All or Nothing
Chapter Eight
I finally got around to posting this fic on Tumblr. I like Tumblr, but I'm old and confused by all this modern social media, so please bear with me.
Elsa is approaching very dodgy territory, largely because I see her as having trouble with healthy boundaries and what's appropriate regardless of whether Merida knows she's being creeped on or not. I do not intend to portray this as a healthy relationship for either of them, at least right now.
…..
A lifetime's worth of private, intense schooling had taught Elsa to tackle any problems in a logical manner. So she attempted to logically explain away her attraction to Merida in the hopes that she would realize her feelings weren't that strong after all.
Merida was beautiful, there was no denying that. If one had an inclination for women anyway, which Elsa had to admit she did.
She was exotic by the standards of Arendelle, a country whose bloodlines were built on just five noble families and a handful of their servants who had fled the North 500 years before. An Arendellian native could be spotted by a peculiar bluish tint under the skin and thin, straight hair. Merida's skin, fair as it was, had a red glow to it and her voluminous curls drew the eye no matter where she was.
She radiated good health, too, something that could be attributed to her Ceiltic bloodline. As far as Elsa knew, Ceilts didn't have much regard for preserving the purity of a royal line. The throne was won by strength and marrying what would be considered commoners wasn't frowned upon. Merida had warrior's blood, and there was no clearer evidence than the fact that she'd been submerged in ice-cold water twice and not even caught a cold.
There was a definite element of empathy there, too. Elsa having spent most of her life kept away from people could easily put herself in the place of an exiled girl stuck in a foreign land, ignorant of the language and confused by the customs. She'd coped admirably, so that was another layer to the likeability factor.
Add to all this the fact that Merida had saved both her life and Anna's and it was no wonder Elsa was drawn to her. She'd been drawn to Flossie in much the same way, the woman who had provided her food and warmth and an air of jollity. And to Madame Martine, who had treated her with such kindness and understanding.
Give it time, she thought. It will pass.
It did not.
…..
The catalyst, the moment Elsa really realized she was in trouble, was when she chose to reveal her ice powers to Merida. Her hand was forced by Olaf, or rather by lack of Olaf. They'd been talking over breakfast, Anna relating some story that involved Olaf in some way. Elsa had barely been paying attention, until Merida spoke up when she'd been quiet all morning.
"Who is Olaf?" she asked. "You talk of him often, I never see him."
Anna shrugged, but then thought on it for a while.
"You know, he's been gone for a long time. Like, months! Do you think he's okay, Elsa?"
It was odd. They hadn't missed him as such, he had a tendency to come and go as he pleased. But to be away for so long was admittedly worrying.
"Has anyone seen him recently that you know of?" she asked Anna.
"Kristoff did, he said he met him on the North mountain."
She met Kristoff later, as he was coming down from an expedition up the mountain. The weather was getting warmer and ice would soon be in high demand. She asked about Olaf, and was very worried by what she heard.
"I asked why he hadn't been down lately too," Kristoff told her. "He said it's too warm for him down here."
"That doesn't make any sense," said Elsa. "He has his flurry, and the weather hasn't turned properly yet. It's not nearly warm enough for him to melt."
Kristoff was removing his damp coat and boots, as he always did after a mountain trip, shaking them by the door before he went for hot coffee in the kitchens. Elsa followed behind him, noticing he left wet footprints behind him.
"I'm only telling you what he told me, you know how hard it is to get a straight answer out of him," he shrugged.
"Even so, he's not usually sensible enough to stay out of the heat, he should have been down at some point."
"There is something going on up there," Kristoff muttered.
Her head snapped up. A cold sense of foreboding fell on her. By now they'd reached the kitchens and Kristoff had been handed a pot of coffee by the steward and was warming on a stool in front of the fire. The servants milled around in silence. The queen rarely went to the kitchens herself. With a wave, she dismissed them all. This was a discussion better held privately.
"What do you mean? What do you think is going on up there?"
Only now she noticed how wet Kristoff's hair was, limp strands hanging sodden over his forehead. He looked worn out, with dark blue circles under his eyes.
"The snow up there isn't solid," he told her gravely. "Definitely not as packed as it should be this time of year. The ice on the lake is thinner and really brittle. It splinters as soon as you put the pick into it. I should have harvested three times what I've gotten this season."
Elsa inhaled sharply. This was bad. Kristoff didn't have to work, as the fiancé of the princess he had everything provided for him, but he took pride in the work he did. With the exception of Elsa herself, nobody knew ice and snow like Kristoff.
"I'm sorry it's been so hard for you. You should have told me this sooner," she said quietly. "What do you think is causing this?"
He shrugged.
"The base temperature hasn't changed, there's no major difference in the wind or rainfall," he stated. "This shouldn't be happening. Everything's affected. Even your ice castle."
She couldn't hold back a gasp. The castle too? The walls were a metre thick!
"How bad is it?"
Kristoff sucked in his breath through his teeth. Elsa braced herself.
"The structure's still sound, most of the columns are standing. But almost all the walls have disintegrated. Only the south facing ones are intact."
Elsa felt tears prick the back of her eyes and forced them back with difficulty. She hadn't been back, not since she'd been taken away by Hans and his men, but she'd hoped to keep it there for when she needed some peace. For all that the castle held bad memories, it was the first structure she'd built after releasing her full potential and would always hold a place in her heart. For as long as it stayed standing, at least.
"You could do something about it, couldn't you?" Kristoff asked her. "Excuse me for my ignorance, I'm not sure quite how your powers work, but you must have some influence over this phenomena?"
She could, in theory. Elsa's powers did have a small sway over the weather itself, in that the moisture in the air could be affected by how many ice particles she was pumping into it at any given time. It couldn't be scientifically measured (not for lack of trying) and how much or how little was very much dependant on her emotional state….
Oh.
Oh!
She'd spent almost half a year pumping ice into the air without realizing it, due to Merida's presence. Who knows what else she'd been doing without knowing? Her emotions had been churning from joy to despair and back again and she hadn't even thought of what effect it was having on her powers.
Kristoff shivered, and although she tried to pull the cold out of the room there was a blanket of desolation descending on her and it was like trying to walk through thick mud.
"I'll fix this. I promise," she informed Kristoff grimly, and walked away.
…..
The first step towards fixing what was wrong was to wrench back some control over her powers. She'd been trying to keep them a secret from Merida, as was the protocol with all foreigners who hadn't heard about it through the grapevine. But if Elsa was supposed to use her powers to repair the hole she'd punched in the atmosphere, she'd have to tell her.
She found Merida late at night, as always dangling off of the ledge in the tower scanning the skies for Lua. Maudie had been sending a lot of letters as of late (Elsa had to translate them all, and she couldn't help feeling annoyed with Maudie for continually asking why Merida couldn't just sail to meet them on Cava. The woman was either dense or actively malicious.)
She watched Merida in silence for a few moments, mentally bracing herself. Then, cautiously, she approached.
"May I speak with you?"
Merida jumped, and for a brief awful moment Elsa thought she'd topple off of the side. But her balance was good, and before Elsa could send a spike of ice out to catch her, she's rebalanced, spun around and was looking at Elsa as if nothing was amiss.
"You surprise me," Merida said. She'd been making an effort to speak nothing but Dellian until she'd grasped it perfectly. "What you want with me?"
"We should speak Angolsi for this, I think," Elsa suggested. "There is something I need to tell you about."
"That sounds serious," Merida switched to Angolsi. "Is something wrong?"
"Well, yes," Elsa began. Merida looked worried, and she mentally cursed herself. "But it's nothing to do with you. Not really."
She was getting flustered. Her hands grasped her skirt, clenching at the fabric in the hopes that it would ground her. But Merida beamed a reassuring smile at her, and her panic receded, at least a little.
"Just spit it out then, get it over and done with. I'm not easy to shock," Merida quipped.
Elsa took a deep breath. She tried to speak, but couldn't find the words. Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.
"It can't be that bad, surely?" Merida said, frowning.
There was no choice. The words wouldn't come, so her hands did the talking. A thin stream of ice flowed from her fingers, hovered in the air, and clattered to the ground, shattering like glass.
To her credit, Merida didn't scream. She did go very white and, in a move that Elsa was sure was pure instinct, put her hand to where the scabbard of a sword would have been if she'd had one there. Unfortunately instinct worked both ways, because to Elsa it looked like she was going to topple off of the ledge and she reacted by wrapping a circlet of ice around her back, fusing her to the ledge. She dangled there, helplessly. Elsa stood with her arms raised towards her, just as helplessly.
Well. That could have gone better.
After a few deep, shuddering breaths, Merida pulled herself out of the ice circle and brushed the crumbs of frost from her shoulders.
"Wasn't expecting that," she muttered. Elsa nearly laughed.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her tongue still feeling too thick to form words properly. "I thought you were going to fall."
"So you are a bandraoi, like I thought."
"I guess so."
"Cre draiochta,isn't it?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Earth magic. You used blood magic before. You can use both."
"You're taking this very well, I must say."
It was true, Merida wasn't looking at her with terror or disgust, although she was still pale and her hands trembling. There was caution there, but that was no bad thing. Merida shrugged, probably in an attempt to look more confident than she felt.
"Draiocht is everywhere in Dunbroch. It's not the first time I've seen it. Not the way you do it though. Bandraoi live far away from everyone else, mostly."
Elsa felt the tension drain out of her.
"I don't use my powers often, just when it's needed. At the moment there's a problem with the ice on the North mountain and I am needed to set it right."
"Do your people know you have magic?" Merida asked, with an odd tone. "I can understand why you didn't want to tell me, but you haven't kept it from the common folk?"
"There was an… incident. I'll tell you about it some other time, I think one shock is enough for today. But yes, my people know."
"And… they're okay with you being their queen?"
Some of the tension returned. Elsa didn't like where this was going.
"Whether they're okay with it or not is of no consequence. I am their rightful ruler by blood."
But of course, blood meant nothing to a Ceilt. Merida made a face, not quite a frown but almost.
"Is magic frowned upon in Dunbroch then?" Elsa said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice and failing.
"Not at all," Merida responded coolly. "But for a ruler to have such an unfair advantage, the Gods have frowned upon it in the past. It's written in our legends. The Gods must think highly of you to allow you to continue as you are."
Elsa was about to correct her, to inform her that there was only one God, and He had nothing to do with her powers. But the diplomat in her pulled her back. It was not her place to assume her own culture was more acceptable than another's.
"I do not presume to know what any unearthly power has in mind for me," Elsa sighed. "I have ice powers, I use them when needed, and the rest of the time I am an ordinary queen doing my queenly duties."
That seemed to placate Merida, although she still looked quite grave. She nodded.
"Fair enough," she said. "It's not my place to question the Gods. Not here, anyway. Why do you think they gave you these powers, though?"
"I have no idea," Elsa lied.
…..
What Elsa knew, she knew from the book on one of the rare occasions that curiosity drove her to place a hair from her mother's hairbrush on the page, so she could know why she was so blessed.
The regret she felt afterwards stayed with her for weeks.
Iduna Eilebrecht was a lovely, cheerful girl with lustrous chestnut curls and a melodic voice. Her hand was sought in marriage from the moment she turned twelve and debuted at court, but her parents, sensible as they were, refused to agree to any matches until she turned eighteen. They were hoping for the highest honour for their only child.
This suited Iduna, for she was very much in love with Count Rasmun Haxthosen, who was twenty-two and was technically her half-uncle on her father's side. The Count was climbing the ladder of Dellian society and would make an excellent match for her once he'd risen high enough. Fifteen and madly in love, and so secure in the knowledge that this man was her trueborn husband, Iduna saw no reason to keep her affections to herself.
But Rasmun was hot-blooded and eager to make a name for himself, and with Arendelle committed to peace the only way for him to achieve battlefield glory was to journey East with a mercenary company. All of his military training could not protect him from the bloodborn diseases that lay in the warmer climes, and having spent only four days in battle his true battle was with the fever that boiled his brain and killed him after two agonizing weeks.
Iduna was distraught, not just for her fallen love but for the swelling belly that would betray her as a ruined girl. In desperation, she journeyed to the foothills to beg for the help of a woodland witch. She pleaded with the woman to take away her shame and preserve her good name. The witch helped her.
At eighteen, Iduna was married to a lesser prince, Agnarr of the queen's bloodline. He was a distant cousin of the prince who was due to inherit the throne, and the highest match that could be made for her at the time. He was kind, at least, and although he was a very pale shadow compared to her beloved Rasmun, Iduna could not fault his character.
A year after they married, the prince in line for the throne was taken with a winter chill and died. His father, the king, followed soon after. The prince's brother held the throne for two years before he, for reasons best known to himself, threw himself out of his bedroom window. Iduna suddenly held the highest female title in the land.
At twenty-one, she had yet to carry a living child. The dowager queen regarded her with suspicion, she was otherwise healthy in every way, so why no children?
Iduna suspected the witch had done her job too well, but she kept her peace. Surely it couldn't last forever?
Three years became five. Five became ten. At thirty years old even her husband, whose mind was so often on other things, was doubting her.
She returned to the witch. Threw herself at the woman's feet. Her husband was starting to look at other ladies of noble birth, from families noted for their fertility. The witch gave her a potion that would unlock her womb, but she warned of possible unseen consequences.
Iduna drank the potion.
Her belly swelled, and at the end of nine months she produced a healthy baby girl.
At six months, the baby shot a bolt of ice through a chandelier and nearly killed her wet nurse.
…..
Elsa was jolted out of her thoughts by Lua's return. It was past midnight now, and Merida had been waiting for the hawk since sunset. The bird flapped to the ledge to deliver her message and beg for food. Merida read the message for a moment, then sighed and rolled it up again. Elsa was glad of the opportunity to move onto another subject.
"Bad news from Cava?" she asked.
"No, no news. Same old nonsense. Doesn't matter how many times I tell Maudie the coast is too dangerous, she's still asking. She doesn't even tell me what the boys are up to. I wouldn't waste my time translating this one."
"I still have to translate it. For security. It's even more important now that you know about my abilities."
"It's not that big a deal," Merida muttered. "Everyone has brushes with magic. It'd be odd if you didn't."
"Even you?" Elsa laughed. "Would your Gods approve?"
"They'd not interfere. They didn't make a fuss when I changed Mum into a bear."
Elsa waited for a laugh to follow that comment, and was confused when Merida continued frowning at the letter. A bear? Had she heard that right?
"Excuse me, did you just say you turned…."
"Oh right, I never told you that story. I told Anna."
"A bear? You turned your mother into a bear?"
"She started it," Merida stated grimly.
"How….just, how?"
"You have ice powers, it's not that strange."
"Okay fine, but….why a bear?"
Merida shrugged. "It was all the bandraoi could do, I think."
Then, she did something Elsa wasn't expecting. She plucked three hairs from her head and handed them to Elsa, carefree.
"It'd take too long to go into it, if you want to know what happened you could use that book thing to see," she said, turning back to feed Lua.
It was a casual gesture on Merida's part that spoke volumes. She trusted Elsa with her personal history, even after Elsa had revealed herself to be dangerous. Elsa could have cried.
But there was work to do, and with that awkward task out of the way she bid Merida goodnight and left her company, clutching the hairs close to her heart.
