Mother
The word echoed across the lake's surface like a stone skipping on water. "Iduna?"
Honeymaren had never heard Yelena's voice crack like that before. The elder stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the pale queen as if seeing a ghost. Her senses flared – Yelena never lost her composure without reason. The raw emotion etched deep lines into her usually stoic face, her mouth agape, her arms hanging forgotten at her side. Honeymaren had never even dared to imagine her chief being surprised by something, let alone being floored in such a fashion. This was the very first time their leader had shown a modicum of vulnerability at anything – and it was in front of Arendellians.
She felt suddenly, acutely aware of the tension humming through the air. Even the gentle lap of waves against the shore seemed to have stilled.
The pale queen took a single step forward, her hands carefully linked, her eyes getting lower with every second.
"You knew our mother."
It wasn't a question, but rather a confirmation that shattered the moment. Honeymaren watched Yelena's expression shift, vulnerability vanishing behind the familiar mask of suspicion—but something else lingered in her eyes, something that set warning bells ringing in her mind.
"Your mother?" Yelena's voice had regained its steel, but a tremor still lurked beneath.
"Queen Iduna of Arendelle," the queen explained. Despite her regal bearing, Honeymaren noticed her hands trembling slightly, and the very shaky smile she displayed. "She... was our mother. I'm Queen of Arendelle. I'm told I resemble her greatly."
The words seemed to land like physical blows on Yelena. Honeymaren saw her barely flinch, heard her breath quicken ever so slightly, caught that little twitch of her fingers. Something flashed across her features before being buried once more – Honeymaren couldn't decide whether it had been pain or disgust.
"Yelena, what's going on?" Honeymaren stepped forward, unable to contain her confusion any longer. "Who was Iduna?"
But Yelena ignored her completely—another warning sign. Her focus remained locked on the queen with an intensity that felt almost dangerous.
"It cannot be," Yelena decided, her eyes narrowed.
The queen exchanged a quick look with her group—mainly with the princess, and that strange foreign soldier. The princess nodded almost immediately, while the soldier, arms crossed and gaze piercing, only raised a single eyebrow. Something passed between them, some silent communication, before the queen raised her hand with careful grace.
Ice crystals materialized above her palm. They split and merged, turned and swayed, caught the filtered sunlight in little touches, broke then found golden rays they had materialized themselves. The display was beautiful, Honeymaren had to admit, but it was the control that impressed her most. This was not spirit magic – it was intentional, fine and measured. If she hadn't known the Arendellians better, she'd have called it civilized. The crystals shifted until they formed a small figure of a young woman who seemed to be the queen with shorter hair and a few more years. The queen presented it, her face softening into a fond smile. She then seemed to remember something, and her brows creased in focus once more. Honeymaren caught the soldier behind her whispering a single word as she… worked? She was unfamiliar with the inner tidings of magic, but she had always imagined it took some sort of effort to use.
The statue morphed, and now showed the same person shorter a foot.
Honeymaren heard Yelena's sharp intake of breath. Saw her hands clench at her sides. The chief stepped closer, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her hand reached out as if to touch the ice figure but stopped short, trembling slightly.
"Magic..." she whispered. " You shape it, control it..." Her gaze darted between the statue and the queen's face, searching for something.
"If that is the Iduna you think of, I am indeed her daughter." She turned towards the princess, extended a hand that was immediately caught. "We both are."
"She made it," the elder whispered, and there was something like wonder in her voice. "She truly escaped." But that uncharacteristic weakness expired, and her eyes hardened once more. She stood taller, the revelation's impact seemingly passed. "But that doesn't mean I can trust you. Arendelle's treachery cut deep, and ice tricks do not prove your intentions. I'm guessing this is why you asked me here, Honeymaren?"
She nodded in response. Yelena could use the lake's water to compel truth – that was the main reason she'd been chosen to be village chief.
"We understand," the princess said, moving protectively closer to her sister. Something about her stance reminded Honeymaren of herself with Ryder. "But we're here because something's wrong. A voice called to Elsa—"
"A voice?"
The shift in Yelena's tone made Honeymaren's spine stiffen. There was a fear there that felt wrong, almost feverish. The elder's usual caution seemed to be warring with some deeper emotion, some need that overrode her typical restraint.
"Like the wind carrying a song?" Yelena pressed, taking a step closer.
"Yes," the queen confirmed. Her voice carried a note of desperate hope. "Did... did our mother hear it too?"
Honeymaren watched as Yelena's gaze drifted to the lake's unnaturally still surface. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken things. Every instinct Honeymaren possessed screamed that something was very, very wrong here.
When the elder finally spoke, her voice was distant, as if speaking from memory.
"I will not answer that question." Her eyes remained fixed on the water. "But if you truly wish to prove yourselves, there is a way."
A chill ran down Honeymaren's spine before Yelena even finished her sentence. The way she had said it did not sit well with her. And she knew what usually came after not liking a Yelena sentence.
"The water spirit can test the truth of your words."
"The Nokk?" The alarm in Honeymaren's voice cut through the air. "Yelena, you can't be serious. I brought them here for your test. Not the Nokk's."
She had seen what the water spirit could do. Had seen half-drowned fools pulled from the lake's depths, had been haunted for two days by the screams of one who almost didn't make it to shore. Yelena was one of the few who could tap into its blessings with sacred water – but it had always remained just that, a tap. Her test was not perfectly accurate, but it was harmless. The Nokk didn't suffer lies—or liars–of any capacity, and it was as merciless as a storm. Not even their criminals were thrown into the lake.
"I am." Yelena stepped closer to the water's edge, and something about her movement felt almost ceremonial. "When someone enters its sacred domain, it judges their heart. Those who speak truth may pass." Her voice grew cold. "Those who lie... pass."
"They're drowned! I thought you'd have them drink a sip and do your usual thing!" Honeymaren finished with a higher voice than she intended, letting go of proper decorum for a moment. She looked between Yelena and the Arendellians, fear churning in her gut. The queen's face had gone still, but her sister and guard had shifted closer to her, protective. "This is madness. I'm all for not cutting Arendellians any slack, but intentionally drowning them–"
"This is not your decision to make," Yelena cut her off with unusual sharpness, authority clear in her voice. "The Nokk is already here. It is waiting."
The rebuke stung, and Honeymaren reflexively snapped to attention. Yelena was never soft, but she was never hostile either. It was frightening but more than that, it was worrying. She had always valued her counsel, had taught her to speak up when something felt wrong. This dismissal was yet another sign that she wasn't thinking clearly. The surface of water had flattened to an unnatural degree – the spirit was indeed awaiting its next candidate.
The soldier moved closer to his queen, his stance casual but ready. Honeymaren recognized the pose of someone prepared to move at a moment's notice. "And what exactly would this trial prove?"
"That they are who they claim to be. That their intentions are pure." Yelena's eyes fixed on the queen with that same unsettling intensity. "That they truly seek to help, not harm."
"Never in a million years," the princess declared, physically stepping between her sister and the water. Honeymaren's eyes darted to the sword dangling at her side. "We're not letting Elsa—"
"I'll do it."
The queen's voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. Everyone turned to stare at her. She stood straight-backed and composed, though her hands had gone back to being tightly clasped.
"Elsa, no," her sister pleaded, and Honeymaren heard real fear in her voice. "I'm not letting you try your luck with a drowning spirit inside a lake."
"I'm afraid we don't have a choice." The queen's voice was soft but firm. "If we want their help, if we want to understand what's happening... we need trust. Real trust." She gave her sister's hand a quick squeeze and an unconvincing half-smile, then looked towards Yelena. "I accept your trial."
Her guard's jaw tightened visibly. "Your Majesty—"
"I know what you're going to say," she interrupted gently, her fingers coming to rest on his forearm. "Both of you. But I have to do this." She attempted another smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Besides, water's just unfrozen ice, isn't it?"
The poor attempt at humor seemed to distress her sister even more. The princess put a clamped knuckle on her sword's hilt. "Then I'm going with you."
"No." The queen's voice gained an edge of demand. "It is not necessary. Any question you could answer, I can."
Honeymaren watched the exchange with mounting unease. The devotion between the sisters was obvious—which made this all the more dangerous. If something went wrong, that sword would be problematic, and the guard didn't look like he'd go down easily either.
Nevermind the hulking reindeer whisperer...
She studied Yelena, trying to understand what could drive her usually prudent leader to risk such consequences.
"The water must be deep enough," Yelena was already saying, leading them along the shoreline. "The spirit requires space to fully manifest."
As they followed, Honeymaren barely registered the continued protests from the princess, or the queen's quiet but firm responses. Her attention was on Yelena, on the way the older woman's eyes kept returning to the queen with an almost desperate ache.
Whoever this Iduna was, her memory held enough power to override Yelena's caution and wisdom. And that, Honeymaren knew from bitter experience, was when people made their most dangerous mistakes. She could only pray they wouldn't pay for this one with a life.
The queen approached the lake's edge with deliberate steps, after one final resigned nod by her sister. Her composed expression couldn't quite hide the way her hands trembled before she clasped them together. She paused at the water line, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
The first ripple barely disturbed the surface—it was as if the lake absorbed her presence, welcoming her in with unnatural silence. Each careful step sent only the faintest shivers across the water, the circles dying mere inches away from where they formed.
Honeymaren watched as the queen waded deeper, her purple and black dress floating around her like ink in water. Despite her measured pace, there was tension in her shoulders, a slight stiffness to her movements that spoke of discomfort.
"Are you okay, Elsa?" The princess's worried voice carried across the water.
The queen turned partially, offering what was clearly meant to be a reassuring smile. "Not really, Anna."
Smart woman.
Had she not answered truthfully, she'd already had been dragged underwater. Honeymaren noticed how she shifted almost imperceptibly, as if trying to adjust to the water's touch. Her breaths had grown shallow, and tiny furrows appeared between her brows.
"Not used to cold water?" Honeymaren found herself asking.
"It's too warm, actually," the soldier answered in a low voice, his forced air of comfort betrayed by the intensity of his gaze as it followed the queen's progress. "This..." he gestured vaguely with his chin at the lake. "…is probably like stepping into bath water for her."
The queen stopped when the water reached her waist, the dark fabric of her dress spreading around her like petals. The lake's surface settled into perfect stillness, as if waiting. Even the usual buzzing the forest hummed continuously had paused, leaving only the sound of the queen's careful breathing.
Honeymaren had seen the lake countless times, but never like this. The water stopped being water, the usual play of light across its surface replaced by an almost mirror-like sheen. It was beautiful, but in the way a snake's scales were beautiful.
The silence stretched until it felt like a physical weight. The queen remained motionless, though Honeymaren could see the subtle signs of her discomfort—the too-straight spine, the slightly too-rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers flexed and curled in front of her chest.
Finally, Yelena stepped forward.
"State your name."
Her voice rang clear across the water, carrying the weight of ceremony.
"Elsa Arnadalr." The response was steady, yet somehow fragile against the unnatural quiet. The water remained still around her, not a single ripple betraying the spirit's presence.
Honeymaren felt her muscles tense. Usually, the Nokk would have shown itself by now, even if only to observe. This patience was... unsettling.
"Tell me who you are."
The queen took a moment before answering, as if weighing her words. "I'm... the Seventh Queen of Arendelle, firstborn daughter of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna." Just as Honeymaren sensed annoyance at her fake diplomatic tone, her voice grew softer. "Sister to Princess Anna. Future sister-in-law to Kristoff. Dear friend to Garret, Olaf and Sven."
Honeymaren glimpsed at the soldier and saw him smile at that – he had just been lumped with a reindeer and a talking snowman, but it didn't seem to bother him.
Still nothing. No disturbance in the waters, no sign of movement beneath the surface. Only that eerie calm that made Honeymaren's skin prickle.
"Where do you come from?"
"Arendelle. I was born in the castle." The queen's hands twitched. "Though I spent most of my childhood in isolation. My powers were... difficult to control."
For the first time, something flickered beneath the surface—so brief Honeymaren might have imagined it. But Yelena must have seen it too; her next question came faster, more urgent.
"And these powers—where did they come from?"
"I was born with them." The queen's voice wavered slightly, uncertainty creeping in. "I never knew why. My parents..." She swallowed. "They never knew either. They kept searching, but it proved fruitless."
The water rippled around her waist, a single circular wave that died as quickly as it formed. Honeymaren heard the princess draw a sharp breath, saw the guard's hand flex open and call his ice bow, his eyes hardening.
"Why are you here?"
"A voice called." The queen lifted her chin, conviction replacing her earlier hesitation. "It showed me visions—of this forest, of the spirits." Another ripple, stronger this time. "Something's wrong here. The spirits are angry. I need to understand why, to help if I can. We do not mean harm."
The surface went perfectly still once more. The spirit was listening, measuring, judging—she'd seen this before. But it never took so long to make its decision.
She caught the slight widening of Yelena's eyes and knew what was coming even before the elder opened her mouth for the next question. The real test was about to begin.
"You mentioned a voice." Something changed in Yelena's tone—a new weight, an edge of reverence. "Did it speak of treason?"
The surface of the lake shivered at the name. Honeymaren saw the queen's eyes widen slightly, felt the sudden tension in the air.
"No," Elsa answered. "It didn't speak at all—" She broke off with a small gasp as the water around her waist suddenly churned, small waves swirling against her dress.
"What do you seek?"
"Truth." The queen's voice grew stronger despite the growing disturbance in the waters. "About my powers, about this forest. About why the spirits are angry."
The lake's surface rippled in expanding circles now, but strangely contained—as if something large moved beneath, circling the queen's position. Honeymaren saw the guard's free knuckle tighten then conjure an arrow head, saw the princess take an involuntary step forward and pull an inch of her sword out with her thumb.
"And what are your intentions for this forest?" Yelena pressed, either oblivious to or unconcerned by the water's increasing agitation.
"To help. To understand what went wrong and make it right if I can." The queen remained immobile despite the movement around her, though her breathing had quickened. The water was now moving endlessly around her, the waves growing. "Something drove the spirits to seal this place away. Something my grandfather—"
The water surged suddenly, a bubble collapsing and falling too quickly to be natural. When it settled, the surface was mirror-smooth once more, but Honeymaren could see shadows moving in the depths.
Yelena's final question cut through the tense silence like a knife: "Would you defend this forest against Arendelle?"
"I—" The queen's composure cracked for the first time. She threw a look at her family. "I don't know. I would like to try to find–"
But whatever she meant to say was lost as the lake erupted in a crystalline cascade, coalescing into a form that seemed to drink in what little light filtered through the mist. The Nokk stood before the queen, its body fluid yet solid, its mane flowing like rapids over its flank. As it lowered its massive head to her level, its eyes blazed with an ethereal blue glow that reflected off the waters around them.
A sharp whisper of steel and ice—the princess' sword was unsheathed, the soldier had nocked an arrow, his frozen bow now firmly lifted and aimed. The careful casualness was gone from his stance, replaced by coiled tension. His eyes tracked the spirit's every movement, arrow following its path.
"Elsa!" the princess' panicked voice shattered the silence. "Elsa, get out of there!"
The Nokk towered over the queen, its presence overwhelming at such close range. Honeymaren saw the queen's throat bob as she swallowed, saw the slight tremor in her hands as the spirit's glowing eyes bore into her.
Honeymaren held her breath. She had seen the water spirit before, but never this close, never so... deliberate. It circled the queen slowly, each step sending more ripples that died too fast against the lake's surface. The spirit's gaze never left Elsa's face, studying her with an intensity that seemed almost predatory.
Steam began curling off the soldier's shoulders, his breath visible despite the ambient mist. Ice crackled along his bow as he tracked the spirit's movements, but he held his shot.
"That's it!" the princess suddenly cried out. She rushed forward into the water—and was instantly blasted back by a powerful jet that seemed to come from the lake itself. The burst of water struck her square in the chest, launching her several feet backward where she landed with a wet splat.
"Anna!" The queen almost turned but caught herself.
The reindeer rider was already at the princess' side, helping her up as she sputtered and coughed.
"I'm okay! I'm fine!" She tried to step forward again but her feet slipped in the mud, the rider barely catching her. "Elsa—"
"Please let me handle this!" the queen took a shaky breath, then straightened. When she spoke, her voice grew steadier with each word. "I know you're angry. I know something is wrong—with the forest, with the spirits." The Nokk's ears pricked forward again. "I can feel it. Just as I can feel that you need help."
The spirit snorted, sending a spray of water into the air that hung suspended longer than it should have. But it didn't strike.
"I don't know if I'm the one who can fix this," the queen continued, her confidence building but tempered with humility. "But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to try."
The Nokk's head lowered until its muzzle nearly touched her face. Those ethereal eyes studied her for what felt like an eternity, judging the truth of her words, then the entire form reared up suddenly, its liquid mass doubling in size. Its front hooves hung in the air, crystalline water running off its body in impossible patterns. Honeymaren heard the princess' cry of alarm, saw the soldier's bow draw fully taut as steam seemed to gather at the tip of his arrow, the temperature around him dropping sharply.
The spirit's hooves crashed down—but instead of striking, they dissolved into a torrent that engulfed the queen completely. Water swirled around her in a perfect spiral, lifting her slightly off the lakebed before completely submerging her.
For a heart-stopping moment, the queen disappeared beneath the deluge. Then it all fell away like a curtain, leaving her standing exactly where she had been, soaked but unharmed. Her eyes were wide with lingering awe, chest heaving with quick breaths. The Nokk had vanished, the lake's surface returning to its usual gentle movement as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
"The spirit has judged," Yelena announced, her voice a strange mix of surprise and… pride? "Your words are true."
The queen waded back to shore with measured steps. Despite being drenched from head to toe, she moved with renewed purpose, a subtle shift in her composure that spoke of restored confidence. Her sister immediately wrapped her in a tight embrace, checking her for injuries while rapid-fire whispers passed between them.
The soldier lowered his bow, the steam around him dissipating, though his eyes continued scanning the lake's surface. His ice-coated weapon slowly melted away into a flurry of twinkling mist, when he came to check on his queen with the rider. She gently pat his arm in response.
But the queen's attention had already moved past the fussing surrounding her. Her gaze fixed on Yelena with quiet intensity as she gently disentangled herself from the princess' arms.
"Now it's my turn for questions," she said, and there was something new in the strength of her voice. Some droplets still dripped from her braid, but she stood tall, shoulders squared. "Starting with how you knew our mother."
Honeymaren saw something flicker in Yelena's eyes—but couldn't exactly pinpoint what.
"Iduna was one of us," the elder said simply.
"We kinda figured that out already." The princess stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Our mother was Northuldra and she came to Arendelle with our father at the end of the war. New stuff would be appreciated."
"Indeed. She was more than just one of us." Yelena's voice grew distant, lost in memory. "She was hope. A bridge between our peoples, before..." Her hands clenched. "Before your grandfather destroyed everything."
The queen's breath caught. "What do you mean? What really happened here?"
Honeymaren watched the emotions war on Yelena's face—old anger, deep sorrow, and something else. Something that looked almost like longing as she gazed at the two sisters who carried Iduna's blood.
"Perhaps," Yelena said finally, "it would suit us better to discuss in our village."
She didn't wait for an answer, and didn't seem to care much for Honeymaren's stunned expression as she pivoted. She started walking, stopping a few paces ahead.
"Iduna was my first pupil."
The queen stopped mid-stride, her still-dripping dress clinging to her legs. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. First pupil. Even Honeymaren hadn't known that Yelena had taken pupils.
"Wait," the princess called out. "You taught our mother?"
Yelena didn't turn. She simply resumed her walk. "I taught her many things. But that is not a discussion for open ground. Come."
The queen exchanged a quick glance with her soldier. His slight nod encouraged her to press on. As they followed Yelena through the crimson-leaved forest, Honeymaren fell into step beside them, her earlier wariness somewhat tempered – at least the Arendellians didn't look to harm them. Caution was still needed, but there was no immediate danger.
"The village isn't far," she said, her shoulders less tense than when the whole ordeal started. "Though I should warn you – you might not be looking at a very warm welcome."
"We also kinda figured that out already," the rider muttered. "Suspicious looks are my favorite."
The princess kissed his hand. "Hey, at least no one's pointing spears at us anymore."
"The day's still young," the soldier remarked dryly.
Anna's grip tightened on Blue's hilt as they approached the village entrance. A dozen warriors stood in formation, spears leveled and faces hard with an entire generation's worth of distrust. Their traditional clothing couldn't hide the obvious combat training in their stances – these weren't just villagers playing soldiers.
This is going wonderfully.
"You know what, I would have taken the suspicious looks," Kristoff said, his hands wrapping tighter around Sven's antler on one side and Anna's free hand on the other.
"Elsa," Garret's voice came low from behind them. "I spoke too quickly. We should rethink this."
Her sister slowed her pace, falling back slightly. "I'm afraid it's too late. Could you try to appear… a tiny bit less threatening?"
"What, should I give them a little twirl? I'm your guard." His tone carried a note of stubborn pride that made Anna suppress a smile despite their situation. "That's literally the opposite of my job."
Elsa's voice softened. "Please. No weapons, no ice, no..." she looked at him, her own smile a mix of fond and concerned. "…intimidating poses."
"I don't do intimidating poses."
Anna couldn't help herself. "You're doing one right now."
He blinked, seeming to realize how his hands were fastened into knuckles, how his shoulders were squared and how his entire torso jerked forward in what was definitely an intimidating pose. With visible reluctance, he let his arms relax and adjusted his stance.
"Fine," he muttered. "But if anyone so much as—"
"I'm sure they won't," Elsa assured him, though Anna noticed her sister's hands were clasped tightly together. She wasn't certain either.
"Why are you not asking me not to look threatening?" Kristoff asked.
"Oh baby bear, the only way you could threaten anyone is if they're at your right being pursued by a pack of wolves", Anna half-joked, her fingers giving his a reassuring squeeze.
As they drew closer, Anna could make out more details of their welcome party. A woman who couldn't be much older than herself stood at the warriors' center, her sharp eyes fixed on their approaching group. The intricate patterns on her clothing marked her as someone of importance.
"That's Honeymaren's brother," Kristoff murmured, nodding toward a familiar face among the warriors. Ryder's scowl could have curdled milk.
"Yelena," the woman at the center called out. "Are you certain about this?"
"They have passed the Nokk's test, Birki," Yelena answered, her tone brooking no argument. "They will not be harmed."
"The spirits could have been fooled by her magic," Ryder spoke up, "but we remember what their grandfather did."
Anna felt Elsa tense beside her. Before her sister could respond, Yelena's voice cracked like a whip.
"And I remember what their mother did for us. Stand aside."
The command in her voice was absolute. After a moment of heavy silence, Birki raised her hand and the warriors parted, creating a path into the village. Their spears remained ready, but whispers now buzzed left and right, and Anna could make out a few Idunas here and there.
"Well," Anna murmured as they passed between the armed ranks, "Now's usually the part where we get jumped."
"Don't jinx it," Kristoff muttered back.
The further they walked into the village, the more Anna felt the weight of hostile stares. Women gathered children close, men gripped tools that could easily become weapons. The same whispers followed them like angry wasps:
"Runeard's blood..." "Conquerors…" "Ice witch..."
That last one made Anna's blood boil, but Elsa's gentle touch on her arm kept her from saying something decidedly un-diplomatic. Her sister maintained a mask of calm, though Anna could see the hurt in her eyes.
A small child broke free from his mother's grasp, running up to stare at them with not a single care and all the wows he could muster. The mother's terrified gasp as she snatched him back felt like a punch to the gut.
"Here," Yelena announced, stopping in front of a large tent in what appeared to be the village center. Intricate designs decorated its exterior, and smoke rose from a small vent at its peak. "We can speak privately inside."
As they ducked through the entrance, Anna heard Ryder's voice behind them: "We should have guards on every corner of that tent."
"Ryder," Honeymaren warned, but he continued.
"They're still Arendellians. His blood."
Anna watched Elsa's shoulders slump slightly at the venom in his voice. She reached for her sister's hand, squeezing gently.
We'll prove them wrong, she tried to convey. We're not… whatever he did.
They settled onto the cushions Yelena indicated, arranging themselves carefully in the unfamiliar space. Anna noticed Garret position himself slightly behind them, closer to the door, his relaxed pose not quite hiding his readiness. For all his grumbling, he'd kept his word about appearing non-threatening – though she doubted anyone was fooled.
The inside of the tent was surprisingly warm and well-furnished. Woven tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes Anna didn't recognize.
"This is our history," Yelena said, her fingers tracing the intricate edges of the first tapestry. The deep burgundy threads showed hunters pursuing what looked like a horned bear beneath an unnaturally bright moon. "The great hunts, when we first learned to survive these woods. Every kill was blessed, every life honored."
She moved to the next one, where gold and silver threads intertwined to show a circle of people bowing before four distinct shapes – a horse made of water, a burning horned bear, an eagle with tornadoes for wings, and a massive earthen golem. "The first accord with the spirits. They tested us, as the Nokk tested you. Found us worthy of sharing their forest."
Anna followed along the wall, taking in each scene. The next tapestry showed the same four spirits gathered around an enormous tree, its branches reaching toward swirling patterns of light above. The detail was incredible – she could make out individual leaves in shades of green and gold. "The birth of the forest itself," Yelena explained. "When the spirits first blessed this land."
Elsa had stopped moving. Anna turned to see what had caught her attention and found both her sister and Garret transfixed by a tapestry that seemed to glow in the tent's dim light. Unlike the others, this one used threads of pale blue and white, creating an ethereal effect. The central figure – a woman with dark hair, Anna thought, though it was hard to tell – stood with arms raised while serpentine patterns of light coiled around her. The designs were hauntingly familiar.
"That looks like..." Elsa started.
"Spirit magic," Yelena finished. "Though I suspect you recognize it as something else."
Garret stepped closer, studying the intricate swirls. "These patterns here, and here." He pointed to where the lights twisted into crystalline shapes. "They're close to how Elsa's magic moves. Not exactly it, but close enough to double check. Even the way it fractures light..." He looked at Elsa for approval, then glanced at his own hand at her nod. "Mine doesn't do the same thing."
"It doesn't?"
Yelena's question came with Anna's realization that people usually didn't know Garret had similar powers. She answered when he acquiesced, her brows furrowed.
"That's... an unknown. The spirits' magic flows like water, burns like fire, moves like wind. But ice..." She shook her head. "And you, soldier – your powers appeared later?"
"When I was four."
"Around the time Elsa was born," Anna added.
Yelena's eyes narrowed slightly. "That... should not be possible. Spirit magic isn't something that can be shared or transferred. It simply is." She turned back to the tapestry, studying it as if betrayed by something ancient.
The final piece was darker, using deep purple threads shot through with silver. It showed a bridge of pure light spanning between four distinct symbols – a diamond, a flame, a spiral, and what looked like a mountain peak. At the bridge's center was a fifth symbol Anna didn't recognize, but it seemed to pulse with its own subtle luminescence.
"The Bridge. The Fifth Spirit, who walks between worlds. Between magic and nature, mortality and eternity," Yelena said softly, reverence clear in her voice. "We call it Ahtola."
"Ahtola?" Elsa's voice trembled slightly. "Is it… Can it be related to something called Ahtohallan?"
Yelena's eyes went to her. "Where did you hear that?"
"It was given to us by trolls. And... it was in Mother's journal."
"The name she was searching for," Anna added, the pieces starting to click together. The mysterious word that had sent them to the library for hours, that had preceded the spirits' attack on Arendelle...
Yelena's hand fell from the tapestry.
"Your mother remembered my teachings well," she said, the ghost of a smile slipping past her lips. "Ahtohallan would be its castle, its refuge. A secluded place, suspended in time. We know it exists, but we don't know where it is. We feel Ahtola's absence. The forest, it remembers. The spirits remember. And now..." Her eyes were fixed on Elsa. "Now they call. Though why your magic manifests through ice..." She shook her head again. "Unfortunately, no one has seen Ahtola, not in living memory."
"Actually..." Anna rubbed the back of her neck, an embarrassed smile creeping onto her face. "I think we might have... met it? At the forest entrance?"
The tent fell into absolute silence. Even the bustling sounds of the village outside seemed muted. Anna couldn't shake the feeling that the entire Northuldra tribe was probably following their conversation one way or another.
Yelena stared at Anna like she'd just claimed the moon was made of wood.
"You what?"
"Well, there was this really tall person, spirit… thing in dark clothes," Anna continued, her hands starting to gesture in vague strokes as she warmed to her story. "Used all our voices – which was super creepy by the way – and knew about Elsa, and kept being all mystical and cryptic about 'when you reach me you'll know' and stuff like that..."
"Wait." Yelena's easy-to-guess-was-a-staple composure had completely evaporated. She looked almost dizzy, her hands gripping the edge of a nearby cushion. "You're telling me the Fifth Spirit – Ahtola itself – manifested before you at the entrance?"
"To be fair," Kristoff chimed in, shifting uncomfortably under her intense stare, "we didn't know what it was. It was just... really tall and kind of scary? Like a shadow that somehow caught all the sky behind it?"
"And sparkly," Olaf added from his spot between Anna's feet. "Don't forget the sparkles. Though I have to say, for an ancient mystical being, its dramatic exit could use some work. Just kind of... poof!" He demonstrated with his little stick arms. "Gone. Very last season."
Yelena sank onto a cushion, looking like she needed a very strong drink. Her eyes darted between them all as if searching for any sign they were playing some elaborate joke. "The Fifth Spirit has not taken physical form before any of us in centuries. Centuries. Our oldest stories speak of such encounters, but..." She shook her head in disbelief. "And it just... appeared? Spoke to you directly?"
"It mainly riddled and disappeared into starlight," Garret said. "Called me a 'wild card', whatever that means."
"It seemed particularly interested in Elsa," Anna added. "Called her 'Snow Queen' – which, okay, accurate, but still weird coming from a giant shadow person."
"It said we'd know when we reached it," Elsa said quietly. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. "We do not know what 'it' refers to, though I'm starting to suspect it meant Ahtohallan."
Yelena was still staring at them with a mixture of awe and utter bewilderment. When she spoke, her voice carried a weight of decades. "Thirty years we've been trapped in this forest. Thirty years of prayers, ceremonies, offerings... our most gifted spiritual leaders have begged for guidance, for any sign..." She gestured helplessly at them. "And it appears to you within minutes of arriving."
Anna winced, suddenly very aware of how this must sound to someone who'd spent their life serving the spirits. "Sorry? If it helps, it wasn't a very long conversation. Mostly just cryptic warnings and..." She trailed off as Yelena raised a hand, looking like she needed a moment to process.
"After all this time... " Yelena murmured, almost to herself. Her eyes focused sharply on Elsa. "And it called to you specifically. The Fifth Spirit itself... You, who manifests a spirit gift so differently..."
Anna couldn't stop her thoughts from coming out too fast. "Wouldn't it be the First Spirit?" Every head present snapped to her, and she also heard a few strangled coughs outside. "I mean, it sounds pretty important, why give it a number that basically means 'last'?"
Yelena's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
"That's..." She cleared her throat. "That's not..."
"Anna does have a point," Kristoff said, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Garret. "What? She does! Why is it the Fifth?"
"Because..." Yelena seemed to be struggling to find her usual authoritative tone. "Because it bridges the other four... It's always been the Fifth..."
"Anna, please..." Elsa tried to sound stern.
"Alright, alright. I'm just saying I would have called it Prime Spirit or something like that."
"Prime Spirit does have an interesting ring to it."
Anna heard the booming voice, then the gasps – sharp intakes of breath from what sounded like dozens of throats at once. Then came the sudden silence, heavier than any she'd experienced before.
"Your Majesty..." Garret's voice was tight with urgency. He was already gathering his mist, eyes fixed on the tent's entrance. The usual casualness had vanished from his stance entirely.
Through the tent's walls, Anna saw shadows of people backing away from something, their movements jerky with fear or awe – she couldn't tell which. A strange light filtered through the hide coverings, too bright and too cold to be the afternoon sun.
They rushed outside just as the very air seemed to change. The warmth drained away as if winter had descended in an instant. The first thing Anna noticed was the light – motes of starlight drifting upward like inverse snowfall, gathering and weaving together in the plaza's center. They climbed higher and higher, each point of light finding its place in that familiar towering silhouette.
The reaction rippled through the crowd like a wave. Spears clattered against the ground as hardened warriors dropped their weapons. Those who had been glaring at them with suspicion now fell to their knees before the apparition, heads bowed. Ryder's mouth hung open, all traces of hostility replaced by raw shock. Even Honeymaren, who had seemed unshakeable until now, stood frozen in place.
Yelena dropped into a deep bow visibly as soon as her surprise allowed, her forehead nearly touching the ground. Around the plaza, every single Northuldra followed suit as if pulled by invisible strings. Children clung to their parents. Elders trembled. The only ones left standing were Elsa's group – and Anna noticed her sister's hands weren't shaking.
The being's robes, woven from the night sky itself, shifted with star patterns and cosmic dust.
When it spoke, it used every voice they'd heard it take – Elsa's, Anna's, Garret's, Kristoff's, and others they didn't recognize. The voices layered into an impossible chorus that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"The Waters of Truth bow to you for now, Snow Queen." The being moved like the surface of a disturbed pond, starlight patterns shifting and realigning. "But the path to my shores holds greater trials still."
Anna felt Kristoff's hand find hers, squeezing gently. The temperature had dropped so low she could see her breath, yet Elsa stood unfazed, her eyes fixed on the ethereal figure.
"Each spirit guards a truth," Ahtola continued, and now it used Elsa's voice alone. "Each barrier holds a key. The spirits led the way, but their trust is as fluid as their form. It must be earned anew with each crossing."
The being's massive form seemed to grow even taller, its robes expanding outward until they nearly brushed the nearest tents. The Northuldra remained prostrated, though Anna caught several of them trembling – whether from cold or fear, she couldn't tell.
"And the others..." Now it spoke with four voices at once, each one ancient and powerful, weaving together in haunting harmony. "They have waited long to test a worthy soul. Fire burns in the heart of the forest, yearning to judge. Earth slumbers beneath your feet, dreaming of awakening. Wind shifts with excitement. Water whispers of trials yet to come."
"I seek only truth," Elsa said, her voice clear and strong against the otherworldly chorus. Something in her had changed – she stood straighter, more confident than Anna had seen her in weeks. "About my powers, about this forest, about what happened here."
The figure's hood tilted slightly, and though it had no visible face, Anna could have sworn it smiled. When it spoke again, it used a single voice – one that sounded like an old man's impression of a hardy leader.
"Truth," it echoed, the word carrying weight of millennia. "Truth can burn as surely as it cleanses. Truth can shatter mountains and shake the very foundations of what you believe." Stars swirled faster within its robes. "Are you certain that is what you seek, daughter of two?"
That last phrase seemed to puzzle her for a fraction of a second, but she recovered just as fast. "I am."
Several Northuldra lifted their heads slightly, wonder replacing fear in their expressions.
"Then know this." Ahtola's form began to shift, its edges becoming less distinct as points of light started to drift away. "The Fire Spirit stirs in its ancient chambers, sensing your presence. It will find you when the moon is highest, when shadows are longest and flames burn brightest."
The figure was dissolving now, each word carrying more power as its physical form scattered. "Your heart holds ice, Snow Queen. You say you seek truth..." It used every voice it had taken for its final words, the chorus building to an overwhelming crescendo. "...ice will have to withstand the inferno of truth."
Then it unraveled completely, streams of starlight shooting upward through the crimson canopy until the last mote disappeared into the afternoon sky. The temperature began to rise again, though the chill lingered in Anna's bones.
The silence that followed was absolute. No bird called, no leaf rustled. Anna could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. In that moment, looking at the mix of terror and wonder on the faces around them, she finally understood just what they had stumbled into. This wasn't just about Elsa's powers anymore, or even about their mother's past.
This was something ancient. Something bigger than all of them.
And it had chosen her sister.
Slowly, the Northuldra began to rise from their positions of reverence. The awe on their faces had transformed into something else as they looked at Elsa – not quite acceptance yet, but no longer hostility. Even Ryder's scowl had been replaced by an expression of uncertainty.
Anna winced and waved as innocently as she could when some eyes detached from Elsa and started wandering towards her. "Off to a great start, I guess?"
Garret watched from his position near one of the communal fires as Anna made her third attempt of the evening to engage with a group of Northuldran women. Her smile was bright as ever, but he could see the strain around its edges.
"So... that embroidery looks really nice! Is that a satin stitch, or...?"
The women exchanged fearful glances and gathered their things, moving away without a word. Anna's shoulders slumped slightly before she straightened, already scanning for her next potential conversation partner, the two not-so-discreet Northuldran soldiers tailing her moving a tad closer.
"And I don't suppose you guys wanna share a drink?" she said, with a careful smile over her shoulder.
Again, no answer. She simply sighed and continued onward.
She never gives up, Garret thought with a mix of admiration and sympathy. After Ahtola's appearance, the open hostility had faded, but in its place was something almost worse – a wall of careful distance, as if the Northuldra couldn't quite decide how to treat these strangers chosen by their most sacred spirit.
His eyes drifted to where Elsa sat alone at the edge of the gathering, her legs tucked under her. She'd been quiet since the encounter, more pensive than usual. The firelight caught in her hair, making it shimmer almost like Ahtola's starlight had.
Oh, Elsa... Let's get you out of that head of yours.
He approached carefully, making sure his footsteps were audible enough not to startle her. "Mind some company?"
She looked up and immediately shifted to make room beside her – her smile stole his heart yet another time. As soon as he sat down, she imperceptibly held her shoulder closer to his – a rare public display that spoke volumes about her current state of mind.
"You've been thinking too loud," he said softly. "I could hear it from across the plaza."
That earned him a quiet laugh. "Was I that obvious?"
"To someone who knows what to look for, you're always obvious." He studied her profile in the flickering light, concerned by the tension he saw there. "Want to talk?"
Elsa was quiet for a moment, her fingers absently tapping on her thigh. "It's... overwhelming. All of this." Her hand gestured vaguely at their surroundings. "Finding out about Mother, about who she was..." Her voice caught slightly. "She grew up here, Garret. Played in these spaces, learned from these people. And we never knew."
"She must have had her reasons," he said gently. "Arendellian and Northuldran relations seem to be about as bad outside as they are here… I don't think families of disappeared soldiers would have reacted well to their Queen being Northuldra."
"I know. But still..." She drew a shaky breath, pressing an inch closer to him. "I have so many questions. About her, about this place, about our powers. Yelena knew her, taught her, she called our magic spirit gifts..." Her gaze drifted to the large tent where the village elders had been in council since Ahtola's manifestation. "I just want to understand."
"You will." He thought about giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, but remembered where they sat. "One step at a time."
Movement caught his eye – Honeymaren had emerged from between two huts, carrying what looked like fresh bandages. She paused when she saw them, her expression unreadable in the dim light.
"Join us?" Garret called out, keeping his tone casual. "The fire's warm."
Elsa tensed slightly beside him, though she didn't jerk away from him. He could almost feel the wide opening of her eyes and see in the way she started fidgeting how she was fighting the reflex to hide behind his back, afraid of making the wrong move.
Honeymaren shifted on her feet, clearly torn. Her eyes darted between them, then to the villagers still maintaining their careful distance.
"That wouldn't be appropriate," she said finally.
"Because of the scary spirit?" Garret asked, deliberately keeping his voice light. "Or because she looks about as eager as her sister over there?"
"Garret!" Elsa whispered, her eyes flying between his unassuming grin and Honeymaren's perplex raise of brows.
Something in the young Northuldran's expression softened then, though she still looked uncertain. "Because you're..." She seemed to struggle for words. "You're not exactly normal visitors. I don't know what to make of you yet."
"Trust me, they're painfully normal," Garret said. " Pretty terrible at accepting compliments and they have an unhealthy obsession with chocolate."
This time he even got Elsa to gently backhand his forearm.
"I do not!"
Honeymaren's lips twitched. She glanced at the supplies in her arms, then at the fire, clearly weighing her options.
"I need to deliver these to the healers," she said slowly. "I'll... think about it."
"We'll be here," Garret replied.
Honeymaren nodded, and when she disappeared into another tent, Elsa released the breath she'd been holding.
"At least let out some sort of warning next time…" she murmured, then paused to give him a quiet chuckle, her fingers lifting up to her temple for a second. "…thank you."
"For what?"
"Being here. Listening." She heaved a lengthy sigh at that. "And for talking to her. I don't think I would have been able to look at her at all."
He allowed himself a small smile. "Always. And Elsa, I don't think they want to keep you at arms' length. They're still trying to come to terms with the fact that an Arendellian is not an enemy. It also just happens to be the Queen, and Ahto-thing's chosen."
"Ahtola. For spirit's sake, it's a single syllable."
"I'm not a very smart guy."
"Garret… I don't like jokes like that."
"Yeah, sorry."
The fire crackled between them as they settled into one of their comfortable silences, waiting for Honeymaren's return. Across the plaza, Anna had finally managed to get a young child to wave back at her – progress, however small. She looked way too proud not to feel validated in patrolling the area trying her luck for yet another hour.
Honeymaren reappeared not long after, her hands now empty but her face just as closed as before. She kept her distance, positioning herself where the firelight barely reached. Her arms crossed over her chest, her feet firmly planted in the ground.
"So." Her voice was carefully neutral. "I assume you want to know about the other Arendellians?"
"Actually," Garret said, "we'd like to know more about you. About what happened here."
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I... wasn't born when it happened. None of us younglings were." Her eyes drifted to the council tent. "I never knew the little girl, nor that she was called Iduna. But we all know the story."
Elsa sat straighter. "Would you tell us?"
Honeymaren studied them for a long moment.
"It was supposed to be a ceremony. A pact between our peoples." Her voice hardened. "Your grandfather built the dam – a gift, he called it. Though we knew better, we just wanted to trust our new ally. Our first ally. Iduna was chosen to transfer the blessing – just a little token – to show what cooperation between Northuldra and Arendelle could achieve. Arendelle had chosen their prince to receive it – I'm guessing that was your dad. Future, hope and all that. Instead," Honeymaren continued, "Runeard's soldiers attacked. No warning. No cause. Just steel against unsuspecting people who thought they were at a celebration." She uncrossed her arms only to clench her fists at her sides. "Go around the village and you'll notice there aren't many people between fifty and seventy. The spirits reacted. The forest itself rose up. And here we are, thirty years later, still trapped by their anger."
Elsa had gone very still. Garret could feel the temperature dropping around them. He discreetly put his hand over hers, half-expecting her to swat it away, only for her cover it with her other hand and grip it so tightly he almost winced.
"We..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "We had no idea. Our parents never spoke of what happened here. We were told there was a conflict, but..."
"You didn't know?" Honeymaren interrupted. "Any of it?"
"No." Elsa's voice cracked. "All we knew was that our grandfather died here. Nothing about an attack, about the spirits, about who our mother really was... I'm so so—"
Honeymaren cut her off once again with a sharp raise of her right hand.
"Save it." Her tone wasn't unkind, but it was firm. "Apologies mean nothing. We believe in action, in proving worth through deeds." She looked at where the moon was rising. "Though... I'll admit, you've surprised me."
Elsa and Garret exchanged a questioning look.
"You know what we think of Arendellians here. Monsters who betrayed trust, who struck without honor." One hand drifting to a healing burn on her forearm. She shook her head and looked farther into the village, as if ashamed of her next words. "I never imagined... In two days, I've seen an Arendellian risk his life for us, and another willingly face the Nokk's judgment." She let her gaze trail back over them both. "We'll see."
At that, she retreated into the shadows, leaving them alone with the crackling fire. They sat in silence for a moment, and Elsa finally released a long breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she let go of Garret's hand with a quick squeeze.
"I like her," she said quietly, a small smile playing at her lips.
Garret chuckled. "Would it have something to do with the way she protected her little brother this afternoon?" He glanced at where Honeymaren had been standing. "She's as straightforward as Anna with half the humor and twice the common sense."
"And apparently, she tolerates Arendellians now."
"Lucky us." He let his voice carry genuine relief – Elsa didn't need someone doubting. She needed unconditional support. "Though I have a feeling earning her actual trust will be... interesting."
Elsa smiled and gave him one those shoulder pushes he absolutely adored. "We'll just have to try very hard."
AN: "Hey Jimmy, do you think they'll notice it's been 4 years?"
"Nah"
"You sure?"
"Yea"
Anywhooooo... Hi again? Been a while.
I know I said I couldn't promise I'd stick to a schedule, but it turns out 'I'll be back soon' meant 1,460 days.
I kinda got carried away by work and being an adult and stuff and excuses and bla bla and I don't know what to say besides: glad to see you again, and thanks for reading. I again do not promise anything in terms of schedule, but time has been an ally this year, hopefully, it'll continue so. Good thing is that I can't disappoint you more than I already did... right?
As always, anything you have to say is very welcome (if anyone who follows this story's still alive that is)
That's all for now, and I'll see you next time (which should be in less than 1459 days).
Peace,
CalAm.