Spoilers: Frozen! Obviously.
AN: Much like Head Above Water, this story is going to consist of snapshots of things that happened during All It Cost that didn't fit into the story's flow, and the events after the story, leading up to the next story. If you have not read All It Cost this story will not make sense so I highly suggest you go "Mmmbop" your way on over there.
Apologies to those that have read these first to scenes in Head Above Water. I decided for organizational purposes and removing All It Cost spoilers from Head Above Water, I do want to split things up.
If you want to know what family is, look at the side lines, the audience, the people clapping, the ones telling you how much faith they have in you. That's what family is about.
All It Cost- Chapter 52 - Elsa's POV for part of the 2nd scene.
The sharp crack of ice drew her attention. Elsa watched in horror as Tyr flailed and stumbled. His face twisted in intense fear and pain as ice, her ice, crawled across his chest, devouring him. She hated Tyr with a passion that she knew would disappoint her parents. But despite that hate, despite everything he'd done to her and her sister, Elsa would never in a thousand years have wished this fate upon him.
She turned away, eyes shut tight against the scene, but it didn't help. This was her ice, her magic, and in the courtyard, among the rain and debris, was nothing to distract or block the connection. She felt the ice move across his skin, turning flesh and bone to cold, solid ice. The feeling turned her stomach and squeezed the air from her lungs.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if Tyr was aware of what was happening to him. Whether he could feel it, and if it was as painful for him as it was for her. How much had Anna felt when she was on the other end of Elsa's ice? Maybe they were right. Maybe she was nothing more than a—
"Your Majesty?"
The scene broke against a sudden presence, the warm hand against her shoulder.
Elsa worked her eyes open, blinking as she tried to bring the room back into focus. It took longer than it should have to remember. She was relieved to find she was home, and nauseated at the realization that the last two months had actually happened, that it hadn't all been some horrible dream.
She turned her attention to the man sitting beside the bed. "Malthe," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
A soft smile stretched across the old physician's face, though she could still see concern crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Good morning, Your Majesty. I have some water here, and a bit of broth I'd like you to drink."
Elsa shifted in bed, attempting to push herself into a seated position, but stopped when her hand encountered a warm body next to her. She glanced over, unsurprised to find her little sister sleeping deeply at her side. She carefully worked her way up, the doctor's hand on her back, providing some much-needed assistance.
He waited as she caught her breath before offering a cup. "Just some plain water, ma'am."
Elsa nodded and carefully took the cup. It was half full, allowing the water to splash harmlessly against the sides as tremors caused the cup to shake unsteadily. She couldn't help but wonder if the good doctor had done that purposefully, but decided not to ask, choosing to pretend it was mere providence.
"How are you feeling?"
Elsa sipped the water while she considered the question. "Better. Like I can almost stay awake for a whole five minutes," she said, not bothering to hide the frustration in her voice.
Malthe offered a sympathetic smile. "You've been through quite a lot in a very short amount of time. And while you may feel better, it will still be awhile before we make it past the withdrawal." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I know how much you hate hearing it, Your Majesty, but right now, sleep isthe best thing for you."
Elsa sighed heavily. "I know. I just hate…" She shook her head, unable to put her frustration into words, her need to do something productive rather than laying in bed all day. She took another deep breath, finishing the water before trading it for the broth. Elsa tried not to wrinkle her nose as the small amount of water she had managed sat heavy in her stomach.
"I understand, ma'am." He set the empty cup aside. "What about your magic?" Malthe asked in a tone that was equal parts curious and cautious.
"My magic? It's—" She was about to say "fine." but stopped as she realized that wasn't exactly true. There was something off about her magic. It was subtle enough that she didn't even detect anything until she focused on it. Elsa thought back to the other day. "When I first woke up, or at least when I remember waking up, I tried to toss some flurries at Anna, but nothing happened. I assumed it was just a result of…well, everything, but I'm guessing now… it's more than that?"
"Possibly."
Elsa watched as the normally succinct man stalled, scrubbing his hand over his mouth like he was looking for the best way to break unfavorable news. "Malthe?" she prompted.
"Your Majesty, you must understand—"
Her stomach twisted as she realized she really wasn't going to like whatever the doctor was about to say.
"—you were dying, ma'am. And I really can't overstate just how close we came to losing you. I believe had we not acted, you would not have made it to the end of the day."
"Malthe," Elsa said, working to keep her voice calm and even. "What did you do?"
The old physician took a deep breath and let it out. "Rayna claimed that the apothecary's notebook contained a potion which they administered to their mages when they were critically injured and dying."
Her fingers tightened around the forgotten cup. Another potion. Another drug, or medication, or whatever they chose to call it. Elsa shut her eyes and drew deliberate breaths, reminding herself that she trusted Malthe, and she trusted her sister. They would never give her something without her consent unless there had been no other choice.
She took another moment to steady herself before asking, "and this…potion, it's doing something to my magic?"
"We don't know much about magic, but between what Rayna told me and the apothecary's notes, I believe the potion—" he paused, searching for the correct words. "I believe it somehow uses your magic to assist the body in healing."
"But you don't know how?"
He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm sorry. The notes were fairly extensive on the what, but not the how."
A wave of exhaustion washed over Elsa. Even sitting here, doing nothing but talking, was frustratingly draining. She took a moment to gather herself before continuing the conversation. "You took a pretty big gamble on something we know so little about, and you barely know Ray. I'm surprised you trusted her with this."
Malthe dipped his chin. "Under other circumstances I wouldn't have but, Your Majesty, I helped bring you into this world. I have known you your entire life. You trusted Rayna enough to invite her to live in the castle, and I trust your judgement."
She jerked her head back, not expecting the words nor the sincerity behind them. "Even after everything that happened?" she couldn't help but ask, her voice a broken whisper.
"Especially after everything that happened."
Elsa felt her breath catch in her throat. She turned her head away as her eyes misted. She took a few steadying breaths, trying to calm the sudden rush of emotion before daring to speak again. "Thank you, Malthe. I—thank you, for everything."
"It has been, and will always, be my honor and privilege to serve you and your family."
"So," Elsa said after a moment, "this potion is why I couldn't use my magic before?" She looked down at the cup in her hand and tried to summon a thin coating of frost on the porcelain, frowning when she failed. "Or now."
Malthe tilted his head, expression sympathetic. "The notes don't explicitly say, but it is likely. According to Rayna, the mages don't use their magic again until they are well into recovery. However, their magic came from the crystals where yours is natural, so we can't be sure how the source will alter the outcome or side effects." He paused a moment before asking, "Do you know—does your magic feel any different?"
Elsa turned her focus inward as she searched for an answer. She could still feel her magic, the thrum of power that lay just beneath her skin. But now that she was concentrating on it, she could tell it was different. "It feels…" she chewed on her bottom lip. How did you explain something to someone who had no point of reference? Who couldn't even begin to understand what it felt like to have this power buzzing just below the surface? It was like trying to explain what it feels like to breathe.
She recalled a conversation with Markkus about the nature of her magic versus theirs, and the analogy he had used. "When I'm not using my magic, I can still feel it like a calm river flowing just beneath the surface. When I'm using my magic, that flow speeds up like swift rapids or a flood." Elsa's fingers tensed around the cup in her hands. "Right now, my magic feels like it does when I'm using it, but it doesn't feel…suppressed? Like it's being used." Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know how else to explain it."
"There's no need to apologize, ma'am. I believe I understand. At least, better than I did before. I don't believe there will be any issues. The ingredients used in the potion were fairly common medicinal herbs, except the snowdrop thistle."
Elsa tilted her head. "Snowdrop thistle? Is that not the plant that gives me trouble every spring?"
Malthe nodded. "Yes, ma'am. While making the remedy, I had thought to substitute it with a similar plant, but Rayna was adamant that the thistle was the most important ingredient. Now, I can't help but wonder…" He paused for a moment before continuing. "I can't help but wonder if your previous reaction was, in fact, an allergic reaction and not something else."
"You think my magic was reacting to it?"
"It's possible. Unfortunately, we know very little about your magic, or any magic for that matter. But with Your Majesty's permission, I would like to do a bit more research. Perhaps with the apothecary's notes and Rayna's help, we can learn a bit more. I would also like to keep a close eye on how your magic behaves over the next few weeks."
Elsa nodded slowly. "Yes, of course." There was a tightness in her chest that she didn't understand. A sort of discontent at not being able to use her magic. It was absurd. She spent most of her life wishing she could get rid of her magic. She should feel relieved, happy for the respite. Instead, it felt like some part of her was out of her reach and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't grab hold of it and return it to where it belonged.
"I do have good news, ma'am."
Elsa shifted her gaze back to the doctor.
"I would like to switch the medication you're on. Something lighter, and easier on the appetite." Malthe looked pointedly at the barely touched cup of broth.
Elsa gave him an apologetic smile and took another sip of the broth, fighting not to wince. After a few more sips, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head, handing the cup back off to Malthe. "I'm sorry, I can't…"
The old doctor smiled gently at her. "It's okay, ma'am. It's been a while since you had a decent meal, likely longer than we are aware. It will take time for your appetite to return. Till then, it's imperative that you drink water and eat what you can, when you can. Even if it's just a few sips of broth each time you wake."
Elsa allowed her eyes to slide shut, feeling exhausted about the prospect of the coming weeks. She didn't want to come across as petulant or ungrateful. She had put everyone through hell, and the worst part was they had all willingly walked through that hell to save her from herself. Elsa was determined to try to, for once, do as the doctor ordered. She took a breath, then looked back over at the doctor and nodded. "I will try."
"Switching to lighter pain meds will help, ma'am. Not all at once, of course. But we'll reduce the amount and frequency of the painkillers you are currently on. The new medication is less potent, so you will have to be honest with your level of pain."
A soft snort from her other side brought a smile to Elsa's face. "Morning, sleepyhead."
Anna stretched and shifted herself higher up on the bed as Elsa thought about the desperation her little sister must have felt, to place her hopes not only in the hands of a Vindarr child, but in the notebook of the man who created the blood clover.
Everything that had happened since they set sail towards home was hazy at best. She had vague recollections of blurry faces, unbearable pain, and a fire that threatened to consume her. She knew things had gotten bad, but she hadn't known…
The worry she had for her sister grew tenfold. Elsa couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Anna, to have to watch someone you love suffer so. To watch them slip away, unable to do anything to stop it. She would make it up to her sister, even if it took the rest of her life.