Apologies for the late update. SO I just realized I heisted the title of this from some book by a certain Donna Hatch. My bad; I don't own that either if anyone's seeking clarification. Anyways, now the movie's over! This has already taken a couple twists I hadn't imagined it to take, but I'm trying to keep the beast under control. The next couple chapters will take place in the same chunk of time, à la Lord of the Rings. Thanks for the reviews/faves/follows guys! Onward!
Elsa watched the soldiers travel down the mountain from her ruined balcony. The adrenaline from the fight with the two assassins had worn off quickly, leaving her in awe of what she had done. Some of it was wonder at the strength and capabilities of her powers, but more was shock that she had actually killed two men. She ran through the events in her head over and over again. It had almost seemed that someone else, something primal had taken over in that moment of need. I need to get this under control. The thought struck her with urgency. Of course she had spent the past God knows how many years trying to command her powers, but she was focused hiding rather that making use of them. People know now, so that's that. One corner of Elsa's mouth twitched up in the ghost of a smile. Might as well figure out what the hell I can do. She already had some sense of what she could do based on the palace she had created with nothing more than an idea in her mind. Not to mention the man she had skewered and the other she had entombed.
Her first thought was to renovate the ice castle. Seriously, I need more than one room in this place. I'm going to be up here for a while. I at least need a bed. The queen looked around her sanctum, seeing the blood frozen on the floor. What a mess. What if – and suddenly her thoughts shot off in a completely different direction. Anna. With that, her calm collapsed, and she began to shake. Oh my God – I just killed someone. I just killed someone. She had held their lives in her hand, and she snuffed them. What would Anna think? What would she say? Elsa thought of her sister. She didn't really know much of her younger sibling; this past – good Lord, was it just yesterday? – day was the first time she even seen her sister in years, the first time she had talked to her since the Accident. The two were essentially meeting each other for the first time all over again. And you made one hell of a first impression. She gritted her teeth, tears welling up in her blue eyes. What else could you have done? Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, forcing small drops of water out in the process. The past is in the past. What is done is done.
But is it? You hurt Anna today – physically and emotionally. She's your sister! How could you do that? Elsa moaned. It's for her own good – but she didn't seem concerned about that. She wanted to help you, and you not only rejected her, but harmed her. Your Anna. Anna's words, her tone echoed through her mind, haunting the queen: "I'm fine." She wanted to help you, dammit! What's there to help? I'm gone. I've hurt the one person who means anything to me. Anna had to see that. How, after years of pushing her away, shutting her out, does she still find it within herself to want to help me? Me! Elsa couldn't remember a day where her sister had not been at her door, sometimes asking, sometimes pleading for entrance. And you shut her out. You don't deserve her. She growled, noticing that a small blizzard had formed around her again. Goddammit!
With a titanic force of will, she laid the snow to rest. Doing so caused her to look over the gruesome scene that remained in the room. "Goddammit," she ground out. Elsa stalked towards the wall, shattering it with a gesture. As she continued onto the stairs, the room split from the rest of the icy structure and tumbled down the side of the mountain, causing a small avalanche in its wake. All evidence of the day's violence had been removed – excluding the massive crack in the palace and the damaged bridge. The queen observed these flaws, then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly. When she looked back up, the bridge had been repaired, and the castle restored to its former magnificence. I need a bedroom. She yawned at the thought, all the events of the day catching up to her. The sun was still high in the sky, but she had been up for almost three days; Elsa had not been able to sleep the night before the coronation because of her anxiety. She walked back up the stairs that she had gone down moments ago, continuing into her newly created bedroom. I guess I'm getting better at this whole magic thing. I wish Anna could see this. Dammit. Elsa fell back onto her bed, dissolving her elegant dress in the process. She had taken to the habit of sleeping naked, finding the climate in her room too warm for her liking when it wasn't covered in ice. The queen slid underneath the sheets, mind still racing. Her thoughts gravitated toward her sister; they did that more and more since she had seen her at the coronation. She wrenched her mind away from Anna, though. Hopefully I never see her again. Tears, uninhibited this time, flowed down her face. She fell asleep slowly, thoughts of her sister springing up, followed by a mental struggle to force them down. Finally, Elsa sank into unconsciousness. Anna, why must you torture me so?
Anna, why must you torture me so? Elsa's sister was walking towards her slowly. As she drew nearer, the queen began to take note of every feature on her sister's face. Her blue eyes tinged with green. The freckles gracing her cheeks and nose. Her inviting pink lips. Elsa's breaths began to quicken. What's happening? Her sister's hips were notceably moving underneath the green fabric of her dress. Those eyes were locked with hers as Anna walked to within a foot of Elsa. She was close enough to see her lashes, see each individual strand of that gorgeous red hair. Anna smirked.
"You're staring." Elsa drew a sharp breath in, snapping out of her reverie. "It's okay; I don't mind."
Elsa's eyes returned to her sister, travelling downwards. They traced the swell of her breasts, concealed beneath the black velvet – do the freckles continue down there? – before continuing to her trim waist, where the color of the gown changed from black to green. She suddenly felt a finger on the bottom of her chin, lifting her head back up. Anna's eyes were focused intensely on hers, occasionally flitting over at some feature on her own face. Elsa reddened slightly at the scrutiny. Her sister leaned forward, her breath softly wafting over her cheek.
"Walk with me," the princess whispered. She gently took Elsa's hand, and began to walk out of the ballroom. A few eyes followed them, but only a few. Even those that did took no note of the royal sisters' departure. The queen dumbly followed behind her sister, her eyes moving with a will of their own: glancing down the muscles moving minutely in her shoulders, her back, the widening of her hips. Where are we going? This thought was answered presently. The pair had travelled through a hallway – or rather, Anna had led, and Elsa had been drug along – into a small room graced with a fireplace on the left wall and a couch beyond it, facing them. The princess closed the door behind them, and locked it. What? Then Anna brought those pink lips to her own, and her brain simply shut down.
"Elsa..." she moaned, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this." Her sister's breath smelt of pine, her lips sinfully soft. Elsa didn't respond to the kiss; she hadn't moved at all. Her eyes were still open, unfocused. Anna stepped back, a worried look flashing over her face – and then the queen stepped forward, pushing her sister against the wall, kissing her passionately. She brought her hand up behind Anna's head, pressing their mouths tighter. Their mouths opened at the same instant, tongues darting out like snakes, twisting around, tasting each other. Elsa's hand dropped to her sister's shoulder, pushing one of the straps down her arm. Anna impatiently pulled her arm out, then returned her previous position, arms wrapped around her blonde sister. Small gasps and groans began to eminate from the two. Elsa moved her head lower and to the side, planting kisses on Anna's neck. Anna tilted her head back, resting it on the door behind her. She sighed as Elsa began kissing her collarbone, seeming to press her lips on each tiny freckle. Elsa paused in her adoration of her sister's body long enough to tug the black gown down her body, revealing her -
Elsa's eyes shot open, and she rocketed up. What the FUCK was that!? She was breathing heavily and her face was flushed, and she took note of the dampness between her legs. Elsa swept her hands over her cheeks and through her hair, brushing it back behind her. Okay. It was a dream. What the hell kind of dream though? Already, some details were beginning to escape her mind, but she remembered the feel – what I think they would feel? – of her sister's lips on her own. Her tongue ran itself over her lips rapidly, remembering the taste – for Chrissake, she's your SISTER! Elsa had never had feelings for anyone before, never felt attracted to anyone. She had always been protective of her sister, for that reason locking herself away, and respected her parents, but that was about it. This rush of emotions that entered her in the wake of the dream was completely foreign. Goddammit goddammit goddammit!She wanted to punch something, so she conjured up an ice plate and thrust her fist straight through it. Her eyes widened in shock and pain as her hand began to redden. Maybe a thinner plate next time. After placing her hand in an icy glove, she got out of bed. Time to meet the – night? Day? Don't even know what time it is – I should get a clock up here. As the queen stretched her body, a series of pops running up her spine, a dress materialized and formed itself to her body. She toyed with the icy fabric, twisting her leg through the slit on the right side around the back of the gown mindlessly. Where did that dream come from? For as long as she could remember, even seeing Anna had been off limits. Her parents had forbidden her from seeing her, which inevitably led to her sneaking out at night. Only once had she seen the princess, and even that had only been a glimpse. Beyond that, though, the sole contact the two sisters had had been when Anna came to her door, asking for entrance. Maybe that's why – I simply haven't seen her at all, and meeting her for pretty much the first time set this off. Objectively speaking – even without this swarm of emotions – her sister was an attractive woman.
Elsa allowed herself to entertain the notion for a brief moment. What if. What if I acted upon this – whatever the hell it is. What would happen? What would I even do? The more pressing question though – what would she do? Assuming, of course, Anna wouldn't run away, never to return to Arendelle. She would be safe at least. One corner of her mouth twitched. That's one way to take care of that problem. Tell her I have feelings for her. Elsa slumped to the ground in defeat. Who am I kidding. That's never going to happen. In her agitation, her palace began to tinge itself red, and sharp spikes began growing from the walls. Deep knocking and cracking sounds echoed through the chambers as new spires and towers were formed; reflecting her state of mind, these new structures were awe-inspiring and beautiful in a dark, angular sense.
When she arose an hour later, after running countless scenarios through her head to no avail, she forced everything to the back of her skull. Elsa regained her regal calmness, not allowing any of the emotions still surging to the surface every now and again to show or take root. Her thought process had become as ice: cold, calculating, straightforward. I need to deal with these issues. First and foremost was to secure her person against any future attacks. If two men can get through so easily, something is clearly wrong. She created two snow golems this time, outfitting each of them with a mace of ice. Added onto the front of her castle was a keep of sorts, a small room between two sets of doors. Elsa built a series of locks into the doors themselves that would only be accessible by her or someone who somehow beat their way into their interior workings. That should do for now. Of course, seeing that they couldn't defeat me last time with a handful of troops, they are sure to send up an entire platoon next time. Hell, someone down in Arendelle could decide I am a threat to the realm and command the local militias to augment the royal guard and send hundreds of soldiers my way. She refused to even contemplate her sister coming up to visit her again, knowing that as soon as she did, her self-control would rapidly devolve again. No. I am still the queen, even if I am in a self-imposed exile, and must conduct myself as such.
In the three years since her parents' deaths, Gerda and Kai had been de facto rulers of the kingdom. The bishop had been the regent due to his elevated role in the kingdom, but those two had been the two who truly ruled, being as they were more involved in all manners of the nation's affairs. It was they who saw the urgent need to teach Elsa the ways of the royalty, the mannerisms and such. The young queen had seen this as a political and social extention of his command to "conceal, don't feel." A year before her coronation, she had begun attending committee meetings, discussing a variety of topics including the state of the economy and navy, foreign policy, border security, and others. One touchy subject was the question of what to do with the men in the north who had still not quite accepted the rule of the house of Aren. The King of Weselton had been content to let them be, provided of course they kept to themselves in their dark, cold forests, but King Aren had seen differently. He believed it was the duty of every Arendellian to contribute something, even if it was a little, to the kingdom in the belief this would bolster national pride. In the wealthier south, it had the desired affect, but in the north, it was disregarded entirely. The tax collectors who had ventured into the region had return empty-handed, bearing messages that warned of future strife if such action was tried again. King Adgar had returned to a live and let live policy, but Elsa agreed with her grandfather. In addition to meetings, Gerda and Kai instructed the queen on dining ettiquitte, proper greetings and social customs for the varying levels of society she was to deal with, and an in-depth history of Arendelle before and after King Aren's secession – mostly before. In short, it was everything but what she needed the most: guidance on her powers.
Even after her impressive displays over the past couple days, Elsa still felt the acute lack of such guidance. She felt as though her creations were crude, and she was missing the finesse of the detail work. Over time it will come. I have all the time in the world now. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled. Ah shit. She hadn't eaten since the ball, and was feeling pangs of hunger. In her rush to escape the castle, she hadn't brought any food. Christ almighty, Elsa. You spend so much time worrying, you should have planned something out. Come on, woman. Think. Wait – didn't I pass some tavern or building on the way here? The queen had been in such a hurry that she had scarcely noticed her surroundings on her climb. I think I did. I probably should check down there. Can I risk initiating human contact though? Her stomach growled loudly. I don't have much of a choice. Elsa's smooth brow furrowed in a frown as she considered what could happen at the encounter. Just stay calm. Be a queen. Drawing in a deep breath through partially pursed lips, she strode out the doors of the castle, leaving the two snow golems stationed in front of the bridge. She paused, then as an added precation removed the bridge entirely. It's not like I can't make it again. Well, let's get this over with.
Elsa had been walking down the mountain for about thirty minutes before she let a short bark of a laugh. Seriously? I can cast ice. What the hell am I doing, walking in snow? With no further ado, she created a sled pulled by an icy reindeer. Needing no verbal prompting from the queen, the beast leaped into action, smoothly pulling the sled behind it, a sheet of ice appearing behind it as it travelled that smoothed the ride for her. They entered the forest at a decent clip, the reindeer's hooves sinking lightly into the snow-covered ground. It was a young forest, the trees close together but not dense. They grew tall enough to where the light at the ground level was definitely dimmer than normal but not to ridiculous heights. Trees that fit that description could be found in the north of the kingdom.
A high, keening sound swept through the forest, whirling through the boughs of the trees. Must be the wind. Even as she reassured herself, she heard the cry again – coming from a different direction. Her eyes widened slightly, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. Okay. Not the wind. A howl, much closer, came from behind the sled. Then she spied a shadowy figure low to the ground fifty yards ahead. Wolves. Of course, she had never seen one, only read about them in stories and seen them in paintings. They were much more terrifying in real life. As each moment passed, more and more of the furred creatures appeared. Within seconds, they had surrounded the sled as so many points on a compass. Elsa felt herself slipping away from her body for the second time in as many days. As the subconscious warrior took control, the sled and reindeer disintegrated. A few of the wolves whined in confusion, but that was quickly swept away as they resumed their ferocious snarl. A thin smile graced Elsa's lips before she threw her right arm heavenward. Following the gesture was a wall of ice that separated her from the wolves on that side. As the limb dropped across her body, her gown was replaced by plate armor, angular and thin. A wolf leaped at her with a gaping maw, but she thrust an arm straight between its jaws, blowing its brains out the back of its skull with a concentrated blast of ice. Another had pounced on her opposite side. With little time, and relying almost entirely on instinct, her arm swung around to meet the beast. Ah, shit – this'll hurt she thought before making contact. However, upon impact, the queen felt no pain, only a slight pressure on her forearm. The wolf, though, was a different story. A ridge in her armor had pierced the right side of its face, cracking the bone just beneath the eye socket. With a mangled face, the attacker retreated into the woods.
The rest of the pack had slowly backed off, beginning to treat her as a more dangerous creature than they were used to hunting. In situations like this, they often hounded the animal to death, darting in and dealing sharp bites to their quarry. That could last days, but the wolves never let up during that time. Eventually, their prey collapsed from exhaustion, blood loss, and shock, and the beasts went in for the kill. Elsa knew this, having read about wolves in her childhood, having found the creatures fascinating. That, however, was in an abstract sense; this was life or death. She went on the offensive. Not even bothering to close the distance with any single creature, she began throwing up spikes indiscriminately from the ground. Wolves unlucky enough to be caught in the path of these icicles were immediately impaled. Snarls of intimidation rapidly became howls of anguish and yelps of pain. The few that survived scampered off into the woods. She turned her attention to the dying animals around her, some transfixed as many as six feet above the ground. A few had already given up their spirits, but one in particular caught her attention. Its fur was singed on its face – what was left of it at least. A spike had plowed through its lower jaw and exited just behind its left eye, popping it out of its socket; the only part of the wolf's body that was touching the ground were its two hind legs, and those were only dangling. She gave a feral snarl mirroring the visage contorted in rigor mortis that faced her, relishing in her victory.
After resting for a brief period of time and creating a tiny ball of ice that never shrank in her mouth to provide a constant trickle of refreshing water down her throat, Elsa continued on down the slope. Before she left, she had traded the armor that had been spattered with flecks of blood for her usual – as of late – icy gown. It wasn't too much further now; she could see a tendril of smoke a few miles off. The sun was beginning to set over the mountains off to the west that marked the far border of Arendelle. In no time, the queen was being transported downhill again on a sled. By the time she had reached the source of the smoke, it was dark. Constellations were splayed across the heavens, and the full moon was high in the night sky. Elsa had always loved the night: looking up and seeing eternity staring right back at her, the absolute beauty of even a single star. I wonder if Anna's freckles match a pattern in that sky. Wait – what the hell? She forced that thought down. Conceal, don't feel. That saying had a curious way of applying to a variety of situations the queen found herself in.
The "restaurant" she thought she had seen earlier had actually been two separate buildings: a stable off to one side, and a cabin that proclaimed itself as "Wandering Oaken's Trading Post." Beneath that sign dangled another, almost as an afterthought: "And Sauna." She walked in, and rapidly took in her new surroundings. There weren't much. The entire store consisted of a couple shelves and some racks on the walls. One of the walls was occupied by a furry monstrosity, both in size and pattern. A door on the far end of the room was fogged up – must be the sauna. Suddenly the furry wall moved. And talked. "Yoo hoo! Big summer blowout!" The giant was speaking with a thick Scandanavian accent. What in the hell is this? Elsa turned toward the voice, mouth hanging open. "Ooh! I think a girl was in here looking for you!" Wait – what?
"Wh-who?" Elsa stammered, caught in a rare moment of uncertainty of speech. "Could you describe her?"
"She was a young one, like you, with red hair. Seemed to be quite the talker."
"Anna?"
"Hmm. She never said her name, but she was with this stocky fellow who wanted some rope and carrots. Not really sure why. He was rather rude." That must have been the man with her. He didn't seem rude – of course, you only saw him for a few seconds.
"I am sorry to hear that, Mr..." she said, gesturing towards him.
"Ah – Oaken, miss."
"Mr. Oaken. Would you happen to have any food for sale?"
"I am sorry, but I am all out. No more foodstuffs here." Just then, Elsa's stomach rumbled loudly. His expression softened. "But then, I do have my own personal stock that I could get you things from. Is there anything in particular that you want?"
"Um," oh yeah – real elegant – "not especially. Something warm, preferably."
"Ooh – that may take a little bit. Just give me a bit to heat up this moose and cut some bread. The meat might be a bit gamey but it'll still fill you up, eh?" As he said this, Oaken had moved through a door and down a set of stairs. Elsa moved slightly to see where he had disappeared to, but he had turned a corner into what appeared to be a cellar of sorts.
"Would you like any of my lutefisk? I have been told it is very good."
"No, thank you, Mr. Oaken. Just the meat and bread will be fine. And some wine if you have it."
"You got it miss." He thumped his way back up the stairs, and placed a wooden tray with a plate of steaming meat, a hunk of bread, and a mug containing wine on the counter. "I am sorry – I couldn't find any cups so I hope the mug is fine for your drink."
She didn't even bother responding, preferring instead to begin tearing into the food. Two decades worth of etiquitte training and lessons in fine dining were forgotten in an instant. Damn, this is good. I should get the castle to serve moose. Then she remembered the circumstances leading to her eating moose in the first place.
After a few minutes of furious eating, the plate was clean and the mug empty. Feeling pleasantly full, she thanked Oaken and asked how much he was owed.
"It's fine, really. I make it a policy to help hungry travelers. Not too many make it out this way, especially in these strange conditions." Elsa's face burned.
After thanking the man again, Elsa bid him a good night and walked outside. She reentered the sled, and rode back up to the patch of woods that still contained the corpses of a score of wolves. Elsa had deconstructed the icicles upon her departure, with the result being bloody furry bodies littering the ground. She felt an odd satisfaction at being the cause of the destruction, but her rational mind rose to the fore. People can't find this – if they see these corpses, I'll be instantly suspected. With that thought in mind, with what the people of Arendelle would do to her – or even worse, her sister, the queen began moving the snow under the wolves, giving the eerie effect of the limp bodies gliding across the landscape. Once they were far enough away from the path for her liking, Elsa shifted the snow and ice around on the path to the point that no one would be able to tell anyone had passed, much less been engaged in combat. All the blood had been hidden and spread out.
Involving herself in such work led to Elsa thinking back to the fight. Now, without instincts to guide her, she wondered how she made it out of that situation alive, without even a scratch. Damn. I am good. Even so, two wolves had gotten close enough to potentially harm her, maybe even kill her. I need to work on my combat effectiveness. She decided to set up a course the next day that would improve her reflexes and aim with moving, unpredictable targets. If Hans or whoever that bastard is shows up again, I'll slaughter his ass. With such a pleasant image in her head, she continued her journey.
On the ride back to her palace, Elsa's thoughts wandered, inevitably leading to her little sister. Which included the feelings for her. Hell, I don't even know what I feel for her. Maybe that dream was a one-time thing, and all this is just residual from it. Still, she was a bit scared to fall asleep again because she could have another dream like that. Well, maybe it wasn't the dream.She attempted to analyze this the same way she had done with the fight. Maybe all this is an extension of my protective feelings for her. Being forcefully separated for a decade might have something to do with it. Everything might have just morphed into something... more. She was honestly terrified of what that "more" meant, though. I can't have emotions like this for my sister. That's seriously wrong! It's a grievous sin, having an attraction for another woman, especially my sister – but beyond that, I have a duty to my kingdom. Elsa wasn't even sure what was happening in Arendelle, with the eternal winter and all. Who's even in charge? A shock ran down her spine as she realized that by her flight, she had thrust all the responsibility of command upon her sister. And you find another way to wrong her.
By this time, the sled had reached the gap in the mountain, across from which rose the icy castle. With a flick of the wrist, Elsa reformed the bridge – but in her agitated state, it lacked none of the flowery grace of before. Rather, it was an angular, sharp construct that seemed just as likely to impale someone as to give them passage across the chasm. She ignored it and continued across, blowing the doors open with a massive gust of wind and slamming them shut again behind her. When she reached her bed, the queen dropped onto it, causing a flurry of snow to kick up. I guess the best thing to do would see Anna again, maybe talk to her, then go from there. That's problematic, though, since I can't let myself near her, because I will inevitably hurt her. Again. For the second night in a row, thoughts of her sister tormented her; Elsa wanted to be near her, but couldn't allow herself to. Anna, why must you torture me so?
She awoke the next morning to a loud knocking that echoed throughout the castle.
I figured it was high time to kick this whole Elsanna thing into gear. I hope it wasn't too abrupt though. Plus I figured out that Frozen is/was set in 1840s Norway which gave me a couple plot ideas. I toyed with the idea of Hans being a raging communist (the Manifesto being published in '48), but that clashed with his princely title. Review the hell out of this thing por favor. I'm debating giving Hans his own chapter next, but I think that would detract from the plot too much as it would focus heavily on his own history and not feature these characters too much.
Edit as of 24 December: Changed a few things here – I ought to update with a new chapter within a week.