~Hello everyone!
I know it's been a while since I had posted last, and I would like to apologize; but I am currenlty working on a manuscript that I plan on sending out to literary agents. Being an author and seeing one of my stories on a Barnes&Noble shelf has always been a dream of mine, and I'm working on making that dream a goal.
However, when I need bouts of inspiration, or just a break from it, I will be coming back to the fanfictions to help keep the creativity flowing. With that said, updates will be far and few in between, unless I'm really immersed in a certian story. Next to that, my job takes up most of my day, and I need money.
But I want to thank everyone for the continued kudos and support and comments. I never thought this story would be so well-recieved as it did - and I'm sorry for leaving everyone so abruptly. It's the support and encouragment on all of my stories that help remind me I'm on the right path.
Thank you again everyone, please stay safe out there, and I hope everyone has an amazing day.
KeshaRocks~
He walked alone in that restless dream. The darkness consumed him, and spun his world until he couldn't find an escape. No up or down or in between.
There was something else in that darkness – something that was hungrier, more ravaging than the churning tar of black. But he couldn't see it, for it was veiled in shadow beyond his sight.
But he could feel it there. Eyes of gold peering at him, pacing back and forth in front of an invisible barrier of his mind.
Then a familiar voice said his name, followed by a vision that softly coiled around his shoulders. It opened a doorway of light and strength.
It eased him from the black pit of that crushing power, leading him with a snow-kissed hand towards a land of drifting clouds and rolling hills under a bright sun.
He curled up on one of those hills – as he did when he was a child – safe and guarded in the halo of sunlight, and slept.
Elsa decided to walk off the fear after Michael had officially gone back to sleep. Unfortunately, it followed her like a shadow, no matter how many corners she turned, or halls she strolled. The fear followed her, and her only comfort was that it wasn't a fear of Michael himself, but what might be hiding beneath his skin. That he might not even know about.
It knew who she was.
It knew of her gift.
Has it always been watching through his eyes?
And then there's its poem of insanity.
Tugging her mother's scarf tighter around her, Elsa continues walking. She'd grabbed it after everyone had left, needing her mother's comfort. The skirt of her cornflower blue, silk nightgown brushes along her toes with each step. Elsa tries to focus on the sensation, letting her feet walk her around the castle. She can navigate this place blindfolded - she won't get lost.
She doesn't know what to do - doesn't know how to tell the man she loves that another entity might be sharing his skin.
She will tell him - that is non-negotiable. But once he learns, he will want to distance himself from her. Separate himself so as to not hurt her.
But he didn't. Or at least, that thing didn't hurt her. Either by its own decision, or because of Michael's control - it didn't hurt her, or he wouldn't let it hurt her.
Elsa brings the scarf to her nose, inhaling the remnants of her mother's scent. It briefly eases her nerves, but it doesn't help her chaotic thoughts.
She turns another corner, this particular hallway occupied by a majority of glass doors and windows, leading one of the castle's many balconies overlooking the kingdom. She would've continued on her aimless route, had she not seen a reflection of pale hair through the glass.
At first, she thought it was her own reflection, but the hair was facing away from her. Then her eyes focus on the lithe form and long legs. It was Danika out on the balcony, watching the Northern Lights as its rippling curtain dances across the night sky.
This particular night is speared with shades of purple lingering at the hemline of the curtain, before smearing into a distinct green that fades as it reaches the stars.
The door had been left ajar, and even though Elsa knew the shifter was aware of her presence, she tentatively knocks.
Danika turns around and gives a tight smile - not due to her interruption, but due to the night's events. It seems her own thoughts are just as tangled as the queen's.
"Hi." Elsa says softly, as if she hasn't already disturbed her privacy. She doesn't even know why she's doing this.
"Hey Queeny." Danika says with a crumpled tone, no doubt just as exhausted. She turns back towards the lights, folding her arms as she leans her elbows on the balcony's wooden rail.
As Elsa steps up to her side, hands folded at her front - out of sheer habit rather than manners - the queen looks towards the sky as well, allowing a small smile of content for the beauty.
"It's beautiful." Danika mutters.
"It is. Sometimes I forget to appreciate it." Looking towards the shifter, Elsa hides her surprise at the realization that this is the first time she's seen Danika's natural hair color. It almost matches hers exactly. From behind, they might pass as sisters better than her and Anna. The thought makes her huff.
"What?" Danika asks.
"Nothing. I just thought of something funny."
"Want to tell me? I could use a laugh."
Though not her original thought, Elsa says, "Had I known I could make living snow creatures, I would've made Anna and I a dog."
It makes Danika laugh, and that's enough.
"What a waste." The shifter obliges.
After a moment of silence, of just staring at the lights and clinging to some kernel of tranquility, Elsa asks, "Are you okay?"
Danika scoffs, "Am I okay? You're the one who almost got incinerated by your boyfriend."
Elsa's gaze wanders. "I knew he wasn't going to hurt me."
"You're pretty trusting."
"Only of him." She tugs the scarf closer, looking out over the kingdom - her kingdom. "I'd like to think he had some kind of control over it so it wouldn't hurt me."
"Whether by luck, or by will, it's a good thing." Danika turns those citrine eyes towards the queen, and Elsa could swear they glowed with their own inner light. "That might not happen next time."
"I know."
Another passing moment of silence.
Danika carefully places her next words. "Then, you must know what I'm about to say next."
She could take a guess, but she still doesn't like it. Elsa's brows tent in preparation and hurt as she looks back towards the shifter. Her expression has shifted into a hardened focus she's only ever seen on Michael. The face of a soldier.
Slowly, as if she didn't want to say them, Danika confides, "He cannot stay here."
Reactive fear and panic has Elsa's heart quickening in speed, her lungs forcing a deep breath to keep up.
Before she can retort, Danika adds, "He needs more specialized training. We need to take him with us."
Elsa takes a few steadying breaths, "He won't leave me." Elsa whimpers. A true confession.
"Not unless you convince him."
Elsa straightens, despite already losing the battle. "And what if I can't?"
"Can't, or won't?" Danika sharpens. "You saw what happened in there, Elsa." Danika gestures a wide hand to the sleeping kingdom below. "What if that had been in the middle of the day? The streets flooded with people? Children? Eventually that thing is going to fight for control; and eventually, Michael won't be able to stop it. Oh, don't give me that look; I know what you're thinking: I don't want to take him away from you, Elsa. I'd never want to take my friend away from the one thing that has made him happy for the longest time. But I also know, if something were to happen to you, because of him, and he had the chance to prevent it, he will never forgive himself. And you won't be able to forgive yourself knowing there was something you could've done to prevent it."
Elsa thinks towards the fire in the woods, the eruption of light when he jumped into the fjord. That had barely been a fraction of power that he may wield.
And then the way Pabbie and the rest of the rolls reacted to him . . .
"There's another reason he can't stay."
Elsa and Danika both jump as Caiden's voice trickles from the shadows. Neither of them had heard him approach.
Only his crimson eyes glow in the shadow of the doorway, peeling away as he slowly steps out onto the balcony.
The soldier had slipped out once Michael had gone back to sleep. Elsa noticed he'd taken a hall leading to the library - of which was still being repaired. But she hadn't seen him for the last hour, and felt no inclination to go after him.
Danika is the first to speak their matching thoughts, "What's that?"
"I'm only running on a theory. I need more evidence," -he looks towards Elsa- "but right now, I'm asking you to trust me."
Elsa looks at the cambion, fear trickling up her spine at that crimson stare. At the thought of how many of his enemies had looked into those eyes and had taken their last breath.
But to her, those eyes only swam with power, and truth.
And while she and Danika - the latter mostly - weren't too happy about having secrets kept from them, the shifter apparently trusted him enough not to bark her objection.
So Elsa sighs and admits, "If Michael trusts you, then so do I."
Caiden's only response was to give a grateful bow.
The sunlight has followed him into reality. It caresses his cheek, only interrupted by shadows that zoom beyond his closed eyes. But unlike before, he knew those were birds.
Michael blinks his eyes open, staring into the ceiling of his room.
His room - he's back in his room, in the castle, in Arendelle.
Slowly, Michael sits up, feeling a slow, collective pain all over his body. As if his muscles had been tense for hours.
Yet still, that was second to the empty space in the bed beside him. Michael takes a quick glance around the room, knowing he wouldn't find Elsa there. But it never hurts to look.
He knew she probably left early to begin her queenly duties, so it was a pleasantly disturbing surprise when Elsa comes walking into his room with a breakfast tray in hand.
"You're awake," she mutters.
He would've smiled, he would've wrapped his hands around her waist, had her eyes not look so . . . haunted. Had she not looked at him like she'd disturbed a sleeping dragon.
There was an edge to her eyes that unnerved him . . . until it all came flooding back in a rush of air invading his lungs.
It makes Michael drop to his elbows, his body immediately clamming until his hands are trembling.
Somehow, this seems encouraging to Elsa, as she sets the tray aside as fast as she can without spilling its contents, before launching herself into bed with him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he cradles her in his lap as he shifts to sit up. Her breathing hitches, sniffling back tears as she holds him. His arms wrap around her back in turn.
"Are you okay?" she murmurs into his shoulder.
He answers, "I don't know."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He breaths in her scent of frosted lilacs. "No."
Elsa pulls back, taking his head in her hands, flicking over every inch. Inspecting. Her thumbs brush along his cheekbones, following a kiss after every touch. She navigates her way to his lips once more, quickly deepening it with a tilt of her head.
"Not my usual morning, but I suppose I could get used to it."
Seeing such relief, it makes his own eyes water. It also makes him wonder what exactly happened last night.
He remembers his dream - it honestly scared him half to death. The room doesn't look damaged -
"Are you alright?" Elsa asks again.
"I feel . . . okay." He looks to her, enveloping her hand in his. "Dare I ask what happened last night?"
"Yes, but first," she reaches over and grabs a slice of toast from the tray. Certainly well aware of how she stretches herself over his lap, leaving her ass wide open for a grab. But he refrains himself as she nestles between his legs, and readies the sandwich for him. "you're going to need your strength."