#did you know cinderblocks weren't invented until after WW1?? or that a normal resting heart rate for adults is ANYWHERE between 60 and 100?

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

So You Can Always Find Me

Couldn’t disappoint @elsa-agdardottir when they’re such a great enabler. Unfortunately the fic in which I want to put the astronomical ring isn’t quite ready to be published yet, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging, especially when you asked so nicely xD. Soft inspired by @vago-art‘s piece here also.

Rating: M

Tags: Blood and Injury, post-Frozen 2 derivative

Words: 4,119

Characters: Anna, Elsa, Olaf, Kristoff, Sven, Nokk, Gale, Earth Giants, Bruni

Hook: “Now we can’t fail,” Kristoff jokes, trying to ease the tension. “He’s counting on us. Literally.”

“And so is Elsa.” Anna looks out into the forest that yawns before them, then digs the ring out of her pocket. She holds it out before them like a compass needle, the flickering hues of her sister’s magic leading them on.

Wind whips past Anna’s cold-numbed ears as Sven picks up speed, galloping across the snowy trail. They couldn’t risk traveling by lantern light, so she and Kristoff were picking their way through the darkness by the gleam of a blue-glowing bauble - a ring with an expanded center that whirls like a pinwheel as they race headlong into the night.

“Stop Kristoff, right here!” The little glint of magic in the center ring has just swung wildly to the left, leaning away from the delicate chain being gripped firmly by Anna’s hand.

She swings herself out of the sleigh before Sven even stops moving, catching herself with one hand on the ground. The magic pulses, dimmer this time.

“Anna?” Olaf’s voice is weak, so unfamiliar in comparison to his normal jubilance. His little stick arm waves above the rail of the sleigh. “Are we here? Did we make it?”

“I... I think so Olaf,” Anna calls back, palming the ring and putting it into her travel cloak. 

“Then I’m coming too,” Olaf says, and she hears him trying to get up.

“Whoa whoa there,” Kristoff warns, laying a hand down into the sleigh. “You stay here. Someone has to make sure Sven doesn’t wander off.” He chucks a thumb over his shoulder and Sven grunts what he thinks about that comment.

“He’s right Olaf, you need to rest.” Anna approaches the side rail, heart squeezing in her chest.

Olaf had started flurrying hours ago.

They’d been preparing for bed. Olaf was picking out a book to read and was reaching above his head, one hand holding his other arm up way high, when he suddenly dropped the book and more came tumbling down after. Anna was about to shake it off as typical Olaf clumsiness when the snowman didn’t immediately burst out of the pile with a laugh. Instead they had to unbury him, and when they did Anna had grabbed Kristoff’s shoulder hard enough to bruise. 

She couldn’t do this again.

Olaf’s snow had turned the color of roadside slush, tossed up by carriage wheels and horse hooves. He did sit up, but slowly, gently, as though he were exhausted. Little snowflakes sloughed off his form and twinkled in the candlelight. Olaf and Anna exchanged a wordless look and Anna had bolted upright, digging in the nightstand drawer for the ring.

The one heavy as a lodestone in her pocket.

She leans over Olaf and kisses him on top of his carrot nose. “You sit tight, we’ll find her,” she sniffs, smiling through her tears. “We’ll be back so quickly you won’t even notice we’re gone. Ten minutes, tops.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Olaf smiles back. Then he started counting backwards from six hundred.

Anna turns away and wipes at her eyes. A warm arm falls over her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. “Now we can’t fail,” Kristoff jokes, trying to ease the tension. “He’s counting on us. Literally.”

“And so is Elsa.” Anna looks out into the forest that yawns before them, then digs the ring out of her pocket. She holds it out before them like a compass needle, the flickering hues of her sister’s magic leading them on.

It had been a gift from Elsa. She’d commissioned it ages ago, soon after the Great Thaw, but the right materials had to be procured, the right master craftsman located, and the right price named. The last part had mattered the least, but the rest were very normal, worldly things and as time passed Elsa had worried the perfect gift would somehow not arrive on an auspicious enough occasion. In the end it was meant to be a birthday gift, but with the events occurring in the third year of their reconnection, Elsa could really see no better time like the present. Elsa had bestowed it on Anna after her coronation ceremony, the castle asleep, Olaf and Kristoff making sure everyone had gotten home for the night. She had hidden it behind her back in a charming black box lined with velvet.

The ring was gold, carved with Arendelle’s famous crocuses and the sunflowers Anna loved so much. Immediately Anna had insisted she put it on, but Elsa stopped her. “Open it,” she said, guiding Anna’s fingers to the multiple, overlapping edges. With a quick flick the ring popped open in the palm of her hand, revealing a free turning, miniature astronomical globe made of smaller, concentric gold rings. They were also engraved: marking signature constellations, runes, and star signs. “And one more thing.” Elsa tapped the ring and Anna saw beads of her magic coalesce to one point, drawn from the metal like rolling beads of water. Elsa stepped to the side, then further away. Anna sat transfixed as the glowing blue orb shifted along golden curves, skipping between rings as it tracked Elsa around the room.

“So you can always find me,” Elsa had said as she placed the ring and its accompanying necklace over Anna’s head.

Now, Anna rebinds the chain around her wrist, the metal cold against her skin, hoping against hope that Elsa had spoken the truth.

This part of the Enchanted Forest is unfamiliar. Dark trees stretch and claw at the overcast sky. Snow crunches underfoot, louder than it ought to. Anna keeps a close eye on the ring, watching for any new signs. Elsa’s personal snowflake spins slowly in the center, silent. They walk without speaking, the quiet around them stifling.

After a few more minutes Kristoff nudges Anna’s shoulder and points ahead. A faint shimmering is coming from the trees a short distance away, winking in and out like fireflies. They dash ahead, coming to an obstacle of unwelcome familiarity. A mist wall billows before them, an opaque curtain taller than the peaks of Arendelle castle, nebulous and shifting with each draft of bitter wind. Anna checks the ring and her heart drops. The magic still urges them onwards, but now their path is blocked.

“What’s all this?” Kristoff nudges a snowdrift with his boot. Footprints are scattered in every direction, twigs are snapped and dead leaves poke through large indents in the snow, as though something warm had lain there. Though it must have been only briefly, because all the footprints led away from the wall, many of them in a hurry. Even more curious was the strange gap between the wall and the prints themselves, as though some force had pushed whoever had been here away and not let them closer.

“I don’t know,” Anna replies, “but I don’t like it. These aren’t Northuldra shoes, they’re too heavy.” A chill went down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Elsa was able to get through this before,” Kristoff scratches the back of his head, “but she’s on the other side now.” He puts his hand up to the mist, not deep enough to bounce back, just enough to let it coat his gloved fingers. Anna understands his frustration. Family -  the weird, lopsidedly happy thing they’ve made over the last few years - is beyond this wall, and behind, fading away in a sleigh, both far from home. And they’re helpless to do anything about it.

“She just,” he makes a whooshing noise while his hand skates upward, “and it lifted. I really hope it wasn’t some spirit thing because I wouldn’t even know where to start trying to find the others.”

“Maybe,” Anna gazes upwards. The edges of the wall dissolve into the clouded night sky, seeming to go on forever. “Or maybe that’s exactly what we need.”

She tentatively pushes her hand forward, cautious of the repulsion effect that seemed to sling things out as quickly as they were slung in. A smile burst forth when, incredibly, the wall didn’t immediately reject her. An opening appears, not as tall or grandiose as the first time, but enough of a tunnel for her to walk through.

“Anna…” Kristoff breathes, voice low in wonder. “How did you do that?”

Anna shrugs sheepishly. “I’m half spirit? Blood related to one? A bridge has two sides?” she offers, but then shakes her head. “I’m not really sure, it was just a feeling. I remember how you and Olaf were repelled by the first wall, but I never actually got to touch it. Elsa did, and the whole thing opened up for us.”

“Well I’m glad it did.” Kristoff extends his arm and gives her the lead, “We should move.”

Anna takes his hand and they enter the tunnel single file, the entrance closing behind them.

Time disappears. They could have walked for seconds or hours, but there was nothing around them that indicated that the outside world as they knew it existed at all. The tunnel continued before them at the same rate that it ended behind them. Then, a blue glow shone from Anna’s cloak. “The ring!” Anna fumbled with cold fingers to pop the device open, and when she succeeded it cast an eerie glow on the walls around them. She holds it up with both hands; it’s brighter than before, and the snowflake spins just a little faster. “Elsa must be close,” Anna says, and takes a step forward.

A section of the ceiling falls like a stone, landing between them in a plume of vapor.

“Kristoff!” Anna whirls, already feeling the skidding of her feet as the mist pushes her away. She sees it pulling at him too, his body already obscured by thick vapor, but in the opposite direction.

“Find her, Anna!” Kristoff yells, trying to cut through the barrier with great scoops of his hands, but to no avail. His voice fades as the distance grows larger and he cups his hands to his mouth, “Bring her home!”

More mist descends and the force is stronger, shoving her along as Anna tries to keep her balance. The ring bobs ahead of her, turning the mist into a galaxy of stars, whistling past her ears. Her journey ends abruptly when Anna is thrust back into the forest at high speed. She takes a moment to steady herself, and puts the ring on her finger, before looking around.

Her throat closes up.

If the forest had seemed dark and full of shadows before, then this was a nightmare.

Large ice walls loom overhead, their edges windswept and sharp. Entire tree trunks are frozen mid-snap, suspended by the thick ice that encases them. Swords, hatchets, lances, and crossbows litter the ground, bolts are buried in trees and ice, and broken against the side of boulders. Helmets sit upturned and waterlogged, banners drip with the acrid smell of seawater. Weapon sheaths, coats, and boots hang from the uppermost branches of trees, wayward and wild in their adornment.

“A fight? Here? And whatever it was,” Anna says, stunned, “it must have been something for the spirits to react so… violently.”

Her pulse has been pounding since she first saw evidence of battle, but now it kicks into high gear because everything: every water trail, trough of upturned dirt, scattered debris, and far flung ice bolt, radiates from a common center, and she knows who she’ll find waiting for her.

“Anna,” she says. “You came.”

And it’s crazy how, after everything she’s seen, after everything she’s been through, what halts Anna in her tracks, freezes her in place the way being an ice statue never did, is the sight of her sister covered in her own blood, on her knees in the center of a clearing of her own making.

Elsa is not well. Her eyes are clouded and she cradles her middle. Her dress bleeds red, the hems sodden with it. Between her arms are tiny rivers of her life, slipping across her forearms and pooling at the crooks of her elbows.

Anna sprints forward, skidding to a halt on her knees before Elsa, kicking up snow and dirt. Her hands hover everywhere and nowhere, unsure where to begin.

“How did you know where to find me?” Elsa lifts her head, and it takes effort. “The mist wall… the spirits… We couldn't find a way out after the- the fight.”

Anna, breathing hard, mind racing, rips the ring off her finger and shoves it close to Elsa’s face. Her fingers tremble as she undoes the clasp and the astro-globe unfurls. Elsa’s snowflake shimmers into existence, but flickers like a guttering candle flame. The edges of the ring become blurry from tears.

“Ah,” is all Elsa says after a long moment. She clutches herself tighter. “I should have known.” Then she smiles. Beams. Pain gives her eyes new creases. “Not exactly how I thought it’d be used, but I’m glad it worked.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself!?” Anna can’t keep her voice down, even when it makes Elsa flinch, but she tries. “What even happened here?”

Elsa’s breathing is shallow and erratic. “We were… I was… attacked. Ah-!” She grips her abdomen, fresh blood leaking between her fingers. She bows her head, face shielded by her hair.

“Alright okay, know what? I know I asked but tell me later.” Anna shifts so she’s at Elsa’s side. “I need you to lie down, can you do that for me?”

Elsa nods slowly and lets her head be guided onto Anna’s knees. Her skin is flushed and feverish, radiating heat even as Anna retracts her palm in surprise. Elsa’s pulse thunders in her throat, and while normally that would be a good sign, Anna knows it’s wrong. She’s seen her share of cuts and scrapes, most of them on herself, but this was something else.

And the smell…the wound had already started to turn.

Anna shucks off her cloak and begins folding it lengthwise.

“Anna,” Elsa croaks. “No, you’ll freeze.”

“Save your breath Elsa,” Anna replies quickly, looping the garment under Elsa’s back,  “and… lift your arms when I ask.” She tries to stop the shaking in her hands. She needs to be precise. “Now.”

And she… doesn’t look. Her hands work by themselves, wrapping and tugging and bundling it all up into a knot on Elsa’s left side. Elsa gasps and her eyes shut tightly at the new pain and pressure but Anna can’t risk making the bandaging too loose.

“Can you stand?” Anna supports Elsa with a hand on the small of her back. Elsa’s legs tremble as she attempts to put weight on them, and Anna has to catch her when she barely makes it halfway up. Elsa stares at the ground between her legs, panting.

“No, I... ,” she shields her eyes with a hand. “My head is… hot.” Goosebumps form under Anna’s fingers as Elsa actually shivers.

It’s bad. Real bad.

“Where are the spirits?” Anna asks.

“On guard. Waiting. Looking for a way out.” She senses Anna’s confusion. “When I was injured, there was a great sound from above, and the mist came from nowhere to shove the enemy back. I think it was Ahtohallan.”

“It trapped you in here?”

“Unintentionally, but yes. It sensed that I was in danger, but not the cause.”  Elsa winces as she shivers again, grabbing Anna’s shoulder for support. “It knows that I still am, but not… the nuance. But you, you seem to have gotten here just fine.”

“It pushed Kristoff away, so it might still give us trouble.” Anna bit her lip, thinking, “But we need to get you out of here, now.”

“Call them Anna,” Elsa says, her voice low. “They will listen to you.”

“How?” Anna chokes because she’s never seen Elsa look so weak. She’s leaning on Anna almost fully now, her eyes half-lidded.

“You already know.” Elsa’s head falls to Anna’s chest, and Anna can feel her rapid breathing like it’s in her own chest. “Just… wish, and they will come.”

And Anna doesn’t know how Elsa makes it seem so effortless, so natural and elegant, because the only thing she can think of to do is slam her hand into the ground and beg.

Nokk bursts out of a standing puddle of water a few meters away, whining and bucking with fervor, it’s nostrils flared and head tossing. Gale descends from the clouds and whistles around them, the leaves and snow in it’s form comforting as it caresses her face. She feels the giants long before she sees them, but they emerge above the trees, craggy faces downcast and concerned. Anna casts her gaze about for the telltale magenta-purple flames of Bruni, but he’s nowhere to be found. A shame, because while she can’t think of a practical use for his talents at the moment, he never failed to bring a smile to Elsa’s face.

Anna addresses them. “I’m bringing her back to Arendelle, she needs medical attention and I need your help to get her there.” There was a pause. Gale bobs in a somber vortex, Nokk’s tail flicks back and forth, and the giants look at each other. Then they all advance at once, each trying to pick Elsa up or move both women from the ground in distinctly unskilled or uncoordinated ways. “Wait, stop!” Anna cries, and they cease immediately, backing up. “You have to be gentle,” Anna says firmly. “She’s hurt. Badly.”

This time, they wait for her direction, and Anna’s voice rings out so confidently commanding that it almost sounds foreign. “Gale, can you lift Elsa up and put her on Nokk’s back? We’ll travel back to the others and get her onto something more solid.” She turns to the giants, “I want you to look for the people who did this. Gale will help you pick up all the- well, everything here. I don’t want it to stay in the woods and become dangerous for the wildlife. You’ll have to wait until we’re further away though, since your footsteps shake the earth and will jostle Elsa.” Their faces fall and Anna summons her warmest smile. It came easier than she expected, knowing they genuinely cared. “I know you want to do more, but I promise, your job is very important.” Her eyes sharpen with her tone. “They can’t get away with this.”

Gale, who has been hovering over Elsa while Anna spoke, finally lifts her off of Anna’s legs, so slowly and tenderly that Anna almost starts crying again. Nokk presents it’s side, watching with it’s imperceptible gaze as Elsa is lowered onto it’s back. Elsa’s eyes are closed but when she is nestled against the horse’s neck she stirs, frosting the water horse below her into a solid form.

She meets Anna’s eye and smiles softly, a little more light in her eye than before.

They begin walking to the mist wall, stepping carefully around trees, ice barriers, and weapons buried in the snow. Anna keeps her hand on the Nokk’s flank, trying to judge the sway of the ground beneath it’s hooves and steady Elsa when necessary. Gale drops objects from the trees behind them, and every clatter of metal and muted thud of cloth and leather widens the scope of the attack for Anna.

“There were so many of them,” Anna remarks. She looks down at her sister, “I’m sorry you had to fight, Elsa.”

“I don’t know what else they expected,” she replies, a tired half smirk on her lips. “I could understand not knowing about the spirits, but the whole Ice Queen thing has been public knowledge for three years.”

“I… can’t believe you’re cracking jokes right now,” but Anna smiles back nonetheless. It disappears just as quickly. “I’m serious though Elsa. I know you,” she hesitates. “I know you never want to use your powers like that. Against people.”

Elsa looked down at Anna’s cloak around her middle. Anna’s heart skips a beat when she realizes a small but growing patch of red has started to appear. “They didn’t give me a choice.”

She extends her arm towards Anna, limp against the Nokk’s side. Anna shifts her hand on the horse’s flank to take her sister’s. She fights the shudder of revulsion that snakes up her arm; Elsa’s hand is slick with her own blood, but Anna can’t deny her, or herself, the comfort. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Elsa says quietly.

Pride and remorse clash between Anna’s ribs. If anyone could beat back an unknown number of assailants while still barely putting a scratch on them, it was Elsa. But Anna regretted that being the case at all. Not for Elsa’s sake, who she knew would lament even one ounce of hurt, but for the ones who dared to even think about harming her family.

They deserved much, much worse.

She was going to need more boats to punch people off of. Though others had told her later that Hans had gotten off easy, attempting to slay royalty and really only getting a black eye for his troubles.

Elsa’s thumb running across the back of her hand reeled back her train of thought. “One thing kept me going though, through the madness of it, even after I got hurt.” She flinches and her other hand presses delicately against the red fabric. She clutches her sister’s hand, “I told myself to be brave, just like you Anna.”

“You mean to tell me you weren’t afraid?” Anna’s laugh is stilted.

Elsa breathes for a moment. “Were you?” she asks quietly, “When you were freezing to death on the fjord, and running across the dam?”

Anna squeezes back and her voice shakes. “I was terrified. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not trembling in fear. It just means you have the resolve to stand up and keep going.”

“...I was so scared,” Elsa whispers, a single tear falling down her face. “I'm still scared.”

“I know,” and this time Anna’s voice breaks. She presses a kiss to Elsa’s temple. “I know Elsa, and I’m so sorry. Please hold on just a little longer.”

“Anna, I’m so tired,” she says faintly, the wind liable to steal the sound completely. “Please, may I sleep?”

“O-Of course.” Anna combs hair away from Elsa’s face, her own slick with tears. “Rest, Elsa, you’ve been through so much already.”

Elsa shudders through an exhale, her forehead pinching up as even the simple need to breathe inflicts pain. “Be there… when I wake?”

Anna couldn’t help herself now. A sob bursts from her chest and she clutches Elsa’s hand like a lifeline. “Always. I’ll always be here, Elsa.”

The barest trace of a smile turns the corner of Elsa’s mouth up. Then her whole body goes slack. Her hand loses its grip and for a full, heart-pounding moment Anna thinks she’s lost her, but then she sees Elsa’s chest rise and fall and knows she’s alive, just unconscious.

She cries all the way back to the sleigh.

Kristoff meets up with her after clearing the mist wall, which disappears as soon as they finish crossing. He pulls her in for a hug so fierce she can scarcely breathe, but she needs something solid right now and let’s him even though it aches. Bruni chirps sadly on his shoulder, pattering this way and that to get the best look at Elsa he could. Kristoff explains that he found Bruni outside the wall, huddled under a rock. An apple-sized singe mark on Kristoff’s chest speaks to how the little spirit was when he found him.

Anna had tried her best to ignore it, but when Kristoff’s face goes pale she has to check and see how much worse it’s gotten. Somewhere along the trek back blood had started to seep into Nokk's body, like drops of sickness in pure water. They snaked deeper into the horse’s belly, meandering red tendrils suspended and animated with every movement.

The moment Gale lifts Elsa off Nokk it crashes to the ground, no longer solid, splashing loudly into the snow and ice. Anna feels Nokk go and sends her thanks, even as it leaves a red trail behind. Elsa is laid next to Olaf, who reaches, “...2...1…” and then opens his eyes. “Elsa?” he says softly.

Elsa’s eyelids flutter as she wakes. Her eyes are still clouded, but brighten just a little when they catch sight of Olaf. Her voice strains then she speaks, “You’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he nods. “Can’t… get rid of me that easy.”

As Anna gets into the sleigh to keep watch and Kristoff snaps Sven’s reins, she sees Elsa reach across the small space between her and Olaf. His twig hand meets her halfway and they hold each other like that, both weak and exhausted. They drift off almost immediately, which Anna is grateful for, despite how it also ties her stomach in knots.

The trip back home is long and silent.