Chapter Fourteen

Dreams.

Strange, twisting, swirling dreams.

She knew she was dreaming. This is a dream, she thought to herself, and it was.

But it was memory, too.

Men and horses, flailing, screaming. Chased by a monster made of snow and teeth and claws. Twisting in a storm they could not escape.

A storm that entangled a castle made of stone and ice, that held her sister prisoner.

Anna!

She tried to yell, tried to reach, tried to make the snow and ice melt with the love that she felt.

But the fear was stronger.

True blue eyes gazed into eyes made of ice.

Her sister's eyes.

Her own eyes.

Snow queen.

Ice queen.

Elsa awoke with a sharp gasp, limbs jerking as she yanked herself from her own dream. She lay within her tent and tried to tell her racing heart and pulsing lungs that all was well. Beyond the cloth walls she could hear Kristoff's thick snores, as well as the occasional snort or stamp from one of the horses. With the same unrelenting discipline she had learned as a child, she concentrated on all that her ears could pick up. Any sounds would help distract her from the emotional immediacy of her dream.

Ah, there. She could hear a fainter set of snores. Beorne in his tent, no doubt. And there, a brief rustle of a smaller body… likely Feilan rolling over in her sleep. If she concentrated just a little bit more, she could hear the soft creak of shifting snow. One hand crept to her face to rub her eyes. That dream! So strange… and yet, even as she remembered it, she could pick apart the different elements and identify the memories that had contributed to it.

The snow monster attack, of course, as well as the snow she couldn't control.

Arendelle's stone castle, and her own ice castle, blended into one.

The desire to protect Anna, and more than that, anyone and anything she cared about… as well as the fear of failing to do so.

Those eyes at the end, though… Elsa shuddered, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with her magic. At first she thought they were Anna's eyes, when she had briefly turned to pure ice. But then the dream eyes had seemed inhuman altogether, yet very much alive. The thought occurred to her that those could have been her eyes, had she given in to the calculating savagery that possessed her in those awful moments with the soldiers in her ice castle.

Thinking about it made her stomach cramp. With a soft sigh Elsa sat up, peering about the confines of her tent. Snowflakes danced in the dark, only just beginning to melt. As she gazed at their disappearing glimmers, she felt a far more welcome chill dance across her skin. It occurred to her that it had been over a week now since she had last truly used her powers. Simply clearing snow for a path or firming it underfoot could barely be described as exercising them. An itch of a sort was building within her, much the same as would occur when one was used to physical exertion but then spent a day or two abed.

She wanted to use, truly use, her abilities. Play fights with Anna had helped alleviate the urge, but there was no one to play snow games with here.

Go back to sleep, she tried to tell herself… but those inhuman eyes were waiting for her to close her own. Snapping her eyelids open, Elsa grunted. On its own, it seemed, her body leaned forward and her hand reached for the tent flap. A bit of a twitch revealed a winter world lit silver-white by moonlight. Cautiously she pulled the flap further aside.

There, on either side of the banked campfire, she could make out two long, lumpy forms. One was nearly half again as large as the other. Kristoff and Feilan, apparently as comfortable with the ground as they had claimed they would be. Across the campfire she could see Beorne's small tent. Elsa sat in the cover of her own for a little bit, watching and listening.

Kristoff's snoring continued undisturbed. Poor Anna, Elsa couldn't help but think, then had to cover her mouth to help hold in a sisterly snicker.

Once in a while she saw Feilan's blankets stir. Some restless moment, perhaps brought on by a dream? Elsa wondered and watched for what seemed like a long time, but their odd guide made no suspicious movement or noise. The itch continued to build beneath her skin, until she could stand it no longer.

For the most part, Elsa performed her duties as required. From the time she could understand speech she had been raised to understand the crown that awaited her. She could not remember a time she resented her destined course to the throne, only regret of what it would cost for her to assume it. She still remembered that moment when, as a small child, she had realized she would be Queen only upon her parents' deaths. Her love of Arendelle had grown no less that day, but she had no longer begged for her coronation to arrive sooner.

With the emergence of her powers, and more importantly the accident with Anna, Elsa had dreaded her people's fear. She only wanted to care for her country as her parents had, but if the people were too terrified to trust her, then how could she watch over them? It was a question that had plagued her through thirteen years of isolation. Then that one glorious night of freedom…

Elsa's hand tightened on the flap of her tent. Her eyes gazed at the snow beyond, but her thoughts continued inward. The night of her coronation had been both gift and curse. It was a gift that had let her feel the true, innocent joy of expressing her powers. It was also a curse, because now she had that moment of complete, uninhibited freedom to compare to the weight of bearing a crown.

She cared too much for Arendelle to ever abandon it again… and yet, and yet….

Sometimes she just had to get away.

Not even Anna knew about her elder sister's "escapes". They truly didn't amount to much. A midnight wander through the private gardens. Late night walks through the castle's surrounding city. Sometimes a ride into the foothills. She didn't doubt that Beorne or some other castle staff member would send someone to shadow her, but for a time she could pretend. Away from others, she could revel in the ghost of freedom she had known in her ice castle for such a short time. Elsa had no intention of ever deserting her country again… but sometimes she just needed to breathe.

Like tonight.

They were approaching the stone castle. She was having to make friendly conversation with someone in order to interrogate them. They had found out little about the snowstorms and snowbeasts, and had lost twelve men to the monsters. So many things that she knew so little about, yet always had to appear to be in charge, confident and in control.

She missed Anna's laughter. With her sister, there was no bluffing, no controlling.

There was only life.

And that life included Elsa's snow.

Once again her body moved without checking with her mind. She eased out of her tent, keeping eyes and ears out for any movement from the others. They all appeared to sleep soundly. She eased her way to the snowy border of cleared ground. All it took was the barest touch of her magic to turn the snow into a soundless carpet that she walked easily upon. Moonlight lit the wintry crystals to a silver blue glow. As she walked past the horses, Sven bounced towards her with a puzzled snort.

"Shhh," Elsa hissed, lifting her hands to cradle the reindeer's large muzzle. He blew gently into her hands. Elsa smiled. "I'm ok, I promise," she whispered into one large furry ear. "Just needed some air."

Sven pulled his head back to study her dubiously. Something about her expression seemed to appease his curiosity, however, because he snorted and drifted back to the horses. Elsa chuckled to herself, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was stirring.

Kristoff continued to snore, and Beorne provided a faint echo or counterpoint. It was amusing to realize that their snores complimented each other when they were so antagonistic during waking hours. Feilan's breathing could not be heard from here, but her side rose and fell regularly.

Turning away from them, Elsa began walking farther away from the campsite.

Not wise, cautioned the Queen she was.

All is well, the snow within her assured her.

Trusting to her snow, she continued until she found a small clearing just a few minutes' walk away. Moonlight filled the open area with its silver glow, coaxing a strange, elusive shimmer from mounds of wintry crystals. With a smile, Elsa began gathering some of those drifts towards her. A hum began low in her throat and nudged its way between her lips. Before long, she was singing softly to herself as she shaped and reshaped the snow to suit her. Snowflakes twirled in time to her tune, offering their own subtle chimes as well.

Soon she was dancing among her whirling creations. Her leathers shimmered and changed to her iconic blue gown, its sheer veil flowing behind her like a visible breeze. As she reached out one hand, an image of Anna made of shifting swirls of snow appeared. They curtsied to one another, then launched into a courtly dance. Just as suddenly, magic scattered the crystalline flakes then reformed them into two separate forms. Elsa nearly laughed aloud as a snow-Kristoff and snow-Sven chased each other about the clearing.

Thoughts of her family led to thoughts of protecting them. A sway of her hand conjured a throne-like seat from the drifts. It was a smaller seat than the one that awaited her in the stone castle. It was also lovelier, without being ostentatious. Some parts were opaque snow, other parts gleamed as translucent silver-blue glass. Elsa settled into her snow throne, concentrating on some of what was bothering her.

The snow echoed her thoughts, creating images in the air that looked rather like images created from spilled table salt. At first it showed her a man and horse. The horse reared, throwing the man. Then the snow dissolved and reformed, becoming an unstable nightmare of claws and teeth. Gradually the discordant form settled, condensing into a pair of inhuman eyes.

A gasp from a nearby tree had Elsa bolting upright. The snow image scattered in a silent, glittering explosion. Her throne throbbed an angry red and suddenly bristled spikes made of clear ice. She grabbed one of the spikes. It came away easily in her hand and grew to the length of a modest spear. "Show yourself!" she commanded, her voice immediately adopting the unrelenting tone of a Queen.

She heard a grunt, then saw Feilan ease from behind an old pine tree.

"You!" Elsa exclaimed. "What were you doing?" she demanded.

"I…," Feilan muttered, looking everywhere but directly at Elsa. "I heard music..."

Elsa narrowed her eyes. Still gripping her spear in one hand, she leaned forward. "It is unwise to startle me," she warned.

The smaller woman lifted her gaze enough to eye the snow throne, still bristling with ice spikes and pulsing with an unhealthy red light. Her voice was low and soft as she said, "I can see that."

Fear, shame, and a strange sort of pride twisted through Elsa. For the space of a heartbeat she considered increasing the spikes in both number and size, or at least turning her simple ice spear into some more formidable weapon. Chasing that heartbeat was the memory of standing in her castle, knowing how close her ice was to drawing life blood from one man while forcing another man to a life-ending fall. Elsa closed her eyes for the space of another heartbeat. If Hans had not interrupted… what would she have done?

So disturbing to be grateful to a man who had not thought twice about ending either her or her sister's lives.

Snapping her eyes open, she looked hard at Feilan. Their erstwhile guide stood still as the trees, head down and turned slightly to the side. The moonlight's gleam caught her eyes, revealing that they were still cautiously locked on Elsa's spear. Elsa fought down the impulse to put the spear away. As Queen, she could not afford the shows of trust that Anna was so prone to… no matter how much she wished otherwise.

"Speak the truth," she commanded. "Why were you spying on me?"

Feilan's gaze shifted and her feet shuffled in the snow. "Saw both yer guards were still sleepin'. Thought mebbe someone'd better come keep an eye on yer fool self."

Elsa's grip tightened. Glittering snowflakes whirled about Feilan's head. The smaller woman flinched and raised her head like a startled animal. Without any give in her voice, Elsa growled, "The truth, Feilan."

The smaller woman squeezed her eyes shut. When she spoke, there was no trace of the peasant accent. "It was the music. I heard the music, and… I had to follow. Had to."

Confused by the statement, Elsa leaned back in her throne. Some of the viscous red light began to dim. "What… do you mean my singing?" she asked. A little bemused, she added, "I thought I wasn't being that loud."

"Sound carries," grunted the mountaineer, "but it wasn't that. It was…." She faltered, then pointed to the snowflakes that still swirled about her head.

The confusion wasn't easing any. "My magic? You hear music in my magic?" asked Elsa.

Feilan started to nod, then shrugged instead. "Sounds like chimes. Or children laughing." She still kept her head slightly averted. "I just… I had to follow the sound."

Frowning, Elsa asked, "But why only you? Why not..." With a gasp she stood from her mini throne. "Kristoff! Sven! Beorne! Did you do anything to them? If you did…!" Suddenly her ice spear grew in length and sprouted several deadly blades.

Feilan glanced at the spear, hunched her shoulders, and turned her face even more away from Elsa. "Didn't do nothin'," she said, the accent thickening her tongue again. "Both w're sleepin. E'en tha reindeer." Elsa narrowed her eyes. With little more than a thought, ice grew over Feilan's feet. The guide hissed and jerked as thought to run away, but the ice held her fast. When Feilan spoke, a whine crept into her tone. "I told ya th'truth!" she yelped. "L'me go!"

"No." Elsa stood from her throne and walked easily over the snow until she was her spear's length from Feilan. Eyeing the trapped woman, she said, "You will stay right here while I go check on them. If they are fine, I will come back and release you. If they are not..." With no other words, she tilted her spear.

Feilan's eyes locked onto the tip, then met Elsa's own eyes briefly. With a shudder, Feilan averted her gaze and turned her face slightly away again. "Fair enough," she muttered. Abruptly she dropped to a crouch, arms folded over her knees.

Elsa stood over their guide a moment, confusion and anger tugging her heart this way and that. Concern abruptly arose and overrode all other emotions. Without another word she began to run lightly across the snow, her snow, the soft surface as sure to her feet as the earth itself. It took little time to reach their camp, swirls of snowflakes preceding her. They caught the moonlight and reflected it, causing light to dance like water reflections through the artificially cleared area.

It did not interrupt the snores of the two men, but it did cause one reindeer and several horses to jerk their heads.

Panting a little, more from release of fear than from exertion, Elsa came to a stop by Sven's side. She ruffled the reindeer's thick ruff then placed her hand gently over his muzzle when he made to snort at her. "Shhh," she urged, even as she watched Kristoff's sides rise and fall in time to his snores. To Sven, she whispered, "Be at ease, friend. I'm just relieved to see you safe."

Sven blew air against her hand, flicking his ears at the spear she still carried in her other one.

"A caution," she murmured, her gaze straying to Feilan's empty blankets. A frown touched the young Queen's features. She had to go back to Feilan and release her as promised. Should she go alone? Her hand tightened on her spear. One person was not a threat to her, as long as she was wary. Stroking the reindeer's face, she asked, "Watch over them, will you? I have to… take care of something."

Sven gazed steadily at her a moment, then looked to Kristoff and then to Beorne's tent. Abruptly he lifted his head high and puffed out his chest. With his legs and back rigidly straight, he looked so much like a soldier at attention that Elsa had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. "Very good," she praised softly instead. With a final stroke of his side, she walked away from the camp.

The snow carried her weight easily and silently as she willed. She took a little longer to reach the clearing than she had the camp, moving at an easy walk. She did not want to arrive winded. Still grasping her spear, she approached the crouched Feilan from behind.

"They are well," Elsa spoke with a deliberate suddenness. She watched as Feilan tried to jerk upright and spin about, only to tumble into a helpless muddle as her feet were still held fast. She expected anger or fear from the guide. The only thing Feilan seemed to show, however, was resignation.

Laying in what had to be a painfully uncomfortable position, the smaller woman merely stared into the trees and asked, "Will you release me, then?"

"As promised," acknowledged Elsa. With a wave of her hand, the ice melted from Feilan's boots. The guide sat up and tucked her legs underneath her, but made no other move. She still would not look straight at Elsa. That avoidance began to irritate her. "Look at me," she commanded. Feilan turned to look at her. The moonlight washed the color from the mountaineer's eyes, but it couldn't wash away her expression. Elsa frowned even more deeply and asked, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

The guide shrugged her shoulders and twitched her head as thought to look away, but thought better of it and kept her gaze on Elsa. "Are ye afraid of a dog that bites from fear, or a storm that blows overhead?"

Elsa's own head jerked back a little, startled as she was by the question. "What do you mean?"

Their guide paused long before answering, face furrowed in thought. Elsa suspected Feilan was trying to force a concept into words, and her suspicion proved true. "'m not afraid of you. Respect you, same as I would anything of strength. Don't fear th'horse what kicks, just respect ye don't startle it by walkin' too close to its backside. Which I kinda did. Sneakin' up ye li'tha, I mean."

"Yes, you did," the Queen relented. She leaned back a little, letting the spear take some of her weight. Immediately Feilan's own posture shifted, shoulders relaxing and knees resting fully on the ground. Elsa tilted her head. "Now, tell me again… why did you follow me like that? You said you were following… music? My magic?"

Feilan nodded. "Yer snow, it chimes. All pretty-like. Seemed like a dream, a kind one." The guide's gaze turned to the side, but not in avoidance this time. She seemed to be looking at something within, and it was an unpleasant sight.

Remembering her own nightmares, Elsa was struck by the thought that Feilan might have some of her own. Before she could think more along that line, however, the mountaineer's words continued.

"So I followed it. You. Saw… you….," Feilan faltered, then gestured sharply to the throne in the small clearing. "Pictures. Made o'snow. Th'woman ye danced with… yer sister tha'ye keep talkin' 'bout?" The accent began creeping back in.

"Yes," Elsa said, leaning on her spear. When the guide paused, she gestured with her other hand for her to continue.

Feilan swallowed, then did as bidden. "I jes… I jes kept watchin'. It… you… yer magic… were so beautiful…," she choked and tucked in her chin, refusing to look at anything at all.

Elsa blinked. "...beautiful? My magic?"

The guide's answering "yes" was barely a hiss, it was so soft a whisper.

Elsa stared incredulously at the top of Feilan's shaggy hair. "That's why you didn't say anything? That's why you hid behind a tree?"

The smaller woman hunched her shoulders miserably, chin still tucked. Her words were garbled by her hunched position. "Ye dinna spook a deer in a wood," she muttered.

Several moments passed as Elsa waited to see if more would be said. When only silence filled the space between them, Elsa let out her breath in a perplexed sigh. She took a few steps closer, stopping when she saw Feilan wince. Using her spear as a brace, she dropped to a crouch of her own and extended her other hand. "Come now," she ordered, but gently. "Stand, will you? It can't be comfortable, huddled up like that. You look like a turtle missing its shell."

Feilan lifted her head enough to stare at Elsa's hand, then raised her head a little further so she could see Elsa's face. Their guide searched Elsa's eyes with her own for a count of heartbeats before accepting Elsa's offered hand with her own.

Trying to ignore the shocking warmth of another's palm in her own, Elsa helped pull Feilan upright. As soon as Feilan was on her feet, they let go of each other's hands. Elsa fought the urge to rub her hand against her hip, so unsettled was she by the lingering feeling of a touch that wasn't Anna's. She noted that Feilan seemed as unfamiliar with contact, as their guide stared at her own hand for a few moments after the release.

Feilan lifted her gaze from her hand, and very deliberately looked Elsa up and down. Tilting her head slightly, she asked, "Aren't ye freezin' in tha'getup?" By now the accent was back in full force.

Elsa blinked multiple times, caught off guard by the abrupt shift of topic. "I… what? Oh." She looked down at her blue gown. "Oh, this. Well, I don't feel the cold like most people seem to," she said, pride warming her tone. "It doesn't bother me, at least."

"Obviously," Feilan snorted. "S'why wear th'leathers?"

Wry humor twisted Elsa's lips as she answered, "Because apparently other people get cold when they see me in less than full winter garb."

"Huh," the small mountaineer grunted. "Makes sense, of a sort." She turned her eyes to the spear Elsa still held, then turned her body so she could look at the throne that still sat in the clearing. It no longer glowed with that wicked red light, but the clear spikes that still adorned it glittered in the moonlight. Feilan stared at that for several long moments, then turned back to Elsa. "D'you really see'em that way?" she asked.

Talking with Feilan was beginning to give Elsa a bit of a headache. "See who what way?"

"Th'snow beasts. Th'snow pictures ye made… made'em seem… all horrible."

"They did attack us, unprovoked," said Elsa, sternness creeping into her tone. "They have caused the disappearance of twelve of my men, and have done me injury." Shifting her grip on her spear, she added, "They have also caused the disappearance of who knows how many travelers. Until we can understand why they are doing this, I have to treat them as a threat."

Feilan's gaze strayed to the tip of the spear. In a sadder, more reluctant voice she repeated, "Makes sense."

Something in Feilan's voice wrung Elsa's heart. She wanted to answer with kindness, but the Queen she was trained to be responded first. "Why do you care for them so?" she asked. "I mean, I understand you care for the land. It's to be expected of a mountaineer, I suppose. Kristoff is much the same way. He treats animals with more care than he does people, though he cares for people too. Yet you seem to be especially interested in these snow monsters. Why?"

"Snowbeasts," Feilan corrected with an averted gaze. It was so like Kristoff's corrections to Beorne that Elsa nearly laughed. Unaware of Elsa's humor, Feilan shrugged and continued, "I've ne'er seen'em hurt no one. Scare'em, sure. But not hurt."

Elsa rubbed her head with her free hand. "One hit me in the head hard enough to knock me unconscious for at least a day," she accused.

"Are ye sure ye dinna fall off yer horse?" Feilan countered, face still turned slightly away.

"Captain Beorne says he saw one strike me down," Elsa said. She stared at Feilan, willing the woman to look at her.

Not complying in the least, Feilan seemed to study a nearby branch. "Wha'e'er," she muttered with a shrug of her shoulders. "Will ye hunt them down?" she asked, still contemplating the branch.

For a brief moment, Elsa thought Feilan was talking about the trees. Sleepiness was beginning to creep into her brain like a mist. Shaking her head to clear it, she answered, "No. Not unless there is no other choice. Just because I have to treat them as a threat doesn't mean I have to kill them."

That seemed to be an answer that agreed with Feilan. The guide's shoulders relaxed, and she allowed her gaze to drift naturally to Elsa for the first time. "That's good," was all she said.

Reaction was settling into Elsa's muscles. They ached from a lack of sleep and from the surge of panic that had carried her to the camp, not to mention the dancing she had done earlier in the snow. She leaned a little more heavily on her spear, trying to think of what else she needed to know. A twinge of instinctive caution warned her that it would be safer to return to camp than to remain out here asking questions, however. With a wave of her hand, she dissolved the ice throne. It took no gesture at all to reduce her spear to a walking stick made of opaque ice.

"Let's go back to camp," she said in a voice that was more royal command than friendly suggestion. "We'll need some sleep before we head out."

Feilan nodded and moved to take the lead. Elsa allowed it, since that meant the guide was within her sight. They walked in relative silence, made more so as Elsa adjusted the snow beneath their feet to support them. She expected some word as they reached the cleared perimeter, but Feilan said nothing. The mountaineer simply walked to her blankets and wrapped herself in them. Her breathing was too quick for sleep, but she made no other move.

Elsa sighed, stopping to give the vigilant Sven a gentle pat. "At ease, soldier," she whispered to him. He snorted as quietly as he could and waggled his antlers, looking between her and Feilan with obvious suspicion. Elsa smiled and stroked his neck. "All is well," she reassured him. "No harm was done." She dissolved her walking stick and, with a last pat to Sven, retreated to her tent. She didn't notice the reindeer snort again, then settle himself to keep a watchful gaze on Feilan.

Exhaustion and confusion proved to be a powerful deterrent against further nightmares, at least. Elsa slept the rest of the night without dreams.