CHAPITRE 2 - Elsa's reminiscences (1)

(Thirteen years ago)

It's her fault. It's all her fault. If only she had listened to her parents. It's our secret. Don't tell anyone. Don't show it at anyone. Not even Anna. It's our secret. She's too little for that. Anna don't know how to keep secrets. The thought was revolting because hiding something from Anna was like lying to herself. But her parents were adults, tall and smart, and she had too much respect for them to doubt. So she kept it a secret, even when she discovered that blood tasted like iron the first time she had to bite her tongue to physically restrain herself from speaking.

But it was one of these night where everything was quiet in the palace. Winter was well established, the cold controlled by a burning fire in the chimney. The family had gathered in a small living room for the evening. Diplomatic visits were slowed down by the weather and Agnarr and Iduna seemed to have all the time in the world. The book in her father's hand was an epic fiction and not one of those boring volumes that he had started to give her during study time. He was relaxed in a big chair, his blond hair turning to gold in the light of the flames. Her mother had long occupied a sofa with Anna literally spread over her before getting up in a chuckle when the snoring became too loud. She was obviously lost for the night, her five years of life powerless against sleep.

Everything was perfect, lulling her in a false sense of safety.

Those stupid gloves. Under the precious silk, her fingers were soaked and made her movemements clumsy. Earlier, Anna had asked her to do one of those paper birds and her attemps were unsuccessful. Even so Elsa was sure she understood the technique taught by the ambassador's son with whom they had played a few days ago. A third sheet of paper had been crumpled into a ball and sent into the fire when she lost patience. It was rare enough to be noted. Her calm often earned her compliments. But she didn't like failure, especially when it concerned her little sister. Disappointing her was out of the question.

So the gloves went away.

When the heat hit her bare skin, she sighed softly. The feeling was pleasant, liberating. Even if she was used to the gloves, she would have liked it to be otherwise. She stirred her knuckles towards the fire, eyes closing for just a moment.

Twenty seconds of perfect freedom.

Until hell broke loose.

Everything had happened so fast. So fast that her mind hadn't had the time to understand. Really understand.

The silence was deafening. Like calm before the storm. The exact opposite of the sudden noise heard a few heartbeats earlier. A crash of metal that had taken her by surprise.

It had only been a reflex. A stupid slip of her power. A flurry of snow had escaped from her fingers directed towards the fire which died in a spitting of smoke.

Don't show it at anyone. Especially to your grandfather. Now she understood why her father always looked so severe when he told her that. The seriousness was up to the threat.

The roar of the king was what got her out of her shock. His face was contorted with too many emotions for her to identify them all. Anger dominated him, his whole body tense and ready to pounce. The worst was that blade in his hand, his precious knife that she had always seen hanging from his waist. The same knife he used to cut apple wedges when she was staying in her office for long discussions about a monarch's duties. Although it was still the same man, she no longer recognized in him the one she admired. This bright-eyed grandfather who declared that she would be his greatest pride. Who perched her on his shoulders during long walks in the orchards. The one in front of her had a crazy look in the eyes, something that seemed to say he was ready for anything.

She noticed the tears when they rolled down her throat, freezing there uncomfortably. Clouds of steam escaped from the king's mouth as if he was a furious bull.

Elsa had lost control. Cold waves rippled around her in response to her fear. Soon even the snow started to fall in small flakes who weighed down whenever her grandfather took a step. At this pace it would soon hail in the palace.

"Monster !"

Everything was going too fast and too slowly at the same time. The scene seemed to take hours to unfold before her eyes. Yet she couldn't run away. Her feet were stuck to the ground.

"Don't touch her !"

Her father's reassuring back suddenly blocked her sight. She could see all of his anger too, in his posture and in his voice he normally never raised. The emotion was reassuring in him. He was like a shield standing between her and the danger. She wanted to hang on to him as she did when she was younger. To hide her face in his jacket and let herself be lulled by the familiar scent. But the distance widened between them when he tried to take the weapon in the king's hand.

That's when Iduna arrived in the room, alerted by the cries. She only observed the situation for a second before joining her daughter's side.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Calm down."

Her voice didn't seem so convinced despite her efforts.

"Breathe. Please, for me. In and out."

Breathe. The concept had been forgotten by Elsa who was just taking tiny breaths among the sobs.

"I'm here. We're here. Daddy and me, we will never let anyone hurt you. You're safe."

With her mother curled so tight around her, forming like a cocoon with her body she dared to believe her. Even when the men were still fighting nearby, insults raining like a stone rain on her heart.

A monster. An abomination. A shame for the family. The king stressed the importance of not letting their blood be spoiled.

"In and out, Elsa. Good."
"My blood can't run in this thing. It's impossible. Are you sure about your wife ? You're just a boneless coward. She shouldn't have been afraid of the consequences if she had fuck a troll."

BAM.

The king found himself sprawled on the ground. The knife with whom he had threatened Elsa now in his son's hand.

"Never talk about them like that again. You understood me ?!"

The blade had come to press against the king's throat as a threat.

"And what are you going to do ? I'm the king !"

A moment passed. The mood suddenly changing. Eye to eye, the two men had exchanged a silent conversation and something in Agnarr's gaze had allowed him to take control.

Almost.

"If this thing comes before me again I swear before the gods that her head will be planted on a spike in front of this cursed forest !"

Elsa saw her father tense up, the knife pressing harder on the king's throat before being removed.

"Iduna."

He had not turned around, hadn't said more, but that was enough for her mother to straighten her and move her towards the door. Agnarr followed them, covering their retirement.

Elsa was barely in the hallway when the king spoke again.

"You will be the one to blame the day it will cost you your daughter. Think about it, Agnarr."

It wasn't until a few hours later, buried under the blanket of her parents' big bed, the two adults huddled around her, that Elsa understood what he meant. Anna.

The king seemed persuaded she was going to hurt Anna. The seed had been planted in the fertile soil of her fear.

Suddenly, she was not so sure she could prove him wrong.