Hate

Elsa waited for her own sniffles to die out without a single word. Her heart was coming back to its usual rhythm, making it easier for her to gradually breathe at a normal pace. She slowly lifted her hands, the stains of Garret's blood marring her fingers already starting to turn brown. With a disgusted hiccup, Elsa solidified the red liquid and let the macabre ice fall to the ground. She scooted back again with terror-filled eyes, sensing her heartrate rise up once more. Intently watching the injured man before her, she tried to calm herself down.

He would have died.

Elsa had had very little experience dealing with open wounds in her lifetime, much less an injury as severe as this one. The sheer luck that the woman who could cool things to freezing levels with her bare hands had been the one to fall with him was what had saved Garret. She heaved a sigh that would have made Anna's yawns sound like gentle whispers.

Letting her fingers run above her closed eyelids, she reasoned out loud.

"He's alive. No sense in worrying about anything else than bringing him back to the castle."

She lifted her eyes to the sky and allowed the brisk summer breeze to caress her smooth skin, her heart wringing at the thoughts of her ice castle smashed to steaming smithereens.

At least we managed to get everyone out of there.

The good news still wasn't enough to untie the knot in her chest. The purest manifestation of her liberating rush was now merely reflecting the glossy sunlight on the ground before her.

Everything about her sunk—her shoulders, her breath, everything—and she sighed again.

Elsa got up to her feet, silently wondering about how to make the journey back with an unconscious man on her arms. She neared the slumbering soldier, hugging herself closely and stroking her own arm as she evaluated her options.

There's no way I would be able to lift him alone.

Garret wasn't as enormous as Kristoff, but he still easily looked like he could weigh 175 pounds. She briefly pictured herself carrying his unmoving body over her shoulders, quickly tossing the—ridiculous—image aside. Suddenly remembering that she had ice powers, she considered constructing a makeshift sleigh.

It's not a bad idea, she told herself. I can create some frost in front of us for traction. I'll just have to make sure he's stable and doesn't dangle too much inside.

Nodding to herself, Elsa took a few steps back and waved her hand in front of her. The comforting and familiar sensation of warm tingling that crossed her arms brought a smile to the queen's face, despite the less-than-ideal situation. A bright column gently rose under Garret, lifting his unconscious body up while Elsa confectioned a sled about half the size of her future brother-in-law's brand-new speedster around him. As per usual with her creations, she was meticulous, cushioning Garret's injured side with snow so that he wouldn't be in a world of hurt should he awake.

As soon as she was done, she quickly positioned herself at the front of the icy vehicle, ready to go. However, at the exact instant she cast the first snowflakes, she perceived a soft whisper emerge from behind her, undulating in a gentle melody Elsa had never heard before.

She immediately turned around, hastily hopping off to the slowly recovering man's side. His squinting gaze was jumping here and there on her face, not really recognizing her.

"Ma?"

'Ma' lightly smiled. "No, Garret. It's me. It's Elsa."

His eyelids opened fully, letting him gradually get used to the strange sensation of progressively getting his brain functions back. He quickly blinked before bringing his tired eyes to meet hers.

"Huh… I passed out?" His voice was low, barely above a murmur.

"You did. You stayed unconscious for a few minutes there. How are you feeling?"

"Like an elephant is walking all over my back," he answered with a strained groan. "But it's not hurting that much anymore."

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. "I was worried the ice would numb everything."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm feeling things all right," he said with a wince as he straightened his position. "But this is quite the comfortable seat. I've got to thank you for taking care of that injury, your Majes—" He interrupted himself when he got a proper look at Elsa's face. "Are you… Did you cry?" he asked with furrowed brows and a concerned tone.

Does it still show?

"I… I just sat through the end of my adrenaline rush," she answered, bringing her head lower with every word. Elsa started wiping her cheeks with her wrists under Garret's sympathetic gaze.

"I'm sorry…" she heard him mutter.

"What are you apologizing for?" she asked with a small smile.

He chuckled lightly, lowering his eyes too. He let her finish cleaning her face up before speaking again. "I know that is never a pleasant time. It may not feel right on the spot, but crying is very good, it helps tremendously release the tension."

Elsa shrugged, unconvinced by the utility of falling into uncontrollable sobs at such a moment. "I am all kinds of relieved, now. Thank you, tears," she said, her voice thick with irony.

At her surprise, Garret let out one of his toothy laughs that made him look so much younger.

How come he doesn't always look like that? she wondered.

He seemed to regret his jovial outburst; he immediately brought his right hand to clutch his left side with a few coughs. "Ouch! Please, don't make me laugh… It seriously feels like my diaphragm's going to burst out."

Elsa slightly perked up with concern. "Is it?"

"No, Your Majesty. That was… Nevermind. It's fine." He stayed silent for a few instants. "Besides, I would have been a bit more worried if you hadn't cried, actually. I don't want to make assumptions, but a queen rarely has the opportunity to fall a few hundred feet just after her ice castle was bombarded off a cliff."

Elsa's heart fell at the mention of her former house of solitude. The Duke… He got to my castle. If it's personal revenge he seeks out, Arendelle's not in immediate danger, but if he has such powerful cannons at his disposal… She'd have to discuss this with everyone back home.

Garret's voice broke her out of her thoughts. "You were calm and collected, I'm honestly impressed. I very certainly owe you my life. That is some serious debt we are talking about."

Before she answered, Elsa got up to the front seat and resumed her frost making, prompting the sleigh to gently start drifting away.

"We rather owe that to the fact you knew exactly what to do. I wouldn't have been that effective had I been constrained to improvise on the spot," she corrected with a stoic look, but not without a slight flush on her face. Her eyes were now focused on the track ahead.

"You are selling yourself short."

"Maybe I am… But now that I think about it, I thought soldiers didn't receive more than the basic first-aid gestures? Or was it a knight's privilege?" Elsa was mostly talking to herself at that point.

"Your Majesty," he called with a lifted eyebrow. "You're really making this 'knight' thing into something a lot larger than it actually is. In the Order of the Bath, knights are ranked. At my level they're basically soldiers with a fancy title. We're handed a token, a kiss on each shoulder from a sword, and we're waved goodbye for practically ever with Her Majesty's most esteemed gratitude as our only prize to bring home."

Then… It doesn't make sense, does it?

Ignoring the timing, Elsa still inquired further. "So, how did you know how to treat the wound?" she asked.

The answer to her own question seemed to pop into her head as soon as she pronounced it.

Garret's dejected voice responded before she could say anything. "Let's call it… work experience."

The memory of his frozen prosthesis pictured itself in her mind. Elsa glanced back at her passenger, seeing—as expected—that his gaze was fixated on his left leg. The luminous laugh had disappeared, replaced by the usual tired look.

"I'm sorry," she uttered.

He threw a smile at her, but Elsa could clearly see it was a lot less ecstatic than the previous one. "What are you apologizing for?"

She turned around and responded with a slight shrug. "I don't know. It felt… wrong, not to do it."

"Well, it wasn't your fault, innit? It was my own."

A heavy silence followed.

Elsa had never been a people person. She loved her country, her subjects, her family; but she really never had to spend extended periods of time with strangers. She never tried to get to know anybody outside of her strongly established circle; reclusion tended to mess with that ability. Elsa was happy with things as they were, but, during the course of the last year, Anna had made it one of her missions to get her sister to progressively open up at least a tiny bit to those who weren't herself, Olaf or Kristoff, and it had somewhat worked. Giving a speech like she had done the day before would have been impossible for Great Thaw Elsa. One of her first lessons had been that lending an ear was the basis of establishing a connection. To her surprise, even when they were not in her court, Arendelle's citizens were more than happy to share everything they knew with her. She still had a lot of work to do on that aspect and others, yet this was another opportunity to help someone by the simple act of listening.

Nonetheless, offering it for the people she saw every day was a thing. This was something else entirely.

He helped me save Anna. Twice. What's the harm? she reassured herself.

Elsa uneasily shifted on her spot, lightly coughing into her knuckle. "Do you…?" she whispered.

"I didn't quite catch that, Your Majesty."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she repeated, louder.

For a little while, the screeching of the sleigh's skates and the crisp howl of the wind were the only sounds that reached Elsa's eardrums. Her heart started beating imperceptibly faster.

"I really appreciate the offer, Your Majesty. But that won't be necessary," Garret finally said.

A singular heat crept down her chest with an uncomfortable weight. Disappointment. Elsa was surprised she felt that. Then again, this was the first time anyone had declined her invitation to talk.

She tried not to show it through her voice. "As… as you wish."

A few minutes of voiceless riding later, Elsa heard a rumbling sound coming from the sleigh's sides. Throwing a quick glance to the verdant woods around her, she saw nothing. While familiar, she couldn't really pinpoint where she knew it from.

"Umm, Your Majesty?" an anxious Garret called from behind. "Please tell me you can secretly bend earth too."

Not understanding the remark, Elsa turned to face him, only for her to notice huge grassy rocks rolling in their trail.

"Trolls! What are they doing here?" she exclaimed.

"Trolls?" Garret repeated with a dumbfounded expression.

Anna had talked about them and Elsa vividly remembered meeting them herself the fated day she had hurt her sister for the first time. She stopped the sleigh, the trolls twirling around to their humanoid form in front of her.

"Your Majesty, Elsa," the heavy creatures said in unison, bowing before her. She returned the gesture. "Gran Pabbie felt an uncomfortable disturbance in your powers and sent us to escort you to the Valley of the Living Rock."

Garret's eyes were as wide as when he had discovered the ice castle. "Of all the… Talking rocks, now?"

Elsa squared her shoulders and clasped her hands before her, surprise clear on her features. The trolls never reached out—what had changed?

"Why does he want me now?"

"He thinks you're in danger. Bad men are patrolling around Arendelle. They are looking for you," one of the trolls answered.

Elsa's thoughts immediately flew to her sister. "What about Anna and Kristoff? They were still at the castle!"

"Some of us were sent to them instead. They should be in Arendelle by now. They were told that you are alive and well." He gave a quick glance inside the sleigh. "For the most part…"

Elsa's heaved a heavy sigh, her shoulders slightly falling. Her mind was somewhat eased for the time being.

Another troll spoke. "We will offer you shelter while the men search these woods. In time, Arendelle's Guard will drive them away, but since they didn't find you…"

"They'll think I did not perish at the castle and continue looking for me…" Elsa finished.

That… holds up. But, Garret...

"Gran Pabbie can also help heal the weird-looking Kristoff you have here," a younger one added while pointing to the man as if reading Elsa's thoughts.

Garret puffed. "And they're trash-talking…"

Elsa faced him once again with a contained giggle. "Shall we, Garret?" she asked, somehow already knowing his answer.

The former soldier rapidly blinked. "I'm going to trust you again on this one, Your Majesty," he said, eliciting an appreciative nod.

"Let's go, then."

The voyage was quick; with the trolls rolling before it, nothing came to hinder the sleigh's trajectory. The swift trip allowed Elsa to calmly sit back, thinking to herself as she quietly recalled the events of the last hour. Quickly skimming through her exchange with the injured soldier behind her, there had been something different than usual.

Why didn't he want to talk?

She would normally just sit tight and listen. But not this time.

There had been something odd about Garret. Something Elsa hadn't admitted to Anna. She'd felt… comfortable around him, even after all that happened. The fleeting complicity they shared the day she had learned he was like her she attributed to the joy that had surged through her at the news that she wasn't alone. Elsa had stuck to a proud and solemn behavior with him the very day after. Except for his mastery of the bow and his seemingly obnoxious tendency to stick his nose wherever he could—and well, the obvious ice magic—the man had seemed unspectacular. Nevertheless, she realized that for the moments she spent with him, she hadn't really been the Snow Queen of Arendelle.

Much like with Kristoff, Anna and Olaf, she had simply been Elsa—whoever that was—in everything but in how he called her. It felt like he had been in Arendelle for more than just a few days.

Was it the way he talked? His honest laugh? Much like Anna herself, he had been approachable.

The irony of a queen thinking a commoner approachable drew a short sigh out of her lungs. She needed to work on her social skills.

A peculiar thought occurred to her.

I still have to ask him why he came to the kingdom in the first place.

A voice boomed before the grand pass that had suddenly appeared in her line of sight. "Gran Pabbie! They're here!"

They had reached the trolls' rocky and uneven grounds in no time.

The thousand-years old Gran Pabbie gently rolled out of his cavern, turning back into his elderly body when he reached the entrance of his Valley, where Elsa stood next to her crystal-clear sleigh. Her eyes were low, her hair slightly disheveled and her dress was stained here and there. She must have looked tired.

"Welcome, Queen Elsa. I felt your fear manifest when you cloaked yourself. I am very sorry for what happened," he greeted, his face visibly sad. "I also thought you'd like to know Princess Anna and Kristoff, as well as the men accompanying them, reached Arendelle Castle safely."

"I thank you… I'm sorry, when I cloaked myself?" she questioningly responded, not really seeing what he was talking about.

"Yes, although now that you are closer, I am having this strange feeling that you are projecting some of your powers over there…" Gran Pabbie said while looking toward the pass that marked the entry point to his territory, his eye twitching as if he had just eaten a particularly spicy pickle.

The finely tuned gears in Elsa's head quickly pieced together what the sage troll was referring to. "Oh! That would be Garret!" She brought the sleigh closer to her with a quick motion, letting him have a peek at the laying person inside. "He arrived in Arendelle a few days ago. He can bend ice to his will, just like I do."

Garret waved, his already faint voice uneasy. "Hello?"

Gran Pabbie's features stiffened with a noise akin to a pebble hitting the ground while his eyebrows shot to the sky. He took a long look at the injured man. "There's another one?"

"Yes, and he needs medical attention. He suffered a terrible wound and I'm afraid I won't be able to reach Arendelle in time. Could you please help him?" Elsa asked with a pleading tone.

Releasing a sigh, Gran Pabbie nodded and signaled to a few trolls behind him to come closer. The ones who answered the call rushed at his side, gently lifting Garret from his iced mattress.

"I will try. Though I am most proficient with magical wounds, I'll see what I can do." Gran Pabbie strode forward, examining the man's red-stained back. "Hmmm, this is indeed very severe. You lost a substantial amount of blood…" Garret closed his eyes with a crestfallen wince, while Elsa clenched her palms together behind her and bit her lip in worry. "… but fortunately for you, young man, no important organ was hit. I can help mend it, but it won't completely heal on the spot. And you will still require extensive rest for a few weeks."

Leaving the two children of ice to look at each other with relieved breaths escaping their lungs, the sage brought his hand to the injury and started working his healing magic on the wound, focusing his entire being on his task as a brilliant yellow light emerged from his fingertips and seeped into Garret's back.

"I am lucky, aren't I?" Garret said to no one in particular as he began dozing off.

Elsa lightly shrugged in response. Her small smile was indicating enough, she hoped.

"I'm… definitely, feeling better…" the soldier said, his sentence interrupted by a long yawn. He closed his eyes another time, his deep breaths showing he had let a comfortable slumber take him into its embrace.

Gran Pabbie made a few steps back. "It is done. This takes a non-negligible toll on his body, so I took the liberty of conjuring a sleeping spell on him. He needs all the rest he can get," he solemnly announced.

Elsa tilted her head forward with a thankful smile. "That was a good idea." The troll nodded, but Elsa could detect a slight tinge of anxiousness in his gaze, similarly to the day he had explained how her powers could hurt her. "Is everything okay?" she asked sincerely.

The elder troll slowly stroked his chin while looking down. "I… Maybe we should speak, my child," he answered with an enigmatic frown. He gave a sharp nod toward the deep end of the sacred grounds, prompting her to follow him to his quarters. She turned an anxious gaze to the sleeping man at her feet.

"He'll be fine; they'll take care of him."

An enthusiastic "Yeah!" echoed in the Valley.

Nodding in understanding, Elsa stepped behind Gran Pabbie. Once the entrance to his cavern reached, she stopped with a quizzical expression.

How am I going to go through something like that?

The opening in the rock was suited for a troll—which meant that even a human child would have trouble getting past. Gran Pabbie simply waved his hands, the rocks rearranging on their own to grant the taller human safe passage through. Slightly chuckling, Elsa stepped in—she still had to duck to avoid hitting her head on the wet surface. Her smile immediately disappeared once her eyes got used to the dim fire that gently blazed within. She couldn't prevent her lower jaw from falling.

The cavern was nothing like what she had expected. In fact, even the word cavern wasn't paying what she was seeing justice. Cultivated garden would have been more appropriate.

The plants were large—the water they required surely would have kept all of Arendelle's needs satisfied for a few months. Still, they were marvelous. Instead of mundane browns and white, the intricate and beautiful patterns were of deeper, more vibrant colors—shades of red, orange, and yellow, with the colors concentrated in their leaves. The air felt cool, and the rustling of the branch coupled with the fire's crackle was soothing.

Gran Pabbie interrupted her silent awe. He was sitting near what looked like a jagged and stony desk. "Elsa, I would like to discuss a serious matter with you."

Closing her mouth, she sat down on her knees not far from him. "Please do."

"You are aware that I am able to see and manipulate memories…" She nodded at that. "Well, it is a direct consequence of my innate sensitivity to magic. It is not something I can control at my leisure when I use other forms of that magic. Sometimes, when I'm healing someone, for example, I get little snippets of that particular being's memories." He was looking at Elsa with a grave expression.

She caught the dropped hints. "Did you…? When you stitched his wound?"

"I didn't stitch it, per se, but you would be correct. It is especially striking when the being in question is capable of magic feats itself. In fact, in that case, it is as if I was there, living their memories with them. And it usually happens to be the more vivid parts of their life experience."

Elsa remembered the episode that had puzzled her back in her ice castle. "I think I experienced something very similar to that, today," she confessed. "I promised to teach Garret how to better control his powers, and when I grabbed an arrow he had created, I was… transported somewhere I didn't recognize." She paused before continuing. "Was I…?"

Gran Pabbie nodded sadly. "Indeed, my child. Though your situation isn't exactly the same—your experience was the fruit of your powers interacting with his. You see, water has a memory. It was before me, it will still be after all of us. It watches everything, stores what it deems worthy. That arrow must have been charged with his emotions. Your magic does the same thing. To keep it simple, you tapped into the memories of the water he used to create it."

Elsa brought her hands in front of her mouth. "The pyre, the woods, the village… Those were his memories?" she wondered aloud, as the horrifying smell, insufferable heat and animalistic grunt slithered their way back into her mind.

Gran Pabbie somberly acquiesced once again. "I can only affirm you and I have simply caught a glimpse. However, child: I have to warn you. What I saw was not a hefty grasp of what he had to live through either… but I could get a significant sense of the different emotions he endured. He has gone through horrible things, that is for sure. I sensed grief, sadness and sorrow plenty. I also managed to discern happiness, pride, and love." He took an inspiration, looking Elsa in the eye. "Yet, I perceived darker feelings. Rage, anger, bloodlust. He has also done things as horrible as those inflicted on him, if not more so."

Elsa's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid he is red with blood not his own."

Elsa's already pale face dropped its color even more. She shook her head. "He… he told me he was a soldier…" She hadn't even thought to associate his time in the army with the idea that he maybe had had to kill someone, somewhere, sometime. "He seems so… incapable of doing that."

"How would you know? More importantly, a soldier doesn't feel joy nor relief when facing death." The sage troll took another long breath. "Here is what concerns me the most. I can understand shame and guilt in someone. Those are natural emotions. The problem with your companion is that they are the last bits of emotion that shone within him, with only faint specks of anything else like laughter and fear scattered here and there. He is otherwise mostly numb to everything. Only one other has overshadowed them."

Elsa didn't know whether she wanted to know. She still asked. "Which one is it?"

Gran Pabbie sighed, his discovery visibly saddening to him. "Hate."

Elsa lifted her eyebrows. In the last days, she certainly didn't see him being hateful toward anyone. "Hate? Who does he hate?"

Maybe Einar? But Einar did nothing wrong… and they barely spoke. He isn't a moody child… Is he?

Gran Pabbie sighed once again. "This man hates himself."

Elsa's heart fell together with her hands. "Himself? Why?"

"That I cannot say. And it is unfortunately impossible for us to know unless he decides to open that part of him to us. Now, I do not know why or how, but he may not be who he shows himself to be. The memories we saw were morphed through the prism of how we see the world. His vision might be radically different. In the end, I still cannot say who he is at his core, and that is why I have to tell you to watch out. His veritable persona can very well be a ruthless warmonger for all we know. And that's who he might resent so much. Or he despises the mask he has to wear… Only he can answer that."

Elsa quickly glanced toward the cavern's entrance. "He doesn't show any of it."

"You didn't either," Gran Pabbie said with a sad smile. That sentence felt like a stab through the heart with a red-hot knife. "People can get quite adept at hiding who they really are," he added, his eyes empty as he recalled the worst advice he'd ever given.

Trying the best she could to keep the pictures of her isolated upbringing in the darkest parts of her mind, Elsa lowered her gaze.

He hates himself… and I told him his powers were a part of him as they were of me. No wonder he suppresses them, she thought, remembering the conclusion she had reached earlier in the afternoon.

"He's exactly like I was a year ago."

"That may not be entirely true…" Gran Pabbie's voice called her back to reality. She turned to face him. "There is still another singular aspect to this man I wish to disclose." Noticing the curious frown that appeared on Elsa's face, the chief troll continued, the yellow crystals on his garment dangling with the flow of his green cape. "His powers are of a different essence than yours. They both ultimately function in a similar fashion, because there aren't that many ways to create ice, but his are of a peculiar origin."

Elsa's thirst for knowledge abruptly spiked. "How different can they be?"

"Your powers were a gift, Elsa. You were born with them. That is the reason your hair and your complexion are as they are. His powers, on the other hand, were bestowed upon him much later."

Elsa sharply inhaled. How did I not even notice that?

"I assume he is far from being as efficient as you are with them?"

"That… seems to be the case."

"It is understandable. Just like knowledge, the later it is learned, the more difficult it becomes to master."

Elsa sat in silent contemplation, slowly letting the entire conversation sink in.

A loud call interrupted her thoughts, its melodious yet restless echo reaching her in the cavern. "Elsaaaa!"

She got up to her feet in a hurry, sprinting out of the lush interior garden to see her sister and Kristoff standing near Garret's laying silhouette with hanged cheeks and pursed lips, worry clear on their faces' traits. An entire contingent of Arendelle's guards was behind them, still led by Einar.

"Anna!"

The princess's eyes filled with tears the moment she caught sight of Elsa. Opening her arms wide, she let the queen's small frame crash into her with a happy sob. Kristoff joined their embrace shortly after, bringing his arms around the two siblings. They stayed locked together for a while.

"I swear to whatever's holy out there… don't you dare do that to me again…" Anna whispered, stepping back to take a long look at Elsa's face. She hiccupped again, wiping her sister's face with her thumbs. "'I'll be right back'… Geez…"

Elsa embarrassedly blushed and laughed. "That was… the heat of the moment."

Catching a glimpse of the body on the ground brought Anna back to the immediate problem. "But what's the matter with Garret?" she tensely asked.

"He was seriously injured during the fall," Elsa answered, her heart sinking to her stomach. "He's not in immediate danger but we still have to bring him to the castle. He needs rest, and I need to speak with Jürden," she added with a determined glint in her eyes.

Anna and Kristoff exchanged a quick look and sharply nodded. "Let's go," they vigorously asserted.

A.N. Hope you enjoyed this one!

I kept a weekly update schedule until now, but I think I'll start posting chapters every second week, always on Saturdays. I'll also tone down the ANs to keep the story's flow as intact as possible.

See you next time,

CalAm.