently into her bag. "You're the greatest. I've… got something to do today…"
"Yeah," the professor says bitterly, but Anna can't imagine what with. "Go on. I'll keep working on this translation."
The glass door chimes as Anna pushes her way into the cozy little coffee shop. The TV is on- it seems like it's always on. Elsa sits at one of the tables, thin hands wrapped around a gently steaming drink, clear eyes watching the news warily.
"...First arrest for a violation of the new litch laws. The spokesman for the CDC had this to say."
"We in CDC enforcement are dedicated to integrity and fairness above all else. The suspect was arrested on charges of failing to register, but we would normally give a warning, if that were the only offense. The FBI has informed us that the suspect is also under suspicion for theft of a sum over five thousand dollars, illicit firearm ownership, and illegal immigration. We at the CDC are committed to…" Anna turns off the TV. She glances at Elsa's perfect face- carefully neutral, and Anna can feel her heart breaking for the little litch.
"Why do you watch that?" Anna hurries over to the table, wraps Elsa in a firm embrace. Elsa shrugs half heartedly and Anna goes on. "Why do you do that to yourself?"
"I have to know," Elsa murmurs then, louder, "technically I'm an illegal immigrant. Pabbie said we were getting married to get me over here, but we never did get married. I like him, but not romantically."
Anna releases her carefully and sits slowly in the chair beside. "I'm sorry," she says because she doesn't know what else to say.
"There's nothing you can do about the situation," Elsa says, still neutrally. "Why are you sorry?"
"Sympathetic then," Anna shrugs and gives her best sunny smile. "There's plenty I can do. I can publish the interview I'm writing?" Elsa blanches so Anna presses on quickly, "I can make you do the magic."
"No," Elsa snaps. She's sitting up straight all of a sudden- not that she was hunched or slumped before, but there's an iron rigidity in her spine now. "You can't make me use my magic." The litch's voice is cold like a glacier, impenetrable and incomprehensible.
Anna shudders. "Maybe not," she admits, "that doesn't mean it's a bad idea."
"No," Elsa says again. There's no rage in her eyes- Anna expected rage for some reason. Just the kind of wild panic that you would normally see in a fox with its paw caught in a trap.
"You aren't going to scare me," Anna insists. "I'm not going to leave." She notices Kristoff lurking behind the counter and gives him a tentative thumbs up.
"You will," Elsa replies, but it's a broken noise.
"I won't," Anna says, and leans in close. She throws her arms around Elsa's thin shoulders. The litch flinches, and moves to pull away, but Anna pulls her into a crushing, heartfelt hug. "I'm not going anywhere," Anna releases her, stands, and steps back. "I'll prove it. Promise you won't be mad?"
"Be mad?" Elsa frowns. "Mad at what?"
"Mad at this," Anna says, and pulls her professor's translation out of her bag. "You had an off day, and I found your spell book thing, and you wanted me to hide it, and you wouldn't just let me put it back so I put it in my bag and you seemed to be ok with that, and I guess I accidentally stole it? Sorry. Anyway. I've got the book here, and I don't think I damaged it at all. Ahem." She straightens the papers, and gives them another read over. Oh god she should have practiced...
Elsa bites her lip and leans back. "That's a bad idea," she says.
"Pshh," Anna scoffs, "it'll be fine." She reaches out for the magic, and wishes again that she had time to practice. There's a shrieking noise coming from beside the world as the magic conforms to her unpracticed touch. The ancient tome had said "reach out for the power," and Anna hadn't known what that meant but somehow, through sheer force of will, there it is. Reach out for the power, as if it were obvious. Somehow, it is. You just reach out like so, not with your hands… the world seems to creak under the weight of Anna's intent. What to resurrect? A mouse in the alley, half eaten and all rotted? Anna frowns with concentration.
The magic shifts under her mind. First a whirl, like so, a great driving gear for the spell. Feed it with a trickle of power… the thousands of insects living under the coffee shop's floorboards all drop dead. The mold growing in the corner of the bathroom fades and dies. Not enough. Anna feels herself growing faint.
"Stop," Elsa says urgently but not loudly. "Anna, stop."
Anna collapses, but then there's another mind on the spell. An old mind, scarred by trauma, and burdened by wisdom. An Elsa mind. A mind suffused with magic, filled with complex little intertwined circuits of power. Elsa takes control of the spell, plugs it's ravenous hunger, and let's it dissipate. The wordless shrieking stops.
Anna squints up at Elsa. The litch is bent over her, a curtain of silvery hair separates them from the world and an expression of intense worry marrs her perfect face. "Well that went well," Anna says brightly.
"It almost killed you," Elsa says.
"Eh," Anna shrugs awkwardly. "Only a little bit."
"Why would you do something so stupid?" Elsa demands, and stands briskly.
"I love you," Anna says, sitting up.
"And that made you stupid?" Elsa growls like a caged tiger. She sighs. "I love you too. Don't you have anywhere better to be?" She scowls at Kristoff, lurking by the double doors behind the counter.
"Someone has to supervise you two," Kristoff says. "Pretty sure it's a rule or something. Two little girls doing black magic in your shop, you have to supervise them."
Elsa scowls, but it's not an angry sort of scowl. "You didn't run," She accuses. Kristoff shrugs.
"It's my shop," he says. "I'm not running from my own shop."
"I didn't run either," Anna grins weakly. She tries- and fails- to stand. Elsa whirls on her, fury in the set of her eyes, panic in the way she clenches her hands.
"You!" Elsa stands frighteningly still, momentarily lost for words. "You almost died. You fucking moron, you almost died!"
"I don't think I've heard you cuss before," Anna says, steals Elsa's words for a moment.
"Why?" Elsa doesn't move, not even to give the impression of breathing.
Anna shrugs awkwardly, tries to stand again. She's more successful this time, manages to maneuver herself into her recently vacated chair. "I needed to show you that I'm not afraid," she says.
"You…" Elsa still hasn't moved, and Anna wonders idly how many words she'll be able to get out before her lungs need a refill. "Why?" Elsa asks again.
"So you'd use your magic so you'd stop having off days so the plague police don't snatch you up so I can keep spending time with you?" Anna shrugs helplessly. "Them's my reasons."
"Why?" Elsa asks again, still no breath- Anna worries that she broke the little litch.
Anna shrugs again. "I don't know what else you want from me, Elsa. Those are all the reasons I've got. I actually thought this through a bit better than I normally do."
"Why do you care?" Elsa seems to realize abruptly that she hasn't been breathing so she takes in a few deep gulps of air and glares suspiciously at the seated redhead.
"Because I love you, ya silly old litch," Anna snorts.
Elsa blinks as if Anna had just said "because I shit rainbows," or "because the moon is made out of fish." A statement that simply does not compute. Elsa paces for a moment. She opens her mouth, thinks better of it, shakes her head, tries again. "I'm not worth it," she says at last.
Anna snorts disdainfully. "You are the bravest, most beautiful, most adorable, most hug worthy girl I've ever met," Anna blushes and barrels on. "You are worth the world and I don't care how worthless the shitheads in your past have made you feel, you are worth the world to me."
"I…" Elsa frowns. "I don't understand?"
"What don't you understand?" Anna pats the chair beside her, and Elsa sits heavily.
"Why?" Elsa says again after a moment.
Anna sighs and rolls her eyes. She leans over, tiredly drapes her arms around Elsa's shoulders, is surprised to notice that they're shaking. "I'm not going to run," Anna says.
"I…" Elsa frowns and flails her arms, she finally settles for wrapping them around Anna. "I know," Elsa says. The door chimes and the two girls fly apart as if burned. "How can I help you…" Elsa notices the auburn sideburns, the combed brassy hair, the aquiline face, "sir…" she trails off.
"Hans," Anna staggers to her feet. Elsa joins her a moment later.
"So," Hans says slowly. "This is where you've been Anna?"
"What about it?" Anna scowls, and places her shaking hands on her hips.
"Hanging out with a fucking corpse?" Hans sneers. It's not an attractive expression.
"Hanging out with a goddamn person," Anna scowls. "You are on the wrong side of history on this one."
"You're on the wrong side of the law," Hans replies. "Wesselton is changing things around here. It's about time someone returned this country to our good old fashioned American values."
"Good old fashioned American values?" There's Kristoff, abruptly striding forward like a pissed off freight train. "What would you know about good old fashioned American values? There are a whole bunch of old veterans from the Second World War who keep pestering me for information on how their hero is doing. She saved lives. She saw things that would fucking break you, she's a goddamn hero, and you have the stones to come into MY shop, and talk about good old fashioned American values? As if those good old fashioned American values wouldn't get you a cane right up the ass? Get the fuck out of my shop or I will call the police."
Hans turns slowly, a malicious smile on his too-smooth face. Before he can say anything though Anna clears her throat, rolls up her sleeves, and casually remarks, "I've been learning magic. You should leave before I set your testicles on fire."
"Is that a threat?" Hans turns back to the furious redhead.
Anna shakes her head firmly, her hair whips the sides of her face. "No," she says. "It's a word of advice, and a promise."
"I'll be back," Hans shrugs, and steps back. He gives a shaky smile, as if to insist that it's his choice to leave, and then he's gone, door swinging and ringing in his wake.
Anna jumps when she feels a pair of cool arms twining around her shoulders- Elsa, starting the hug this time? Anna smiles.
"Thank you," Elsa says quietly. "Thank you both. I don't deserve you."
"Thank us both?" Kristoff growls, brow like a thundercloud as he stares at the door. "You're thanking us both, but only Anna is getting a hug from a beautiful girl…" he forces an approximation of a playful smile.
Elsa releases Anna quickly, takes a step back, straightens her sweater. "I don't…"
"Don't sweat it," Kristoff says. He seems to think for a second. "Listen, Elsa. I'm not firing you, I will never fire you, but you might want to consider looking for a different job. We don't get many customers here, and I don't know how much longer I can keep the doors open. I just want to make sure you're ok if I have to close."
Elsa scowls. She draws herself up to her full, unimpressive height. "That's not going to happen," she says with sudden strength. "You're the closest thing I've got to family. I'm not… I'll make better coffee."
"It's not the coffee," Kristoff says. He smiles cheerfully, but Anna can see worry lurking beneath the expression just like she can always see pain beneath Elsa's perfect face. Suddenly the little lines at the corners of Kristoff's eyes look more like stress than laughter.
"Then I'll quit," Elsa says. "If you didn't have a litch for a barista, maybe…"
"It's not that," Kristoff says. "Your coffee is the only reason we're still open." Suddenly the peeling linoleum and foggy light fixtures take on new meaning for Anna and she abruptly feels bad for accepting a paycheck. "It's just," Kristoff continues, "there are quite a few coffee shops in the area. Too much supply, not enough demand."
"Oh," Anna says. "I'm sorry. You don't have to pay me to take care of Elsa…"
"I'll pay you what I damn well please," Kristoff says.
"Anna, you're right," Elsa says. "It's time I stop being such a fucking victim. Kristoff, I'm going to save your shop. Anna, you want to see magic, I'll show you some magic." Her words are strong, but Anna isn't certain there's any difference in Elsa's wounded voice. Baby steps, Anna tells herself.
"Actually," Anna says and produces Nagash's heavy tome. "I'd really like to learn magic too, if that's ok?"
Elsa nods stiffly. "Keep it," she says. "Don't ever give it away, but keep it." Anna scratches the back of her head guiltily. "You already did," Elsa says. It isn't a question. Anna nods miserably. "Don't worry," Elsa sighs. "I'm not mad. You were getting it translated?" Anna nods again. "Of course you were. It's…" Elsa trails off and shrugs.
"You aren't mad?" Anna asks.
"No," Elsa sighs. "Don't do it again, but no. It's cursed, is part of the reason. The book has one master, it lies to everyone else. The letters move and make the instructions wrong. That, and I've told you that the old Egyptian spells have problems. The ritual to make you a litch has changed to leave more of your mind intact, the spells to raise the dead are less likely to leave them as uncontrollable monsters… I don't want anyone getting hurt because they don't know."
"Oh," Anna grins hopefully. "So it's not just that I'm bad at magic? What's the other part?"
"I," Elsa looks around furtively. "Uh, Kristoff?"
"Elsa?" He crosses his arms and leans against the register.
"Can you…" Elsa motions helplessly. Kristoff sighs and goes into the back, so Elsa continues. "Anna, I told you litches bind their soul to a physical object, right? That's what makes a litch a litch, and not a zombie or a wight or a skeleton or an ushabti or a wraith or… anything else…"
"Sure," Anna frowns. "You called it a phylactery?" Elsa nods meaningfully at the ancient tome, and Anna gasps. "You're giving me your soul? Holy freaking shit Elsa, you've got to be more careful with this!"
"It used to be hidden," Elsa mutters, and Anna blushes.
"Well it should be in, like, a safe or something," Anna says. "What if it gets ripped? It should be in a Swiss Bank!"
"If it gets ripped, I stop being," Elsa gives an unconcerned shrug. Anna gasps again, but before she can say anything, Elsa goes on. "Nagash- the first real necromancer, and probably the most powerful- knew he was dying when he wrote his cursed tomes. He left them so that his knowledge would stay after he died. You didn't think papyrus would normally survive five thousand years, did you? There are so many enchantments on that old book, I don't think it could be destroyed even if you tried. I know I've tried," she says this last part quietly but continues before Anna can think over the implications. "That's why I chose this for my phylactery; I made myself a litch when I was in Dachau and at the time all I could think was that I didn't want to die. Ever."
"Oh," Anna says. She cradles the book as gently as she can. "Still… you trust me with… your soul?"
Elsa shrugs uncomfortably. "You didn't run," she says quietly. "You're an idiot, but you didn't run." She cracks a wry smile. "Besides, the book cant burn, can't tear, hell I snuck it into one of the nuclear testing sites and it wasn't even radioactive afterwards."
"You…" Anna sits numbly. "Oh my poor Elsa." The litch shrugs. "Wait," Anna frowns. "You said- twice now- that the… Egyptian… spells were outdated. How exactly did you learn magic if these spells aren't the ones you used?" Anna thumps the book's cover, then grimaces and checks it for damage. The worn leather binding seems… old, she guesses, but if you had asked her how old without telling her what it was? Anna might guess fifty years. Maybe. If it had been very very well taken care of. Not a hundred times that. Not a book that had survived an atom bomb.
AN: I hope the whole "Kristoff's shop is in danger of closing" thing didn't come too suddenly. I tried to hint at it before, but I had other things to get across that felt more important at the time and I guess I didn't really give it as much attention as it needed? Anyway...
So, a lot of you wonderful reviewers were expressing hope that Anna accepts Elsa's magic when she inevitably sees it. This isn't quite the same, but it felt more in character for the headstrong firecracker Anna is, rather than just passively not being afraid? As always, reviews, follows, and favorites are love...