AN: Good Morning, afternoon, and evening. Bet y'all thought I forgot about this story and it's companion piece. I did not. Just started working on some other stuff, got distracted and now find myself wondering back like a lost little writer. I can't promise anything but I would like to add to this story, little snap shots of All It Cost, things that take place after that don't quite fit into the flow of a normal story. So we will see what happens.
If you want something you never had, you have to do something you've never done.
-Someone
Between Chapter 52 and 53 of All It Cost.
Voices echoed all around her. The lighting was too dim to make out faces, so Elsa strained to understand what was being said. She could only catch snatches of the muffled, warbly words.
"… won't remember?"
"No… memories… there, but locked away."
The first voice sounded like Markkus, the second she recognized, but she didn't know who he was, only that the deep timbre sent a shock of fear straight down her spine. She blinked hazily up at the shadowy figures standing over her prone form; the words moving between them, sending lances of pain through her aching head. She felt exhausted, like she hadn't slept in days. She wanted to curl onto her side, but the bands of pressure across her chest, wrists, and ankles kept her immobile. She had tried freeing herself already, struggling against the straps until she felt blood welling in the spots where they tore into her skin, but it was useless.
One of the shadowy figures shifted, moving closer to her head, and pressed icy fingers against her temples. Elsa's breath hitched and her heart rate picked up, hammering against her chest in anticipation of the agony she knew was soon to follow. There was a moment of tense silence before an explosion of pain ricocheted through her skull. It engulfed her as images and sounds she didn't understand raced through her mind. She bit down on the cloth shoved between her teeth, but it didn't stop the muffled scream that echoed through the room, soaked in pain and agony. Somewhere in the back of her tortured mind, she realized the scream was her own.
Elsa's eyes snapped open, and she lurched upright, her chest heaving and her heart racing in an unsteady rhythm. She ripped the covers from her legs and stumbled from the bed, not stopping until her stomach pressed painfully against the railing of her balcony. She wrapped her fingers around the polished wood, sucking in deep gulps of clean ocean air.
She leaned over the railing as her breathing settled and the pounding within her chest steadied. Slowly, the adrenaline caused by the nightmare drained out of her, leaving her shaky. She sank to the ground, leaning back against the ornate railing. Elsa drew her knees up close to her chest and wrapped her trembling arms around herself.
It had been a few days since Malthe switched medications. Something Elsa embraced wholeheartedly as she'd grown tired of the hazy, muddled feeling caused by the heavier drugs. She was eager to return to work, or at least whatever form of work she could manage without incurring the wrath of her sister, Malthe, and a number of other people.
It was another step on the long road to recovery, but she hadn't realized just how much the heavier medication was holding at bay. More than the pain from her injuries, the medicine had clouded her mind, kept her sleep dreamless and her thoughts slippery. Now there was nothing standing between Elsa and her thoughts. Between her and the nightmares that haunted her sleep.
She dragged her fingers through her tangled hair, pushing it away from her face. The nightmares varied. Most were echoes of what had happened up north—of almost losing Anna, the feel of soldiers dying against her ice, the memory of fighting for her life. The dreams bothered her, left her chest tight and her heart racing, but the feeling left behind was nothing compared to this last one.
It terrified Elsa. The last time she had this dream, it had taken the better half of an hour before she stopped shaking. She didn't know why this nightmare bothered her so much more than the others; it felt so real, playing out like memories she didn't have, events that had never occurred. Elsa wrapped a hand around her wrist and drew it close to her chest. The abrasions were gone, healed over, but the memory of them remained.
The nightmare was just that, a nightmare. Just her mind conjuring things that never happened. At least Elsa couldn't remember anything like that happening, but she was still missing almost three days.
Elsa rested her head in her hand, trying to banish the thoughts. The dreams, the nightmares—they would fade, eventually. She just needed time, needed distance between her and the memories. She needed a distraction.
A familiar knock at her bedroom door pulled Elsa from her spiraling thoughts. After a momentary pause, she heard the door creak open.
"Elsa?" Her sister's soft voice floated through the room.
Elsa ran her fingers over her hair, flattening the tangles into something vaguely resembling presentable before she answered quietly. "On the balcony."
Anna's face immediately pinched with worry and concern as she stepped through the doors. "What are you doing out here?"
"Just wanted some air."
Anna pressed her lips into a thin line, like she didn't quite believe her, but refrained from commenting. "Mind if I join you?"
Elsa had to tap down on the flare of irritation the look caused. She's just worried, and she has a right to be. You put her through hell. Elsa gestured to the spot next to her and Anna took it as permission, sitting on the polished wood. They sat there in comfortable silence, listening to the waves crashing far beneath them.
Elsa squinted up at the rising sun. "You're up early."
"The council wanted an update on things. On how you're doing. Malthe was there. They also wanted to know what you want to do about the Sirma and the Vindarr."
Elsa wrinkled her nose. She hadn't yet decided. She needed to meet with certain members of the council before she could make such a decision. It needed to be done sooner rather than later. Waiting until she felt better wasn't an option. The longer they left things in the air, the greater the chance of someone trying to take matters into their own hands. Perhaps she could talk to Kai later.
Elsa set the thought aside for later and turned her attention back to Anna. "What did Malthe tell them?"
"Not much," Anna answered. "He said you were improving as expected."
"Nothing else?"
Anna smirked. "He sort of gave some of the less patient council members a dressing down. Particularly Bjarke. For a guy ready to throw you to the wolves, he sure seems eager for you to return to work."
Elsa rolled her eyes. "With me out of the picture and you not yet twenty-one, he was hoping to insert his own regent. Someone he could control. The amendment I had Alarik write up in Hasvik kept him from doing just that. He doesn't want you acting as regent because he knows he can't bully or control you."
Anna frowned. "But he can't control or bully you either."
"No, he can't. But you are an unknown quantity. For a politician, there is nothing worse than the unknown. Politics is all about subtle manipulation, offering one hand in friendship while arming the other. Pretty words hiding personal agendas."
"I remember you saying something like that on the way to Valle," Anna said, nodding.
A smile brushed Elsa's lips, recalling the memory that felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. "That's right. Consider this lesson number two in politics. In politics, everyone is angling for something, and they won't hesitate to use any means necessary. Manipulation is easiest when you know your opponent. Bjarke knows me. Knows how hard to push, when to back off, how to phrase a request that will ensure the most favorable outcome."
"But if you know he's doing that, why let him?"
"Because I do the same," Elsa said honestly. "I need things from him, from the other councilors or foreign ambassadors, or even the barons. I have used pretty words in the past to convey thinly veiled threats when needed. Rarely, mind you. But I am no more innocent of it than Bjarke. The only difference is most of us have far more tact than he does."
Anna narrowed her eyes, studying Elsa. She cocked her head. "You enjoy it?"
Elsa couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. "I'll admit there is nothing quite like a game of verbal chess. Things would be easier if everyone spoke plainly, said exactly what they needed or wanted. But there is satisfaction in knowing you outsmarted and out maneuvered your opponent."
Anna shook her head. "Sounds exhausting."
Elsa chuckled. "Sometimes."
Anna smiled, but the expression slipped too quickly off her face, replaced with something more pensive.
"What is it?"
Anna shifted, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "If something were to happen to you, I'm currently next in line to the throne. Which means after I turn twenty-one, the responsibility automatically falls to me. You named me regent even though you didn't have to. It was an extra step that, had events not played out like they did, wouldn't have been necessary." She turned to Elsa with wide, questioning eyes.
Elsa opened her mouth, a quick reassurance on her lips, but she stopped, instead pressing her lips into a thin line. "I was scared," she said after a moment, the words escaping before she could change her mind.
"Scared?"
Elsa nodded slowly. "I was scared that—" She turned her gaze away from her sister, training it onto the rolling sea beyond the railing. "I remembered years ago reading about Joan of Arc. How she was—different. Regardless of where her visions came from, she used them to help her people, and she was eventually imprisoned and burnt at the stake for her efforts. I had just frozen half the kingdom and left Arendelle's harvests destroyed. I did nothing with my magic but hide it and then hurt people with it."
Anna shifted closer, her shoulder pressing against Elsa's. "You were afraid someone would come for you? Would try to…" She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.
Elsa took a deep breath, realizing that the fear was still there, hiding just below the surface. "I was. But more than that, I was afraid that if something happened to me, you'd be too young to legally take the throne. That meant the council would appoint a regent until you turned twenty-one."
She took a moment to gather her thoughts, wanting to explain as clearly as possible, but she was struggling to put her fears into words. "With someone else acting as regent, your power would be severely limited," she told her sister. "You could sit in on council meetings and give opinions, but ultimately the decisions would be in the hands of the regent. Power can be very alluring and once people have it, they aren't likely to give it up. I couldn't trust anyone to have and keep your best interests in mind, so I named you regent to ensure you would have what you needed to protect yourself."
"But the amendment in Hasvik?"
Elsa turned back to her sister. "I was fixing an oversight in the original law. As the law stood, there was a loophole that the council could exploit and fight if they really wanted to. The amendment I wrote closed that loophole."
Anna stared down at the ground. Elsa watched her, wishing she knew what was going through her little sister's mind. Finally, Anna nodded. "That's why father did the same for you."
A wrinkle folded Elsa's brow. "What?"
"Admiral Naismith said you did it shortly after your coronation and much for the same reason father did."
Elsa drew her head back. She opened her mouth, ready to correct Anna, to tell her that their father had named her regent to give her experience ruling. But she realized her father never had to write such a decree. Elsa had been free to sit in on council meetings, and the things she signed off on in the first few weeks had been minor. Inventory reports, ledgers. Things she had signed off on before with her father's blessing. The decree hadn't been necessary unless their father was worried about the same thing she had been. That something was going to happen, that she'd need to protect herself and Anna.
The official trip had been to the south, but that's not where their parents had sailed. He wrote the decree because he had been afraid that he wouldn't be coming back. The realization turned to ice in Elsa's chest, and she was once more struck with a need to know where her parents had gone, and why. What had been so important that they had taken such a risk? That they would leave their daughters all alone?
Anna placed a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Elsa said, then paused, letting out a deep sigh and shaking her head. "No. I'm not." She turned to Anna. "Are you?"
"No. Not really." Anna smiled sadly. "But we will be, right?"
Elsa wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders and pulled her close. "Yeah, Snowbug. We will be."