Unknown
"Atchoooo!"
"Bless you."
"Thanks. Oh, the dust out here. Even the attic wasn't as dusty. Oh dear, here's another one. A-a-a-aaaaatchooo!"
"Bless you," Elsa said with a chuckle.
That was a strong one, she thought. Wonder if she has allergies?
She closed the door behind her, waving her hand before her face to send away the tiny particles that whirled about. The cellar wasn't the area of the castle that saw the most traffic, and it showed. The chamber's heavy atmosphere smelled like the musty harbor fish hangar, the one that had been left abandoned for a whole year—with the fish still inside.
Anna stopped before her and used her three mounted candles to explore the immediate vicinity.
"This is where they keep Father and Mother's stuff, huh?"
In front of them lay a large room filled to the brim with trinkets of no great interest for the most part. Open oak boxes the wood of which was starting to chip away on the right, a mannequin missing both arms and its head on the left, old decrepit cupboards that seemed to melt against the stones of the floor and walls... Even the cobwebs hanging at their corners seemed fossilized, deserted by spiders who had either left or starved to death.
But at the far back was a collection as motley as it was nostalgic.
Their mother's dresses and their father's suits were stored here and there in a myriad of boxes, around ceremonial swords and hats their mother had always known how to choose. The echo of their voices swerved past her ears, as if seeing their garments awakened the ghosts of their long-lost parents.
This wasn't Elsa's favorite room. Not by a long shot.
She had only entered it once before—the memories associated with most of the objects still hurt, even if the objects themselves didn't hold much value to her heart. This second time was only a product of her sister's excitement.
Anna did not seem to share her relative dislike for their surroundings: looking for the slightest trace of their mother's wedding dress was a task that had been obsessing her since the night before, when they had stumbled upon their marriage portrait.
"You're sure we can find it here?" Elsa asked, slightly stirring the oil lamp in her hand to light the eastern corner and allow her eyes to decipher an old statue's inscribing that looked like it dated back to her grandfather's reign.
"I am…" Anna answered with a grunt; the worn-out box she had lifted to the counter near the entrance looked heavy. "…positive," she finished as the wooden square fell on the stony post. The already fragile planks fractured at the contact and sliced open on their own, spilling their content before Anna's amused eyes. "Well, that saves me the trouble of getting a crowbar."
"You open boxes with a crowbar?"
"Only when I don't have my sword at hand."
"You are not carrying that thing around the castle, Anna. Not when you insist on drawing it every five seconds and cutting cake with it. You and your swords…"
Anna whirled around and lifted a disapproving finger. "My sword, thank you very much. Blue is the only one for me."
"Still can't believe you gave it a name."
Anna had become, over the past two years, a formidable swordswoman. Einar had supervised her entire training and admitted that she was starting to give his best men a fair amount of trouble. Even Garret refused to spar with her now, since he wasn't allowed to use his bow.
Elsa had taken the opportunity offered by her 21st birthday—and Garret stealthily suggesting the idea—to commission her own personal sword.
The Damascus steel had been hard to find and expensive to buy, but the look of pure awe that had shone on Anna's features as her eyes ran the length of the waving teardrop-shaped patterns on the blade and the finely crafted stratified copper handle with its vividly azure ice crystals had been worth all the trouble.
Even Kristoff had been dazed by the magnificent weapon and accepted defeat in front of Elsa's smug look. This birthday had been her victory—not that it was a competition or anything.
"It's ma sword. I would sleep next to it if I could."
"Please, don't do that."
"I'm joking. You know I wouldn't. Kristoff takes up all the space anyway." Anna then started rummaging through the old rags and tattered tissues, throwing whatever wasn't a shiny white-and-blue tangle of crocus-flowered fabric over her shoulder without a second glance.
"You're sure you want to look like Mother for your wedding?"
"For the seventh time, Elsa, yes I want to. Or at least try to. Obviously not gonna wear the exact same dress, you know, just looking for some inspiration! Enough to give the tailor some ideas for the next weeks." She exhausted the first box's content and slumped her shoulders in disappointment. "Wrong one. Gonna try another. Can you look at that one while I'm at it? Please?"
She never could refuse anything when Anna did that thing with her nose. "The one against the wall?"
"Yup! Thanks, sis'."
Elsa delicately hung the oil lamp on a perch and kneeled near the coffer. This one was larger than the others. Its gilded corners gleamed in the faint light; their underlying brass having kept its original shine a small miracle in the general air's mustiness. The lock was still impeccably preserved, which meant that it had been placed there long after their parent's wedding.
Kai had assured her almost nobody had accessed this particular room ever since their boat was lost. Only her parents could have placed it there.
She tried to lift it, applying the counsel both Anna and Garret had given her; back straight, knees bent. But despite her best efforts, the coffer proved too heavy still. It almost seemed like it was glued to the ground. Their father loved his tinkering, maybe this was another of his wacky inventions?
Intrigued, Elsa grazed the wood with her fingers and ran them along the dulled surface. She suppressed a small cry when her hand sank inside a small gap with a quick click. The sound of rock sliding across rock drew her attention above her, where an opening that wasn't there a minute ago now was. Inside that opening, a lever. No indication as to what it did, what it opened, what it closed, or even if it moved at all.
"You okay there?" Anna's voice asked from behind; Elsa almost missed it.
"Yes. Um, come here for a minute, please."
Anna practically skipped at her side and abruptly stopped when the lever caught her eye. "What does it do?"
"I don't know."
"Won't ever unless we pull."
"Wait, Ann—"
Before Elsa could say anything about it, Anna's hand had already darted and lowered the mechanism. A metallic rumbling sprang from inside the wall; gears and cogs turned and twisted from the other side. Which meant that there was another side.
"You can't pull random levers like that, Anna… There may be traps, or contingencies to dissuade intruders."
"You read too many books, sis'. This is our own castle; I don't think anyone would put traps against us."
"Yes, but you're never…"
A portion of the wall before them cracked and bolted a few inches forward, startling them both. The dust above it raced away as it glided to the side, opening a passage large enough to let the two sisters pass.
"…too sure."
Elsa took the candles and held them at arm's length, trying to discern anything with worried eyes, while Anna obviously couldn't repress a loud Woooow. They took a simultaneous step inside.
"Look at all this," Elsa said as she swept the glow of her light all around.
Anna's mouth was wide open in aghast wonder. "I'm looking."
This was a secret room they had never heard about.
A collection of old and grimy bookshelves supporting older and grimier books circled around, casting a faint shadow over a marble table against the farthest wall, one single open volume over it. In the corner stood another bookshelf, completely full too, right next to an ashen chimney above which was dug an enormous hole containing dusty unlabeled flasks and old empty vials that seemed cast out of one of her own fantasy books. The ground was a messy mix of crumpled paper, coaly specks and stubborn mold.
"This is Father's old cane," Anna realized aloud, her finger tracing the length of the trusty wooden shaft hanging next to the door that only then Elsa noticed.
She lightly dropped the candles on the table at the center; Anna pressed forward and went to examine the furthest corners while trailing her gaze left and right, leaving Elsa to contemplate the series of innumerable grimoires at her side.
Where did they find all this? she thought.
Everything looked old. Judging by the creased yellowing of the pages, some of the volumes were most probably a few decades—if not outright a couple of centuries—old.
"These aren't books we can find in the library," Elsa said, her attention jumping from a title to its neighbor, not recognizing a single word. There was one book that raised her curiosity and drained her extremities of their blood. "Magical Arts: Dangers of Dark Magic? Father was studying magic?" she voiced her internal interrogations aloud, having trouble to believe he would have hidden his own work from her.
She turned to Anna; she was studying another coffer on the other side of the room and uttered a faint Oh Elsa barely managed to hear. Before she could call her however, she perceived the glint of a quill and a feather on that same marble table. The giant open book had hidden them; the table reached deeper than she'd thought.
Behind that book was another one whose cover was a lot thicker, sealed shut by a leather belt that went around its full width as if muzzling forbidden knowledge. Elsa unbuckled its simple prong away from its tip and opened it. The muffled gasp that went past her lips had been too fast for her to suppress—not that it was her priority.
On the page were multiple drawings etched on the paper with a careful pen along with scriptures in English and in a language she couldn't read; in a small aside at the end of the text, the author referred to this unknown writing as Northeldrian. The sketch on the right page represented what she clearly recognized was her younger self's profile with what could only be the glittering traces of her magic emerging from her open hands. On the left were her gloves, and a captioned human hand over which purple shapes and bluish forms twirled and merged in an imprecise dance of colors.
"He was studying me, too?"
Anna's reaction was instantaneous. "Wait, what?"
Now, she had her attention. Elsa turned around and took a few steps, her eyes not leaving the mysterious writings.
"This is some sort of journal…" she explained. "I can find no record of a human with powers like hers but for the ancient myths, with their tragic fates. Well, Garret proves this sentence both wrong and right, I guess…"
"Wait a minute." Anna's voice was close to her ear; she was looking over Elsa's shoulder now, wearing a strange scarf over hers.
"What is that?"
Anna pointed toward the open coffer a few feet away. "I found it there. It's Mother's scarf, but with these strange diamond-shaped thingies on it. Speaking of Mother," she continued while lifting the journal in her direction. "This is not Father's handwriting, it's hers."
"The next pages are in English, but there's also, Northeldrian?"
"Northeldrian? Isn't that a forbidden language ever since the war? How could she know it? Or… even dare use it?"
Elsa shrugged in shared confusion. "Maybe it has to do with what they saw up North?"
"We have to look into the Last Arendellian War," they exclaimed at the same time.
Elsa then turned back to the English part. One paragraph was strange, structured like a poem. She started reading.
"Whatever ev—" The word was hard to decipher. "Evil, my people did…"
Anna picked up where she stopped. "Whatever evil my people suffered…"
"Whatever darkness still roams the forest…"
"I can no longer turn my back on my past."
"He already knows."
"We have to find it."
"I have to find Ahtohallan," Elsa finished.
As soon as she did, a shiver ran through her entire body as wickedly as frost creeping down a window. It was the first time she'd ever seen that name, but it had a familiar ring.
And then she heard it.
A distant, crystalline chant. A voice that seemed so far yet so intimate. A feminine voice.
Elsa's back straightened like an armed spring and she shuddered harder than ever before; she threw frantic looks around her, charging magic inside her hands.
"You all right, Elsa?" Anna asked in evident worry.
"You hear that?"
"Hear what?"
She came to the realization while gazing upon the interrogative pout her sister was displaying.
She's not hearing it.
"I think…"
No need to make her worry more than necessary for now. Maybe Garret will know more?
"Nevermind."
Anna narrowed her eyes at her for a second but eventually shrugged the bizarre interlude off.
The sisters exchanged one glance and understood each other.
"We can start at the library."
Again, they had spoken in perfect sync.
Garret loosened his spaulders and released a sigh while stepping inside the room. The red and gold tapestries on the walls and the lazy yet vibrant light tracing and diffracting from the chandelier above coupled with the stormy weather made for a warm and cozy atmosphere. He could finally relax.
There was one strange detail, however. Kristoff was the only one already inside, sitting on the sofa with legs crossed and a scowl while his hand negligently stroked Sven's fur. Olaf was on the latter's back, as per custom now, striking up conversations that sounded very much one-sided.
Weird, Garret thought. He usually was the last one to arrive at their game nights—Anna and Elsa were sticklers for punctuality.
"The girls aren't here yet?" he asked as he sat on the sofa's edge.
Kristoff's head whirled to him as if he hadn't heard him open the door. Or walk inside with his heavy boots. Or groan while unfastening his vest's belt.
"Oh, G! No, they're not here. I was waiting for you to go fetch them."
"I think you could have done that without me."
"That was the plan," Kristoff confirmed as he stood. "Leave and let you find this room empty."
"Fair point. You know where they are?"
"Yes, sir. Gimme a minute. Make yourself comfortable. Don't try to conscript Sven."
Garret slumped on the couch with a fake disappointed grunt. "Aww. We just needed a combat reindeer. We were going to attach rifles to his antlers."
Sven arched slightly on his now stiffened legs and gave a troubled look to his master and friend just after a worried whinny.
Kristoff rolled his eyes. "He's kidding."
He opened the door and winked at his lifelong companion before leaving.
"Mostly kidding," Garret added stealthily. He made a point to turn his head as slowly as possible in Sven's direction before raising his eyebrows repeatedly.
The reindeer responded with an annoyed breath from his nostrils that ruffled Garret's hair in all the wrong directions.
"Hah. Love you too."
Olaf dropped to the ground. "That's not what he said."
"Oh, really?"
"I'm sure."
"Care to enlighten me?"
"I don't speak reindeer as good as Kristoff and I don't know exactly what he meant, but that sounded more like 'scre—"
The door smashed open, a minuscule foot the only thing visible where it stood closed a second before. Kristoff made his way around it and sat next to Garret with a tired but still amused smile.
"Okay, I'm ready to destroy a few arrogant ones," Anna boomed on her way in. Her foot stomped on the ground and she jabbed a finger at Garret, Kristoff and Olaf. "Today, the girls win."
"Come here and show me, fire-head," Garret shot back.
A wicked predatory smirk spread across her face. "Oh, you are so on."
Elsa followed inside right after. Her eyes trailed after her sister, but they appeared strangely hollow to Garret.
"Everything okay, Your Majesty?" he said.
She looked like she had just stopped daydreaming. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Everything's fine."
Garret stood behind the couch to let the family have enough space. He kept checking on Elsa every now and then; to be so expressionless usually indicated that something was going on inside her head. The way she held onto that poor purple cushion as if it was a lifebelt was another dead giveaway.
"All right, today is charades day," Anna started with her characteristic enthusiasm. "Boys versus girls, best out of five. Elsa, you're up."
Her gaze snapped up. "Wait, I'm starting?"
"Yup! We're gonna show'em. Let's do this, you and me. Same spirit, same mind."
After a resigned sigh, Elsa made for the small oval carpet that served as a makeshift stage. Sven trotted closer, handed her the word she had to act out and gently grabbed the pillow away from her hands.
"Thank you," Elsa muttered in that delicate voice of hers. She opened the paper, read its content and lightly bent down to drop it on the ground like a fragile flower.
The slight frown and wince that appeared on her visage told Garret everything he needed to know.
It's got to be something that has to do with one of us. She looks at Kristoff, it's 'reindeer'. She looks at Anna, it's either 'sword' or 'love'. She looks at me…
Garret immediately repressed a chuckle when Elsa's eyes flew to him then snapped to the ground in panic.
…it's 'ice'.
A second before the game's start, someone knocked.
"Lieutenant?" a muffled voice called through.
Someone wanted him? At that hour?
"Excuse me," he said before striding toward the—very ill-timed—call. He opened the door and was met by his direct subordinate's salute. "Argod? What are you doing here?"
The poor boy shifted on his feet. He didn't want to be here either. "Sorry to disturb you this late, sir. Counselor Sorenson asked me to bring you to him."
"What does Einar want with me?"
"He didn't say. But he's in a meeting with Captain Karel down in the barracks. It looked important."
Garret released a heavy sigh. "All right, I'll be there immediately. No need to wait for me. Thank you for the message. You're dismissed."
Argod saluted once more and walked away as quickly as his short legs allowed.
"Sorry, have to leave," Garret announced while reattaching his spaulders. "Work. Don't wait for me."
"You're just using an excuse because you know you're gonna take a beating," Anna deadpanned.
"Kristoff?"
"Yup?"
"You know your priorities."
"Yes, sir."
Anna narrowed her eyes at her man. "You're choosing to win a game over your fiancée?"
"That—We're… We'll see," he stammered.
Garret checked on Elsa one last time before leaving—she wasn't even looking at him; her gaze lingered on the window, far beyond reality itself. He would ask her what had her so distracted later on.
He hurried down the stairs, making sure his uniform was impeccable on the way. The buildings around the barracks were as quiet as death. The only light he perceived came from the multitask room where they held most of their meetings. Garret pushed the door open.
Einar Sorenson and Ingrid Karel were hunched over a map, a messy collection of letters and pins scattered around Arendelle and its northern neighbors. Garret saluted sharply.
"Captain, Counselor."
They both turned to him.
"Ah, Lieutenant. Thank you for coming on such short notice," Einar said.
The dim lighting around highlighted the graying of his hair more than usual—the salt was gaining some territory over the pepper. The last couple of years hadn't been kind to his appearance, especially for someone who was still an entire decade younger than Garret's father, but he still maintained an impressive physical form though the responsibilities that came with the advisor position hadn't helped.
The much younger Captain was another story—her blond hair shone like fire in the room's relatively morose ambiance. Garret still wondered how she managed to fit it all in a single ponytail. She had the smallest frame out of all the Guard—he wasn't even sure whether she weighed heavier than Elsa or not—yet she was its most respected officer.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. This'll be quick, but we have worrying news."
"Or rather, no news at all."
Ingrid nodded. "Precisely. Our forward scout camps posted North went silent."
Garret strode closer to the table to examine which camps she was talking about. "The weekly report didn't come?"
"For three weeks now. I sent another messenger just in case. They were supposed to come back today. No word from them either."
Einar crossed his arms. "These camps surveil the northern border with the Red Forest. The last reports were already giving weird signs. Mentions of booming sounds and trembling grounds, along with a giant cloud of mist covering the woods."
"Cannons?"
"We don't know for sure."
"That doesn't sound very reassuring. How many men are there?"
"Six," Ingrid answered. "Lieutenant, trouble stirring there is a big deal. Last time Arendelle marched into that forest, we lost every single soldier we sent…"
"…and we'd rather avoid reigniting a war up there."
Garret had read about the most crushing defeat Arendelle ever suffered—so crushing that nobody had dared set foot inside that forest again since. The higher-ups usually never shared much detail on operations that didn't relate directly to his, especially for something so sensitive, but they had personally called for him. They needed something done.
He straightened his back and clasped his hands together. "Understood. What are the directives?"
Ingrid's dark eyes widened. "We didn't even…" she started.
Einar interrupted her with a chuckle. "This is not a mandatory mission, Carter. It's not your job to do this."
"That just means you need my skills, not my rank."
The Counselor and the Captain shared one glance and a nod before turning back to him.
"I'm personally going up there," Ingrid explained. "I'd appreciate help for something so delicate. And you're the member of the Guard who's had the most experience dealing with explosive weaponry. It may be nothing, but I'd rather go prepared."
Garret scoffed at his own memories from those times. "It was more try not to die from it than deal with it, but I see your point, ma'am. When do we depart?"
Ingrid's tense shoulders relaxed, and her expression softened. "Probably not before a few days. I'll keep you posted."
"Very well. That all you needed me for?"
Einar nodded. "That's all, Lieutenant. You're dismissed."
After one last salute, Garret exited the conference room, left the barracks and made his way back up to the game.
Field reconnaissance… And here I thought I'd never have to do it again.
The scout situation would definitely keep his mind occupied for the next days, but for now, he needed to know what was bugging Elsa so much—and also whether his prediction had been true.
Opening the door to the chamber, he was surprised to only see Kristoff, sitting inside with a rose across his mouth and what he assumed was his most seductive smolder pointed in his direction. The curious then mortified flashes that surged through his face were almost too much for Garret not to burst into laughter.
He managed to calm the spasms and snickers early enough. "First, you look wonderful. Second, where are they?"
Kristoff spat the flower out, cleared his throat and tried to look half-serious. "Elsa left a bit early. She said she was feeling sleepy, but she definitely looked troubled. Of course, Anna followed."
"And you were waiting for her to come back. Don't worry, the image's going with me to the tomb. I don't think I'll be able to get it out of my brain anyway. I'll go check on her. See ya, Kris."
And just like that, he was headed towards Elsa's room. He hadn't been to it a lot—while he was close to the royal family and her personal guard, it was still a sanctuary for the Queen. But for now, his worry erased any doubts that could've hampered his steps.
He reached the door faster than he'd thought his legs could carry him and gently knocked.
"Come in."
That was Anna's voice. In a whisper. Elsa was probably already asleep.
He peeked inside as carefully as he could.
The bright silvery moonlight was a diffuse ocean that spilled into the room, lessening the inky blackness of the night that glimpsed through the window and against which the trees silhouetted like an army watching after their liege, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above.
Elsa and Anna were on the bed, curled up against each other in a way that almost made him jealous.
"Hey there. Everything all right?" he murmured.
Anna smiled warmly, outshining even the moon with the pure brilliance her expression emanated—he sometimes understood why Kristoff was so helplessly in love. "Yeah. She's just a bit tired. She'll probably want to talk to you, tomorrow."
"Not anything… bad?"
"Not really. You'll see. Or... hear, I guess."
That was all he needed to know.
"Okay. I'm going to let you rest. See you tom—"
"Actually, why don't you stay for a bit?"
"What? Stay here?"
"Yeah. Elsa relaxed when she heard your voice." Anna redirected her gaze towards the snuggling ball of purple that clung to her side and tenderly brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. "You should see how big her smile is."
Garret couldn't hold in a surge of heat from pulsing around his entire body. "Going for the heart, now?"
"You're not the only marksman in the castle."
He released a resigned sigh, stepped inside and quietly approached the only chair available—which probably cost more than his entire room down in the barracks.
"You're just gonna sit there?" Anna asked with a raise of her eyebrows.
He plopped down and crossed his arms. "Yup."
"There's room on the bed."
"Oh yeah, right next to the Queen and the now engaged Princess, in my guard uniform. Silly me," he snorted out.
"Who's gonna come in? The Queen?"
"Not happening, Anna. Go to sleep. I'll leave when you do."
"Ten crowns says you snore before I do."
He chuckled and metaphorically clapped her raised hand from a distance.
"Deal."
Anna was still there. The ice blade piercing her heart too.
Wait, no. It's not Anna.
The hair was red, but it wasn't a woman she was looking at. Though his smile was beautiful and rejuvenating, the small twitches obviously showed how much hurt he was in. She tried to call his name, but nothing came out of her mouth.
The man morphed, transformed. The name still didn't come back. Now, a brilliant silhouette stood before her, the halo of pure light almost blinding her. Something lifted from its right. Was it an arm? A threat? A warning? An invitation?
Then she heard it again. A long chant she now recognized sounded a lot like a kulning—an old herding call. She heard it once, then twice.
And Elsa woke up.
But the call didn't stop.
She tried to seal her ears with a pillow, but it still cleaved through. It came from over the seas and echoed around the fjord. Outside, a comforting blue glow swallowed the balcony. The skies were clear, the waters were calm.
She sat on her mattress and ran her eyes around her; Anna was sprawled like a starfish over her half of the bed. Their mother's scarf was over her, the usual thin line of drool that shone like a glass tube and slipped out of her sister's mouth dangerously close to its exterior rim. Elsa gently readjusted it to cover her naked right shoulder. On the chair, right next to the door, Garret sat with his arms and legs crossed and a towel over his face; Elsa repressed a gasp of surprise. Anna had surely told him to stay, he would never have done it on his own otherwise.
Elsa silently crawled out of her bed. The parquet's creaking was a bit too loud for her taste; Garret stirred in place and she held her breath, her eyes glued to him. After a few seconds, when she was sure he had gone back to a night of restful sleep, she allowed herself to slip forward—she couldn't risk lifting her feet for fear that it would wake him. As he had explained once, spending an entire year on the run made his sleep light, which also meant that he wasn't hearing the call.
Sliding outside through the door's narrow opening, Elsa threw one last glance to Anna before closing the door's heavy frame. Yet another chant thundered when the lock snapped into place.
"Stop it," she said to nobody in particular, aiming her voice at the roof. "You're just being a bother."
The call rang again a bit faster than the first times, with an insolence that bordered on Olaf's. Elsa scoffed at the irony. Even strange ethereal voices laughed at her attempts at authority.
One of her castle's innumerable red-draped corridors spread out before her; she could walk to clear her head. She hugged herself on instinct and pressed onwards. The red-topped candles around her seemed to flicker with each of her steps, with each of the incessant calls.
"Stop it, Siren, Shepherdess… Whoever you are!" she whispered in anger. "I know you're trying to lure me out of here, and I won't go!"
Elsa reached the family salon and its vast balcony. She stepped outside and filled her lungs with the crisp and puffy night air.
The magnificent spectacle of the fjord's quiet slumber was a view she never tired of: the faint glint of the full moon reverberating on the clean surface of the water; Arendelle's burning lights and picturesque houses melding together to form a landscape that wouldn't be too out of place in a fairy tale; the summits that reached as high as the skies in the distance, and where her new ice castle stood proudly; the twinkle of the stars even above those, eternal lights in an otherwise empty and dark void.
Maybe this once it would alleviate the nuisance in her ear.
As soon as the thought left her brain, the call repeated itself, slower, louder. Elsa sighed, but something was different this time. It sounded appealing.
She lifted focused eyes to the horizon. It was calling her, and only her. Why? What did it want?
A question she was surprised she wanted answered more and more with each passing second.
Before she knew it, Elsa was already next to the railing. Then her eyes closed, and her heart opened. Then the call came, and she listened. Then she was perched over the edge, hungry for more. Then she prepared her answer, and…
"Please tell me you're not about to break into song."
Garret's voice called her back to reality with a startle that rattled her entire body. She uttered a short yelp and whirled to face him; he was leaning against the glass door at the balcony's entrance with crossed arms and a lifted eyebrow. He probably could hear her quickened heartbeats judging by how loud they sounded to her.
"I know the sky looks pretty, but it's 3 in the morning," he added.
"Garret! You scared me…"
"Sorry about that," he said while walking closer. His brows furrowed in genuine worry. "What are you doing out here? Alone?"
"Just… thinking."
"About what?"
Elsa released a breath.
I can talk to him about this. I was planning to anyway.
She summoned her ice, and a few snowflakes scurried away from her palm. "This."
"Your powers… Anything new?"
"I'm…" She looked into the distance, her gaze wandering into the deep blue of the sea. "I'm hearing a call."
His eyes widened immediately, and he stepped even closer. "God-freaking-dammit. When? How often? What does it say? Who is it?"
"I can't really…" She shook her head, and his excitement died out faster than it had shot up. "It's far, that much I know. Far over the horizon."
"What does it sound like?" Elsa took a second to breathe and tried to replicate the call as precisely as she could—a task that proved easier than she'd thought. "All right, that gave me goosebumps but it's nothing like what I heard."
"I thought so." She had known that since the very first time she heard it. "It started this morning. When we found this room… this secret chamber, full of strange books."
"You didn't talk to me about this…"
He looked honestly disappointed.
"I was going to, tomorrow," she said, and he seemed to believe her immediately. "One of the books was written by Mother. Some of the text was in Northeldrian. You know the Northuldra?"
"I've heard of them. The Last Arendellian War."
Having lost Arendelle's army, her father had dubbed it thus as a pledge to never lose more lives in conflict, and he had refused to form an armed force again. He never said it outright, but Elsa knew he had been profoundly scarred by his experience in that forest.
"Yes, that war claimed my grandfather and the entire Arendellian military. Father and Mother came back from it when they were still teenagers."
Garret crossed his arms. "Einar also talked about something stirring up North..."
"You know you have to call him Lord Sorenson now."
"Meh, he wouldn't mind." She countered his smug grin with a skeptical glance. "…much. He wants me to check on the advanced scout camps with Captain Karel."
Elsa's heart tightened at the idea that he'd be so far for a few days. "That's probably cause for worry." Her hand squeezed on her own shoulder. "I read this one word, and the call started right after."
"What was the word?"
"It sounds more like a name. Ahtohallan."
He winced. "Never heard it."
"Me neither, before this. And the library taught me nothing. The book was written just before they… They…" She sighed heavily. Despite the six years since their passing, talking about them was still hard. "They were researching where our powers came from."
"Yours only. Remember what Pebbly—"
"Pabbie."
"—said. For all we know, mine come from somewhere else."
Elsa leaned against the cold stone and shook her head. They had talked about this before. "They appeared during your fourth winter, exactly when I was born. I don't think it's a coincidence."
"Maybe. So, what do we do now?
"What do you want me to do? I have a duty here; I can't just dash off into the sunset." He raised suspicious eyebrows and lightly tilted his head. "What?" He blinked rapidly, just like he did when he tried very hard to look surprised, and she had to bite her lip not to smile. "What are those eyes for?"
He chuckled and came right next to her; his forearms rested on the railing. "Let me tell you a story."
"What is it with you and stories?" she asked in amusement.
The warm smile she adored appeared on his face. "She used to love telling them. This one is about the Moon." He pointed a finger towards the big brilliant circle above their heads and she followed his gaze up. "Look at it. What do you see?"
"On the… Moon?"
"Yes. On the surface."
"Craters."
"Cra-what now?"
"Schroeter names them that. They're vestiges of what I think are impacts left behind by space rocks, but most scientists think they're traces of vulcanis—" She stopped when she caught his wide blank stare scrutinizing her from her right. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Those are not your nothing eyes."
"You're always so focused on technical stuff… I was thinking, more like a face. Look. The eyes, the nose, the mouth."
She understood what he was referring to. "Oh, Máni?"
"That's how you call the Man in the Moon?"
"Yes, and he is continually pursued by the Great Wolf Hati who catches him and devours him at Ragnarök. Is that your story?"
He squinted hard. "That is significantly darker than my story and now it's ruined in my head. But anyway, my point is, you can't just ignore that call, yeah?" His half-smirk disappeared after a few seconds. "You're taking way too long to say No, I can't."
"I don't know, Garret; everything is fine… Everyone I've ever loved is here. I have the feeling I'll only be looking for trouble if I follow it."
She tried not to dwell too much on her use of a certain word.
He simply chortled. "And we're just going to let your powers grow indefinitely?"
Wait. What?
She hadn't talked to him about their strange behavior for the last few weeks.
"How did you—"
He raised an arm and she uttered a strengthless gasp; ice crystals appeared and hissed away on his hand in an endless cycle, growing and shining then waning and vaporizing.
"The little ones are back."
Her own hand flew to his in reflex and imbued it with her magic; she covered it in a thick mist that would hopefully dissolve the pesky protuberances.
"Are they hurting you? Oh, spirits they're hurting you, aren't they?"
She looked to the ground, both hurt and shame tugging down at her stomach.
"I'm fine, don't worry. They don't hurt this time. But Elsa…" His free hand hesitantly glided towards her; it wouldn't go farther without her approval. She leaned into its contact and let it trace down her cheek in a slow and gentle stroke before lifting her chin. That tender smile was back on his face. "You can't turn away from your call like this."
"I don't need anything to change, Garret," she softly answered. "I can just not hear it."
"I saw what that attempt looked like in the corridor."
The heat popped into her face in a volcanic eruption of self-consciousness; but there was also a tinge of irritation that melded with the hot lava of mortification.
She leaned away an iota. "You should have announced yourself. You can't just peep on me like that…"
He carefully watched her movements; this was something he knew would embarrass her. He sighed and hunched slightly forward. At the very least, he looked like he was aware he had been rude.
"You're right, I apologize. Won't happen again." She gave him a small bashful smile and a quick squeeze of her fingers—she appreciated his apology as much as his attempts to cheer her up. "But more importantly," he continued. "I know this is not what you want. You need your adventure."
"I've had my adventure. I don't need something new."
"Elsa. Three years ago, Anna and Kristoff had their adventure; and they found each other. Two years ago, I had my adventure; and I found you. Now is the time for you to have your adventure, and find out who that is," he said with a nod toward the thin silver line between sea and sky.
"A queen can't wander off into the unknown like that. I have a duty to these—"
"No duty will ever be more important than the one you have to yourself," Garret asserted with confidence, standing slightly taller and speaking louder to emphasize his point. His words resonated with her in a novel way. "You're always giving, never receiving."
"And I should just go?"
"You won't be alone. If I know Anna, she'll probably stick to you harder than Olaf does to anything hot, which makes Kristoff in too. And for what it's worth…" He stepped back and bowed regally. "You'll have me."
Elsa quietly giggled. He always played tame in front of everyone, but he loved his theatrics.
Turning back to the horizon, Elsa felt that same urge to follow the call fill her entire being. As if reacting to her, the voice rose again, its ethereal hum driving shivers up her back.
"Can I really?" she asked.
"You're hearing it?"
"I am."
He let go of her hand. "Answer it."
"That will set things into motion I probably won't control…" Elsa said, trying as much as she could to repress her shy enthusiasm from bursting out.
Garret nodded and all doubts flew away.
I don't have to follow it now. Let's just see what it has to say.
The call came once more. This time, it wouldn't remain alone for long. She took a profound inspiration and mirrored the chant, projecting her voice as far she could. The echo banged inside the fjord, lapping against the shores as vividly as the cradle of the waves.
And she waited.
Silence was her answer.
Elsa was on the verge of shouting out in the open for a second time when the response finally came.
A flurry of glittering powder darted from her hand without asking her first, materializing in front of her eyes and assuming the shape of a purple scintillating flame that danced around her in a succession of happy little hops.
The fire became whirlwind; it collapsed and surged upwards with a mighty push, leaping and whirling and twisting and jittering above her head. The gale was accompanied by a quiet yet strident giggle, an otherworldly titter both ancient and juvenile.
Then it flowed in an imprecise growth of blue glowing fluid, a vortex of colliding cascades that broke, reformed, separated, fused. Elsa tried to track all the movements at once, quickly abandoning the task when the silhouette of a horse flashed together and bowed before her.
The fluid turned solid and heavy. It scampered ahead of her into a pile of brut masses, building up little by little until they were thrice her size. They stomped the very ground, trampled the rocks themselves. They bobbed what looked like their heads and disintegrated in a dusty trail of particles.
And then a girl appeared. Her giggle was shorter this time, but more human, less intangible. Her hair dashed up and her entire body soon followed, lifting off the ground in a dazzling soar to the skies.
The images faded into the darkness that was now surrounding her, dimming out against the starry night's celestial awning.
The call echoed one last time and receded beyond the waters in a final high note.
Elsa opened the eyes she hadn't even realized she had closed. Garret hadn't budged, and she had a lot to say to him.
"It replied back! It spoke to me!"
Her voice was pitching way too high, but she couldn't care less.
"What did it say?"
"I don't know! It's amazing!"
Garret released a single chuckle. "…thaaaaat you don't know what it said?"
"I know it can talk to me, sort of? You didn't see any of it?" He shook his head. "I saw… I saw images. I can't make sense of them now."
"I'm just going to… stand here and wait for you to sift through all that."
"There were big silhouettes after a horse and… A fire? I didn't even know magic could take that color. Then there was a little girl…" Elsa suddenly recalled what those visions reminded her of. "We have to go see the trolls! Pabbie used the exact same magic to forecast the future! They might be able to tell what the visions mean. Let's go!" Without a second thought, Elsa darted inside, the balcony and its hesitations quickly forgotten. Her ardor damped in a flash when she stopped in front of a mirror and took a second to assess her situation. She walked back to where Garret still stood, the amused yet soft grin still adorned on his face. "Or… We might want to wait for the morning."
"Are you going to be able to sleep?"
"Yes?" Elsa winced and everything about her hunched—she could try to lie to herself, but not to him. "No."
He laughed earnestly. "I love seeing this giddy excitement."
"Hey, I'm not a child anymore," she said, making sure to lightly slap his shoulder on her way outside. "Don't patronize me."
He pointed at her face. "Been a while since I saw one of those." She was confused at first as to what he was referring to, then the hurt in her cheeks told her that she had been grinning from ear to ear the entire time. "Oh, screw it, you know what?"
"Language…"
"Let's go, right now."
"Are you serious?" He gave her a sharp nod, already stepping out of the balcony. "You and me?"
He threw a thumb in her room's general direction. "I can go wake Anna up if you want."
Elsa took a few seconds to think. "That's not necessary. She's had a long day. We'll fill her in when we come back."
"Right. I'll go prepare the horses."
"Horses? One will be enough, no?"
"Oh, I thought… All—all right? The horse. I'm going to prepare the horse."
Despite the buzz of hysteric thrill pulsing through her, there was still a part of Elsa that wanted to be sure she was making the right choice in pursuing the voice.
"Is it going to be worth it?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her.
He shrugged and lifted two hands to his sides. "Only one way to know that, innit? We'll take a plunge and see what happens."
"We might end up drowning."
"Then we'll just freeze the water. We're good at that."
Elsa smiled to the ground, her heart filling with a warmth she had been yearning for.
"Garret?" she called before he could dash away.
"Aye?"
She didn't have as much trouble finding the words after two years, but she still had to untangle a few knots in her throat to speak. "This means a lot. I feel like I'm always thanking you..."
"You've been there for me for a long while. Time to return the favour."
His gigantic smile was making it very hard not to stutter. How he didn't understand that his mere presence was more than enough to lift her spirits was beyond her, but also one of his most adorable quirks.
"Thank you."
He nodded once, the mix of green and blue shine in his eyes boosting her own confidence.
"Always."
And he disappeared behind a corner, leaving her alone with the Moon.
AN: Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it
Aight. This one came out close to the two-week mark. Highly unlikely it'll happen again, but let's enjoy my punctuality for once!
So. On the subject of movie scenes and lines: you may have noticed a few 'wink wink I saw the movie too' lines here. It won't happen a lot. Probably once or twice more for the entire arc. It already began here, but extensive changes start next chapter.
Of course, thoughts and comments are as always very welcome!
Let's pick up on the teaser theme, shall we? Next chapter's theme is Glacial by The Hit House, which honestly serves as a theme for this one too. Yes, I think the movie the trailer tried to sell was going to be very different.
See you next time!
Peace,
CalAm.