Anna found herself once again in Elsa's room, trying to sort out the whirlwind of activity of the past few hours. Immediately after the assassination attempt, no one else had been able to touch Elsa.
Anna had discovered that, for whatever reason, only she could be anywhere near the unconscious queen without being faced by a line of sharp spikes manifesting from the air. An automatic defense, then, just like what had blocked the first crossbow bolt. If not for her, Anna realized guiltily, Elsa would never have been hurt. But who asked her to take the hit? Elsa hadn't given her any choice about it, had just decided to abandon the protection of her ice to take care of her, and she had no business making Anna feel guilty and worried because she shouldn't be. She should be happy about this, but she was the furthest thing from it and she had no idea why.
With her thoughts scrambled by panic and worry, Anna had no idea what to do even.
But she needn't have worried. She was so distracted she didn't notice at first, but not all was quite right; Anna had seen the puncture but missed it slowly healing already. Blood just stopped flowing as though frozen in the veins, and only when she heard Elsa come back to life with a groan did she see how the torn muscle had actually knit itself back together. After a brief glow of white light, only the tiniest bit of blood marred otherwise unmarked, pale skin.
She had no idea how that was even possible.
Shaking her head and throwing herself into bed, Anna tried to forget about the strange sight. Strangely enough, it wasn't too hard. She had no idea why she had been brought to Elsa's room again, but being in it was calming, somehow, and she found the light chill actually relaxing as she made herself comfortable in the blankets. Funny thought, that she was more relaxed here than in her own room. Her room in the Southern Isles, that was, not really her own room.
Because that was in Arendelle.
Anna turned over and groaned.
…..
Queen Elsa sat on her throne, features starched as cold iron but quiet fury obvious in the raging snowstorm outside. As if to remind her subjects of exactly who she was, of exactly what they were, her usually neglected crown was placed over her head once more. Made entirely of sapphire-tinted ice, the tiara was not smooth but ribbed and jagged, better to refract light so all its surface gleamed with a brilliant white glow; its four points had been carved into conic, helical spirals, like winged seashells; and from the band encircling her head plunged eight short spikes, six against her hair and two arcing into lightning bolts on her forehead.
Before her stood the twelve princes: Gustaf, Cyrus, Fabian, Tobias, Alek, Stefan, Rafael, Saul, Oliver, Reid, Edmund, and finally Hans.
The remaining twelve.
"Alvard is dead," Elsa announced, though his body already lay in the center of the throne hall a mere few feet from the others. They stood uncomfortably near their dead brother, some with ashen faces, afraid to look and yet morbidly curious. Some of them were harmless, of course, uncaring of her rule or even pleased; Stefan and Rafael came to mind, enamored as they were with art and music.
But many of the others desperately needed reminder of her power.
Rule with authority, Markus had taught her.
Alek had been closest to Alvard, Elsa knew, much unlike many of the other bickering brothers holding even their blood relatives at arm's length. She found it admirable, their shared hatred of her, because they were at least upfront. Immediately, the headstrong man stepped forward and demanded, face set with anguish and denial, "What has he done to deserve this?
Explain yourself, Elsa!"
"You would do well to address Queen Elsa with respect," Hans said, and Elsa recognized his favorite and yet still undoubtedly effective tactic. Nobody liked to be reminded of their subordination.
Predictably, Alek sneered. "Maybe if she deserved it, but Alvard—"
"Attempted to assassinate the queen," Tobias interjected, but his voice had always been high and cruel, and the derision obvious in his careless demeanor made Alek turn to him with a guttural snarl. "You damned bookworm—"
"Yes, and perhaps if Alvard had a shred of similar intellect, he would have known better than to attempt treason." Tobias smiled when Alek went mute with rage and, brushing back a long strand of black hair, he added, "I only wish you would do the same so we might be rid of you too."
Even more arguing from the two; Elsa tuned out their insipid bickering with practiced ease. Born frail but with a keen mind unfortunately dedicated to cruelty, Tobias spent much of his time in the libraries pursuing forbidden knowledge. He was almost as much of a pariah as Elsa herself. She disliked being compared to him.
"Enough, Tobias," Elsa said at last, when Alek looked ready to strike him. Bowing, Tobias stepped back into line, but not before sending one last smug smile at Alek, prompting another curse. "And you, Alek, should control yourself. Alvard did try to kill me, and such an offense could not go unpunished. Do not forget who I am."
Edmund swallowed and tentatively piped up, almost quailing under Elsa's gaze. "But did he have to die? Elsa, I'm sure it was only a moment of, I don't know, momentary insanity, Alvard would never. . . "
Out of all the brothers, Edmund was the most innocent: ironically too innocent to ever have a chance at the throne, but innocent enough to not be a threat and therefore spared from danger. Elsa wondered if it was a ploy, sometimes. Then again, she suspected everyone.
"Treason is treason, and there are no exceptions. Any attempt to overthrow me is to disobey Markus, and I will carry out his expectations. Do not think he would have spared Alvard," Elsa said. Looking stricken, Edmund nodded quickly and stepped back.
Gustaf, the eldest, spoke up next in his trademark drawl. "Are you sure this was because of treason, or was it because of your pet? I don't care, but I would like some clarification about the exact offense."
"It's unfortunate Princess Anna was dragged into this mess," Hans said, and then pretending to have misspoken, he widened his eyes. "Oh, unless Anna isn't the pet you were referring to, I apologize."
Elsa gripped the arm of her throne tightly at the veiled barb. "Considering how eager you are to be at my beck and call and answer questions not directed to you, one could consider you my pet, Hans."
"Sit, boy," Fabian said, and Elsa held back a smile of victory when Hans flushed at the slightly nervous laughter from the others. Of course, Alek remained sullen, and Edmund stood somber, but the others either had little care for Alvard or were relieved to have a distraction.
"Now that we are thankfully free from the intrusion of fools, I will answer," Elsa said, unable to resist one last jibe. "The answer to your question, Gustaf, is both. Both treason and bringing harm to Princess Anna, my guest, are challenges to my authority and will not be tolerated."
"I can accept that—Queen Elsa," Gustaf said, and Elsa was surprised to find his use of her title genuine. Over twenty years her elder, Gustaf had never challenged her but never quite approved of her rule, either. It was as though having the spine to kill of one of his brothers actually earned his respect.
She should have simply accepted the good fortune, but Elsa couldn't hold back her curiosity. "Is it really so easy to accept the death of your brother?"
"There is nothing to accept. Alvard deserved this fate for his actions, and I see nothing wrong with justice. Even against family; I'm sure you understand." Turning slightly to eye his brothers, lingering a moment longer on Alek, Gustaf continued, "And if anybody tries anything more, I will personally ensure Queen Elsa needs not dirty her hands next time."
Uneasy agreement rang through the hall.
Elsa was admittedly confused. Gustaf was the eldest and commanded the most authority, but up until now he had been apathetic to her rule. Either he was sincere and thought her actions commendable, or he was only covering his tracks. She highly doubted Alvard, brash as he was, would have gone to the extreme of assassinating her unless provoked. Could it be Gustaf. . . ?
"I agree, but there may be a larger conspiracy at hand," Saul said. "Please, allow me to look into the matter."
Oliver and Reid nodded their agreement, almost always in line with their older brother. "If there are any other conspirators—"
"That will be unnecessary." Elsa knew better than to dig further into the mess and implicate others, not when one prince was already dead by her hand. It wouldn't do to start more conflict. "As no lasting harm was done, I will let this matter rest."
"So was Anna all right?" Edmund asked. He flushed when Fabian leered and Cyrus joined in with a rude comment—Cyrus and Fabian, the poltergeist brothers— but after fervently denying the lecherous accusations, he immediately looked back to Elsa.
". . . She was unharmed."
Edmund exhaled slowly. "That's good."
"If nobody has anything else to say, this meeting is adjour—"
Once again, Edmund cleared his throat. "Err, sorry. I have something else."
Tobias scowled. "Must we sit through your inane questioning?"
"It's important!" Edmund cried. "It's about—Alvard. Can I ask that, well, he still be given a royal burial? I know it's against the rules, but I can't imagine him being stripped of his title and everything. Please."
Slowly, Elsa nodded. Edmund bowed his thanks with a toothy grin.
"Still a child," Elsa murmured. "I will arrange for the burial. All of you are dismissed, but take care to remember your place. I do not wish for another repeat incident, and I'm sure none of you desire the same end."
With the threat hanging over their heads, all the princes filed out. Elsa wondered which ones were uninvolved, which ones were calculating how this would affect them. Out of the twelve, she noticed Hans taking an especially long glance at Alvard's body before walking out, steps just marginally quicker than the others.
She supposed she should have known.
…..
She didn't manage to catch a wink of sleep, so when the door opened Anna immediately heard.
"You're back!" Anna sprang out of bed when Elsa stepped into the room, but once the queen actually looked at her, she forgot her carefully prepared speech and stood there tongue-tied. She thought she might start sweating if it wasn't so cold. "Uhh, you're, umm. . . you're fine?"
"I am unharmed," Elsa answered, but she sounded uncertain. Uncertain of what, Anna didn't realize until Elsa added, "I'm. . . surprised you asked."
"Of course I'd ask. What kind of person wouldn't ask?" Anna frowned when Elsa stayed silent and closed the door behind her, slowly, trying to avoid her again. Well, this time she wouldn't have it. "Are we going to do the silent thing again? Because trust me, I grew up with four walls, I can do this all day."
"I meant no offense. Only. . . " Elsa trailed off. Determined to get a real answer, Anna fixed her with a heavy stare. When Elsa raised an eyebrow, she remembered she had as much presence in front of the regal queen as maybe a bug, but whether amused or otherwise, Elsa deigned to continue. "Not many people would worry for me. No one would think it necessary."
"Because of your powers?" Anna could understand that, just a little, thinking of how Elsa commanded ice and snow like the cold was a part of her, and more recently how lightning tore from her fingertips. But still. . . "That's not any reason to not worry for you." The longer Anna thought about it, the more indignant she became. If someone really cared, her powers shouldn't matter.
Did no one ever tell her that?
Elsa only shrugged. "Assassination attempts are not altogether rare, though Alvard came as a surprise. I am more than prepared for attempts on my life. Worrying for me is pointless."
It took Anna a moment to process that, really process that, and she stood there mutely until Elsa frowned and she snapped back to life with a vengeance. "So you're saying people try to kill you on a regular basis and you just, what, fend for yourself?" And then Alvard. "Wait, Alvard is one of the princes! Why would he—"
"You were the one to tell me how much I was hated," Elsa said, a stiff smile on her face. Anna wished Elsa were angry. Anything would have been better than the wry resignation that felt like a physical blow knocking her breath away, guilt and shame coming all at once when she realized how horrible she had been.
"I didn't mean..." Anna clamped her mouth shut. She had meant it.
"After that night," Elsa murmured, "I believed you would always hate me."
"What I said that time. . . "
"I fully deserved," Elsa said, cutting off Anna's protest. "I'm sorry I cannot explain more."
Before Anna could figure out what to say, Elsa suddenly hissed and stumbled, trying her absolute hardest to stay on her feet before her leg wobbled and finally collapsed under her. She fell to one knee, her hand flying to her shoulder as a dull groan escaped her lips.
"Are you all right?" Anna exclaimed, dropping next to the queen. She looked over to see blood seeping through the back of Elsa's dress, crimson quickly blossoming through the sheer fabric. "Y-You're bleeding! But I saw—I thought you were all better!"
"It was only temporary," Elsa admitted.
Before the queen could protest, Anna grabbed her hands and helped her up. She wasn't wearing her gloves, and the instant they touched, Anna felt the coldness of her skin. Not dangerously so, not the ice Anna had expected but comforting, like somehow holding onto the feeling of a passing breeze.
Elsa gasped again, but not from pain. "Anna, please, you'll be hurt." She tried to jerk her hands back, but Anna held on, sure she would fall without support.
"I've managed this long, I'm sure I won't suddenly die of frostbite." At once Elsa stopped struggling, looking as though she were dazed. Smiling a little despite herself, Anna helped her over to the bed. "I'll go call someone—"
"No," Elsa said, too quickly, forgetting her previous aversion and gripping Anna's wrist tightly when she tried to turn.
"Why? You need help—"
"Exactly. People cannot know that I am vulnerable." Elsa let go and involuntarily bent inwards again, another hiss escaping her clenched teeth. Anna realized how much it must really hurt, if even always-controlled Elsa couldn't hold it back. But even still, she forced past the pain to insist, sounding deathly afraid, "No one can know, I can't let them see—"
"All right, all right," Anna said, sitting Elsa down when she tried to rise. "Don't move. Are there still bandages and things from last time?" Elsa nodded, pointing with a shaking finger to the dresser nearby, and Anna immediately rummaged through it. She had been looking for ointments and bandages, but she couldn't help but notice there weren't any clothes.
Returning to Elsa, Anna realized their roles had been reversed in only two days. Two mornings ago, it had been Elsa caring for her. Maybe Elsa realized it too because she smiled, just a little, her eyes conveying her amusement more than her face. Anna had thought Elsa emotionless, but these past few days she learned otherwise. Elsa might be cold on the outside, but she had the most expressive eyes Anna had ever seen and they spoke more than words could. Other people smiled with their lips. Elsa smiled with her eyes.
"I don't actually know how to do this," Anna admitted, embarrassed but quietly pleased with how Elsa's eyes lit up again with amusement. "Err, should I take your dress off? Wait, that didn't come out right."
"It would be prudent." With a wave of her hand, Elsa was left sitting there without her top.
Anna couldn't help herself. She squealed and dropped everything, hands flying up to cover her eyes, but she peeked through her fingers when Elsa laughed. Not a full-blown laugh, only a contained chuckle that was more like a series of short breaths, but Anna was amazed to hear it anyway. Even Elsa widened her eyes once she realized what she was doing.
"U-Uhh." Anna cleared her throat and quickly picked up all the supplies, ducking her head to hide her reddening face. "Sooooo. How did you do that?" She was looking for anything to talk about, shuffling quickly to the other end of the bed and clambering up.
"Oh. I made the dress out of my ice."
"Th-That's really impressive! It's very beautiful."
". . . Thank you."
Anna sat behind Elsa and tried to steady her shaking hands. It was hard not to be nervous, not so much because of the reopened gash—certainly horrible, long and jagged, though the bleeding had at least stopped— but because of proximity. Elsa was just sitting there topless in only her undergarments, and Anna would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified. Taking a deep breath, Anna gently brushed away platinum blonde hair, as soft as silk on her fingers, and then carefully wiped the blood away.
"I'm not sure the bandages are going to be enough," Anna said, eyeing the open wound.
"I won't need them. My body will heal by itself, I only needed more time."
Explained why the gash had closed before, but not exactly how it happened in the first place. Anna shrugged it off easily. She was getting used to Elsa's little quirks. Maybe a little too used to them, but whatever. "Well, we still need to make sure you don't get an infection."
". . . Why do you care? About me?" Elsa whispered.
"You saved me. Isn't it just normal for me to worry when you got hurt because of me?"
Elsa blinked and tilted her head. "But you were also targeted because of me. I owe you an apology—"
"Enough with the apologies," Anna snapped, but the moment the words left her mouth, she winced at how much harsher it sounded than she meant. Elsa looked away. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean—I just think—I'm just saying you don't have to always say sorry. I'm grateful, really grateful."
". . . Then I will also tell you, being grateful is unnecessary. I did what I wanted to."
For a long moment, they simply looked at each other silently. For Anna it was like seeing Elsa clearly for the first time, without the preconceptions she held from their first meeting and the resentment she felt from her captivity. It was impossible to resent her now, when she thought of Elsa throwing herself in the way of a deadly projectile, enduring this pain, just to save her. Elsa was such a contradiction. She bore the potential for wanton destruction, yet she handled Anna with such tender care. She could break her without a thought, but Anna knew she never would.
Had Elsa always looked this way, this insecure? Clutching her arms tightly to herself, injured and unable to ask for help, looking so elegant and yet out of place, Elsa was anything but what Anna had thought.
"Are you all right, Anna?"
That snapped her out of it.
"R-Right, I'll just get started now," Anna mumbled.
Okay, this couldn't be that hard. Fumbling with the disinfectant and very almost spilling it everywhere when the cap popped off and shot across the room— Elsa shifted, just a little, to follow it with her eyes— Anna at last managed to get some on a cotton pad. She froze, though, when confronted with the actual injury. How was she even supposed to know what to do? She wasn't a professional. How had Elsa done it? Was she a professional? Anna doubted it.
"I'm ready for this," Anna muttered under her breath. "I was born ready!"
With visceral strength she swiped the gash with disinfectant, and Elsa flinched away.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Anna dropped the cotton pad like it was a deadly weapon. "I swear I didn't do that on purpose; I have no idea how to do this, and I'm pretty sure I'm not qualified, and, and—"
"Anna, I'm fine."
". . . O-Okay. You're fine, and I'm calm." Anna took a deep breath. "I'll try to be careful."
Elsa's muscles were tense. Anna could feel it the instant she touched her, could feel muscles tightening into knots, and she saw Elsa wringing the blankets in her hands. The disinfectant must have hurt, but Elsa never made the slightest sound or even breathe any quicker. Or at all, Anna realized. Just another quirk to file away, but actually touching Elsa, she couldn't feel even the slightest hint of movement.
"Just relax," Anna said.
"I may still hurt you," Elsa muttered. "Touching my bare skin, I might accidentally hurt you; I don't have enough control to guarantee your safety. I'm allowing myself to indulge too much as it is."
"We've touched before, and nothing happened."
"It's strange to me as well," Elsa said, craning her head to meet Anna's gaze, eyes burning with some strange emotion she couldn't identify. "I—I don't know why, but... you're the only person I can touch." She looked down at her hands, those same hands Anna had seen perform beautiful, beautiful magic, and then quickly away again like she couldn't stand the sight of them.
She sounded so painfully unsure, and it dawned on Anna that this was the most Elsa had ever revealed of herself to her, maybe to anyone. She heard the underlying desperation and hope mingled in Elsa's voice, and something in her welled with pity for this isolated queen. She had to know.
"How long have you been alone?" Anna asked quietly.
For a long moment, she thought Elsa wouldn't answer. A terrible silence descended on the room, punctuated by the snowstorm outside suddenly picking up in ferocity, ice shards slamming against the windows with loud thumps. Just as Anna started to regret asking, an answer came.
". . . I don't remember," Elsa said. "Years. For as long as I can remember, I haven't been able to touch anyone without hurting them. And once people realized I was dangerous. . . "
Years without human contact, then. Anna had been raised behind closed gates, but even she had Kai and Gerda and all the friendly hired hands, and best of all, Pappa. She couldn't imagine living without the comfort and warmth of something as simple as a hug.
"What about your parents?" Surely they would. . .
"They disapproved of my gift." Just the way Elsa said it sent shivers down Anna's spine, monotonous beyond even her usual tone, the voice of someone dead to the world. Before her eyes the gash on Elsa's back closed, this time hopefully permanently, but she was starting to think Elsa might prefer healing the mundane way.
That was when she noticed. Where the gash had been, only unmarked skin was left. But beside it. . .
"What are these marks?" Anna asked, trailing her fingers over ropy ridges on Elsa's back. Scars, she realized, extremely old and so milky they were almost invisible, but still obviously scars. She would never have expected any blemish like this on the queen.
". . . Punishment."
Anna jerked away. "I—I'm so sorry." Even if Elsa had bothered to respond, she knew how inadequate those meaningless words were. She was apologizing for digging up what Elsa obviously wanted to forget, but the damage was done and the evidence would always be there. "You didn't deserve that."
Elsa said nothing.
Later, Anna wouldn't know what came over her. It was purely instinct, driven by concern and sympathy and compassion, and maybe if she had stopped to think she would not have dared; but all she knew in that instant was that she couldn't let Elsa be alone for a single moment longer, not when she could see her starting to retreat behind a mask again after only just revealing her humanity.
Anna leaned forward and hugged Elsa from behind.
…
Elsa hadn't been expecting it at all.
One moment she had been lost in memory, and the next. . .
Warmth. Warmth like she had never felt before, pressed flush against her skin, and her first instinct was panic. Get away, get away before you hurt her, get away before she realizes what you are. She moved to pull away, only for Anna to catch her wrists and cross their arms together across her waist. Elsa thought she felt something stir where her heart had been, a flutter that was a cross between panic and pleasure. Anna was holding her so close. Elsa could smell the fragrance of her hair, hear the soft sounds of her breathing, feel the comfort of her warmth and the rhythm of her heartbeat, all of it intensely alive.
She had been so very cold without even realizing how much she craved warmth.
She had never felt this before, being cared for.
She desperately wanted, needed, to just let go and give in this one time.
So Elsa closed her eyes and leaned back, content to bask in this small shred of warmth she had found in the winter she always lived in.