AN:
There's a little bonus at the end for this one!
Tear
The blanket was empty. Of course it was empty. Anna stared at the crumpled heap on Kristoff's bunk, thrown aside like her heart had been when she'd woken to find everyone gone.
She couldn't blame him, not really.
The words she'd spoken to him had stayed with her for a while.
Maybe we're rushing into this.
Even now, sitting cross-legged on the bed she had shared with Elsa, Anna mentally kicked herself at her saying it so directly, so... bluntly. The hurt in his eyes, the way his entire body shrunk as if sick... She'd done that to him. She'd had to say it, of course she had, but there had been no need to announce it like a public executioner with a grudge.
She thought about the ring she'd left at the castle and wondered whether she'd have taken it out of her finger.
I would have. I know I would. Thank the spirits rings are terrible with swords.
At least he had been spared that.
The door creaked open, and Anna lifted her head to see Elsa slip inside. Her sister's ears were flushed slight pink, and there was something different about her—a smile she seemed to be trying and spectacularly failing to hide, the same type of face she'd usually make after she'd get a very angry Count of Kensburg to admit her trade route suggestions were the better choice. But the expression vanished the moment their eyes met.
"You're up early," Elsa said, taking in the empty bunk.
"And you're one to talk." Anna's fingers found a loose thread on her sleeve and fiddled with it to take her mind off whatever it was trying to think up. "He left right after you did."
The bed dipped when Elsa settled at her side, close enough that their shoulders touched. The contact was both welcome and intimidating, a reminder that no matter what else changed, this never would. This once, the weight seemed heavier.
"I'm here. What's the matter?"
Elsa's voice was soft, free of judgment. A tone she'd heard a few times in the last years, mainly around Garret. She didn't know what to make of it being directed toward her now, what that meant about her and her situation, and it was not about to ease her nerves. Still, Elsa was here, like she had promised, like Anna had let herself hope. That was already a win.
Her hands twisted in her lap.
"I asked him if he was really okay with the life he was signing up for." The thread snapped. "He wasn't."
Elsa breathed in for an unreasonably long time, then sighed. "I… see. Honesty breach."
At the very least Elsa pinpointed the problem right away. For all the hush-hush she'd been playing at, she had learned to cut the issues short by being direct whenever she did decide to talk. Something Anna liked to think was learned from her.
Good going, Princess Nah-everything's-good. Swallow your own medicine for once.
She had no idea why her thoughts were so harsh towards herself, but they were. And she had to deal with that. Of course, Elsa would understand it—Anna had forced herself to stick to what she thought was true for every second of her life, even if that sometimes got her into trouble. Time for that truth to be hurtful.
"Yeah," Anna admitted, leaning into her. "Why did he need to hide it? Was it me? Was it because he's not sure we could survive that?"
Elsa circled her shoulder and brought her even closer. Her smooth cold was less stark than usual. "Did it break your trust in him?"
The question made Anna pause. She thought about Kristoff's face when she'd confronted him, the raw vulnerability in his voice as he'd tried to explain.
"It almost did," she said, her words weighed and chosen. "But... he told me he believed he could make it work. That he wanted to try, for me." That part she had believed without a single ounce of doubt, because Kristoff was like that, she loved him for it, and that was enough to pry a small smile out of her. "I think I'm ready to give him another chance. We just need to... not lie? How hard can that be?"
She met Elsa's eyes and saw something in there that reminded her so much of their father she had to stifle a surprised gasp. The sheer intensity in that gaze, the pure focus on her, the discreet but very present crease at the top of her nose; all the same as his.
"It gets harder the more you care, then it gets easier. I know something about that," she said with that slow and steady inflection she reserved for diplomats, and that was decidedly way too queen-esque. "I hope you're aware…" Elsa continued, her brows slightly lower now. "…being a prince doesn't mean he has to stop being who he is. He could oversee Arendelle's wilderness reserves or manage supply routes through the mountains." She smiled. "That would get him out now and again. The castle doesn't have to be a cage."
Anna perked up slightly. "I... know."
"Does he?"
"I don't think so."
"And why didn't you tell him?"
Another pregnant pause. Anna uncrossed her legs, kicked the air in front of her and fixed a very captivating shard of wood sticking out from the wall ahead; whatever she'd thought of answering with was already flying away towards warmer climates. There it was, the reason her own mind had been punching her for the entire night. The real reason she had spent the previous evening wallowing in her own guilt and her sleep had been so restless.
"Part of me wanted to know whether he'd be ready to sacrifice it for me."
A cold different than Elsa's seeped into her bones. Saying it aloud was different, almost as if she was discovering it herself.
"It's stupid, isn't it," Anna half-laughed, half-cried. "Good ol' honesty's-better Anna thinking that."
Elsa's grip over her shoulder grew firmer, and her voice was quieter when she scooted an additional inch towards her Anna thought had already been bridged.
"Did you doubt he could make that sacrifice? He was ready to leave you behind when he thought you loved Hans."
Anna nodded, tears now dangerously close to spilling out. "I told you, it's stupid. I lied too, I guess."
"You did. All the more reason to not let this hang."
Anna agreed. Both her and Kristoff deserved more than that. It wasn't a matter of admitting now, but of correcting.
"Mother did that," Elsa continued, her small smile telling Anna she perfectly knew what was going on. "She left her entire people behind to be with Father. Her home, her way of life... everything she had." She took Anna's hand. "And from what I remember she'd do it all again."
"I just… I don't want him to resent me for it."
She let that sentence linger a bit, thinking of the Northuldra's anger at their mother's choice. At how Ryder had spat his fury about as subtly as a kicked dirtball to the face, at how Honeymaren had looked like she fought back the need to do the same every time they spoke. She got better, at least.
"Kristoff loves you, Anna. Everyday I'm reminded I don't know enough about romance, but that I can see clear as day. I wouldn't let him near you if I didn't believe that, let alone give him my blessing for your hand."
Anna scoffed and raised a single eyebrow. "Really now, mother bear?"
"Not within a mile," Elsa emphasized with an oddly cheerful shake of her head. "My sister deserves the best. I claim superiority when it comes to birthday presents, but Kristoff can have second place."
Anna chuckled, her hand going to Blue's immaculate sheath, inclined against the makeshift bed post. A crystal and leather circling always within reach.
"Maybe start by helping him be honest about his fears," Elsa suggested. "Speak from your heart."
"That was the plan, actually. I just have a better idea what to say now."
Elsa's radiant smile from earlier was back. "Good talk then?"
"The best," Anna answered. "But still not done, sly little thing. You have stuff for me."
She straightened away from the side-embrace and pivoted to face Elsa with a drum roll over the bed and a quick bite of her lower lip, registering her sister's demeanor that she'd been too wrapped up in her own troubles to analyze before. That lingering smile, the flush in her cheeks, the way her hand kept clasping and unclasping in her lap...
"What happened with you two this morning? You came in looking pretty pleased with yourself."
She studied Elsa's face carefully. Her sister was practically glowing, even as she tried to maintain her usual composure. Her hand left her shoulder and twisted with the other—a nervous tell Anna knew better than her own—but her smile was warm, genuine.
"As often, I was wrong," Elsa explained. "About everything I was worried about." She drew a deep breath, and Anna held hers. "He swore he'll stay by my side, whatever happens."
"Of course he will," Anna replied automatically, not bothering to mask her confusion. Wasn't that the most obvious thing about him? Then she saw something in Elsa's expression shift, something deep and tender and almost luminous. "Elsa, don't tell me you don't–"
"I know, I know. A fool, aren't I? He reminded me how much."
Simple words, but they carried the weight of revelation. Anna's eyes widened as understanding crashed over her.
"He told you," she whispered, her own heart suddenly too big for her chest. "He finally told you."
Elsa's nod was tiny, a bit shy, but her smile... Oh, her smile. Anna had seen her sister smile countless ways over the years. Political smiles at envoys, contrived smiles at pompous monarchs, exasperated half-smiles at her and Garret's pranks, amused full smiles at Kristoff and Sven's antics, soft-reserved-just-for-family smiles. But this? This was something entirely new. This was pure joy trying desperately to contain itself, sunlight breaking through an entire glacier.
"What exactly did he say?" Anna asked, unable to keep her curiosity in check and hopping closer. "I mean, if you want to repeat it."
Elsa's cheeks reddened even further, and her beam didn't fade. "He said he doesn't..." She cleared her throat, clearly selecting what parts to detail. "He just wanted me to know. And that he'll be there. With me."
"And when did all of this…" she gestured vaguely toward Elsa. "…start?"
"Two years ago. We shared a dance, an embrace and a promise. One I was mistaken about, but which I vow to keep."
Elsa closed her eyes, and Anna could easily guess she was revisiting a precious memory. Nevermind that Elsa had danced – that was already earth-shattering in itself – but a hug with someone who wasn't herself?
Downright unthinkable for the Elsa I grew up… well, not around, but still.
All the times Anna had watched her and Garret tiptoe around each other, all the quiet moments and stolen glances, the way he'd wait for her after council meetings just to walk her to dinner, how she'd get closer to him when any setting got too crowded, how he'd use every opportunity to make her laugh, how she'd paradoxically seek him out when she needed alone time... It had been building to this, this moment of truth between them. One they had needed to validate, rather than to calibrate.
"Elsa..." She threw her arms around her sister fiercely. "Sorry for the turn of phrase but it was about damn time you saw it."
They clung to each other. After everything Elsa had been through, all the fears and doubts she'd harbored about letting anyone close, for her to hear those words, to truly hear them and believe them because they came from someone who fully saw Elsa and not just the Snow Queen...
She'd need to give Garret the biggest hug.
"What a pair, huh?" she managed, sniffling lightly. "Both of us crying over boys before breakfast."
"At least we'll have things to write in those diaries for a while," Elsa replied.
"I do have another secret though," Anna said when she pulled away.
Elsa lifted an eyebrow. "You're hungry?"
"Absolutely famished! Let's get something in these bellies."
She draped her mother's scarf around Elsa – after all she had hogged it all to herself for the night – and with a quick laugh, they both exited the hut's cozy atmosphere.
The camp was stirring to life around them, scents of woodsmoke and cooking drifting on the breeze; Anna's stomach growled in another reminder that emotional conversations, even the extremely necessary and urgent type, weren't food.
Olaf held court among the children, launching into an increasingly absurd explanation of how reindeer's knees technically bend backwards. His twig arms flailed as he compared human and animal anatomies with cheerful inaccuracy, occasionally stopping mid-sentence to gasp at his own revelations. The kids watched in amused confusion as he meandered from topic to topic, his philosophical musings about existence getting mixed up with facts about migration patterns he'd clearly misheard from Kristoff.
Anna spotted Garret, Honeymaren, and Mattias gathered around one of the communal fires, sharing what looked like a simple but hearty meal. Her heart gave a little flutter when Garret immediately noticed their approach, his eyes finding Elsa's with an affection that made Anna want to squeal with delight. The smile that bloomed across her sister's face in response was small, proper—they were in public after all—but it held such genuine joy that Anna had to bite her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness," Mattias greeted them, rising to his feet. "I hope you both managed to get some rest?"
"As much as can be expected," Elsa replied, settling onto one of the logs arranged around the fire. Garret subtly shifted to make space for her, not quite next to him but close enough.
Honeymaren passed them each a bowl of what appeared to be porridge mixed with forest berries.
"It's not exactly castle fare," she said with a slightly apologetic shrug, "but it'll keep you going."
"It's perfect, thank you," Elsa assured her, and Anna gave an enthusiastic nod around her first mouthful.
After yesterday's trials, the rough night and this morning's conversation, she was hungry enough that even plain gruel would have tasted like a feast.
Through the corner of her eyes, Anna caught sight of Liyana and Karl sharing another log for a bench. She was practically beaming at her full bowl, while he lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at his own portion, poking at it as if expecting it to fight back. She elbowed him with that familiar warmth Anna had started recognizing in soldiers who'd spent too much time together, then pointed to her wooden spoon with exaggerated ceremony. Making sure he was watching, she raised it to her mouth in an absurdly slow and careful lift, her free finger still very much raised towards it and following it up. She wiggled her brows at her particularly dense student in the intricate art of eating, then promptly destroyed the illusion by chowing down on it with childish enthusiasm. Her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's, and she let out a playful chortle.
Karl rolled his eyes at her, but his stern features softened. He threw a quick, almost guilty glance towards where Honeymaren sat with her own breakfast, then shrugged before finally diving into his own porridge with considerably less fluff.
The group ate in companionable silence for a few moments. Anna couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed in just a day—Honeymaren seemed more at ease around them now, though she still maintained a careful distance. Even Mattias appeared relaxed.
But there were two notable absences.
"Has anyone seen Kristoff?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. "Or Ryder?"
The others exchanged glances and shook their heads.
"Not since dawn," Honeymaren answered. "Ryder mentioned something about taking a morning walk, but..." She trailed off with a deep frown.
"Kristoff came out the hut with me," Garret added, his eyes flying to Anna in a way that made her understand he had known not to ask questions. "Said something about Sven needing exercise."
Anna pushed her remaining porridge around her bowl, appetite suddenly diminished. Elsa's hand settled on her knee, a silent gesture of support.
"I'm sure they'll turn up soon," Mattias said, his tone gentle. "The forest can be good for clearing one's head."
Anna caught the furtive and knowing look that passed between Elsa and Garret at those words. He gave a small agreeing nod and looked amused; she was softly chuckling between two delicate gulps.
They're adorable. And they think they're being so subtle.
The fire crackled, sending sparks dancing into the morning air. Sally, who had been contentedly curled on Elsa's shoulder, perked up at the display and chirped.
"Destin…" Elsa said after a moment, her voice taking on that subtle shift in tone that meant she was transitioning from sister to queen. "...we had planned to talk."
"We had, indeed. Let us find a more private–"
His words faded into the background when Anna made out someone's dark silhouette far into the forest depths, sitting atop a sturdy branch. Abnormally long arms dangled like lazy creepers, and whoever it was seemed to sway back and forth like a puppet suspended by invisible strings, movements snappy and disjointed.
"Who's that?" she asked.
The others fell silent, following her frozen stare into the shadows.
Then the figure's head whirled toward them with a sickening speed that no living creature could achieve, its neck twisting well beyond what should have broken it. But even without that, the bright yellow eyes blazing from the darkness and what she could now see were ragged edges shuffling all around the body would have set off all sorts of alarms anyway.
She would have stood to her feet if the ground hadn't torn open and swallowed her whole before she could scream a single word of warning.
Ryder crouched low behind a gnarled oak, its thick trunk providing ample cover. Through the veil of crimson leaves, he watched as Sven galloped around the clearing, hooves churning up dust and fallen foliage. Kristoff stood at the center, arms crossed, his stance relaxed but attentive.
"Attaboy, Sven!" Kristoff called out, voice carrying easily across the space. The reindeer responded with an enthusiastic bellow and picked up his speed.
Why him?
Ryder couldn't stop that thought from picking at his brain.
They spoke like old friends did. Those who had shared everything. Ryder couldn't help but notice the way Sven anticipated Kristoff's commands, how the man communicated with the smallest gestures.
He didn't like that.
"You planning on spying all day?"
Kristoff's words startled Ryder out of his thoughts. He remained facing forward, not even bothering to turn around.
"No need to skulk in the bushes. Sven likes you. For some reason."
Heat crawled up Ryder's neck, embarrassment at being caught hotter when he understood why he had been so careless. He stepped out from behind the tree, one hand clenched around his father's pearl in his pocket, and walked closer.
"I wasn't spying," he drawled out, hating how defensive he sounded. "Just watching."
Kristoff shrugged, the movement quick but oddly rigid. "Call it what you want." He reached out to pat Sven's flank as the reindeer trotted up to him, sides heaving from exertion. "But you understand him, don't you? What he says?"
Ryder stiffened, torn between the instinct to deny and the unfamiliar urge to confide.
"I... Sometimes. Bits and pieces. They talk to me, but it's mostly nonsense. I can usually get the meaning though. They're simpler than people. Easier."
Kristoff hummed at that, his hands going to his companion's head with precise and vigorous strokes Sven enjoyed very much.
"They are," he said, something wistful in his voice. "He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Since I was a kid. I understand him better than other reindeers."
Despite himself, Ryder felt a spark of curiosity. "When did you first notice? That you could understand them?"
"Early. Couldn't tell you exactly when." Kristoff scratched at his chin, gaze distant. "Just always had a sense for it. Used to drive the ice harvesters crazy, me always yapping away to Sven. They figured I was just talking to imaginary friends."
"The elders said I was being ridiculous. Got me pissed pretty bad," Ryder said. Sven let out an indignant snort and Ryder glared at him. "I am not always angry!"
Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Coulda fooled me."
"Hey, shove it." Ryder felt it rising again, old resentment building under his skin. "If I want to be angry around you I can still do wha—"
"Don't bother," Kristoff interrupted, sharp and curt. He took a step forward that had Ryder fighting the reflex to back away. "I had that anger too, once. At those who abandoned me without giving me a name."
Ryder blinked, thrown off balance by the sudden change in the conversation. "That's... I'm—"
"I carried it for a long time," Kristoff continued. "At them, at everyone. Extended it to anything fleshy that stood on two legs. Reindeers were the only ones who made sense. Even forgot I had it sometimes." He sighed, and his body slumped with old hurt. "But you know what? I asked myself one question. What's the point?"
Ryder's mouth twisted. His response to that was resolute and tempered. "Justice. We both know that. That's the point."
Kristoff shook his head. "Not what I answered, mine was exhaustion." He glanced back toward the Arendellian camp, something soft and fond settling over his features. "I hanged onto some to stay sharp, though."
Ryder thought of Honeymaren, of the determined way she spoke of giving the Arendellians the benefit of doubt.
He didn't like that.
Silence stretched between them, heightened by the distant rustling of leaves.
"Your sister said your dad was spirit-touched by earth," Kristoff ventured after the long moment. "That's pretty rare, right?"
"What's it to you?"
"Easy there. I'm just trying to understand. These trials... If the touched have abilities similar to the spirits', any info could help."
Ryder hesitated. To see the sky…
Why do I not like that?
Squaring his shoulders, he met Kristoff's gaze head on.
"It's earth-touched. They know the forest by heart, even the places they've never been. Don't need maps. They have it carved into their bones," he said. "And they have good smell, better than a wolf's."
Kristoff nodded, thoughtful. "Okay, that tracks. And you said fire-touched can feel people?"
"Feel them and locate them," Ryder corrected. "No matter where they are. They don't get hot either. Fire can't touch them."
"Right." Kristoff ticked the points off on his fingers. "Water-touched can get truth out of you..."
"...with sacred water. They also see better."
"So that just leaves wind-touched."
"Those… are the rarest." Pain twisted in his chest but he pushed on. "They can sorta float, fly, hover, whatever. And they hear you from across the forest." He swallowed hard. "Iduna could've heard a twig snap from the other side of the village. With her, they wouldn't have caught us–"
Kristoff's eyes narrowed. "I'm gonna stop you there. Whatever your feelings on Iduna, I wouldn't bring her up in front of Elsa and Anna. It's still hard for them."
Fury's lava flooded Ryder's face. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't say!"
"I'm not threatening you," Kristoff cut in. "I'm asking. Man to man. They grieve her, even after all this time. Leave them in peace, please."
"Peace?" Ryder snarled. "What do you know of peace? There's too much blood—"
"And we're trying to make amends!" Kristoff was towering over him. "Elsa freed the Fire spirit, didn't she? We're on your side here!"
"Are you that naïve?!" Ryder's hands curled into fists, trembling at his sides. "You can't just waltz in and expect—"
A deep, bone-shaking rumble cut off his tirade. The ground beneath their feet shuddered, sending vibrations up Ryder's legs. Sven let out a distressed bray, ears flicking back in alarm.
"What the..." Kristoff spun toward the Arendellian camp, where distant shouts could be heard over the growing roar. Plumes of dust rose in hazy clouds, obscuring the neat rows of tents.
Without a word, they broke into a sprint, racing toward the source of the commotion. The dust-choked air stung their eyes as they reached the camp, finding nothing but eerie silence and empty tents swaying in the wind. Not a single soldier, not a single child remained.
"Anna!" Kristoff called out. His shout echoed through the vacant clearing, met only by deafening stillness.
Ryder joined him. "Maren!"
A distressed bellow from Sven drew their attention. The reindeer stamped his hooves urgently towards a lone figure half-hidden by scattered bowls and upturned logs.
"Elsa!" Kristoff was at her side in an instant, falling to his knees beside her. His hands hovered over her shoulders. "Elsa, can you hear me?"
She stirred with a soft groan, one hand coming up to massage her temple as she slowly pushed herself to a sit.
"Kristoff..." She sounded disoriented. "What happened?"
"I was hoping you could tell me that."
"Where's my sister?" Ryder demanded.
Elsa winced, both at his tone and at what seemed to be a forming headache. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know where any of them went. We were just eating and Anna noticed something strange in the trees, this... this silhouette, and then—" She broke off, jaw clenched. "Everything after that is blank."
Ryder cupped his hands around his mouth. "MAREN!" His sister's name echoed through the empty camp, mocking him with its hollow return.
They split up in a frantic search for any sign of life. Kristoff went around the eastern tents, his voice breaking as he called Anna's name over and over. Near the central fire pit, Elsa was turning in small circles, shouting for Garret, Karl, Olaf, Liyana, for anyone. Even Sven trotted back and forth, sniffing the ground on his way.
"The kids too," Kristoff said, his face low and ashen as he rejoined them. "They're all gone."
Rage and fear were now both burning inside Ryder. "Mattias!" he tried, surprising himself by calling for the Arendellian lieutenant. No answer came. The camp felt like a tomb, heavy with unnatural silence.
Ryder then noticed how Sven was focusing on something at the center of camp. He followed the reindeer's gaze and froze. Where moments ago there had been only scattered traces of a breakfast cut short, now sat a chalice hewn from dark stone, perched atop a freshly risen mound of earth.
"Was that there before?" Kristoff asked, taking a hesitant step closer.
Elsa shook her head, her eyes fixed on the vessel. "No, that's new."
There were markings on the stone, punched in as if a rough and unsteady silex had chiseled them out. Ryder came to look, and his fingers traced the air above them, careful not to touch them. His father had shown him those runes once, carved them into tree bark with careful hands while explaining their meaning.
"Protection. Binding. Return. Dad knew 'em."
But there were other marks too, fluid and foreign where the Northeldrian were angular. He watched as Elsa studied them, concentrating despite her obvious distress. Strange, how familiar that expression looked – the same focused determination he tried not to forget.
"These are Arendellian," she murmured, and something in Ryder bristled at how reverently she spoke. "Old alphabet runes. Loss and Change. I assume this is all part of the Earth Trial."
Her pale fingers hovered over the etchings just as his had. The sight of her ice creeping toward the chalice sent a jolt of alarm through him.
"Wait—" he started, but it was too late. The moment frost kissed stone, the ground beneath them came alive.
The tremor started small, a vibration he felt in his bones before his ears caught it. Then it grew, rattling his teeth, and he scrambled back on instinct. The chalice, the same chalice that had looked so solid moments before, split with a sound that was too close to breaking bones. The crack ran straight down its center, perfect and precise, earth itself having decided where it should rip.
As the halves fell away, Ryder found himself staring into a simple plate snuggled between two circular platforms. Rock stopped moving, but something about it felt wrong. Unnatural. Like it was waiting for something.
His hand went to his pocket where his father's pearl sat against his leg. The smooth surface was warm to touch, almost uncomfortably so, and he could have sworn he felt it pulse in time with the fading tremors. A strange smell rose from under him, one that mixed fresh leaves and turned soil.
What are you trying to tell me? he thought, eyes fixed on those twin platforms. What am I supposed to see?
Before Ryder could ponder the pearl's strange behavior any further, a guttural roar ripped through the thicket around them, powerful and resonating. His head snapped up, eyes widening as he took in the massive silhouette emerging from the treeline.
It moved with a lumbering gait, each step shaking the entire camp. As it drew closer, it shrank and changed, its mass transferring downward into the ground while it morphed from a towering golem to something smaller, more defined. By the time it came out the dense forest, Ryder could make out the distinct shape of a gorilla, its body built block by block entirely from stone.
"What in the spirits' name..." Kristoff breathed.
The Earth Spirit paused, its bright yellow eyes sweeping over them while trails of magic followed. Then, with a speed that belied its size, it reached down and snatched up a small boulder, hurling the projectile straight at the broken chalice.
Ryder braced for impact, but instead of shattering, the twin platforms stood unscathed while the boulder disintegrated into dust. The gorilla let out a frustrated huff, hardened fists pounding against its chest. It loped forward, its limbs rearranging into a chimpanzee's, and leaped up to hang from a nearby branch. The chimp swung, jerky and unsettling, before dropping back to the ground a few yards away from them with a thud that made Ryder understand just how heavy it was.
They observed each other in quiet and nervous assessment, only broken by Elsa's trembling words.
"I… I think it's trying to tell us something," she said, her brow furrowed. "The chalice, the way it destroyed that rock..."
"It's a clue," Ryder realized. "The Spirit want us to use this somehow."
The chimp cocked its head. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, it slammed its fist into the earth.
The ground shook again, cracks spreading out from the impact point. Ryder stumbled, nearly losing his footing. All around them, jagged stone spires burst from the soil, rising up to form crude cages barely large enough for a person to stand.
Kristoff's panicked cry was immediate. "Anna!"
Inside the nearest rocky cell, the princess' unconscious body was curled into an unnatural position, the tight space forcing her limbs to contort. The bars were so close together she couldn't have stretched out even if she were awake.
Elsa's hands flew to the ragged bars, frost spreading uselessly across their surface. Just a few feet away, Garret lay slumped in an equally confining cage, his broad shoulders pressed uncomfortably against the rough walls, head lolling forward. She went to him too, her fingers passing through barely enough to graze his cheeks. The other Arendellians were similarly imprisoned, bodies twisted to fit the suffocating confines. The children were all hurdled together, sleeping as well, with the talking snowman. But the one cage he was looking for was farther.
"Maren!" Ryder sprinted forward, heedless of the still-shaking ground. His hands scrabbled at the roughs of another cage where his sister was wedged into tiny space, dark hair spilling over her face. "Maren, wake up!"
No matter how hard Ryder pounded against the prison, no matter how loudly he called, Maren remained motionless. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, but her eyes stayed closed, face slack and peaceful in deep sleep.
"Anna, please!" Kristoff pressed himself against the bars.
The Earth Spirit let out a rumbling growl that shook leaves from the trees. It brought both massive fists down, and the ground buckled beneath its will. The stone cages groaned, bars drawing closer together while hissing like grinding teeth. Inside, the prisoners shifted and rolled but showed no signs of stirring to life.
"No!" Elsa thrust her hands forward and summoned her frost to race up the bars of the nearest cage.
The spirit's reaction was immediate and violent. It roared, slammed again, harder this time, and the cages constricted further. The bars pressed inward with inexorable force, leaving barely enough room for their captives to breathe.
"Stop!" Ryder shouted as he watched the space around his sister shrink. "Your magic's only making it worse!"
Elsa's ice shattered and fell away, and the cages froze the second her magic dissolved.
The Earth Spirit gathered mass from under it and transformed, rock and stone rotating into a massive orangutan. It knuckle-walked toward them on long arms, and when it reached the broken chalice, it sat back on its haunches and waited, brilliant eyes now fixed over them.
"It's trying to tell us something," Kristoff said. "The runes, the cages, the way it's just... watching us."
Elsa drew a shaky breath, visibly forcing herself to focus past her fear. "The runes..." She turned to Ryder. "What do they mean to you?"
Ryder's hand found his father's pearl again, rolling it between his fingers as he thought. It was still very much warmer than he'd grown used to, almost vibrating with some sort of strange energy.
"Protection and Binding... those are earth magic. The way the forest keeps us safe, the way roots hold everything together." He frowned. "But Return... that's different. That's about cycles, about things coming back to how they were."
"And Lost with Change..." Kristoff added, eyes darting between the chalice and the cages. "Maybe... maybe we have to change something that was lost? Or lose something to make a change?"
The pearl in his pocket seemed to grow warmer with each passing second, as if trying to tell him something. Then it hit him – a memory of his father standing in their village center, explaining how earth magic worked with the very nacre he now held firmly in his clasped knuckle.
"Everything has to balance," he reasoned. "That's what Dad always said. That's what the platforms mean. If you want earth somewhere, you need to take it from someplace else. For something to be gained, something has to be given. Like how the forest takes back what we use, or how spring always follows winter."
"A trade," Elsa said, following his logic. "We have to trade something to get them back."
As the Earth Spirit's ancient gaze bore into Elsa, Ryder saw the full weight of the choice it was presenting settle onto her shoulders. For a long, breathless moment, she remained frozen, her eyes distant and haunted as her fingers tightened convulsively around the worn fabric of the shawl around her.
"It wants Mother's scarf."
Ryder knew that shawl. He'd seen Elsa cradle it close a few times, had watched her trace the faded diamond patterns with a silent deference that bordered on prayer. He hadn't known it had been Iduna's. Now that she'd said it, it made perfect sense, but he also apprehended what it meant about her.
In the gentle way Elsa handled it, in the far-off look she gave the twin platforms, Ryder recognized the same fierce, desperate love he felt for his own father's memory. He saw the moment that realization struck Elsa, when her eyes darted down as if to block out the awful truth. Her knuckles whitened around it, clung to it.
He didn't like that.
"She never said where she got it," she explained when she noticed him looking at her, and though her voice wavered, it did not break. "I'm guessing it was her last tie to this forest, to the person she was before she went to Arendelle." Elsa's thumb brushed over the fabric, and Ryder could almost feel the phantom sensation of each thread, each faded whorl of color. "The only piece of her life as a Northuldra that survived, that proves she lived and breathed and loved inside here..."
He expected a tear that never came. A tear he would have understood. He knew that pain.
And he really didn't like that.
"It's not all I have," she continued, her voice steadied and strengthened with each word. Her fingers smoothed over the shawl one last time, a final caress.
Slowly, with a grace as poignant as it was resolute, Elsa unwound the shawl from her shoulders. It slipped from her grasp like sand through an hourglass, pooling in her upturned palms like an offering. In the morning light it seemed almost alive.
"Elsa..." Kristoff's throat was obviously tight with how the words came out choked and thin. "Are you sure?"
She met his gaze, hurt plain in those blue eyes. But beneath that, unbreakable as a bedrock, was the same dauntless courage he'd seen when she faced Logi.
"I'm sure," she said with a soft voice, a smile slowly appearing at the edges of her mouth, small and sad and bittersweet. "My mother already gave up everything for her home." Elsa's eyes drifted to the still bodies inside the cages. "How could I hesitate?"
With that, she stepped forward to the chalice, head high. The Earth Spirit loomed on the side, but Elsa did not flinch from its overwhelming presence.
With steady hands, she lay the piece of delicate cloth across the cracked stone, the patterned fabric spilling over the edges like a cardinal river of memory.
"For my people," she declared, clear and true. "Let it be enough."
And as the shawl settled into place, the two platforms slammed together like a hammer on an anvil, startling them all. The shawl vanished in a break of light, gone in an instant while the platforms separated again. They waited, observing their surroundings in nervous anticipation.
The cages eased around their occupants, slightly expanding but not quite opening yet.
"Wait, so it's not just her?" Kristoff asked after a second.
The Earth Spirit turned its ancient gaze upon him and Ryder. Waiting. Expectant.
Ryder felt his heart skip a beat, his hand automatically gone to his father's pearl. Cold panic seized his chest.
No. Not that, anything but that...
But before he could spiral further, Kristoff moved. The man's steps were deliberate, his eyes not moving away from Anna. With trembling fingers, he reached into his coat and withdrew something that caught the dim light: a golden ring.
"Anna did say it wasn't a good idea to bring it," he said.
Elsa's eyes widened and she gasped. "Kristoff! You worked hard for that! You can't..."
"You couldn't either," he cut her off gently. "It's just a ring."
"What will Anna say?"
He managed a weak smile. "The same she'll say to you, if I know her enough. I'll let her lecture me as much as she wants. I deserve it anyway, should've listened."
Before anyone could add another word, he tossed the ring onto the gaping chalice. Like the shawl before it, the ring glistened and disappeared into light when the two platforms came together. The prison bars loosened further, twisting apart like unwinding rope, but still they remained sealed.
The spirit's two shining suns-for-eyes found Ryder, unblinking, unyielding. His fingers closed around the pearl in his pocket – his father's last gift, all he had left of the man who had understood the forest's heart.
"No," he said, voice hardening. "You can't ask this of me. Not this." The pearl was a comfort against his palm; a comfort he couldn't bear to surrender. "This is all I have left!"
The Earth Spirit roared. The ground buckled and splintered as thick pillars of stone erupted around them. One shot toward Ryder with frightening speed.
Elsa thrust her hands forward, a wall of ice materializing between Ryder and certain death. The stone pillar slammed into her barrier, shattering it into a spray of glittering shards. She dashed in and her magic pulsed with her steps, strained but determined. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured another frozen shield just in time to deflect a barrage of boulders the size of horse heads.
The spirit darted, bulky orangutan melting and reshaping into the lean, wiry body of a small macaque. It swung up into the trees, using the branches as springboards to launch a dizzying flurry of sharp spade-heads. Elsa spun, her magic dancing with her in a myriad of arcs to block the spirit's furious onslaught.
"I won't let you hurt him!" she shouted over the cacophony of cracking ice and pounding stone. Sweat beaded on her brow, but still she held her ground, more frost gathering around her. "He needs time!"
"Ryder!" Kristoff called out as another spire narrowly missed them both. He edged closer. "I get it. Trust me, I get it. Holding onto anger, it feels easier."
The spirit grunted, transforming back into a gigantic gorilla. It ripped a sapling from the ground, wielding it like a club as it charged. Soil rippled and surged beneath its feet, rock formations bursting up in violent geysers. Elsa threw up wall after wall of ice, but each one crumbled faster than the last. She cast an ice cage around the Spirit and trapped its body, only for it to morph into another minuscule monkey and slip away with wild chatters.
Ryder clutched the pearl tighter, torn between rage and despair.
"You don't understand," he forced out. "My father, he was everything. Without this, I'll lose him!"
"No, you won't. We both know you won't."
Ryder's gaze darted to where Maren lay trapped, growing paler by the second while the cage closed in on her. Beyond her, he caught a glimpse of the Arendellian children, their small bodies crumpled and still within their rocky prisons. The cages constricted further, stone grinding against stone in a sickening crunch.
Kristoff grasped Ryder's shoulder. "Decide what you want more. Your father's ghost or your sister's life."
The Spirit jumped and came crashing down in an earthshaking blow. Elsa cried out as her final ice barrier exploded into diamond dust. She dropped to one knee, gasping for breath, as wickedly sharp stone spikes erupted around her in a deadly ring. She lifted her head then, meeting Ryder's eyes through the haze of exhaustion.
"Please," she whispered, desperate.
Ryder looked at the pearl in his trembling hand, then back at Maren in her dangerously narrowing prison. His sister, who had been his shelter through every storm. Who had never once let him shoulder his burdens alone.
Her fierce protection when the other children mocked his senseless chatter with the reindeer. The pride in her eyes when he led his first successful hunt using the tracking skills she'd painstakingly taught him. Her holding him as he wept the day their father had left to ambush that Arendellian party, her own grief set aside to comfort him. The way she'd stayed up countless nights helping him master the spear forms he had begun teaching him, refusing to let his training lapse even as her own arms shook with fatigue.
Even now, seeing her trapped, his mind flashed to her stepping between him and the sparklings without hesitation, to her steady voice soothing him inside Logi's fire-torn cavern.
His father's words echoed through his mind.
Everything needs balance. That's how the forest works. That's how we work.
"I'm sorry," Ryder choked out, aiming his words at someone who could not hear them. "I'm so sorry."
The Earth Spirit now chimp leapt with a deafening howl, but Ryder darted forward and placed the pearl atop the spirit's altar, watching as the stone platforms slammed together, consuming his final tether to his father in a flash of blinding light.
The Spirit's trajectory went wide, and it landed on top of a nearby tree while the rocky cages imprisoning their group began to crumble.
Through the corner of his eye, Ryder saw Kristoff practically dive to where Anna lay. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," he kept whispering.
"Mmm... five more minutes," Anna mumbled, then her eyes flew open. "Wait, what happened? The shadow thing, and—"
"Anna!" Elsa's voice carried both relief and lingering worry as she hurried between the awakening Arendellians, checking on them with quick Are-you-okays. Her eyes swept over the soldiers and children, a trembling smile growing as each face turned toward her. "Everyone alright?"
Only when she heard their murmured confirmations did she make her way to Anna, dropping beside her sister with more haste than grace. "Thank the spirits," she breathed, wrapping her arms around her.
Not far from them, Garret was pushing himself up, grimacing as he stretched out his muscles. Elsa's head snapped up at his movement, and she reached out with one hand while keeping the other firmly around Anna. Garret caught her fingers immediately, squeezing tight as their eyes met.
But Ryder barely registered any of this. The moment he saw Maren emerging, he sprinted to her side. Before she could fully process what was happening, he pulled her into a crushing embrace, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Ry...der?" He hadn't heard her this confused in a very long time. "What are you... why are you squeezing me like I'm your hare pillow?"
Despite her words, her hand came up to pat his back.
"That's twice in two days," he muttered into her tunic. "You're doing my laundry for a month."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Maren said, pulling back just enough to study his face with concern. Her eyes widened slightly at whatever she saw there. "Ryder, are you... crying?"
He hadn't felt the tears fall. He just hugged her tighter in response, and after a moment she relaxed into the embrace, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head like she used to when he was small. "Okay, okay. A month's a deal."
Still wrapped in Maren's arms, Ryder almost jumped out of his skin when a roar shattered the clearing's tentative peace. The Earth Spirit threw back its massive head, the sound vibrating through his bones with such force he felt his teeth rattle while it rearranged its body. The transformation was mesmerizing—nothing like the crystalline changes of Elsa's ice magic, but more like watching clay reshape itself. Around him, leaves rained like autumn had decided to fast forward.
"Finallyyyyyy!"
The yawn that followed was like nothing Ryder had ever heard before. It was the sound of continental plates deciding to have a stretch, of mountains waking up. Beside him, Maren tensed but didn't seem nearly as startled as he was.
The Spirit's spine cracked with a sound that sent tremors through the earth. The princess's hand flew to her sword's hilt so fast he barely caught the movement, while Kristoff nearly tripped over his own feet. Even their seemingly unshakeable Garret tensed when Elsa helped him up, though his reaction was more controlled.
"Bridge Spirit, my butt crack!" the massive creature grumbled, apparently talking to thin air. Its current form—the gorilla—reached toward the canopy with another bone-shaking groan. "Oh, yeah, Bergrisi, you'll definitely like what I planned next. Flows of time get tingly and stars get sparkly, for when the next test comes, it shall be the testiest test to ever test their te—"
Maren's grip on his shoulder tightened when the Spirit suddenly froze mid-stretch, its now calmer eyes falling to them.
"Oh, hi there, uh... humans?"
AN:
Thank you for reading me once again you beautiful people!
If you have thoughts to share, please do!
Nothing much to say today, besides that I am happy this chapter ended up shorter than the few "new-wave" chapters (besides Oath, but that one's special). Still longer than PaT 1 chapters, but we're getting there.
Chapter 11 – Iduna's theme is Saturn, from Sleeping At Last.
As promised, a small bonus that I felt was not worthy of a full entry within the extras collection: find hereafter my and my partner's homage to Tumblr shitposts about the characters in this story, written at 11 pm after getting out of a terrible movie we needed to get our minds off of. Good humor not guaranteed.
Peace,
CalAm.
ELSA:
"Touch-averse ice queen with anxiety who processes trauma through interior design and adopts every magical creature she meets"
Built an entire ice castle to avoid feelings, architecture is her love language
Has adopted: One snowman, one fire salamander, considering one deadpan archer
"Let's talk" is scarier than fighting fire demons
Thinks lutefisk is good, which really tells you everything you need to know about her judgment
Turned "I need more time" into a two-year relationship status
Somehow both the most and least functional bi disaster in Arendelle
Will absolutely create an ice bridge to avoid confrontation
Has exactly one braincell and it's dedicated to being responsible (trying)
ANNA:
"Extroverted tornado who solved every problem in her life by either hugging it out or hitting it with a sword"
Named her sword 'Blue' because she's bad at names
Will befriend literally anyone including people actively trying to kill her
Can't have one conversation with her fiancé without questioning their entire relationship
Solutions to problems: 1) Love 2) Violence 3) Love AND Violence
Aggressively supportive or supportively aggressive, no in-between
Dumb and strong, basically the in-universe equivalent to Goku
Has exactly one braincell and it's dedicated to making Elsa groan
GARRET:
"A snarky ice-wielding himbo with PTSD who turned protecting clueless royalty into a full-time job"
Has ice powers but mainly uses them to be medieval Iron Man and make jokes
Professional bodyguard who's technically competent but also trips on every rope
A lot of issues but channels them into being everyone's emotional support knight
Will literally jump in front of fire spirits while having fire-related trauma
The only British person in Arendelle and never lets anyone forget it
Claims he's "not good at speeches" but then delivers Oscar-worthy monologues
His idea of flirting is apparently just standing around looking sad until someone notices
Has exactly one braincell and it's dedicated to making Elsa smile (and groan)
KRISTOFF:
"Mountain man who talks to reindeers and somehow became royal arm candy"
Professional ice bro who accidentally married into politics
Only person in Arendelle with actual common sense but never uses it
Tried to seduce his fiancée with a rose and ended up accidentally seducing Garret instead (he was charmed)
His best friend is a reindeer and second best friend is a snowman
Survived Anna's family drama and didn't run away because the alternative was talking rocks
Can navigate deadly terrain and fire caves but gets lost in palace corridors
Has exactly one braincell and it's dedicated to deciding how to propose
HONEYMAREN:
"Done-with-everyone's-nonsense forest ranger who keeps adopting stray Arendellians despite herself"
Professional eye-roller
"I didn't sign up to babysit royalty but here we are"
Only sane person in the entire forest
Maintains plausible deniability about actually caring
Done with magical BS but keeps getting dragged into it anyway
Tried to stab a literal fire spirit with a wooden spear (it didn't work)
Has exactly one braincell and it's dedicated to keeping Ryder alive
RYDER:
"Baby brother forest ranger with exactly zero chill"
Has strong opinions about Everything
Would die for his sister but will complain about it the whole time
"I'll throw hands with anyone who looks at my sister wrong" while simultaneously being the one who needs constant protection
Won two awards for most dramatic Northuldra – he got angry the second time
Needs an emotional support reindeer
His only personality trait is being Honeymaren's brother and he's fine with that
"I hate Arendellians... okay but this reindeer guy seems cool... BUT STILL"
Has exactly one braincell and it's for remembering how angry he is