There was one conversation that Elsa had always remembered from her parents arguing, something that had stuck in her mind forever. They had realized she was there and listening too late, and no matter how they had apologized and reassured her they would never do what they had said, she had never been able to look at them the same way.
"This is the third time this month she's tried to hurt herself."
"She was upset. She was just reacting to hurting Anna."
"Exactly! Idun, both our daughters could wind up dead tomorrow morning! Elsa has spent the past two years hiding from Anna, terrified of herself, terrified of us, terrified of her sister, and I never wanted that for her! But Anna is Anna, there's no keeping her away. We've tried. We've had to take her to the trolls and wipe her memory of Elsa's magic again seven times and each time Elsa gets more distraught. She attempted to freeze herself solid yesterday. How is this good for either of them?! Elsa hates herself. She can't stand being around other people because she lives in fear of herself all the time. I don't want that, you don't want that, but there's nothing we can do, Idun, we have no idea how to help her!" Elsa had rarely heard her father sound so upset, so emotional, but hearing his voice crack now made this all the more real and made her feel all the more horrible for being the cause of this pain.
"There are...rumors. Of men with magic like hers, in a faraway land. We could summon one of them." Idun's voice was faint and timid. "I've heard whispers of a man, a sorcerer, who might be powerful enough to control Elsa's powers."
The suggestion left nothing but silence in its wake for far too long. Elsa couldn't see her father's face, but she could tell from the silence he didn't like this idea.
"Where does this sorcerer live?" He asked finally.
"He lives in a land called...Skyrim...and his name...is Morokei."
The silence that followed this was terrifying.
"A Dragon Priest?" he said at last. "You want to summon a Dragon Priest?!" It was the first time Elsa had ever truly heard her father yell at her mother, and she cringed just as Queen Idun did.
The king backed away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. But...I just..."
"They're exceptionally powerful," Idun whispered. "Especially Morokei."
"No, Idun!"
"They say he can do anything. That...that he uses ice and snow as a weapon, just like Elsa. He could take away her powers."
"You want to let that monster near our little girl?! No. I don't care what happens, we are never doing that to her. Nor are we ever bringing this up again."
"Well, I don't particularly want it either, Markus, but I don't want to lose my child either! Anna could have died! Elsa is getting more and more distraught—who knows what she'll do! Sometimes I start to feel like we have no choice!"
It was then that they noticed Elsa standing there, wide-eyed and fearful. It was then that they became parents again, and not two scared people staring at each other across a great divide...a divide she had caused.
They promised her it would never happen. They would never let any Dragon Priest or sorcerer near her.
But the damage was done.
And the memory remained.
Elsa's heart stammered and she took a step back, the snow coming down in earnest now. "Skyrim? Morokei? You mean...he's real?"
"Real?" Kai frowned at her. The majordomo looked back at Jorgen, then back at Elsa. "What do you mean, 'he's real'?"
Elsa steeled herself, even though her hands were clenching the chair behind her so tightly her knuckles were numb.
"My parents mentioned him." Elsa said. "I just remembered it. They were discussing—this." She gestured to the snow and it went away. "I was young, so I believed I was the only one with magic. I didn't believe it when they mentioned a sorcerer who could take away my powers."
"Your parents considered taking your powers?" Kai demanded, frowning at her. While some people in Arendelle were not fond of Elsa or her magic, her council at the very least was loyal to her, especially Kai and Vulius, and Jorgen.
"No," Elsa defended them. "They just mentioned Morokei."
"I don't like that idea." Vulius said. "A sorcerer that powerful seems dangerous. And what's this about dragons?"
"Dragon Priests. Sounds like a cult." Councilor Andersen said.
"It is," Jorgen replied. "They are men with...extreme...powers...who worship the Dragons. There are not...many dragons left. These ancient...men...have been in Skyrim since time began, and rose from the dead a thousand years ago." At this, there were exclamations of shock and horror among the other men. Elsa merely sat there, face pale as porcelain. "They are...immortal...unkillable...and Morokei...is...strongest. He sent...he sent us this...a while ago." Jorgen fished a piece of parchment out of his sleeve and handed it to Elsa. "It came to me, weeks ago, and before I could give it to you...it disappeared. I have...been searching for it...and it appeared again by my bedside table this morning. For you, my Queen."
With trembling fingers Elsa took the letter, willing herself with everything she had not to freeze it through her gloves. It was starting to feel like her coronation all over again.
The parchment was strange and yellowed with age, and seemed to be made more out of stiff cloth than paper or animal skin. It had an odd scale-like imprint on it too, and the seal was made of black wax, and depicted a rearing dragon head with strange runes inscribed in a circle around it. Before she could even go to break the seal, the wax went up in flames, and vanished, making her drop the letter in shock.
"Open it," Jorgen said in his frail voice.
Elsa did.
Pruzah vulon, Queen Elsa, read an elegant script that seemed surprisingly flowery. I congratulate you on your ascension to the throne, and apologize that this commendation comes so very late. I also offer my condolences for the death of your parents, whom I had the pleasure of knowing through a very brief correspondence.
Her heart seized. So they had contacted him.
I know Arendelle to be facing the threat of annihilation by the Aldmeri Dominion, as Keizaal was many years ago, the letter continued. It is in this spirit of kinship that I offer an alliance with Skyrim to you. I ask for nothing in return. Skyrim is large but has few people, and Arendelle is small but has many. I believe together we could give the Dominion reason to turn back from Arendelle, if you would be willing to accept this offer.
I look forward to your response, whatever it may be.
With highest regards,
Morokei, Dragon Priest of Bromjunaar
Elsa tried to ignore how the pen was shaking in her hand, but after failing to write coherently three times, she put pen and paper down and drew in a deep breath.
"Relax," she murmured, placing a hand over her heart both to encourage the beat to steady, and to calm the trembling of her fingers. "Don't be afraid. Relax. Don't be afraid."
After several moments of just standing there, repeating the words over and over until they just became individual blobs of sound with no meaning, she sat back down and took a deep breath. When she exhaled, it started to snow and frost covered the ground at her feet, but she let it. Allowing her emotions to manifest was sometimes a good thing, she had come to realize. It took them when they were crowding her in and put them outside of her, and like now, seeing her snow made her feel a little calmer.
Lord Morokei, she penned, mulling the words over in her head. She spelled his name wrong the first time and, muttering, wiped it clear with frost and began again. Thank you for... For what? For condolences? Yes, that was as good as any. Your condolences, and your letter. I did not know you knew my parents; you will have to tell me about your experiences with them when you come to Arendelle—no, too informal. In light of recent events, I do believe we ought to—again, no. It just sounded awkward. Sighing, Elsa wiped most of what she'd written off the page with the frost and started over again. Lord Morokei, thank you for your condolences, and your letter. In light of recent events, I would like to invite you to Arendelle, in the interest of discussing an alliance. I look forward to your response.
Queen Elsa of Arendelle
It was only the third time she had signed her name as the Queen, and it gave her a feeling of mild unease now. She wished the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders, that her parents were still here, but she had a duty to her people and she would do it. Even if that meant making a deal with the devil.
After several tries and several frustrated snow blasts, she successfully fashioned a small ice dragon and fastened the letter to its belly. It chirped and climbed onto her shoulder, and she smiled. She had already grown attached to it. Carrying it to the window, she patted its head and pushed open the heavy glass panes. "Carry this letter to Skyrim. Lord—erm, Dragon Priest Morokei, of Bromjunaar." She instructed, doing her best with the strange names. The dragon chirped again, then flew out the open window into the night.
"Come back soon!" She called, hoping she'd see her little ice dragon again. It was hard not to get attached to the things she created.
When she turned around there was a large letter on her desk.
Heart hammering, she approached cautiously, frost at her fingertips and ready to shoot. It was lying next to her aqua gloves, the yellowish, large parchment with the black seal, and when it didn't attack her upon her approach, she very carefully picked it up and opened it.
Queen Elsa;
I am quite pleased you wish to discuss an alliance. If it suits you, I will arrive in Arendelle tomorrow. You need not write a reply.
Regards,
Lord Morokei
Elsa was left with her heart going a thousand miles an hour, terrified. How had he sent her a response? She had literally just sent her messenger to him! Was he watching her? For a moment, she was honestly convinced she was going to faint and sat down very quickly, for once not trying to control her emotions. Frost swept out over the floor in graceful fractals, and ice crept up the already-frosted chair legs and arms and created spikes around her feet. Snow began to swirl aimlessly in various directions as she stared at the letter. Tomorrow? Need not write a reply? What the hell was she dealing with?
After a long time—too long—the snow went away, and the frost retreated from where it had gone crazy over the carpet, leaving a faint silver shimmer in the weave of the rug and unfreezing her desk chair. Trying not to slump over her desk in defeat and fear, Elsa looked up at the high rafters of the ceiling. "Tomorrow?" She whispered. "How is that even possible? How did he do...this?"
Embarrassed for no real reason at all, she nodded, quickly. "Yes," she said aloud, trying to direct her thoughts and her voice to this terrifying Dragon Priest. "Tomorrow...is suitable."
It was kind of stupid, talking to the air. Sighing, she released her hair from its bun and combed her fingers through the braid to unravel it. She removed the frost and the ice, folded up her paper and put the pen and inkwell neatly away, pushed her chair in, and left the room, hands once again knotting at her stomach as she walked.
Her feet did not carry her to her own room, however, but to Anna's. She hadn't slept in what felt like far too long, and even though her body and mind were exhausted, something about lying in that great empty room alone was unpleasant at the least and frightening at the worst. Her heart was already going far too fast.
She knocked on the door, trying dearly not to think of all the times Anna had knocked on hers. "Anna?" It would serve me right if you didn't open it.
But Anna did. Anna always did. And she always knew when Elsa was upset—like now. "Elsa?" She asked, frowning at the expression on her sister's face. "What's wrong?"
"Can I...can we hang out? Like we used to?" Elsa started nervously knitting her fingers, faster and faster, but then Anna reached out and took her hands.
"Always," Anna said gently.
Elsa walked into Anna's room and her sister closed the door behind them, then flounced past the young queen to sit on the bed, patting the mattress next to her. Elsa came and sat, and Anna immediately scooted back to cross her legs and begin braiding Elsa's hair.
Anna's room hadn't changed since the time they had shared it together; the walls were still pink with the white baseboard moulding and deco trim, carefully-done rosemaling in rosy gray, olive green and dark maroon decorating each stripe around the room. The curtains had recently had to be removed, as Anna had accidentally ripped them, and the bar they hung from, off the windows, and the dark blue of the night sky shimmered into the room, the Northern Lights throwing greens and blues and violets around to mingle with the candlelight. Elsa sighed.
"Everything okay?" Anna asked, folding strand over strand and combing Elsa's bangs back into the braid to keep them out of her face. "You don't look so good. I mean, not that you look bad. But you don't exactly look happy. Are you happy?"
"I don't know, Anna..." Elsa shook her head, prompting Anna to clear her throat in an indication of disapproval, and re-center the braid. "I'm just...afraid. All the time, I'm afraid."
Anna paused in her braiding to peer over Elsa's shoulder, concern in her aqua eyes. "Of your powers? I thought you...you know, got used to them. 'Love will thaw' and all that." She looked down at frowned at the gloves. "I thought you didn't need those anymore."
"I don't. Not really." Elsa pulled the soft gloves off and looked down at the pale sage-green fabric, running her thumb over the embroidered crocus design by the trim. Her eyes flickered. "Remember how Momma had those white gloves that belonged to grandma? How I always, always wanted to wear them, but she was afraid that between the two of us, they'd get ruined? After I...after I hit you with my powers, and I locked myself away...Daddy gave them to me." She chuckled at the memory, despite the pang of pain in her chest. "I guess he and Momma figured I wasn't going to destroy them now. They were...a safety net. I didn't want to look at the hands that had nearly killed you."
A tear slid down her soft, pale cheek and landed on the fabric, and she hurriedly wiped it away before it could soak in to the weave and stain the soft cotton-silk mix. She blinked hurriedly, to avoid letting Anna see her cry.
"That wasn't fair to you," Anna muttered, pausing once again to reach around her sister's side and hold her hand, squeezing just a little too tightly—as Anna of course was wont to do. "They should have taught you to love your powers, not hate them."
"Yes, I know. But they did their best." Elsa let Anna hold her hand for a few seconds more, the gently pulled her fingers away and folded the gloves into her lap. "They became my cage, though, you're right. That's why I freaked out when you brought them back up to me on the mountain. But now...I kind of feel like they're reassuring me. They help me feel...in control."
Anna patted Elsa's head as she continued the fishtail braid. "I'm of the belief that you don't need them. But if they make you feel safer or whatever, then obviously I'm not going to complain until you take them off. But really, Elsa, you can't blame yourself for what happened when we were kids. You told me to stop running, and I didn't. Hey. Look at me. Quit crying. I don't blame you."
"I know, I know." Elsa waved her off. "I just...I'm always afraid nowadays. Of myself. Of my powers. Of...of being queen. I tried to hold out for so long...I didn't want to be queen. I definitely wasn't ready at only 21. That's why I insisted they put off the big ceremony, until I basically just couldn't insist any longer." She rubbed her temples. "God, Mom and Dad made this look so much easier than it actually is."
"You're doing a great job as queen," Anna reassured her, finishing the braid and pulling a ribbon from the messy tangle on her bedside table to secure it. She tossed it over Elsa's shoulder and started massaging her sister's shoulders. When the sisters were young, Elsa had always had to do Anna's hair, as she was too young to do it herself and too impatient to learn. When they had been separated, and Elsa had then kept that separation going, Anna had had to learn to braid her own hair, and she had become quite talented at it—mainly because it was the only way to keep that unruly mane out of her face. Like their grandmother Sabine, Anna had thick, wavy hair that got progressively curlier as it went down her head, and it was constantly standing up in crazy directions if she left it upbraided. One of Elsa's favorite things to do was have Anna braid her hair—it was a pleasant role-reversal of their childhood, and one that allowed Anna to do something with her hands and thus focus on the conversation without having to move around constantly.
"Am I?" Elsa asked the ceiling as Anna massaged the tense muscles in her shoulders.
"Heck yeah! Just imagine what an awful mess I'd be making if I were queen."
Elsa sighed again and looked back at her hands resting in her lap. "The Dominion sent us another offer."
"Another? Geez, can't they take a hint? What did they want this time?"
"They wanted our surrender. Again. This time it came with some ludicrous offer of a marriage between Arendelle and the kingdom of Weselton in exchange for the elves NOT obliterating our entire country," Elsa muttered.
"Marriage? Eeuw. I would never let you marry the slimy king of that slimy country." Anna said.
Elsa did not tell her the enemy countries were demanding Anna's hand and Elsa's head. "Well, we got another offer."
"Let me guess." There was a faint prick of fury in Anna's voice, which was already full of thinly veiled hatred. "The Southern Isles. Those bastards have the nerve to make offers to us after what Hans—"
"Actually," Elsa interrupted, laying a hand on Anna's to calm her, "Not the Southern Isles."
"No? Then who?" Anna blinked and shuffled around so she was facing her sister, eyes wide and curious in the purple darkness of the room. The Northern Lights streaked indigos and violets and a dash of pale rose across her freckled face and left the rest in darkness, drawing out her features and making her sea-blue eyes pools of murky ink instead. Elsa was always so very proud of what a pretty young woman her awkward, gangly sister had managed to become—though Anna was still perfectly awkward and gangly even now.
Elsa inhaled deeply, breathed out, and set her jaw. "Skyrim."
Anna stiffened, and her eyes darkened, brow bunching in concern and a little fear. "Whoa. Skyrim? No one's heard anything from them in...well, in ages. They're...don't they keep to themselves? Hang on, isn't most of their land uninhabited?"
Elsa nodded. "They do usually keep to themselves. But the Dominion was really interested in them a few years ago. There was apparently a group of humans who took over and unified that whole area, and then the Dominion barged in. But Skyrim overthrew them, forced the Dominion out, and kept them out." There was excitement in her voice, barely concealed by her even, ever-steady tone, but there was also a thin layer of nervousness. Of fear. "They offered to help us."
"That's...amazing." The younger princess did not seem as thrilled as Elsa had hoped she would be. Anna's excitement was to be her validation for agreeing to negotiate with Skyrim. This was more like trepidation.
She merely nodded. "It is. I...have already contacted them, actually. One of their leaders is arriving tomorrow to discuss an alliance." The words sounded very strange on her tongue.
"Tomorrow? That's fast. Who are their leaders?" Anna leaned back on her hands just a little, to better see her sister's face. Elsa's back was to the window and the better part of her features were masked in blue shadow, the faintest glimmer of pale violet highlighting her cheekbone and eyelid and the delicate sweep of her hair. "I'm not caught up on my Skyrim lore. I just know what I've heard from the councilors and such."
At this query, Elsa started to wring her hands again. "Well...there are supposedly eight, but the one coming tomorrow is supposed to be one of the most powerful...his name is Morokei."
At this, Anna did balk. "Wait. Morokei? The one you said that...Mom and Dad considered taking you to? To get rid of your powers?"
"They didn't want to get rid of my powers," Elsa chided, not sure who exactly she was chiding and who she was defending. "Just..."
"Control them. Control you." Anna's gaze was hard and Elsa once again found herself surprised at the resentment Anna seemed to harbor towards their parents, when it was Elsa who had frozen her out and ignored her for almost 20 years. Was all of it just on Elsa's behalf? Or did Anna in part blame them for her isolation and lonely life?
She just shrugged. "Well, neither one seemed very fond of the idea—"
"But they considered it."
"Anna, they were afraid," Elsa whispered.
"They shouldn't have been afraid of their own daughter!" Anna snapped. "They treated you like a monster. No wonder you stayed away from me."
"Anna," Elsa said sharply.
The younger sighed. "Right. Sorry. I know they...tried." She drew her knees to her chest and leaned her chin on them, rocking back and forth for a moment with her dark eyes brooding and lost to this world, before looking back to Elsa. "So you're actually going to talk to Morokei? Even after...that?"
"Yes, I have to."
"No, you don't." Anna uncurled to grasp her shoulders. "Look, Elsa, nothing says you have to do anything. If you—"
"Anna," Elsa raised her hands to gently brush Anna's away. "I do have to. It's my duty, as queen, to my people. If Morokei can...save us? Then yes, we must make an alliance with him. With Skyrim."
"Morokei is a him? Hmm," Anna said, and Elsa laughed, knowing that had been Anna's exact intention and grateful for it.
"What would I do without you," she teased.
"Probably become a zombie incapable of performing basic human functions," Anna teased back, then rolled off the bed and flounced over to her wardrobe to pull out her nightgown. "Do you...want to just sleep here? Like when we were little?"
Elsa beamed and let Anna toss her another nightgown. "Yes, I would love that. Thank you, Anna."
The two sisters curled up next to each other under the covers, Elsa lying on her side with her legs tucked neatly under her and Anna sprawled in three different directions, and the last thought Elsa registered before she drifted away into sleep was how pretty the sky was tonight.