Spirits

The sound of hammering hooves on the cold ground melded with the background noise of whistling wind and jumbling leaves. The trees around Elsa were turning a shade not unlike Anna's hair, but a few patches of green still valiantly fought the crimson invasion.

Embla had been astonishingly calm for the trip under the glinting bask of the moonlight—a surprising yet very welcome change from her usual fearful nature. Maybe Elsa's own calmness was leaking into her?

It probably also helped that Garret was not bad with horses. He held her reins as delicately as she would have done; he was acutely aware Embla didn't like abrupt riders, and that she was the only steed in Arendelle Elsa accepted to ride on. Personality compatibility, perhaps?

She gently caressed her mount's stomach and brought her right hand over her left in a secure grip around Garret's waist.

"This is nice. I should go riding more often," she said.

"It's always nice to walk outside, clear your head. But we both know you don't have the time." He clicked his tongue and stirred his head so that he could look at her from over his shoulder. "That free time isn't going to magically appear unless you tell the Council you want it."

Again with this.

It was now a habit of him to ask her to take it easy; ever since becoming her personal guard and thus spending a lot more of his days directly at her side while she worked, he'd brought the subject up at least twice a week. The worried glances he threw at her every time her fingers barely brushed her temples or she sighed a bit too loudly were heartwarming at first, but they eventually grew to stress her more than anything.

Garret shrugged. "I'm sure Anna, Einar, Finn, Leif, Henrik—basically everyone but Harold would agree, and Harold is the human equivalent of a ball of cr—of a tea stain on a napkin."

"Harold isn't most… accommodating, but I don't need that much leniency. Now that Anna helps me with everything I have more than enough time for myself and my family. I don't think bringing it up every day will change that."

"As always, stubborn. I get the message. I'll stop if that is your wish, Your Majesty." He always used her title whenever he wanted to show he was displaying mock displease. She lightly slapped his shoulder and he shuffled back in place. "I don't know why, but I feel like this Valley is a lot further away than last time…"

Elsa quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "You were unconscious last time."

"My point exactly."

She repressed a chuckle at his—arguably, bad—tentative to look tough. "What does that mean? You don't like my company?"

"I do. Majesty."

"That'd be a shame because I enjoy yours. I would have no one to torment with pranks otherwise."

"I see. I'm just a queen's buffoon, then. Happy to please."

Elsa unfolded her hand and fired a delicate flurry of snowflakes up at his face. She caught with an amused glance a few minuscule glimmering wisps of magic sneaking up his nose.

The poor man was taken by surprise and reeled up, releasing a gigantic sneeze that almost spooked Embla. Elsa kept the laughter quiet by putting a hand over her mouth when he turned around, his cheeks low and eyes wide at her traitorous jab.

"Bless you," she said, a single joyous squeal escaping past her lips.

"Nuh-uh. You don't get to say that. Not after that sucker punch. Couldn't even defend myself. Horrendous." He turned back to the road, and his shoulders exaggeratedly sank in disappointment. "Ladies and gentlemen, the 24-year-old queen of Arendelle."

Elsa giggled again, but now that she'd seen him in a state of relative alert, the way his head hung slightly lower than before and his eyelids looked too heavy for him made her sigh in understanding.

"You're nodding off," she realized aloud. "Did you sleep well last night?"

At her words, he immediately sat straighter on his saddle, so straight that he was almost against her own body now. "I'm fine, just had a long day. I took a nap this afternoon, should be enough."

She squeezed his torso with her arms as gently as she could. "No, you didn't. No need to put up a face."

"Heh. No, I didn't. But I'll manage."

You won't.

The dwindling fizzle that faded progressively in his eyes was proof enough of that. He wouldn't see it himself, so she had to show him he was beyond tired. Why did she always have the impression the roles were reversed?

Of the two, she was supposed to be the young one. Surely that meant he had to be more responsible.

Elsa quietly scanned his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He tried to look around him with groggy eyes and a clearly repressed yawn, apparently settling on the reins wrapped around his fingers when he didn't find her raised hand. "Umm… Two?"

To his credit, two was the most likely answer to her question; it wasn't any less wrong, though.

"No."

"Three?"

"Either."

"Twelve?"

"My hands are still around you, Garret."

He threw a glance down to his stomach, comprehension dawning on his face like the sun over the ocean. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh." Elsa drew circles with her hand on his back then gave it tender small taps, a quick pang of guilt passing through her at the idea that he was so tired because he was accompanying her. "Please get some sleep. I can handle the riding for a bit. There should be an hour or so left."

Garret took a long inspiration and gently signaled for Embla to stop her trotting. "All right."

He slumped to the ground and extended a hand to help Elsa get on the most forward part of the saddle before jumping up and sitting behind her. Except he had sat a lot closer to her than she had been to him, and she could feel the ragged leather of his dark coat against her.

She tried to quell the heat that burst in her cheeks, scooted an inch forward and cleared her now tighter throat.

"Is—Is that better?"

"I'm just missing a mattress. And a pillow. And a tea." His voice had gone deeper again, and the fact that he had been so close to her ear drove involuntary shivers up her neck. "But it'll do."

Elsa's frivol embarrassment melted away at the sight of his relaxed smile. She was still not overly comfortable with so much contact, but he didn't burn her, and he looked at ease.

"The things I let you do to me."

"I know. Scandalous."

Time passed in silence when he fell into his slumber. His rhythmic breathing synchronized with Embla's, as if he was still hearing everything around them in his sleep.

Elsa was alone, but the chirps and squeaks inside the woods here and there reassured her whenever things got too quiet. Elsa did not fear the forest as she had during her first passage.

While the nightmares of the day she'd rushed through it with her parents still lingered in some of her nights, they backed away quicker under the flame that Anna had taught her to wield, that Arendelle had brought higher and that Garret had kept steady in her hand. The forest had lost its terrifying aura.

The hour left in the voyage turned into two, but time still flew by. If Elsa could live through a two-hour debate about whether the capital's upper plateaus needed acacias or saxifrages, she could survive a two-hour tour of her favorite parts of Aren's Forest. And so she did.

The road to the Valley's high rocks and steep cliffs zigzagged deep into the realm of menhirs and dolmens so ancient the serrated wrinkles crinkling and waggling down their lengths had outlived entire civilizations. The gigantic gash in the mountain grew before her as Embla advanced; the entry to the trolls' timeless territory was now in sight.

The trolls' round silhouettes stood out from the dark background. Among them, Pabbie's glowing threads of green moss and lazy vine striping down his skull shone brighter, enough to highlight the tight worry that marred his face.

A sudden jolt at her back drew a breathless gasp from her.

"Oh God! Trolls! Wolves! Trolls riding wolves!" Garret exclaimed with a start.

"Ah!" Elsa yelped. She turned wide eyes to her now very awake companion, trying to keep her heart from beating itself out of her chest. "What was that?"

Garret looked around him and, in a rush of self-consciousness that Elsa could only relate to, pinched his nose. "Ugh, my head. That's why I never nap."

"That doesn't answer the question. Questions. First: What do you dream of?"

"My brain is weird, don't pay much attention to it," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand and a quick massage of his neck. "I suppose we're there?"

"Almost. Let me do the talking for this one, okay? Pabbie can get, umm, quite philosophical."

"Oh, he's that type of guy?"

"Which type?"

Garret leaned on the side to observe the trail and the hundreds of living rocks at its end. "No one gets what he says but everyone understands that he has the right to say it?"

Elsa's first instinct was to roll her eyes at him, but thinking back on them, his words did hold some veracity.

"That… is actually it. Kind of. I'm surpri—"

"He's basically a military instructor."

"—sed you didn't try to bring it back to your army days…" she finished, her tone graveling down with each word, mirroring the very noticeable narrowing of her eyes. "I'm starting to doubt whether you can talk about anything else."

"At least I don't backstab people."

"What does that have to do with anything I just said?!"

Garret clamped his eyes shut. "Oh, sweet arms of Morpheus. How nice of you to welcome me back."

That girl was an inexhaustible source of trouble. And now that there were two of them, Pabbie should have known better than to hope for the dull moments to taper off into a reposing sunset. Real life didn't work like that; magic didn't work like that, especially not when it dealt with unknowns.

Elsa's horse approached and stopped a few paces away from him; Garret dropped to the ground—his eyes were way too puffy and his powers way too feeble for him not to have just awakened from a restless sleep—and guided Elsa down with a careful hand.

They have each other for now, Pabbie thought. That's something.

"Hello, Grand Pabbie," Elsa said.

He bowed low, his tribe replicating his gestures with cranky whispers. "Queen Elsa. Garret."

She gracefully bowed back, and the soldier nodded in greeting.

"I had a feeling I'd meet you soon," Pabbie continued.

There wasn't any point in delaying it. He knew why she had come, and what she had tipped beyond the point of no return.

Her lifted eyebrows were formal; she hadn't considered that he'd know. "You did? You've seen what I've seen?"

He confirmed her suspicion with a curt nod. "And the news isn't good. Follow me. You too, Garret."

The trolls split into a path large enough for the two humans to walk and Pabbie led them to the Cave Vale's entrance with swift steps. He pulled at the rocks' magic and they answered him, rolling and colliding and clashing in a melody as old as he was; the passage grew enough for Garret's larger build to pass through this time.

"You already came here with me, Elsa, but we're going deeper this once."

He lifted a hand, and the sprigs and elemental iotas of magic gathered in his palm, shining brighter and brighter. He passed his quarters, opened the gate to the old ones' Deep Tunnels, lit the first extinguished flames and advanced, Garret and Elsa falling into his steps.

The ground shook harder under them the further they went, and he heard the two children of ice's hearts tighten in anxiousness.

"Quakes are common here, don't worry," Pabbie reassured. "They're never dangerous."

The cavern's walls plunged deep into the earth and journeyed to its core, but the group would reach the levels the ancestral carvings occupied long before the heat would become unbearable for the two humans. A sore rumble growled louder as they walked; an intermittent shaking threw two or three pebbles at them every now and then.

The marks of the old ones snaked up the walls, the scars on the stone carved by water and time contributing to the aura of wisdom that pulsed within each cold vein. The ancients had foretold until the end of times, in a network of tunnels that expanded far beyond the limits of the continents. Fortunately, they had been wise enough to mark every story near its birthplace.

Pabbie listened to the periodic whispers that emanated from Elsa—though she probably wasn't aware they even existed. Now that the light of her magic had been activated and guided him, he knew where to find her story. He just had to follow the pulses.

He stopped when the voices did; they were now before the engravings he had to show them.

"Elsa, I hope you're ready for what you started."

"What do you mean?"

Pabbie lifted his hand and illuminated the walls; Elsa took a sharp breath and Garret uttered a quiet Huh.

The old carvings had lost their golden gleam over the thousands of millennia, but the shapes were simple enough to be recognizable.

Four diamonds. A cloud of mist. A forest. And in the middle of it all, a flower guided by wind.

A premonition.

"You answered something, right?" Pabbie asked.

Worry flashed inside Elsa's eyes as fast as her curious gaze evaporated. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It can be… Depending on how you handle it. Come closer, child." Pabbie's fingers grazed the walls, their light transferring inside the engravings and pulsating with a new flicker of knowledge embedded in rock. The ancients spoke to him, and their premonitions materialized before him.

The four diamonds swirled around each other and blinked into nothingness. "Whoever called you, did from the North. North of the Red Forest, home to powerful spirits." A mighty steed emerged from the depths. "The first governs over the waters of the Dark Sea and the Høyrød River." A gust of eternal gale blew through the tunnel. "The second commands the Northwind and its storms." A horned beast roared and slashed, eyes ablaze. "The third is the chief of the Great Fires of Hálogi." A million heads sprang, and a jagged silhouette stood taller than all. "The last is the earthly embodiment of Jörð's will and guides the earth's children. Trolls come from the same entity as he does."

"Those are the images I saw," Elsa said. Her hand flew to her heart. "That's what the voice showed me."

Garret's eyes squinted hard. "And they're just carved on the walls like this?"

Doubt. It was understandable. Even if he wielded magic, it wasn't woven in his very being like it was with Pabbie. Humans had a hard time with magic in general, especially when the old ones were involved.

"These engravings have been here for much, much longer than I," he explained.

"How old does that mean?" Garret asked. Elsa lightly slapped his shoulder and he turned to her in honest confusion. "What?"

"That's rude."

"It is a legitimate interrogation." Pabbie chuckled and gazed far into the dark void of the earth's crust's depths. "I was born long before humanity. These premonitions, however, are warnings from those who were there when our world was born and shaped it to how we see it today—they're not prophecies. Does that answer your question?" Garret gave a sheepish nod—the boy was endearing, in a sense. But he had to make them both understand the dangers that lied on Elsa's path. "Elsa. These are powerful beings. Clusters of similar spirits became revered as gods elsewhere, for good reason."

"How powerful can they be?" she asked.

"Enough to seal an entire forest from the rest of the world without effort."

She shook her head in disbelief. "The Red Forest is sealed? With the Northuldra still inside?"

"It has been for the last thirty years. A mighty mist appears to those inside and out, cutting them from each other. It darkens it skies, hides its sun."

"That's when the Last Arendellian War ended… How come we never heard of this? There are scout camps barely a few miles away."

"Stand afar, and the mist fades. Spirits are clever, too."

Garret crossed his arms. "The spirits did that?"

"I believe so. And they're angry. They're not independent however; they coexist with us and other elementals, with the humans you call Northuldra, and with someone else."

"Someone else?"

Pabbie faced the engravings back and called for the only image that blurred before his eyes. A long and unclear humanoid silhouette, higher than a house and wider than an oak.

"A figure without name. A silent guardian, a steadfast warden or a watchful trickster. It stands above the spirits, never intervening directly. What it wants, and what it does; none has ever been able to tell. That is the source of my concern, Elsa. I suspect this is who's calling you. And we cannot be sure of its intentions."

"It only speaks to me…" She sank into her thoughts, only emerging mere moments later with a finger lifted. "Does the name Ahtohallan mean anything to you?"

That wasn't something Pabbie had ever heard of.

"Unfortunately not, child. But I can look."

He touched the walls again and questioned the old ones.

Ahtohallan.

A name bearing memory and history, but not much else. Only a fragment remained, and the hazy voices gathered once again to speak through him.

"The gears of time turn, yet the future waits. A fang born of pride met as sharp an edge. Truth shall rise, lest the flower falls."

The voices left his mind, the cloud of their wisdom dissipating in the tunnel's humid obscurity.

"That was pretty explicit," Garret said with pursed lips.

Elsa's hands were on her hips, her brows furrowed in concentration. "The middle part isn't the clearest, but yes."

Garret's hands dropped and he scratched his forehead. "Umm… No, I was just being sar—Nevermind."

"The first part is about the Red Forest. It makes sense to describe it as frozen in time if it's sealed away," Elsa deduced. "I have to discover some truth, that I understand too. And since everything else is tied to me, the flower most likely refers to the Crocus, so…"

"Arendelle is in danger?"

"That's a possibility."

Elsa and Garret exchanged a look and a determined nod. Pabbie wondered whether they'd even notice if he disappeared right there and then.

"We'll have to discover what truth it is, I think," she resumed. "Is there anything else that could help us here, Grand Pabbie?"

"If there is, I am not aware of its location, and it would take several of your lifetimes to search."

"Then we must do with what we have. Garret, shall we go back and warn Anna?"

"Lead the way."

Elsa snapped her fingers and her ice lighted her path before her. She jogged up the tunnels, leaving Pabbie alone with Garret. A perfect opportunity to make sure his warning had been heard.

"Garret," Pabbie called. "I've been meaning to talk to you. I know I shouldn't have cautioned her against you two years ago, and I apologize. But she needs you and Anna more than ever. I told Elsa long ago that her powers were too much for this world…"

He immediately scowled at his words. "Excuse me, you did what?"

"Oh, you didn't know… You'd just appeared in Arendelle with your ice magic and that hatred inside of you, I thought it best—"

"Wait a second," Garret interrupted with a shake of his head. "Don't care about that. Backtrack to that 'too big for the world' shite. You're the one who told her that?"

Pabbie pushed a heavy sigh out of his lungs and clasped his hands in his back. "I did. It is not my proudest feat."

The marks of anger started showing on Garret's traits. The green of his eyes slowly receded to the outer rims, replaced by a blue shine that crept out of his iris. "Do you realize how much suffering she's been in because of that?"

The walls trembled around them. The old ones sensed a disturbance in the magic flows of the galleries—they were trying to correct it.

"Please calm down. Magic tends to react strongly to our surroundings," Pabbie explained in hopes to avoid the heavy stones above their heads collapsing over Garret.

After a long silent moment of staring, the soldier's tightened fist relaxed, and the blue glow disappeared from his pupils—but not the ire. Pabbie cast his glance to the ground in shame.

"I… I know all too well the heavy toll I took on those girls. I was there, both times Anna was hit. I made a lot of mistakes during my centuries. None have eaten away at my sleep quite like this one." His words seemed to strike true to Garret's heart—his face softened gradually. "The Elsa I just saw has a strength of will even my predecessors would have found remarkable, but this time it's not a test of her will. We have to pray that her powers are enough." Pabbie reached for Garret's shoulder and squeezed to share his magic. That was the only way to soothe him completely, and it would strengthen his magic's resonance with his. Elsa needed as many anchors as possible. "In pursuit of truth, she'll have to face obstacles we cannot fathom yet. She'll need Anna, but she'll also need you. She'll be scared, she'll hesitate. She mustn't."

Garret nodded and followed Elsa's trail with his eyes. "I'll make sure she finds out what she has to do. Even if it turns my hair white."

"About that. I'm still debating whether your existence has anything to do with all this."

Garret glanced back with a quirked eyebrow. "And my hair told you that."

"In a sense. You're still a mystery to me. By all accounts, your powers shouldn't exist, or your hair would have been the same as hers. Elsa's magic was there when she was born, but yours…"

"She told me my hair turned clear blond and my eyes blue once," Garret said. "I almost died though. Not sure a hair dye is worth that price."

Curious.

"Then, I was wrong. Both your powers' essences aren't the same, that still holds—but they're not so different. Which means that they're a modification for you, but not a curse. Very strange."

The way his eyes had burned blue a bit earlier… These were indeed the eyes of an elemental like Elsa, and Garret was obviously not one if he looked like he looked.

"Never saw someone like me?"

"I did, but they weren't human. That changes a lot of things. Elsa and you are the only humans I know who can directly use magic. I'm thinking whatever Elsa finds will answer both your questions about where they came from."

"Then I can stop worrying about my hair, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure, it never stops with those two. They made me pull a few strands older than they are."

They chuckled lightly and Pabbie sighed in relief. He had enough trouble to deal with without adding an angry ice wielder on top of everything else.

The grumble of the earth's core traversed the ground under their feet, with a loud roar that Pabbie had never heard before.

"Another normal earthquake?" Garret asked nonchalantly. "Drinking a good cup must be a nightmare in here."

Pabbie's heart sank. The old ones hadn't commanded a cleanse, and the trolls above were calm. This was something else.

"Not this one," he said gravely.

Garret stiffened and his eyes widened in worry. "Arendelle."

Anna hugged herself close and stood to the plateau's brim, her eyes walking the streets of her own city below. The empty stretches of clean and wet pavement were striking fear into her heart for the very first time.

Her grip tightened around Blue's copper handle and her glance ran the length of its sheath's fine leather stitching. She didn't know what to think of her first reflex being to grab her sword on her way out of her castle. Maybe she worried a bit too much?

To be fair, the situation was extremely worrying. The fires going out had been strange enough, but the roaring waves, howling winds and growling grounds that had driven the entire population out were another matter altogether. The storm still raged unhindered and savage around the main plaza even after two hours had passed, cutting off any passage in town. Anna turned to the discolored and tired faces of her people, cold and shivering in their nightgowns for the majority, standing in silence on the small grassy square while the shock of the unexpected assault waned away.

Kristoff and Sven were already patrolling the improvised camp, delivering warm blankets and words of comfort to whoever accepted them; though the idea that the elements themselves were attacking Arendelle drilled at her, Anna's bleak soiree was brightened at her fiancé's efforts. She joined him on his march, and her forehead instinctively leaned on his shoulder in worry as they walked.

"This is crazy."

"We're used to it by now, I guess," Kristoff said. His attempt at a light tone wouldn't fool her; he was as anxious as she was. But at least he tried, and that was more than enough.

Anna twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers and sought his eyes. "Are we going to be okay? Is she going to be okay?"

Elsa had disappeared in the middle of the night, without a single word. Anna hadn't seen her nor Garret at all ever since the sky, sea and earth unleashed their wrath on them. They couldn't have run together somewhere; Elsa would have told her if anything was wrong.

Right?

Another thunderous rumble rose from afar, and Anna braced herself for another quake. But the earth's jolt of anger didn't come. Instead, a whinny echoed above, and a beige-white horse stopped at the cliff's rim. On its saddle, a panting Elsa and a stunned Garret.

"What's happened?" Elsa asked in hushed astonishment mixed with a tinge of dolor.

Anna couldn't think of any other moment distress had been more apparent on her sister's face. She was already on the verge of tears by the looks of it.

"Is that…"

"Anna, Kristoff! Are you all right?!"

Anna was already dashing towards her before she could register her feet had started moving.

"Elsa!"

The two riders touched ground and rushed to meet her; Anna sank in Elsa's arms and held unto her for dear life.

"Yeah, everyone's okay. I think," Anna started when she finally pulled away and enveloped Garret in a hug too. She couldn't decide what was craziest: what she had to say, or that Elsa was apparently not involved in it. "The lights went out, then there were these absolutely huge waves and then a storm decides to join the fun and we end up with a freaking—Wait, what am I doing? Where the heck were you two? I was worried to death!"

Elsa and Garret exchanged a quick look. "It's a long story."

"I have time," Anna said, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry at her sister—that would come later—but she was definitely annoyed.

"Anna, please. Is everyone okay?"

"We'll take care of the flaming kingdom later, tell me what's going on." Anna could see the punch of blasphemy land on Elsa's face and relented with an apologetic wince. "Sorry. Everyone got out in time, but we can't go back in. We already set up something of a shelter here. We're waiting to see if it calms down."

Garret glanced over the plateau at Arendelle's main square. "That's a big storm."

"I don't think it will die out anytime soon," Elsa worriedly said. "This corresponds to the four spirits. It must be their work."

"Yeah, about time we got to the weird stuff. So, Elsa. I need an explanation, and I get the feeling you know something I don't."

Another fleeting glance flew between the two ice-wielders, and Elsa drew a long breath. "I've been hearing… a voice."

Anna blinked too fast for her own eyes. "You're joking."

"We went to the trolls to know what the deal is," Garret added. "We literally just came back."

She wasn't joking. Anna tried to ignore the pull of betrayal that started gripping her entrails from manifesting too much through her voice.

"So, you've been hearing a voice, and you didn't think to tell me? But you told Garret? No offense."

She wasn't good at keeping her emotions in check. Garret tilted his head and furrowed his brows in amused confusion.

Elsa's hands rested atop hers and gently caressed her skin. "You had other things on your mind."

"Like what?"

"Like your own marriage. And the troubles of being my second."

"Okay. Good point. Except not. Elsa, you promised you'd let me help anytime you'd need! We shouldn't keep each other out."

"It all happened so fast. We were planning to tell you as soon as we came back."

Garret nodded in agreement. "We were, Anna. I swear."

Those two were convincing liars as much as Anna was a quiet sleeper. They were being honest.

"All right. Let's forget about that, it's not important now," Anna said after a sigh heaved from deep within her chest. "Let me get this straight then. Our kingdom started whacking people's butts with its own roads because you heard a voice. Does that sound bonkers to anyone else or am I just a tiny bit crazy?"

"I have this feeling there's more to it," Kristoff spoke up. Anna had completely forgotten that he was still at her side.

"Yes," Elsa confirmed. "I answered a call from the horizon. Pabbie says the Red Forest's spirits want me to right a wrong, find some truth."

Anna lifted her hands and shook her head. "You were going to say something very different in my head. The spirits called you? Then attacked Arendelle?"

"No. Well, yes, seems like they did attack, but someone else did the calling. I think it might be Ahtohallan."

The name from the afternoon's intense but infructuous library search. "Oh! Achtalolan!"

"Ahtohall—"

"If what's calling is the same thing Mother and Father mentioned… Then, yes! You have to find it!" In that instant, the meaning of find struck Anna's mind. To find something, one had to look for it. "Wait. Are you…?"

Elsa winced in begrudging confirmation. "I think I have to."

Anna waved a dramatic hand towards the city under their eyes. "Did you see what they just did to Arendelle?"

Elsa hugged herself and cast her gaze to the ground. "I don't know how I know Anna, but that voice isn't evil. My magic feels it. And it grows stronger every day." She must have caught the skepticism on Anna's face when she immediately added with a light laugh, "I'm not about to lose control again. Winter's still in a few months. But I think I must go. Find out who it is, what it wants. Otherwise, Arendelle will remain in danger."

Anna put a hand to her temple and another to her hip before lifting her eyes towards Garret. "You agree with her?"

"I can't feel it like she does. But I heard something long ago, too. I trust her judgment."

Back to Elsa she went. "This is what you think is the right thing to do?"

"I'm certain of it."

She alternatively dropped sighs at the two sheepish pairs of worried but hopeful eyes.

They're going to be the end of me.

"Okay. I'm with you. What next?"

Elsa's shoulders relaxed and her contrived smile widened into a truer grin. "I take the wagon and Sven. If Kristoff's okay with that."

Anna exploded into a burst of fake sarcastic laughter. "I thought I heard you use I for a second there," she said, wiping imaginary tears from her cheeks.

Kristoff followed her immediately and chuckled in earnest. "Wagon and Sven. Oh, Elsa. You don't crack many jokes, but they pack a punch."

Elsa clasped her hands in front of her, her expression impassible. At her side, Garret narrowed his eyes, repressing a smile.

The laughter stopped abruptly. "You want to go alone," Anna said, her voice dropping an octave in comprehension.

"This is my mess to clean up. I can't ask you to come."

Anna quirked an eyebrow, the fire of her resolution burning hot inside her. "Are you trying to get me to monologue about the Great Thaw? Because that's how you get me to monologue about the Great Thaw."

Kristoff's hand squeezed Anna's shoulder in support. "We're coming, Elsa. Both of us. You're family, we can't let you do this alone. I'll drive."

Anna's hand darted to Blue and pulled the gleaming blade out its socket. "I'll cut the wolves in half."

"I'll entertain," Olaf's squeaky voice chirped from below. How he had followed the conversation was beyond Anna.

They all turned towards Garret whose half-smile hadn't budged. He arched an eyebrow, lifted a hand, and fired a spurt of shiny crystals above his head that danced around to form a floating short sentence.

'Do I need to spell it out?'

Elsa smiled and threw thankful glances to all. "I'm lucky to have all of you." She then lingered on the storm inside her kingdom with a sad but determined air. "Let's let Arendelle know."

The falling sun projected the faint shadows of creamy clouds on the ground, chased away by the night's obscure veil. The sleigh creaked and glided over the irregular soil, Sven's powerful gallops pulling it forward in relative comfort thanks to its advanced suspension system.

Kristoff was very proud of it and usually loved taking people on tours. But Olaf had sucked the pleasure out of this one—he would never have thought trivia could be so uninteresting before spending as little as twenty minutes with him on his ride.

"You're sure you won't forget to remind me?" the knee-high snowman asked.

"That's it, Olaf. I'll wake you up when I need more facts about how rabbits mate."

Olaf flashed a toothy grin. "All right! Night, boys."

He scurried behind and nuzzled himself between Anna and Elsa, who had been sleeping for an hour already.

Kristoff glanced at his right, where Garret sat cross-legged, a hand over the sleigh's rail, protruding eyes betraying his contained frustration. They waited five minutes for Olaf to start snoring.

"Ugh, I thought he would never stop," Garret eventually said.

Kristoff chuckled. "I'd take it down a bit if you don't wanna wake him up. He sleeps light."

Garret released a nervous laugh and let his voice go down to a gentle whisper. "He's making me dread ever having children, eh."

"And we didn't have to change his diapers at any point."

This time the quick laugh was much more genuine. "You're saying that but you're much closer to having any than I am."

"Fair," Kristoff said with a light-hearted shrug.

He'd never really spent much time thinking about the eventual children he could have; now that his marriage with Anna was underway, the possibility was starting to feel as heavy as a pan of concrete on his shoulders.

Children, huh?

They would have all the time to talk about their future progeny once they'd kissed on the altar. Among other things.

"I wanted to talk to you about this, by the way." Garret was giving him that weird 'I don't know if it's a good idea' look he knew too well. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing it? Last I knew, you were still being all nostalgic about your time in the woods, all alone."

Straight to the big one, he always went. Kristoff wasn't exactly sure how much of his archery training was responsible for him being so direct when asking questions and handling problems.

While it did save time, it didn't spare any feelings.

"Oh, yeah, I'm uh… I'm not really over that yet. I think. Still hasn't hammered itself in, I guess."

"You do realize being her man makes you live in a castle for the rest of your life?" Garret uncrossed his leg and stood straighter on his seat, genuine concern making way into his voice. "Do I need to tell you how bad an idea it is to rush into this when you don't know if you're up for being a prince?"

He wasn't so naïve as to think that Kristoff hadn't given it any thought; he was asking rhetorically.

This was his whole life. Anna was his whole life, now.

In the woodlands, with the trolls, and with Sven, he took the habit of always stepping away whenever things got too stifling. He needed to learn to bypass that sensation and be something else, something more; even if it meant lying to her at the start.

"It'll grow on me at one point. Can't be that hard to put on a suit and a smile."

"You'd rather stay inside and play nice in front of fat politicians than ride outside like you used to?"

Kristoff's insides twisted in anticipated disgust. His problem wasn't with politics and aristocracy themselves; it was with entitlement. While Elsa and Anna had obviously lived luxurious—albeit lonely—lives, they didn't take anything for granted, and they thought of the people first.

Not like some of the men that came to their court. He despised those so much it was unbearable to stand in the same room as they did. Children born of pomp and useless splendor who couldn't shake their bottoms to pour their own water.

The answer was clear; he'd much rather spend time in the wilderness than in cushioned seats, trying to decipher whether Count Dumbnut really agreed with Marquess McTight or if they had both liked the punch.

"Even when you put it like that—"

"You'd rather shake hands with someone who always had his meals cooked for him rather than hunt your own in a dark and broody mountain forest?"

"Oh, come on. You're making me sound like a savage."

Garret arched an eyebrow and lifted a finger to his chin. "Oh Lord, am I?"

He was making fun of him. Obviously.

"You're an idiot," Kristoff said with a playful push on his companion's shoulder. "It'll be fine. I'll be with Anna. Nothing else matters." Garret was too silent. Kristoff could guess what expression he was displaying without even looking. "What?"

"You're going to need one hell of a hobby. Maybe two."

The first years would be tough. But all of it—all that struggle—he'd do it, for a lifetime and more. She was worth it.

"I'll do fine. Right, Sven?"

The whinny that followed wasn't overly enthusiastic; the poor animal probably was too tired from the day-long trip.

"You're counting on your reindeer for your marriage." Garret whistled in the open. "I would talk to her about it if I were you. You're obviously a good match, just need to sort that out."

"We'll see about that. You don't get to lecture me though. When you get around, you'll be worse off than I am. Talk about getting the short end of the stick. Rather be prince than king."

Garret narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, G. I'm not a genius but I'm not blind either. Everyone can see you and Elsa are getting all kinds of close."

"Are we now?"

"I bet even the portraits in the hall roll their eyes when you're alone." They chuckled together, but Garret's gaze remained steady. "What, no coy denial? No subtle blush under the hardened face? I can't tell if it's the sun or your hair but I can see some red on those cheeks."

"Why refute the obvious?" Garret asked with a shrug. "We did get close. But not that close."

"Any reason?"

Garret turned to the sleigh's back, where Anna and Elsa were peacefully swimming in dreams in a tight embrace. "She's not ready."

"Oh. Did you at least…"

He didn't know where he was going with that question, and he didn't want to know. Judging by the wide eyes on his face, Garret didn't either.

"Really? You want to know that about your future sister-in-law?"

The lump in Kristoff's throat pulsed harder. "Ugh, spirits. Please don't answer that. Forget I even asked."

Garret sat in silence for a few minutes, eventually releasing a resigned sigh. "We did kiss once though."

That was good news. And nothing short of a prowess. Kristoff had been certain Elsa wasn't one for romance at all.

"Oh, progress!"

"Yeah, no. It was at the literal beginning. Kind of a promise, I think?"

"Long ago?"

"Two years."

Oh. That's a long time.

Kristoff tightened his grasp around his reins. He was going through some sort of a trial, but apparently so was Garret. "You've been waiting for two years?"

"She's worth it," he said quietly.

Kristoff quietly chortled.

You're royally screwed, my friend. Once love bites, it never lets go, he thought.

In many ways, they were very similar. It felt nice to know someone else was trying to sort through their own conflicting feelings too.

"When do you think she'll… be ready?" Kristoff asked.

"I don't know. She can take her time."

It felt nice, but he couldn't be too optimistic. He had to keep it real with Garret, even if it meant giving him an honest warning. That was a dangerous slope.

"What if you're not there by then? What if it's in thirty years? I don't know, seems like a huge gamble. Good for you, though. Hardly ever heard of anything more romantic. Then again, I'm far from being a love expert."

The dejected frown Garret flashed was a sad sight. "She's not a very talkative girl, is she?"

"Give her some credit, she did get better."

"True." Garret's features softened into a fond beam. "Still can't believe it took me almost two years to learn that her favorite dish is lutefisk."

Kristoff shook his head and vehemently picked his ears—that was perhaps the hardest information he had to digest for the day.

"Excuse me, what?"

"I know, right? Two years? Get it together, Garret."

"No, not that. She likes lutefisk?"

Garret's expression went straight to amused comprehension. "Yup."

"You're telling me that Elsa, the literal Snow Queen, the most delicate person I've ever met, the embodiment of noble royalty, proper and dignified Elsa, likes dried raw macerated whitefish?"

That couldn't be true. That single piece of knowledge could destroy the entire image he'd formed of her for three years.

Elsa eating lutefisk.

It would take a lot of time and willpower to take that image off his brain.

"It's more the spirit that appeals to her," Garret explained.

"Of course. The spirit of raw putrid fish. How did I never think of that before?"

"Oh, quit being an ass. It's a Christmas dish, no? Family, friends, gifts, chocolate? Even you can see what she likes in that."

He had a point. But still…

"Lutefisk, though? She could have chosen anyth—"

Their playful exchange and his heart stopped when Elsa's faint voice reached them from the back. "Kristoff, please stop. I hear it."

Anna and Elsa were both awake, wiping eyes and fixing hair.

Please tell me they didn't hear anything, Kristoff thought.

"How long you been up for?"

"Around thirteen seconds," Anna answered with a yawn. "Fourteen."

Kristoff barely had time to snort in relief before Elsa jumped out of the sleigh and darted to the nearby cliff. She stopped and stood there, in complete silence, a hand lifted to her heart.

Garret, Anna and Kristoff shared a synchronous shrug and followed her to her spot; Kristoff couldn't hold an exclamation of surprise-tinted wonder when he peeked over the edge.

"Wow."

The surface of what he could have sworn was a ravine a few seconds before looked barely two feet far.

Most importantly, the Red Forest extended far into the horizon and out of sight from below them, the atmosphere filling with an oppressive pressure the longer they watched it.

The trees were a faded, shredded tapestry of autumn; the crisp golden hues, and the vibrant oranges that blanketed the forest floor he could see from a distance. Auburn leafy branches dipped into and out of the canopy and twisted wooden arms reached down, pirouetting from the overflowing trees in a shower of color, bringing a warmth to the biting chill that was beginning to settle in.

Elsa jumped down and ran without notice. Anna hiccupped in fear and took a step too, breaking into a quick sprint shortly without as much as a look back.

Elsa got closer and closer, but her steps seemed to trigger something. A cloud of heavy mist formed above her head and fell like a veil between her and the forest's limit.

In all his adventures, Kristoff had never seen something that oozed such an eerie yet mystical emanation. The mist scintillated a gleam that didn't even look like it came from the same world as they did.

By the time he, Olaf, and Garret joined them, the white wall had thickened enough to be completely opaque.

Elsa grabbed Anna's hand in reflex and gave it a quick soft squeeze; Kristoff was surprised not to detect any trace of worry on her. On the contrary, she looked… excited? Anna, on the other hand, was already chewing on her free fingernails.

"We do this together, Elsa. Okay?" she asked, receiving a confident acknowledgment in response.

The sisters walked closer to the cloud of clearly magical vapor and Kristoff turned to Garret with a small grin.

"Want to hold hands, too? That'll show'em," he joked with a nod towards Anna and Elsa.

Garret merely snickered and crossed his arms, his eyes turning grave. "This is way too early. We didn't even reach the scout camps. Ingrid and her platoon are supposed to meet us there in two days, but it's obviously going to be a bit more complicated if they can't even get in."

"They won't be able to enter indeed," Elsa explained. From behind them.

That was strange. She was still very much in front of him, her hand pressed against a purple wall that both was and wasn't there.

The way she whirled around and threw stunned glances at them like she had been surprised she had talked wasn't a good sign either. The group volte-faced in turn and was met by a hooded silhouette a dozen feet back.

Kristoff's eyes ran up the length of its robes until he had to use his neck to continue. Towering over them all, darkness within, and void beneath its feet, the shadow stood silent. The threads around it didn't look like threads at all; the garment was a fabric that seemed taken out of the sky itself, twisting and pulsing and glittering as if it was but a lens of crystal glass that let the celestial vault behind it shine through.

Kristoff sensed danger and cursed when he realized his crossbow was still on the sleigh. But everyone else thankfully shared his instinct; Anna unsheathed her sword with lightning speed, Elsa stepped in front of Olaf and readied her hand with magic, Garret conjured his bow and nocked two arrows on its string.

"Identify yourself," Anna boomed.

"Please, no need for that now, warrior princess." The silhouette had now used Anna's voice. It dropped to the ground, landed with a lot less weight than its gigantesque frame would have suggested, and slightly stirred in Kristoff's direction. "Take example on your companion."

It was something to hear Elsa or Anna speak from under that hood; it was another to hear his own voice break through the filaments of obscurity.

The question slipped past his tongue. "What's that now?"

"Always rushing to arms, these Arendellians," Kristoff's voice continued under the cape. Was that disapproval he could hear?

"You're not the one that called me," Elsa said, her tone sharp and dry. "Who are you?"

The intruder mirrored Elsa's voice perfectly again; and Kristoff had a feeling it did that with everyone it talked to. The stories with changelings the trolls had tucked him to bed with featured similar abilities.

"I believe you know who I am. And I know who you are, Snow Queen. What I would like to know, is what took you so long…"

"Answer her question," Garret growled, vapor leaking out from where his hand was securely gripping his bow.

"Ah, the wild card," the voice answered in an exact replication of his deeper and more accented manner. "Another unknown. I'm curious to see where this little group will take you, Snow Queen. When you reach me, you'll know."

And the silhouette vanished into nothingness, only leaving behind a trail of white shiny dust that dulled into the starry sky soon after.

A rumble echoed from behind them; the veil of thick mist split open, revealing four standing stones that bore diamond-shaped signs he had never seen before.

"We're going in there? Even with what just happened?" Olaf squealed, breaking the silence that had lasted a few seconds.

The assurance in Elsa's voice almost sounded out of place after their latest encounter. "We're going in there."

AN: Thank you for reading!

Gotta be honest, this was a difficult one for me, especially with my new job having me work 50 hrs a week. In terms of pacing and taking a new spin on what happens in the movie, I hope everything turned out okay. You may have noticed I try to skip scenes that aren't changed as much as possible to avoid redundancies. Modifications, yay! Adapting Frozen II is a more tedious job than it can seem, especially with so many little things thrown in there by canon. But as I told you and you probably noticed with this chapter, stuff is gonna change a lot.

Also, in terms of chapter length, it's been a while since my chapters started gravitating around the 7-8-9k mark. I know this is long, I know it takes time to go through. I really appreciate your continued support even more and I'm surprised I still have readers when I see the literal text monstrosities I put out. Thank you to each and every one of you who read, commented, followed, etc. Knowing this story has an impact only makes it easier for me to keep going!

Next chapter's theme is Stone Language by Klaus Badelt from The Time Machine. I never really insist on the chapter themes, but please trust me and lend this one your ear. Magical music, well worth four minutes of your time.

That's all I had for this one! See you next time.

Peace,

CalAm.