Stronger Together
CHAPTER ONE
Sunbeams stream through the forest trees, illuminating the path Elsa takes on her morning strolls. Bruni follows after her, occasionally riding along the ends of her wing-like capelets and chittering for an icy snack. The Snow Queen all but chuckles and obliges him with an elegant swirl of her wrists. Snowflakes flutter onto the blue salamander's extended tongue. The fire spirit seems to purr as the magic melts in his mouth.
When Elsa rounds the corner, Bruni leaps into her open palm and crawls up her arm to take his place as a lookout on her shoulder. A gust of wind flutters around Elsa, billowing her skirts with a chirp.
"Morning Gale," Elsa laughs. Her platinum hair flutters behind her, cascading across her back. "Everything seems to be in order; find anything suspicious?" Gale circles her. "Nothing? That's good."
As she continues on toward the water, the fire and wind spirits follow her. Elsa quietly walks past the three sleeping Earth Giants, careful not to disturb their slumber. Bruni hides behind the curtain of her hair, only peeking one eye out between a couple strands.
Further down the riverbank, a low neigh catches the Snow Queen's attention, and she toes down closer to the edge of the water. A water horse jumps out of the river and trots toward her. Elsa smiles, squinting her eyes and using her arm to shield her face when water splashes upward.
"Morning to you too, Nokk," she greets, raising a hand to pet his snout. A glint of silver in the sunlight catches her eye, wavering beneath the water horse's muzzle. "What's that you got there?" she asks.
Nokk whinnies and drops it into her open palm. Bruni, who is now perched on her wrist, trills curiously. He prods at the shiny spherical object, causing it to roll further into Elsa's palm. When he licks it, the salamander jumps. He flashes in a quick flare of pink and makes a face of such disgust that the Snow Queen can infer that whatever this object is, it certainly doesn't taste great.
She soothes the fire spirit by offering him a tiny snowflake.
With the little spirit now distracted, Elsa inspects the unfamiliar object. It's perfectly spherical, so it isn't anything natural. Its smoothness makes it seem manmade, but the Northuldra have never shown her anything of the sort. All of their materials are from nature itself, and Honeymaren stressed that they only use what the forest has an abundance of.
Elsa purses her lips; she'll have to take it back to the Northuldran camp.
When Nokk nudges her, she uses her free hand to channel her ice into the water spirit's pelt, freezing just his surface over. The now-ice horse tosses his head, the icicles of his mane shimmering like crystals, and canters majestically on land. Elsa is so awed by the ethereal display that she doesn't realize the burning sensations in her palm until it scorches.
She gasps sharply and recoils, startling Bruni off her shoulder, and uncurls her fingers to reveal angry red blisters bubbling on the surface of her pale skin directly beneath the metallic sphere. Gale circles her arm in a whirlwind of distress, and Nokk whinnies again, pawing the ground with an icy hoof.
Elsa holds onto the object, despite the pain, and mounts the horse.
"Back to the camp," she urges him breathlessly. Nokk breaks into a swift gallop through the forest.
As they approach the camp, Nokk slows and halts when he sees Yelena and Honeymaren approach. He bows low to the ground so Elsa can dismount. She winces as hot pain pulses throughout the hand holding the object. The Snow Queen attempts to hide the grimace, but to no avail. With the way the two women exchange looks, she knows they noticed.
Honeymaren approaches her first.
"Morning," Elsa greets her, fighting to ignore the pain. The woman merely quirks a brow at her and reaches for the hand Elsa has curled against her chest. When Honeymaren uncurls her fingers, the Snow Queen hears a loud gasp, and she can only imagine the damage it's done.
"Elsa, what happened?!" Honeymaren exclaims. The shock is evident in her voice, and Elsa can detect a tinge of anger in her tone. Yelena steps up beside her granddaughter and shares the reaction.
"What have you been doing, child? This must be treated right away—you have blisters!" Yelena admonishes, raising her voice in a way that makes Elsa flinch.
"I was just doing my early morning patrol," she defends, then offers the unknown object to them. "I found this inside Nokk. I don't know what it is, but it burns when I touch it."
"Elsa, if it burns, then why are you still holding it?!" Honeymaren chides. She scoops it out of her hands, and Elsa resists sighing in relief.
Elsa opens her mouth to retort but flushes instead. She had no place to put it and bringing it back to camp for further inspection was more important.
Yelena turns to Honeymaren and mutters, loud enough for Elsa to hear, "Salve and bandages. And for Elsa's sake, don't let her touch it again." As Yelena regards Elsa, giving her a once-over to make sure she hasn't burned herself elsewhere, she shakes her head and stalks off to check up on morning chores.
Honeymaren places the sphere in one of the pouches secured on her belt.
"Come on; we need to treat your hand."
Honeymaren leads Elsa to her tent and opens the door for her. Once inside, Elsa stands by the threshold with her blistered hand curled up by her chest and her other arm wrapped around her waist.
Honeymaren glances at her and scoffs, "Elsa, how many times do I have to tell you? Please make yourself comfortable. My tent is your tent."
The Snow Queen bites her lip. She understands the sentiment, but she has never spent time (with the exception of her sister) in someone else's private quarters for longer than a couple seconds. It's unnerving, like she's unintentionally invading the other woman's space. So she continues to stand by the door with her arms kept close to her body.
"Come sit, please," Honeymaren says so softly that Elsa almost wonders if this mellow woman is the same stoic person she witnessed earlier. She quietly obliges and takes a seat on the stool offered to her.
Honeymaren then extends a hand to her, but doesn't touch. Her brown eyes flit up to Elsa's, and Elsa nods then uncurls her arm to surrender her burned palm. The other woman thanks her and gently takes her by the arm, turning Elsa's wrist so her blistered palm faces upward.
When she starts applying the salve, Elsa flinches and nearly jerks her hand out of Honeymaren's grasp. A hiss is on the edge of her lips and tears prick at her eyes. She's burned herself before, but nothing to this degree. Her skin is peeling away around angry red blisters, hot to the touch. The Northuldran's grasp around her wrist tightens, careful not to harm her any further but enough to prevent her from pulling completely away. Honeymaren mutters an apology as she continues; but, this time, she eases her movements, and her touch is as gentle as her voice.
Elsa squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip. Honeymaren pauses, the fingers holding the Snow Queen in place flutter on her knuckles. Elsa furrows her brows and opens her eyes to find the Northuldran woman scowling at her.
"Stop that."
Elsa blinks, "Stop what?"
Honeymaren sighs, motioning with her free hand at the Snow Queen's face.
"Biting your lip. You're going to make yourself bleed!"
"Sorry," Elsa murmurs, releasing her lower lip.
The Northuldran woman doesn't respond; instead, she continues the task her grandmother entrusted her with.
She's a little tense, Elsa notices. Her shoulders are drawn up just a fraction, and her lips are pursed. Despite Honeymaren's tenderness, her fingers tremble with each motion.
Elsa frowns. The silence treks on for another minute before she finally speaks up. "Honeymaren." The woman pauses and glances up at her name, quirking a brow. "I can tend to myself. It's fine. Don't worry about me."
Honeymaren shakes her head with a chuckle. "I know for a fact that no one taught you how to properly dress a burn wound yet. Besides, Yelena entrusted this to me. Don't worry, I'm almost done."
Elsa shakes her head and starts to pull her hand back, "I insist. You already applied the salve; I can handle it from here."
Honeymaren doesn't let go. "I know for a fact that you're as stubborn as a reindeer on a quest for carrots; and, if I leave you to finish this on your own, you would forgo the bandages. I'm not going anywhere until your hand is wrapped."
Elsa opens her mouth to retort but knows she's right. She can't argue against that, especially not when the wrapping is nearly finished already. So instead she relaxes with a nod.
Honeymaren responds with a soft smile, pleased that she's cooperative again, and finishes wrapping the bandages. "There. Good as new. Though I wouldn't advise you using that hand until Yelena or I say so. Chief's orders."
Elsa raises a brow at this, a tiny smirk playing at her lips. "Chief's orders, huh? You're not even the chief."
"No," Honeymaren agrees as she packs up the first aid. "But Yelena is, and she ordered me to tend to you. Would you rather face her wrath instead? Trust me, Your Majesty, when I say that I'm doing you a favor," she chuckles.
"Very well," Elsa replies. Then, she frowns. "I thought I've told you to stop calling me that."
"Stop calling you what? 'Your Majesty'?" At Elsa's pointed look, Honeymaren raises her hands in surrender. "I slipped. Though be that as it may, you'll always be a queen to me. After all, you're the 'Snow Queen' foreigners far and wide say there've been sightings of in this very forest."
Elsa laughs a little. "Oh, is that so?"
"Fifth Spirit. Snow Queen. You're practically a myth now," Honeymaren continues with a sly smile.
Elsa finds that smile contagious and can't keep the tiny smirk off her face. Her eyes then trail down to the pouch at Honeymaren's belt that she knows is holding the cursed object.
"May I see it?" she asks.
Honeymaren follows her gaze before locking her eyes back on Elsa.
"So you can burn yourself again? I don't think so," she says dryly, taking the pouch off her belt and moving it further from Elsa's reach.
Elsa frowns. "I'm not going to touch it, I just. . . need to inspect it further. We don't know what it is or why Nokk had it. Neither of us has seen anything like it before either."
Honeymaren eyes her suspiciously for a few seconds before sighing and taking the sphere out of the bag. "Fine, but if you even think about touching it, I'm putting it away. For good."
When she holds it in her open palm between them, Elsa cranes her neck a little to get a better view. It's as small as a berry—perhaps even smaller—and sits still between the lines of Honeymaren's perfectly tan skin. Elsa's blue eyes flicker, inspecting each part of the other woman's palm for any sign of blistering.
None.
Elsa relaxes at this knowledge. In the back of her mind, she's thankful that her friend is unaffected by it, then prays that no one else has the same reaction she has to the material.
Honeymaren rolls it in her palm, then catches it between her index finger and thumb, lifting it up to eye-level. Elsa's skeptical gaze follows.
"It looks and feels like steel. You're not allergic to that, are you?" When Elsa shakes her head, Honeymaren hums in thought. "It feels natural but doesn't look like it's from nature. Did any of the spirits react to it when you found it?"
Elsa sits up straighter, pursing her lips in thought.
"It didn't seem to bother Nokk. Gale seemed fine; and, Bruni licked it, seemed disgusted, but was also fine." Elsa shifts her gaze down to her hands and bites her lip. ". . .I'm the only one affected by it."
Honeymaren looks concerned. She rolls the sphere back into her palm and inspects it for a minute. "That's odd. It doesn't look or feel like a material we work with either. Would someone in Arendelle know what it is?"
"That seems more likely," Elsa replies. "I'm heading there in a day or so; perhaps General Mattias can tell me what it is."
Honeymaren nods as she tucks the sphere away. "I'll keep this safe for you until then."
And don't touch it! Elsa can practically hear the unspoken words. She gives a crooked smile and says, "Don't worry; I wouldn't dream of touching it after that debacle."
Honeymaren just snorts, "Somehow, I don't believe you. You better not."
Elsa rolls her eyes. She won't sit here and attempt to convince Honeymaren that she doesn't have a burn wish.
An uncomfortable silence stretches between them, and Elsa takes this as her cue to leave. She stands, sending Honeymaren a grateful smile.
"Thank you. For tending to my hand. You didn't have to do that."
Honeymaren hesitates, and she averts her gaze as she stands to brush herself off. "I-It's no problem," she replies. When she meets Elsa's eyes, she clears her throat, and a quirk of her lips graces her features. "Besides, I don't think I would have trusted anyone else with the task. Only I am equipped enough to deal with your stubborn self."
"Not stubborn," Elsa mutters. She thins her lips, sucking them in and wetting them. Her mouth feels dry. "Are we done here?"
"So long as you don't plan on burning yourself even more, yes. We're done here," the Northuldran woman quips.
Elsa rolls her eyes. "You have the thing I'm allergic to, remember? So everything is dandy now." She makes to stand, accidentally pushing off the stool with her injured hand and flinching with a low hiss. Her body tenses, and she curls her arm into her chest, cradling it.
"Dandy, huh?" Honeymaren raises a brow.
"Yes. Dandy. I've been cornered like an animal, shot at with crossbows, locked in iron manacles in a dungeon, sick and almost fell off a clocktower, survived the spirits throwing a tantrum in Arendelle, dragged across the Dark Sea by the Nokk, and frozen to death in Ahtohallan. A little burn is something I can handle."
"Yet, you clearly can't function," Honeymaren quips dryly. She crosses her arms and raises a brow.
Elsa fixes her with a quick glare before she straightens herself and holds her head high.
"I can function just fine," she says. "I just accidentally used the wrong hand." As if to prove a point, she waves her left hand and conjures a series of fluttering snowflakes. The action, however, makes her recoil with a sharp gasp. Scorching pain crawls up both her arms. It feels as though someone took a burning dagger and is peeling at her skin. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and her legs buckle.
Honeymaren rushes to Elsa's side, catching her by the waist and throwing her good arm over her shoulders to support her.
The Snow Queen purses her lips, face red with embarrassment at knowing her companion is witnessing her vulnerability.
Honeymaren eyes her with mild amusement. She shakes her head. "You were saying?"
Elsa balls her free hand into a fist and sets her jaw. "I can survive being dragged across the Dark Sea and Ahtohallan, but it's a stupid shiny ball that makes me incapacitated?!" she grumbles.
"It would appear so," Honeymaren replies, her voice carrying a slight lilt. "Come on; let's take you somewhere you can rest—so you won't continue to hurt yourself."
Before Elsa has time to protest, the Northuldran woman slides her arm underneath the crook of Elsa's knees and scoops her into her arms. Her other arm is wrapped tight enough around Elsa's waist.
"W-What are you doing?" Elsa sputters, panic rising in her chest. "It's only my hand that's burned; I can walk!" She squirms for a moment, but Honeymaren tightens her hold; and, Elsa realizes she can't do much with one hand.
"I'm taking you back to your tent so you can rest. And only rest. No more magic. Not until your hand is healed."
Elsa resists the urge to groan all the way back to her tent.
I'm back from an almost 8-month writer's block with a new fic (woo-hoo). I'm not abandoning my other fics, but I'm vibrating with excitement about this one. It's been in the back of my mind since watching Frozen II for the first time and I've finally been able to give it a full plot. Buckle in, this is going to be a long and rough ride!
Also, please leave a comment on your way out ;)