I cannot run forever.
Out of breath and alone, Elsa's pace slowed. The trail of ice she had left in her wake gleamed conspicuously in the moonlight, contrasted as it was against the dirt and brush. She sighed and tried to will the ice away. Failing to do so, she inhaled deeply, dry air filling her as she tried to collect her thoughts.
Conceal, don't feel. Think. Hans lied about Anna, but everything he said came true anyway. She froze, and shattered, and then… I don't remember. How did I get here? She glanced down at the shard of ice in her hand. I still have a piece of Anna to remember her by.
She reached up, and with a wave of her hand, fashioned a thin chain of ice to which she attached the shard, donning it as a pendant necklace. The silence was broken by a slight wind, rustling through the brush near her feet.
I'll never hear Anna's voice again. Or hear her knock on my door. Or… or… Another deep breath. Don't feel. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around herself. Don't feel. The air grew colder, and she felt bits of snow on her skin. Don't feel.
A voice, very nearby, interrupted her thoughts. "We are far from home, aren't we?"
Ice flew from her fingertips before she knew what was happening, driving spikes upwards from the ground and into the body of the newcomer, but it passed straight through him without incident. He stared at her unflinchingly, ignoring the ice.
He was clad in an ostentatious horned helm, bronze armor, and green cape, with a wide grin that did not reach his eyes. The spear in his hand was unlike any she had ever seen before, but he was not wielding it in a threatening manner. His blue eyes blazed at her.
"A queen out of time. Blood infused with the magic of Jotunheim, and beauty to match her power. You radiate magic as a beacon on this otherwise mundane and pathetic world; I knew of no mortals with access to such power."
What? If I am out of time, then I really am dead? And he refers to mortals as separate from himself… "Who are you?"
He gave a slight, somewhat mocking, bow, the grin never leaving his face. "I am Loki, of Asgard, and you wield a power not of this world. I sensed your magic when you fought the cretins who would chain you. Lesser beings, they who fear and hunt and persecute you, jealous and in awe of your magic. Those with great power have a responsibility and a duty to rule over lesser men."
His smile was unsettling, and the coldness of his eyes spoke of underlying malevolence.
Loki? As in the pagan god of old? To meet the gods, I must be dead. But then where is my sister? She felt herself trembling and stopped short. Don't feel. Think. If I remember the Eddas, 'Loki is beautiful and comely to look upon, evil in spirit'… and he is the originator of deceit. If this man lies, there is the matter of how he is unaffected by the ice. If he speaks true, then he is the god of trickery and deceit, and I must be cautious. But I do not have the patience to be circumspect now. "What do you want?"
It did not seem possible, but his grin widened. "My crown, a birthright which I have been denied. Failing that, dominion of this world as recompense. The worship and loyalty of every mortal being on this planet. And you're going to help me."
Elsa's eyes narrowed. This did not sound like a request, and more order than prediction. "Excuse me.. what?"
"You are going to help me. You channel the ice of Ymir himself, with powers I have not seen since the frost giants lost the Casket of Ancient Winters. Such a thing should not be possible by a mortal such as yourself, and I find myself… curious. You are blessed with great power, and such power is meant to be used."
His words were smooth, although many of them unfamiliar to Elsa, and she was unsure exactly what he wanted of her. And she had no desire to help the master of lies.
Her reluctance must have shown, as his countenance shifted, blue eyes blazing into her. "You shall help me, willingly or coerced. Agree to help me of your own volition, and I will grant you whatever you wish. What is your greatest desire? Restoration of your crown? Revenge against the masses who betrayed and hunted you? Or something more… personal?"
What is my price? The questions had barely been uttered before the answer, so obvious, weighed on her mind. Anna. What would I sacrifice that she might know peace? I do not know of her ultimate fate. If this really is Loki, and the Eddas are true… "I would help you, on one condition. I want to speak to my sister, which may require the cooperation of your daughter. If I could talk to Anna once more, then I would consider your request." Take care not to agree explicitly, for who knows how strictly a verbal agreement with a god might be enforced?
Loki's eyes widened, however briefly, and his words were slow and less honeyed, but his smile didn't so much as flinch. "I have not spoken with Hela in a very long time. But if that is your price, I will arrange a... reunion. You may even enjoy Niffleheim, given your abilities. Although, it will have to wait. I am not physically here," his visage flickered before her eyes, "and cannot project from a projection."
His eyes left her, and focused on something over her shoulder. "I will call on you at a later time, as I fear our conversation will end shortly. You may want to duck, or call upon your magic, as your pursuers have arrived."
"Pursuers?" She felt a small sting in the back of her neck. Reaching up, she drew a small cylinder with an elongated metal tip from the spot of the pain, looking at it curiously.
"Pursuers." He pointed at a spot a hundred leagues or so in the distance. A glint of moonlight revealed a few of the oddly dressed individuals from before trying to hide on a small ridge. Her eyelids felt heavy. And must my fatigue from the last few days finally catch up to me now?
She turned back to Loki to find that the unsettling smile was back. What sort of devil am I dealing with? "I'll be in touch" was the last thing she heard, watching his image fade away. The world started to spin, and the icy ground rose up to meet her.
Awareness came gradually. The air was first; it was incredibly dry. Her throat and nose burned with each breath. Her head pounded, her tongue felt too large for her mouth, and her upper lip had cracked; running her dry tongue over the crack, she gave a small wince of pain.
Blearily opening her eyes, a soft light blue met her vision in all directions. Smooth, featureless walls lay to her left and right, with a similarly smooth ceiling, although with a single light source in the center that looked to be the strangest lamp she had ever seen. The far wall had a split that had to be a door, although she could see no handle.
Stretching a bit, she felt the bed shift beneath her. Glancing about, the bed had no posts, but a beige rail along one side with several small red circles with figures drawn onto them. Besides the bed, there was a small assortment of other furniture in the room; a table sat against the left wall with a pair of chairs on either side and a bit of what might be food atop it, and an overstuffed chair with a split in the leather on its armrest was to her right.
Raising herself onto her elbows, she pushed off the uncomfortably warm and itchy bedding. An odd weight on her forearms caused her to glance down, and she noticed strange metallic bracers on both of her arms, possibly bronze or a similar metal, covered in odd accents and accoutrements. A pair of these accents on each bracer seemed to generate their own light, a red fire that blinked slowly on and off.
Her head throbbing with the beat of some unseen drum, she slowly tried to collect her thoughts, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her with memories of recent events.
Anna. Ice. Death. Trembling, she forced a deep breath. Don't feel. The injured man. The strangely dressed English speakers. A rocky desert and Loki and… and where am I now?
She slid out of the bed, noting that while she still wore her ice dress, her shoes had been placed at the foot of the bed at some point. The ground was pleasantly cool to her feet. Walking over and lowering herself somewhat gingerly into one of the chairs, she stared at the selection of food. Moderate hunger forced a closer inspection, otherwise, she would have been wary of eating at all. It's been days since I last ate a decent meal. These meat and vegetables look somewhat recognizable, even some of the other things on the table do not. And the tray is unlike any material I've ever seen - not metal, ceramic, or wood. A glass container with water was her first target - no, not glass; transparent as glass, though, and similar in feel to the tray - the water passed her dry lips and she noted its clarity. The clearest water I've ever seen.
Unfamiliar food. Strange materials. Meeting with gods, or a god at least. These do not help me answer the only two questions that matter: am I dead, and what is Anna's fate? Anna… Control it. Don't feel. She idly pushed food about the plate while trying to reign in her emotions. How would I know if I was dead or not, if I found myself in the afterlife? And what sort of deal did I strike with Loki, assuming that was Loki; if this is some sort of purgatory, was that all just a test? Treat this as a puzzle, Elsa. You used to enjoy doing puzzles in your room to pass the time.
Answers were not forthcoming as she pondered the mystery, so she made an attempt to eat. The meat was unpleasantly tough and the vegetables overcooked, but it was otherwise palatable. A few bites and any lingering hunger was displaced by curiosity.
Her musings were interrupted by the door swinging open, a man and woman entering. Their faces were austere and their dress similar to the English speakers she had seen before. Another woman in trousers… The pair focused on her immediately upon entering, and she set down the fork she had been using, hoping that she might finally get a few answers. The woman looked to the man; he gave a nod and she cleared her throat.
"Your highness," the woman apparently realized Elsa was royalty as Loki had, though how, she was not sure, "I am Agent Hill. My colleague is Doctor Samson." Father sent for a doctor, when I was very young. My curse cannot be treated medically. And 'Agent' is a rather strange title. An agent of whom?
Hill continued, her voice soft and serious. "As a matter of formality, what is appropriate style? I was unsure if 'your highness' or 'your majesty' is more appropriate."
'Your majesty' would be more appropriate, if propriety were observed. It hardly matters, as I quite literally threw my crown away. As far as I am concerned, I have abdicated, and if not for me Anna would be… No. Don't feel. She took another long drink of water before answering. "Just Elsa, if you please."
"Elsa, there isn't an easy way to say this so I'm going to be direct. You have been frozen for a very long time. We aren't sure how you survived, exactly; we assume your abilities are to thank for that."
So I am alive? And "How long is a very long time, exactly?" Was I frozen for a few months? Oh God - a few years? What transpired while I was frozen?
"Today is the tenth of April," The woman's somber voice paused, long enough for a feeling of dread to start building in Elsa's chest, "in the year twenty twelve."
She couldn't breathe. The woman was talking, but Elsa could not hear her. One hundred and seventy years. Everyone, everything is gone. What became of Arendelle, with Anna's death and my absence? Anna… Anna has been dead for generations. What happened? Why should I live and she die? Her hands were shaking, her vision blurred, and the room started to spin.
She felt arms supporting her, lifting her to her feet. At some point, she had slid out of the chair and onto the floor. They lifted her back into a chair, softer than the one she had previously sat in, her unfocused stare barely noticing when the woman left the room.
A cacophony of voices in her head shouted simultaneously, a thousand thoughts swirling in the icy pool of her mind. My entire life is in the distant past. My parents, Anna - they would at best be historical figures in a dusty tome, at worst, forgotten with the passage of time. And I? I apparently froze myself after witnessing Anna… Anna's death. I killed my own sister, and must live to be tormented by this fact every day. To live is the true curse. Not the ice. Wait. Ice? Her mind was shocked from its ramblings with one startling realization; she felt tears streaming down her face.
Warm, wet, unfrozen tears.
Now intently focused, her eyes scanned the floor, the walls, the furniture. There was no ice. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she stared at her hands. Focusing, she channeled her magic; the tears on her fingers chilled but did not freeze.
"Your abilities have been temporarily suppressed." The man's voice startled her; she had forgotten that he was even in the room. "They were under the assumption that you do not have complete control over your powers."
They were right, whoever they are. But, suppressed? "How?" Does it matter how? This is incredible! It could have saved… She felt a stab of heartache and quickly suppressed it.
Samson gestured to the bracers on her forearms. "The bracers. They can be shut off at any time. Do you see the small switch on the side of each? Flip the switch and give it a try."
She did so, and focusing the magic, sent a small flurry of snowflakes into the air. Having never willingly demonstrated her powers so freely for a stranger, she studied his face for a reaction. Seeing only a small smile and a look of general tranquility, she relaxed, but flicked the switch to suppress her power once more. A cage for me, for my magic. But if I hold the key, is it really a cage? "How is this possible?"
"I'm not sure on the specifics, but they've been studying magic like yours for many years."
"I'm sorry, who are 'they'?"
"SHIELD. An international peacekeeping organization. They brought me in to talk with you, and help you with the aftereffects of your thawing. Though you seem remarkably calm, given the circumstances."
Practice. And Anna…. Anna was already gone. One year or a hundred might pass, and that would not change. Does anything else matter? A deep breath and her regal mask was in place. "I am stronger than I look, doctor."
"Samson, please. And I don't doubt your strength, but you have lost your entire life overnight; it would not be weakness to mourn."
There were a few minutes of silence as she pondered his words. I mourned for my parents years ago. I mourn for Anna… and that is a penance I will pay every day for the rest of my life. The others? Do I mourn for the townsfolk who shunned me in fear? For the nobles that shouted and chased me out only hours after I was crowned? For those who tried to kill me in my ice palace? No. I would not wish ill of them, but with almost two centuries past, the only person for whom I mourn is Anna.
He set a familiar shard of ice on the table before her. Reaching up to where she had previously worn it, and realizing it had been missing the whole time, she snatched it off of the table. She hurriedly deactivated one of the wristguards and refashioned the necklace to suspend the piece of ice. Once it was replaced around her neck, she drew a shuddering breath.
He had observed her as she did this, not saying a word. After she finished, he drew a few sheets of paper from the beige folio that he had brought with him and passed them to her.
"I had a pair of friends put these together last night. This wasn't actually part of my job, but it will be helpful in bringing you up to speed on the last two centuries. It should also give you something to work on; I have found that it can help to keep the mind productive."
She glanced at the first sheet. It was remarkably well pressed for something hastily written the night before, and she commented as such.
"Ah, one more thing to add to the list then," he took one of the sheets, scribbled the word 'typewriter' at the head of the list, and added the sheet back to the stack. "There are one hundred items on each of these lists. As you're able, I'd like you to ask anyone you can about items on the lists; if someone doesn't know any details, move on and ask someone else. I would be hard pressed to adequately describe everything on these lists myself," he glanced at the first sheet, "the Franco-Prussian war, for instance. They are lists assembled detailing the changes to the world over the last one hundred and seventy years. The first two pages are the one hundred most important historical events, with something of a Eurocentric focus, the next pages are a list of one hundred important inventions, and then a current political map of the world."
Elsa blinked at the long lists before her. Almost two centuries in the future and it's like I have tutors all over again. Anna would hate this. A short refrain of Don't feel and she started to skim the lists.
"Fill them out as you'd like. If you have any questions, I'll attempt to answer them as best as possible. For now, I'd like to talk to you about your life and your powers, if that's alright with you?"
She said nothing. Talking about historical events and inventions was one thing. Her own past, however, was not something she was comfortable discussing. She shifted in the chair but remained silent.
He seemed to notice her unease and changed directions. "Let's start with something pleasant. What can you tell me about Olaf?"