Author: For Jelsa Week 2020, Day 3: Tragedy. MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS. Rating this M for the subjects this delves into (mental illness, suicide, trauma), just to be safe. These are topics that are very personal and important to me. I'm so sorry it's rushed towards the end. Ran out of time to flesh things out as much as I'd like. Happy Jelsa Week, snowflakes.
Sør-Trøndelag, Norway (New Years, 1862)
5:30 AM
My sweet Elsa,
I feel my mind going. I feel myself losing my grip on reality again and I cannot make you go through another one of these awful times. Neither you nor our dear, sweet Agnes. I can't find any other way to escape it. I don't think there will be better times if I let myself go on like this. I can't go on the way my father did, spending his last years in utter torment.
My nightmares keep getting worse. I wake up in a cold sweat and I can't breathe. The pictures haunt me all day until I fall back asleep. Then it starts all over again.
You have given me everything since we exchanged our vows. The greatest happiness, the purest love, the highest joy. You are not to blame for my failures as a husband and father. I don't wish to hurt you. I know that with me gone, you'll flourish. Agnes too. You have been so patient, so compassionate, the most perfect wife, mother, and human being.
All I ask is that you don't give Agnes her letter until she's much older. Please. I'm having trouble just writing this. Tell her how much Daddy loves her, how much he'll miss her, and give her hugs and kisses from me every day and night. She is our greatest creation... Tell her how proud of her Daddy is.
I wouldn't have made it this far without you. You've kept me alive. You made me whole. My Snow Queen.
Always, always with my love,
Jackson
It was not even dawn when Jackson stood up from his desk in the study, folded up the letter, and sealed it inside an envelope. He labeled it Elsa and set it next to the one labeled Agnes.
He went outside into the heavy snow, carrying with him only a lantern. Jackson was thirty-eight years old, pale and thin, and wore an overcoat that was much too big on him as he plowed away from his home in the countryside. He moved with purpose, his destination clear in his head. That was the only clear thought he had left.
Jackson reached the embankment of the pond. It was frozen. He had just taken his daughter and wife ice-skating on it days ago. The ice in the center was smooth and thin, and so he always warned them to stay close to the shore. He had spent years ignoring the voices, but finally, it was time to obey them.
He placed one foot on the ice, then the other. He stiffly moved forward and he heard a crackling beneath him as the ice began to splinter. He wasn't quite far out enough yet, but he knew he was close. He could turn back if he wanted... And part of him did.
But Jack knew that he couldn't. He shouldn't.
This is what is best.
Jack turned back towards where his home was... He didn't want them to see him. He wanted their last memory to be of him happy, of kissing them good night.
The ice spiderwebbed outward even more as he pressed his foot down a little heavier with his next step.
Jack startled when he heard fluttering over his head. He saw a flock of birds racing across the sky... The moon looked so beautiful. As he let this image carve itself into his brain, Jack took another step, putting all of his weight into it.
The moon played on the ice's surface... So beautiful.
The ice gave way.
Myklebustdalen, Norway (April, 1842)
8:18 AM
"Flowers! What a beautiful morning!" Elsa Lillegård couldn't help singing as she approached the meadow that was blooming with life. She had waited all winter to see her favorite florals again. Yellows and purples and pinks littered the field. Yellow flowers were Elsa's favorite; they reminded her of the sun she had been missing since winter began—weeks could go by without the daylight in sight and she would find herself missing the warmth of Sól.
Elsa had just turned nineteen the December before. She was tall and blonde, with skin so fair one could almost see her veins. No matter how much time she spent in the sun, it could never touch her. Her skin remained as white as snow, and her lips red as blood.
Elsa plucked a few flowers from the field, creating her own personal bouquet to bring back home with her. Her village was rich with lawns, trees, and gardens. When she arrived home, Elsa placed the flowers around the house, creating a much happier environment that was more suitable for spring. She sighed, satisfied with her work, then prepared breakfast.
It was best she begin her chores now... After all, they had company arriving later!
Very important company.
Her parents had gone into town to grab a few last-minute things for the luncheon they'd be hosting, but Anna, her sister of sixteen years, was still asleep. Though she didn't mind working alone, Elsa had a thought, wondered...
"Anna, can you bring me some milk?"
Anna was still in bed. She blearily called back, "Milk? For what?" Then she remembered. "Shit! I forgot." She jumped out of bed and put on her slippers. "Are we baking something for them too?"
"I just thought of it. We'll make them krumkaker."
Anna winced at her. "Do you really think they're the krumkake type?"
"Even if they're not, it'll look like we thought of everything." Elsa pushed Anna towards the doorway. "Now come on. I don't have a lot of time and I still have breakfast to make!"
Anna groaned and slipped on a poncho; frosty air was still an issue this time of year in Norway. "What if they don't show up?"
"Anna, they will. Don't you know that they're gonna be our..." Saying the words out loud made Elsa's head spin and she couldn't finish. She checked to make sure the eggs she was frying weren't burning. "It's important that we make a good first impression."
Anna looked in the small mirror and lifted her fingers to adjust her auburn hair. "I'll be back in a few, then."
...
Bjørgvin, Norway
6:15 AM
Before the sun was up, Jackson Overland appeared from upstairs. He was greeted by his mother.
"Oh, good! There you are. How was your sleep?"
Jack shrugged. "Fine." He helped himself to some coffee on the table.
"No breakfast? We'll be traveling a long way, you know."
"It's only four or five hours." He'd traveled much longer distances from the many times his family had moved. His father's work as a mayor across multiple towns required much traveling in his childhood. He was used to long carriage rides, sometimes lasting days. They didn't travel much anymore now that it was just him and his mother.
"You should eat something." His mother suggested in a voice more pleading than anything. "Please. Fruit? An egg? Something?" Jack didn't answer her. He was eighteen, now past the age of obedience. "Will you promise me that you'll eat lunch?"
Jack smirked at her. "Cross my heart." He proceeded upstairs.
"Have you finished packing? We're staying the night there."
"Of course I have." He lied. He'd use the next few minutes of being alone just to finish getting all of his things into a trunk. Truthfully, he didn't want to think about the long trip ahead of him. The traveling might be the easier part, it was his destination that eluded him. He was to meet the woman he was to marry.
A woman he knew nothing about other than her name: Elsa Lillegård.
His mother was trying to veil it, but she was charged with a quiet excitement of starting a new life. She had been looking forward to this since the arrangements had been made a year ago. She had yearned for a big family. She imagined herself as being married until her twilight years with three children, and six or ten grandchildren.
But here she was, a widow with only one son.
This marriage could only do them good, she hoped. Their inheritance would help out a working-class family, and in turn, Jack could have a place of his own to start a family with. Jack hadn't protested much when the decision was made, but his mother noticed he gave her the cold shoulder more than he ever had before.
Jack was prone to states of isolation and silence... It reminded her of his father; he too was a quiet, solemn young man when she'd met him.
7:08 AM
The Overlands' luggage was loaded onto the carriage. Miss Overland was waiting outside the estate for her son. How was it still so brisk and cold in April? The wind alone could chip off the skin on their faces.
"Jack, darling! We can't wait much longer!"
Jack was shivering despite wearing layers of clothing. He buried his hands into his coat pockets and sauntered across the green towards his mother. She seemed to be scrutinizing his appearance, as she always did. "What?" He couldn't help but bite.
"Nothing. You look nice."
Jack said nothing and he got inside of the buggy. He'd try to sleep on the way—as his mother would constantly badger him, sleep was important. His doctors had often recommended he get more sleep, or at least enough to function. Of course, his doctors recommended a lot of things that had not helped Jack at all.
His life had been doctors and doctors... Ever since his father died. And no doctor helped him before that dreadful day.
Right when the cart took off, the woman put her hand on her son's knee. "Jackson."
"Hm?"
"It's going to be beautiful."
What was? The wedding? The luncheon? His bride-to-be? Their lives?
Sometimes she was too optimistic for her own good. She needed to be to keep herself sane. Jack didn't answer. He rested his head to the window and closed his eyes.
...
Myklebustdalen, Norway
12:30 PM
Every surface of the table was taken up with plates of food. It was difficult for the Lillegårds to not put inordinate pressure on themselves when they had such a critical appointment. Normally they were the laid-back, dressed-down sort of type even with company over. But today was all about presentation.
Elsa especially had to be polished like fine porcelain. Pretty enough to be presented as the future Mrs. Overland, but dainty enough to remind them that she was still a single, innocent maiden. She checked herself in the mirror. She worried her pale complexion might make her look sickly.
Knowing that her marriage would be saving her family from this difficult life was what motivated her. She would have to get along well with her new husband whether she liked him or not. Her own parents were wed under similar conditions, but her father had come to enjoy the simple life when he was young and naive, and so he took his wife here to the countryside not long before they had their daughters.
Elsa didn't know a life other than the one she lived out here in nature. She sometimes worried about what living in the city would be like. The dizzying crowds, violent sounds, and jolts of activity at every corner. How could one stand it? She would have to adapt somehow.
"Elsa!" Called her mother, Iduna, who came running in from outside. "I think I see a carriage coming up. Everyone! Look presentable!"
Her father, Agnarr, chided, "We're all right here. You don't have to shout."
Anna snickered and started to make the plates.
Elsa's heart trembled, but she reminded herself that this was a good thing. It was for her family, not for herself. She stood by the front door and looked around. Maybe the flowers were a bad idea. It might make them look too undomesticated. Families like theirs had trimmed flowers in vases from their gardens... Here she just had wildflowers strewn about.
Iduna opened the door wide open once she saw the familiar face of the widowed Overland step out of the carriage. She walked outside to greet them.
Panic overtook Elsa. Disguising it the best she could, she vanished into her room for one last touch-up on her appearance. Anna saw the worry in her sister's face and she stealthily followed. She watched her sister fix hair in the mirror, "It's funny to see you so nervous. You're never this way."
Elsa sighed. "Anna, my life's about to change."
"All of ours are." She reminded and stood next to her in the mirror. "I wish you didn't have to move so far away." Anna lamented and rested her head on Elsa's shoulder.
"Look at it this way. You'll have your own room."
They heard the chattering of voices in the other room and Elsa blanched. Together, the sisters peered from around the corner to get a look at Elsa's betrothed. Anna raised a brow. "At least he's handsome." She whispered. Elsa would have to agree, but his looks weren't what she wanted to rest on... Not that it mattered.
This entire exchange wasn't about wants.
1:45 PM
The Overlands were polite enough to try something from almost every plate on the table. Miss Overland was more pleasant company than Elsa had been expecting. She'd expected someone more demure and somber—she knew of her husband's death just three years ago, so to see her so bright and chatty was a delightful surprise.
Elsa would often shift her gaze over to her fiancé, who had been rather silent. He kept his head low, with a sadness Elsa had not expected. The sadness was strangely beautiful. She was beguiled by him.
"You know," Miss Overland's voice caught her attention again, "my Jackson is very lucky. He lives many different lives."
"Mom..." He mumbled, embarrassed.
"The life he's living, and the lives of the books he writes."
Anna looked perplexed. "You're a writer?"
"No... Just a side thing."
"It's been a hobby of his since he was small. I wish I still had the stories he wrote when he was a child," she went on, eager to brag about the boy she was so proud of. But Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up from his chair. He quietly asked Agnarr where he might find the lavatory.
Elsa watched the brooding young man step out of the room and go in the complete opposite direction in which Agnarr had pointed him. He was going outside.
Elsa stood up, "Pardon me, but would you like some fresh milk?" She offered Miss Overland.
"Oh, no. Don't go through the trouble. You all must've spent hours cooking this lovely food."
"Please. It's no trouble."
And as Elsa trotted outside with a bowl, she spotted Jackson already at the stables she was headed towards. He seemed to be trying his hand at petting one of their horses.
"Hey," he whispered, "it's okay. Let me see you." He held its hand out and waited to see if it would come close. The horse was uninterested in him. Elsa grinned and set the bowl down.
"You'll have better luck if you give her a treat."
"Oh, is it a her?"
"Yup. That's why she's being skeptical." They looked at each other for a brief moment, addled by their own nerves. "Here." She reached down to grab some of the treats they kept for them and passed it to him. "She should change her tune now."
Jack held out his hand to her nice and flat, and the horse came close, taking the food from his palm. Jack winced at the feeling of horse slobber but was quietly pleased that he got her to like him.
Elsa reached her own hand out to pet her nose, "See? Good girl."
There was a tense silence between the two, both unable to look at each other properly. Their faces were beet red from a combination of bashfulness, terror, and the fact that they had both been taken by the other's beauty almost at the same time.
"I didn't mean to walk out like that." Jack confessed. "My mother can exaggerate sometimes."
"My parents like to do the same. According to my mother, I'm the best there is at sewing, cooking, and horse-riding in town."
"A woman of many talents."
"If you can even call those talents... Are you a writer?"
"I... No. I mean, I write occasionally; I haven't had as much time as I used to. I don't want to be a published author or anything."
"I still think that's brilliant."
"It's not as useful as knowing how to cook... I could use some practice with that."
"I guess I'll have time to teach you." She whispered.
Jack was going to make a comment, but they could hear someone holler to them from a small distance away. Iduna called them back to the front steps and asked them if they were going to finish lunch. Elsa replied, "Actually, I think we'll go for a short walk."
Iduna studied them both for a moment but quickly gave them her consent.
Elsa took Jack around the small marketplace. He looked out of place wearing clothes more suited for walking down grovel roads on busy streets. "I bet this is nothing like the city."
"It's not, but I've been all over. I never stayed in one place for long when I was a kid."
"I can't imagine. It must've been stressful."
"No. It was kind of exciting... I think the stress is what took a toll on my father." He added in a de-facto matter. Elsa shuddered and stopped in her tracks. Jack looked at her worriedly, "What is it?"
"I... I never said. I should give you my condolences. About your—"
"Don't." Jack interrupted briskly. "I've heard that enough." Elsa bowed her head, glaring at her feet like she was ashamed. Jack shook his head. "Anyway, it's not something that bothers me. It's been years."
Elsa had heard that dealing with loss got easier over the years, but for him to brush it off so coldly filled her with questions, none of which would be appropriate given the circumstances. Elsa looked around. There was a school near where Elsa lived, and there were children all out on the playground.
She watched them intently. "It's going to be strange when we leave... I don't know what life is like outside of here."
Jack smirked, "Well, you're in good company. I have no idea what married life is like myself."
Elsa grinned at him, but shook her head, "I mean in the city... I never saw myself living there. I don't know how well I'll do."
There was silence. Jack took Elsa in, full of feeling for the young woman he was to marry in a week's time. Elsa looked back at him, her worries resolved as soon as she saw his gentle eyes. Gentle, but very, very tired. Like something kept him awake all day and night.
"I look forward to getting to know you." Jack whispered, surrendering to his overwhelming emotions.
"Me too." Elsa smiled.
Bjørgvin, Norway (Christmas Eve, 1842)
11:58 PM
"Can I open it now?" Elsa begged, trying to grab the gift out of Jack's hand.
He kept it just out of her reach. They were sitting by the fireplace, the Christmas tree adorning their living room. "It's not midnight yet! Wait just a couple of minutes!"
Elsa crawled atop him, quite the persistent type. But Jack managed to buck her off, and roll on top of her. "You just might end up on the naughty list, m'lady." Their noses touched.
"As naughty as you were last night, darling?" She sniggered. Then he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
So far, married life was bliss. How in the world were two souls so lucky to have been in a perfectly arranged marriage? On the night of their wedding, Elsa's terror went to giddiness and wonder at what came next for them. A life fully lived together with someone so charming, intelligent, and witty... but also mysterious and strange.
Jack only seemed like an open book. There was much to be discovered even after eight months of marriage.
For example, what they found in themselves the night they first bedded one another was utterly baffling to both of them. Jack found that he liked romance and Elsa found that she liked teasing and playfulness. No wonder they complimented each other!
His tender kisses could make her melt as though she were snow and he was the fire burning directly next to them. She looked back up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. She cupped his cheek in her hand, "I might need you to keep me warm again tonight." She whispered. Elsa peered over his shoulder. "What's that?"
He looked to see what she was talking about and Elsa snatched the gift box from his hand.
"You!" He laughed and tried to retrieve it but she instantly tore off the wrapping paper to see just what was so special that she had to wait until now to open it.
It was a necklace made of real silver. The charm at the end of it was a snowflake. "Jack... How much was this?"
"Don't worry about it." He tried to hand-wave it, a bit embarrassed. The two tried to be conservative with their money. Most of it went to their bills and keeping themselves warm and fed. Elsa was already living comfortably in a bigger house than she'd ever lived in, but she and Jack didn't care for material things.
That wasn't the only reason she was fascinated by the gift. The snowflake had meaning behind it. It was his little nickname for her, ever since it started to snow in November and he saw her outside, standing beneath a bald tree that was frozen... She was taking in the last sliver of sunlight of the season. She looked as if the cold couldn't touch her. All of that and her pale, soft skin combined, he called her his Snow Queen.
Elsa looked guilty. "I... All I got you was this." She pushed over a neatly-wrapped gift, which was a new set of journals for him to write in. The kind with smudge-proof paper. Jack didn't like to talk about his writing with her, but he was more willing to admit he enjoyed the hobby, and even sometimes let her sit with him while he was in the heat of a new idea.
He cooed, "Thank you, darling." He kissed her cheek. "It's perfect." He tried to ease her worries, but it was clear by how she scrutinized the necklace that she felt like she'd underperformed for their first Christmas together. Jack knew the perfect gift. "You know what? I'd love to see you with it on." He nuzzled her neck. "Maybe you can have it on while we make love tonight."
Elsa perked up a little, tickled by the sensation of his lips brushing over her neck. That sounded perfect after all.
2:03 AM
Afterglow. It was a feeling Elsa would never tire of.
Lying next to her lover naked, donning only her new, shiny necklace, was the only way she wanted to start her Christmas morning. She was nestled in his arms, prickled from the cold air that was difficult to escape even in heat-sinks that were cities. She brushed some of the bangs of his dark hair out the way so she could see his face. He was close to sleeping, but Elsa didn't want him to stop brushing his fingers up and down her shoulder. She kissed his forehead, "Hey." She whispered. "Stay awake."
"I'm trying..." He grumbled, eyes closed and lips slightly parted.
She kissed his nose, the corner of his lips, his jaw, "Don't sleep... Don't sleep... Don't sleep..." His lips twitched upward in a small grin and he let out a hum. Try as he might, he was too exhausted. Elsa was only teasing. She got comfortable where she lied. "Good night, my darling."
Christmas Morning, 1842
11:15 AM
Elsa sat across from Jack in the study, both enjoying a quiet brunch together. They had some chocolates, gingerbread cookies, and lingonberry krumkakes. Elsa set her book down and plucked a gingerbread cookie from the plate. She dipped it into her coffee and watched her focused husband. He'd woken up with almost crazed inspiration and retreated immediately to his new notebooks.
There was a pleasure in his eyes as he studied the blank page. Elsa smiled and watched him; how beautiful it must be to be able to put words together the way writers did. She would try her hand at it, but writing just didn't call to her as reading did. She could get lost in words while her husband could create them. If only he'd let her read his work.
Jack muttered the first sentence aloud to test how it sounded. Elsa could just barely hear, "Standing there..." But then he finished silently, She knew at once just how impeccably beautiful the world was. She loved the sunlight, Bjørgvin, this moment of December.
"You working on a masterpiece, honey?"
Jack snorted, "Just a short piece. You're the inspiration."
Intrigued, Elsa set her mug down, "Oh, am I now?"
"That day... When you were standing under the old wisteria tree and I called you my Snow Queen. I haven't been able to stop seeing you. This portrait of a woman who's wise and gentle... but also lonely."
Elsa stood up and took a step forward to his chair. "Well, I'm far from lonely." He made an inviting gesture and she sat down on his lap. "I do like 'wise and gentle,' of course." They snuggled together, listening to the firewood crackling. It was a lovely, grey Christmas morning. "Were there any other writers in your family?"
"Um, not that I know of. Not professionally, anyway."
"Maybe you'll be the first." Elsa cuddled close, "So tell me, why is your heroine lonely?"
Jack looked at the paper, not entirely certain himself. "She doesn't know. She thinks she's content with being alone... But she's just now discovered that she wants someone to share her life with." He glanced at Elsa; the story was not about her, but about himself.
Elsa saw his empty cup and asked, "Would you like more coffee?"
"Please." He came close and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.
Spring, 1843
3:15 PM
A year into their marriage was when Elsa finally asked Jack, "Dearest... How did your father die?" She'd been fighting her wild curiosity for the past twelve months.
She had waited for him to be in a good mood, and they'd just had a lovely walk through town together. Jack was removing her shawl for her when she'd asked. "Where did that come from?"
"I just... Earlier when we were talking about our parents, you were telling me about how your father could be rather distant. You said sometimes he would go days without leaving his room. It makes me wonder is all."
Jack hung his cap and coat on the hanger by the door and sighed, "It's not as dramatic as you're thinking... He had a tumor. We tried to get it treated, but every doctor turned us away... They said to remove it would only prolong the inevitable. It was a slow, painful death... A death he didn't deserve." There was bitterness in his tone, venom for the physicians that refused to treat him.
Elsa blanched. "I... I'm sorry."
"It's my father you should be sorry for. A mayor that cared about his town, turned away by the doctors he helped made sure got paid enough." He scoffed.
"Jack,"
"Elsa, please." He grimaced uncomfortably, "I don't need you feeling sorry. That was almost five years ago. I've gone through the grieving process." Jack could see that she was worried she'd soured his mood, so Jack threw in, "He would've adored you. You two have a lot in common, actually."
"How so?"
"You're both always buried in your books. All my father would do in his spare time was read; he's the one who taught me how, actually. Most kids get read nursery rhymes to bed, my father read me The Iliad and Shakespeare." He chortled.
"So a love for literature does run in the family." Elsa beamed. She'd expected Jack to have a better reaction than the disgruntled, somewhat pensive look he had. She cleared her throat, "So, when will our families be visiting again?"
"Uh, in about two weeks." He went into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. "Are you excited?"
Elsa followed. "Of course I am. Anna's beside herself. It's all she's been talking about in her letters. I bet your mom can't wait to see you again."
He simpered, "She had me for eighteen years. I'm sure she needed that break."
"No." She came behind him and hugged him around his waist. "I'm sure she misses her little boy." She nuzzled the nape of his neck, "Do you think one day soon... We'll have our own little boy?"
Jack couldn't help the smile that peeled on his face. "Maybe... Or even a little girl."
Summer, 1843
2:30 PM
Elsa was still sifting the flour to make her cake when there was knocking at the door. If that was her family and Miss Overland, then they were early! They were expecting them at four! Without a second to wipe the powder off her hands, she rushed to the front door, hair back in a messy knot, and her apron on over her dressing gown. And there was her sister, her parents, and Jack's mother. It felt like ten years had gone by—seeing them filled her to the brim with emotion Elsa hadn't been expecting. Elsa hugged and kissed her mother, father, and sister, all laughing. She then reached for her loving mother-in-law and kissed her cheek.
Jack had been hiding in the study all morning... He didn't seem all that eager about their visiting company, even though it was his idea to invite them to stay for a night. Well, specifically, he'd said that Elsa's family was more than welcome to stay... it was his own mother he was reluctant to have over. It baffled Elsa; it had been just the two of them for five years, so she presumed that Jack and Miss Overland would be close.
So many shared secrets and memories...
Anna begged Elsa for a tour of the house, and though hesitant to leave Miss Overland alone in the drawing room, she insisted she let them look around. She knew her son to be more to himself when it came to big groups of people. As soon as the Lillegårds and Elsa exited, Miss Overland saw her dark-haired son standing around the corner.
"Jackson." She smiled.
"Is it the end of civilization as I know it? People who say they'll be here at four arrive at two-thirty?"
She rolled her eyes. "Good God."
"Barbarians, all of you." He was smiling as he said this. He came forward and let her kiss his forehead. She'd forgotten how tall he was. Like his father... Tall, slender, sad.
"How have you been sleeping?" She inquired.
Jack frowned. "I don't see you for a year and that's what you ask me?"
"I'm just wondering. You look tired. Have you kept up with your doctors?" She asked him in a hushed voice, knowing their in-laws were still nearby.
Jack couldn't believe this. "Doctors..." He scoffed.
"Jack," she tightly gripped his shoulders, "have you stopped seeing them? You know it's important! Remember your headaches?" 'Headaches' weren't what Jack really got, but it was what he and his mother called his old... 'spells.'
"I don't get them anymore."
His mother looked surprised, "So... Are you saying living away from our old home has been good for you?"
"I'm saying, Mother, that you're early and it's time for lunch." He picked up her luggage for her. "Now let me show you where you'll be staying."
8:00 PM
Luncheon wounded up being dinner, as cooking and baking took longer than expected with the family all chatting and visiting. The Lillegårds were impressed by their daughter's lovely home and were even happier to see her thriving with a husband that had been a stranger only a year ago.
The evening went on pleasantly, but they were tired from traveling and wished to retire to bed early. As Miss Overland was unpacking her suitcase, Elsa came into the room with a cup and saucer. There was something sorrowful about her body language, Elsa thought. She greeted her with a smile, "I thought you'd like some tea."
"Oh, thank you my darling." She touched her cheek as if she were caressing the face of her own daughter. It was Miss Overland's curse to love so strongly, to love so easily. It was what made her heart so much easier to break. That's why Jack had made his heart into steel.
"I just want to let you know, sometimes Jack gets restless and he goes to his study to write." She said all of this with a soft smile, but Miss Overland felt a chill as she spoke. "So if you see a light coming from the doorway, don't worry. The house isn't on fire."
The woman sighed and set down the tea on the table. "You know, Jack's father used to write."
Elsa's brows shot up, "Did he?" Jack had never told her this.
"Yes... He used to spend days locked away in his study, sometimes without eating. If one of us would try to disturb him, he'd throw us out of the room. It wasn't his work he was so preoccupied with, you see. It was..." She looked at Elsa as though she was afraid to betray the trust of her only son. But something told her Elsa would keep quiet about this. "He was not a healthy man. I mean, he was in great physical condition... But there were times where his moods would... flare up. Like the wind blowing against a flame. He could be the most perfect, loving husband and father you knew... Then other times, he didn't want to see anyone or speak to anyone. Sometimes he would have fits where he would throw and break things."
Elsa's mind was spinning as she shared this information that not even her own parents knew. Only one thing made logical sense to her, "It must have been the tumor. It—"
"Tumor?" Jack's mother said, bewildered.
"Your husband. He died from a tumor. Perhaps it affected his mental state."
She was shaking her head. "He never had a tumor... Is that what Jack told you?"
"Well, yes." This was absurd; Elsa never imagined Jack would lie to her over something that had happened years ago. Something he never had any control over.
His mother took a moment, but she choked the words out, "His father... He jumped out of a window. It was the window of a three-story house... Jack saw it." Elsa's blood ran cold. "He was only fifteen... He walked inside and his father looked at him but didn't say a word. All I could hear was Jack screaming when it happened."
Elsa was pale with disbelief. How could her husband, who was now more than a dear friend to her, keep this all to himself? Did they not promise to love and trust each other on their wedding day?
His mother was tearing up. "He... Sometimes, my husband would say there were voices. He had voices in his head telling him things, sometimes terrible, awful things. I think he knew something was wrong... He couldn't help himself. Something makes me believe he did it for our sakes... He gave us everything in his will."
Elsa couldn't respond. She stood there, immobile and shaken.
"Elsa, tell me, what is Jack like?"
Elsa was stunned she would even ask. Didn't she know her own son? "He's nothing but good to me! He's wonderful. He doesn't hide in his study like you think. Sometimes he just gets so busy he loses track of time."
She looked relieved, "Good... He used to tell me sometimes he thought he could hear things. Like his father's voice calling his name over and over. I assumed it was just the shock of what happened but..."
"But...?"
"He— Sometimes Jack told me he could see his father watching him from down the halls. That he'd tell him to do the same, terrible things his father's voices told him to do."
Someone knocked on their door and the women froze. It was Agnarr, "Elsa, did I hear your voice in there?"
"Yes! I was just saying good night."
"Could you please show me where you keep the towels? Your mother wants to have a bath."
"I'll be right there."
When it got quiet again, Jack's mother came close to Elsa, "My dear, please listen... This stays between us. I beg of you. If Jack didn't tell you on his own, then he must not have wanted me to tell either."
"I—"
"If anything ever happens, you write to me. I know every doctor in town. I can have him referred."
"It's okay!" She took her hands. "I think Jack's doing better. All of that happened right after his father died, didn't it?"
His mother was silent... This went on as recently as the months before the wedding.
12:15 AM
Elsa was the one to lie awake that night. She peered over at Jack, who was flat on his back, deeply asleep. It was hard not to look at him differently... Did he dream about that day? Did he hear those voices telling him 'terrible things?' Perhaps it was why he liked to keep his mind occupied with writing. What if that had also been his father's way of coping? Were the 'voices' in his head where he heard his stories?
Elsa crawled over and lied her head on his chest. He grunted sleepily and started to stir. "Jack?"
"Mm?" His eyes blinked, but he was hardly awake.
"...I love you, dearest."
He put his arm around her, "Love... you too..." And drifted off again.
November, 1850
7:00 AM
"Jack! I'm running out to do some errands." Elsa called from the foyer.
Jack woke up abruptly in his bed. "Hm? Oh, all right!"
"Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm fine!"
"All right. I'll be back in about thirty minutes."
Jack heard the front door open and shut, but Elsa wasn't on his mind. He had a first sentence and he had to be quick to write it down. To his study he went; now full of used notebooks Elsa had gifted him over the years.
He whispered to himself as he wrote, "I did not know that the voice, which I had believed to be my illness, was that of my own."
The voice. It had followed him for years. Jack was almost twenty-seven, and the voice sounded like it hadn't aged at all since his sixteenth year. Sometimes it liked to repeat itself like a pestering little bug that burrowed in his head. Others it was just the sounds of crackling, like ice splintering beneath his feet. Jack couldn't tell whether the voice was simply his own thoughts or the same one that had plagued his father.
There was a vase of flowers beside him whenever he wrote. Even after all this time, Elsa loved flowers. Jack was often buying her bouquets as a small gift just to say he loved her—there didn't have to be any special occasion. They livened up the room, she would say. But with autumn nearing its end and winter poking its ugly head out, the flowers would have to wait for a few months.
As Elsa walked around the marketplace and shops, she found herself rather weary and disinterested. Bjørgvin had once been exciting and new, but now she was as inert as the puddles of rainwater she walked across. She missed her vast, green meadows, reading by the trees, endless blue skies.
Jack was well-accustomed to it, and Elsa had thought she'd acclimated well... But lately, she found herself longing for a rural life again. Maybe it'll be inspiring for Jack. He could still write, and I could tend to animals like I used to. It would be beneficial for Jack's health too... Ever since she had that talk with his mother, she kept a close eye on Jack's behavior.
So far, if Jack were anything like his father, it was rather subdued. Yes, he liked to be alone whenever he wrote, and got annoyed when he was interrupted... But no fits. No bursts of insanity. Just... Melancholy. Endless sadness Jack couldn't overcome not even on their happiest days.
But city life stressed him out too. Sometimes the crowds would suffocate him and Jack would feel like he was losing breath. Elsa would have to pull him aside to help him pull himself together.
Elsa was thinking to herself as she shopped that she would have a talk with Jack... Maybe it was time to move back to the country. It would be quieter, simpler... and a better place to raise a child. A child they'd yet to even conceive.
11:04 PM
In the study, a pool of light shined from the lantern as Jack was staring blearily at his stacks of papers. Elsa cracked the door open and Jack lifted his head. "What?" He asked sleepily.
"Are you coming to bed?"
"I want to finish this page."
"You can barely hold your head up." Jack didn't answer her. "Honey, please. You need your sleep." She was starting to sound like his mother. Her voice often came about too. Away from her eyes, Jack's brows knitted together in frustration. "Darling, come... Maybe I have a little something to tell you good night." She hoped that would encourage him. Two adults in their late-twenties still held the libido of teenagers. Sometimes the promise of love-making was enough to convince him, but he seemed less than enthused by the offer.
The notebook sat in his lap, and he had not even been writing. Only thinking. He surrendered and set down the notebook. He looked at Elsa; he still felt the same love for her he had from the moment he looked at her. "I'm coming."
...
The Next Morning
Madam Overland,
I am worried. Jack is not doing well. He barely sleeps these days and I'm wondering if he's going into one of those 'moods' you told me about. He spends all day in his study. I have to remind him to eat. I tried mentioning moving back to the country to maybe help clear his mind, but he says he prefers life here in the city. He says he could never find work out there, but I told him there would be plenty of jobs for us.
We've talked about having a child. My body just doesn't seem to want to take. Maybe it's telling me something - that we ought to live somewhere calmer, quieter, more peaceful before I can get pregnant. I don't know.
All I know is sometimes I'll be speaking to Jack and he won't even hear me. He'll be off in his head like he's possessed, like he's frightened by something. I fear what he might do. I fear I won't be able to help him if I'm not ready. He still will not speak about his father, that perhaps he may have the same ailments as him. I am afraid to ask.
Please, write me at once.
Your loving daughter-in-law,
Elsa
...
New Years, 1851
Beloved Mother, Father, and dearest sister, Anna,
Splendid news!
Jack finally came around last night. He told me we could move out to the country. A lovely house in the woods.
I'm not sure what changed his mind, but I don't care to ask. I am thrilled! I will write you again soon, I must start packing.
Elsa
Sør-Trøndelag, Norway (February, 1857)
Six years later, after countless times of trying, the two had finally conceived. Elsa found out back in September that she was at last expecting. The news had been so marvelous—she was overjoyed, her tears fell on the parchment she used to write her family letters. As for Jack, Elsa had not been able to decipher a reaction.
He asked her if she was happy. When Elsa answered, he said he was happy too. But something was off, something Jack wouldn't confide in her about. Was it new-parent jitters? That was normal. But with the knowledge she had kept to herself for years now, she wondered if the added stress hindered his mental state.
The once warm, affectionate husband she'd come to know was now closed-off and often hiding. Whether it be out for his walks in the forest or in his small room where he retreated to write, he no longer sought Elsa's company during these activities. During the times Elsa joined him on these strolls, she noticed Jack liked to stop at the large pond just a few meters from their house. He liked to admire the water, sometimes they would skip stones. Elsa once suggested a picnic, or that he come here to write with the sounds of nature.
Anything that might quiet those voices he just might be hearing. His father, his mother, her own... Truly, she never knew what went on in his head.
When Jack took these walks, he thought more about the lonesome heroine he'd written about all those years ago. She was coming back to him again, haunting him. He'd never sealed her fate. What would happen to her? Would her loneliness consume her? Would she be left alone with the voices in her head telling her she would never be free?
Would she be like his father after all?
"Yes..." Jack whispered, looking at his distorted reflection in the water. "She'll die. The voices will win. But she does it because she doesn't want to hurt her family anymore."
Jack spent the rest of the day thinking about her fate, what he would do.
3:19 AM
Go to the pond.
That was all Jack could hear as he tried to focus on his pregnant wife. Her belly was so swollen with their child now... He worried so much. What kind of father would he be? Was he even fit to be one?
Go to the pond.
What if he just ceased to exist? What would that do to her? Would she go mad too just as his father had done to him? Only his death could answer it... But he wouldn't be here to know. He loved Elsa, and that child, he would love it too, but what if the voice did not? Normally, Jack could not hear the voice as persistently as he did when he lived in Bjørgvin, what with city noises drowning them out.
Here, it was silence. Silence and his whispering demon.
Go. To. The. Pond.
Then from nowhere, Jack heard the sound of rushing waves. Everywhere he looked, brackish water flooded the room from underneath the bed, washing up the sides of the walls and engulfing the room. Jack opened his mouth to scream, to reach for Elsa and protect her and their unborn baby, but as soon as he did, his mouth filled with water. The dark depths pulled him underneath and he jerked—
—upright in his bed.
He was not drenched in water and weeds, but his own sweat as he gasped for air as if he'd truly been drowning.
"Jack?" Elsa startled awake. The room was completely dry. "What is it?"
"I was... I thought..." I'd brought you down with me. Tears started filling his eyes.
"Jack, what is it?" She sat up and rubbed circles on his back. "Another nightmare?"
He couldn't be a father. She would drown with him if he stayed with her! "I can't!" His voice was strangled with remorse. "I can't!"
Elsa lied his head on her shoulder. "Shhh..." She kissed his forehead. "It's going to be all right." As she soothed him, Jack's hand met her pregnant belly. He swore he could already feel the infant moving inside of her. A life he had brought into this world... He hoped their world was a beautiful one, and not dreary like his own.
The next time he opened his mouth, he finally told Elsa about the voices.
He wanted to be a good husband. A good father...
He told her he would write his mother in the morning and then visit the nearest doctor.
Jack didn't want to be like his father.
June, 1861
7:14 AM
"Mommy, Daddy! Wake up! Wake up!" A little girl bounced them both in their beds.
Jack and Elsa both moaned and rolled over... Then opened their eyes to their little Agnes Overland.
"It's my birthday!" Their four-year-old daughter beamed widely. She had honey-brown eyes and a head full of dark hair like Jack. Even her smile was turning into his; irresistible no matter the situation.
"Good morning, buttercup." Jack cradled her in his arms. "Happy birthday." He pressed kisses to her forehead.
"Happy birthday, sweet pea." Elsa poked her nose. Four years... Four of the best of their lives. "You want some breakfast?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Okay, come here and let Mama give you kisses first." She stole her from Jack's arms and covered her face with kisses. As the three went to the kitchen, Jack realized something. Elsa still wore her silver snowflake necklace. For nineteen years, she was his Snow Queen.
"Daddy, I had a dream that we got a bunny rabbit."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. He was big and fluffy." She played with her food more than she ate it, still new at feeding herself. Elsa wiped her mouth with her bib as they ate. "What did you dream about Mama?"
"I can't remember sweetheart. I think about playing with you and Daddy." Elsa looked over at Jack, who was rubbing his eyes. "Did Daddy get a good night's sleep?" Her inquiry was almost suspicious.
"Yes. Daddy just kept waking up last night is all. I had a lot of dreams."
"Ohh! How many?" Agnes asked.
Jack laughed, "Maybe three or four?"
"Well, at least you got some sleep." Elsa poured him some coffee.
Agnes grew curious. "Does Daddy dream about the people from his stories?"
"Sometimes. Daddy dreams that you and Mommy are in my books."
"Can you write a story about us, Daddy?"
Jack snorted, "What would it be about?"
"Um... Make Mommy an enchantress! And me a princess!" She gasped, "And Daddy! You can be a prince pretending to be a peasant's son! Like in my book!"
Elsa grinned at her wild imagination. Perhaps they had another writer in the family.
"Maybe Daddy will write you a book for Christmas." Jack coyly noted. "You never know."
"Yeah?" Agnes started bouncing.
"Okay, okay. Don't get too hyper before we have cake." Elsa settled her down.
The first thing Agnes wanted to do after breakfast was play outside. It was finally warm enough to run around without shoes on. She loved to climb in the trees and try to get whatever squirrels or rabbits she came across to play with her. One time Jack told her that the Easter Bunny lived close by, and Agnes had him chasing her around for hours as she searched feverishly to find his burrow. Elsa let him take that punishment for tricking her.
Jack watched from the window, happy to see her explore and pretend she was on a mythical journey. He felt his wife's arms fold around his waist. "How are you, my love?"
"Peachy." He smirked.
"Did you really get a good night's sleep last night?"
"I did. I also really did keep waking up."
"So you did have lots of dreams?"
"Yeah. But they weren't different. It was the same dream throughout the night. Like, I'd be having the dream, then wake up, then fall back asleep into it... Over and over."
"What kind of dream was it?"
"I can't really remember now. I know I was following something that was leading me around the forest with stones. Everything else is a blank."
Elsa hummed, intrigued. "Sounds like a good plot for that fairytale Agnes wants you to write."
Jack quirked a brow, "You know something? It does." He sipped his coffee, hatching an idea.
9:10 PM
Jack had Agnes nestled in his lap as he read to her. At one point, she stopped him and asked, "Daddy? Will you read me a book you wrote?"
He winced at her, "I don't think you'd like those books. They're... for adults."
"I wanna read your books. I bet they're the bestest."
He hugged her close, "Did your Mommy tell you to say that?" He tickled her so that she couldn't answer. "Did your mother put you up to this?" He got a good look at her face. She was so beautiful and angelic. Ever since she was born, Jack swore he hadn't heard the voices since. For the first year, he still visited his doctors. His mother said that even she noticed a difference. In his eyes, in his mood... Elsa noticed that he didn't cry out in his sleep nearly as much. No more waking up to him tossing and moaning and calling out for his father.
Agnes had saved them, that she was sure of. Elsa didn't think she was strong enough. She had tried for years to heal him on her own but made no progress until Jack had started participating in getting better. He was more willing to let her see him vulnerable. It was comforting to know she'd finally earned that trust.
As he contemplated his daughter's face, Jack began to feel a twinge of concern. What if one day she struggled as he did? What if she started to hear voices of her dead loved ones too? Agnes began to recoil, "Daddy? What's wrong?"
"Hm? Nothing, sweet pea. I was just thinking about the book I'm going to write for you."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
"I was thinking about the main character... She'll be a little girl like you. She'll be smart and kind and curious... And she'll be brave too."
"What's she going to do?"
"She'll have to find her way back home. She wakes up alone in the forest and is given three tests that'll show her the way."
Agnes lied her head on his knee. "Will she get home?"
"I'll have to write it to see." He brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. "Okay, it's time for bed now." Jack tucked her in tight and gave her a kiss. As he blew out the candle, what he didn't tell her was what else would happen.
There would be two voices inside the girl's head. One good, one evil. For Agnes' sake, the good voice would win... But he wondered how that would work out in real life.
His sweet daughter...
4:12 AM
Agnes. She was too close to the water. She couldn't swim yet. Jack called to her, told her to wait for him. But the waves reached out for her and gulped her.
"Agnes!" Jack leapt from his damp pillow. "I'm coming...!" He gasped.
"Jack?" Elsa held his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"I..." He sighed, "I'm fine. I had a bad dream."
Elsa kissed his shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep." He was still panting as he flipped his pillow over to the cooler side and lied back down. As the night went on, long and silent, Jack tried to decipher why... Why was it water that haunted him when he could swim? When his own father had not even died from drowning. What about the water called to him?
He remembered his heroine, the wise and gentle but lonely heroine he had killed long ago to end her suffering. She had drowned. Over something that seemed so simple, she decided to go to the river and let the water take her. But Jack knew better... That heroine Elsa had inspired was not truly her nor some fictitious personification of loneliness.
It was him.
The terrible thoughts he'd had years ago when the voices were the loudest.
If I sleep, the voices will come back. I must write. Writing was the only way to abate them. He crept out of bed in his nightclothes and stole away to the study. With the writing pad in his lap, he started on his daughter's book. It would be a fairytale, yes, but there would be certain things only adults could understand sprinkled in. Things Agnes would when she was older.
She deserved to know everything about her father... The good and the bad.
September, 1857
Madam,
I fear something's wrong again.
Jack has started to hide in his study again. He stays awake all night working on a book he promised Agnes would have on Christmas. I know it's important to him that he finishes, but his mannerisms. Sometimes he's not there. He'll go off into his head entirely and I won't be able to get a hold of him sometimes for minutes. I see him with panic on his face like he's utterly tormented.
I had the doctor speak to him, and all they recommended was rest. Rest and a proper diet.
I don't know what to do, it's not working anymore.
I know you are unwell and aren't fit for travel. But please, tell me what more I can do to get him out of this bind.
Elsa
October, 1857
10:30 AM
Agnes watched curiously from her room as the strange man with a medical bag left her parents' room. He had on a dark coat like the sorcerers wore in her books. Did he put spells on her father? She listened to him talk to her mother.
"Well?"
"Mrs. Overland, he's no worse. I think the main thing is to keep him calm, this steady environment should be fine."
Elsa looked disheartened and pale. "That's what you've been telling us for years and yet he's still this way. Is there nothing more we can do?"
"Look, Madam. All there is to do next is to have him institutionalized if you think he's a threat to yourself and your child."
Elsa blanched. "How dare you? He would never—" She stopped herself, trying to keep from getting too emotional. "He would never bring harm to anyone. It's himself I'm worried about! He doesn't need institutionalization, he needs someone that knows what's wrong with him!"
"What's wrong with him is a risk to his own safety, as you seem to be aware." None of the words made sense to Agnes, who listened quietly. "If you were to let us take him, we could have him monitored twenty-four-seven."
Elsa shook her head. "He doesn't need that! It'll make him feel like he's crazy!"
"He hears voices, Mrs. Overland." The doctor chided, "Voices of his mother, of his dead father, of you." Elsa's eyes teared up and her face crumpled. The doctor gave her a minute to calm herself and then said, "If writing alone is what keeps him sane, then let him write. Don't speak of the voices around him." Elsa was nodding, desperate enough to take any advice he gave her.
Agnes was befuddled. What did he mean by her daddy heard 'voices?' Like an evil witch? She knew her daddy was stronger than to let a witch get inside his head. As soon as the cloaked sorcerer was gone, Agnes ran out and hugged her mother's side.
Elsa quickly wiped her tears away, "Hey there, sweet pea. Are you hungry?"
"Mama, is Daddy up yet?"
"Not yet, sweetie. Daddy's not feeling well. We're gonna let him sleep for a little longer. Okay?"
"Does Daddy have a fever?"
"Well... He's just not feeling well. Sometimes we feel like that."
Agnes wrinkled her nose, not sure what her mother was saying.
"Come on, let's slice some strawberries."
"Those are Daddy's favorite!"
"Yes! We'll make him a treat."
And during all of this, Jack lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
His life had gone back to just what it was. Doctor after doctor after doctor.
It was this place that was keeping him ill. He needed to get back to the city. Even just for a day.
5:18 PM
Jack did not wait for the day to end.
He was going to run away. Maybe for a day or two. Then he'd come right back. It'd be like flushing out his system, silencing the voices for a short time. He'd hurried out of the house while Elsa took Agnes to play outside. He was certain no one would notice him leaving. It was a bit of a walk all the way into town where he could get on a horse and buggy to the city.
The only problem was waiting for one to arrive. He hoped someone would get here soon before he changed his mind.
This would be good for him and his family. He was certain that Elsa and Agnes needed a break from him too. It was already darkening; autumn brought shorter days.
Unfortunately, Elsa couldn't help noticing something when she and Agnes returned. Jack's shoes were missing from where they normally were, along with his coat and cap.
"Mama, what is it?"
She hastily came up with an excuse to not panic her. "Oh, dear, I need to run to the store for some things. Why don't I drop you off at Mister Oaken's for a second?" It wasn't until after she left her at the kindly man's house, who had watched their daughter many times, that she fled towards town. She was not in proper running attire; a bunad and some slippers, but her feet would carry her up the steep, winding mountains if she had to find her husband.
And there Jack was, sitting alone on a bench.
Elsa was out of breath, relieved, but also outraged. Jack turned... There was no escape now. He looked self-conscious and tense.
"You care to tell me what you're doing?" Elsa demanded.
"I went for a walk," Jack answered.
"A walk?" Elsa chased her breath and stormed closer. Jack resisted his panic, his was face pale. Elsa's own was ruddy from the exercise. "Jack... I don't know what it is you think you're doing, but you cannot just walk out like this. We have a four-year-old daughter. What do you suppose she would think?"
"She would think Daddy has something important to do and he'd be back tomorrow."
Elsa was careful with her wording, but she had to know. "Is it the voices telling you to do this?" She had softened her voice, but Jack flared up the moment she said it.
"I am so sick of those questions. Everywhere I go there are doctors telling me what's good for me and what I should do!"
"They're the doctors, Jack! They do know what to do!"
"I heard him this morning. If you think they know what to do, then why don't you send me away?" Jack shouted. "Send me off to be confined in a straight-jacket rocking back and forth like the other loons out there?"
Elsa finally allowed herself to lose her temper. "Because you're not one of them!" She started to cry. "Jack, I have seen you better. I've seen you let yourself heal, let yourself hurt. I knew there would be dark times again, but we must work through them together!"
Jack was felled to her tears; he hated seeing her this way, that he made her this way. This was only proving this point. "It would be a relief for you and Agnes for me to leave."
Elsa shook her head firmly. "No."
"You don't need me."
"We do. You're my husband and her father. Who's going to finish her book?"
That struck something in Jack... A horse and cart were approaching, but the two ignored them. Jack's voice was almost a whisper, "I want to go back to the city. I miss Bjørgvin."
"Jack. It was the city that made you stressed. You were better when we first came here."
Jack was trembling, "Elsa, I want city life. I want noise, I want people. I cannot handle another hour of wrestling with myself alone in the dark or in the silence. Living here feels like I'm in that solitary room they would put me in if you were to let them take me. Elsa, I was happy for a while and I wish I could still be. But here, the voices are louder than they ever were. I can try to silence them as much as I want but only places where there are other things to listen to can." Jack was now calm and certain. All he could do was hope that Elsa would understand it from his perspective. "My sweet, I know you live with the fear of something happening to me... Elsa, I live with it too."
Elsa used her sleeve to wipe her tears. She almost couldn't answer him. She hid her sopping wet face in his chest for a moment... Then pulled away, "Okay." She answered, nodding in defeat and understanding. Jack's eyes flashed; he almost didn't believe what she was saying. It was not that Elsa had no desire to live in Bjørgvin... It was only her concern for Jack that kept her away. But now he was insisting he wanted to go back. What else she could do? "Just... one last new year here. Is that all right?"
Jack smiled and then nodded. He reached out and wiped her tears. When Elsa looked back up at him, she felt like she recognized him for the first time in years. That same, sad, nervous boy she'd met nineteen years ago. She had missed him. Though they were both a little shaken, Jack took her arm and they started back home.
"I've almost finished Agnes' book." He said, almost as an afterthought. Elsa looked at him, happy to hear it.
Perhaps, finally, this spell was broken and more good years awaited them.
But the Overlands would not be returning to Bjørgvin after the new year. The voices were wicked, and they were persuasive.
New Years, 1862
8:00 AM
Jackson Overland's body was identified by his own wife when two ice-fishers from town pulled him out. They had tried to resuscitate him, but he had gone into shock and drowned the moment he fell under.
Agnes' book was finished. It was a beautiful, richly-detailed story that had a happy ending. But within the text, the story of a small boy who was trapped inside of his own head was told as well. Agnes would soon discover why he'd included it.
For now, she had her note, hand-written by her father, which Elsa would keep hidden as he'd asked her to until she was older.
Buttercup,
I don't know how to explain this in a way you'll understand. Hopefully, you'll be grown by the time you read this.
Just like the little boy in your book, I was very sad. I also had a demon that imprisoned me inside of my mind, but I wasn't lucky enough to have a brave heroine rescue me. You and your mother are very strong, but Daddy was not. I'll miss your sweet voice, your beautiful face. I'm so sorry for being a coward and not being able to fight the demons anymore.
Daddy loves you. And he still does.
Just know if there is ever a time in your life you feel something's wrong, if you think there's a demon inside of you too, just remember you are stronger than Daddy. You are brave. I hope the only time you hear my voice is when you remember the times you made me laugh, or read to you, or sang you to sleep. Or me saying that I love you.
You and your mother loved me unconditionally, and for that, you've given me the greatest happiness.
Always my love, always my heart, always yours.
Daddy