Chapter Twelve – Journey

The following morning came. Anna was brought her breakfast, which she ate alone in her bed. Johan came to visit her as she was finishing her toast, and she hid the news of her regenerating nerves. Night-time and candlelight had provided a perfect womb to the discoveries of the night before; daylight was harsh and unforgiving. When he came to see her, Anna found she could not speak of it. She could not utter her hopes, for her fears lay directly underneath.

It had already proved to be temporary, this sensation of touch upon her knees. When she had woken up this morning, her knees were blurry again. What if Elsa could do no more for her than this? What if Scarborough was just a dream, a fantasy, a phantasm to pass momentarily across her consciousness?

Anna found she needed the idea of Scarborough. She needed the mere thread of freedom for her legs and feet. She needed it, because the pain was still too great, her nerves still so fragile, her spirit still so changeable and weak.

Johan kissed her cheek, and Elsa came for morning rehabilitation, and her day continued as if there had been no great ten-day interruption. Yet there was a sense of deepened connection between she and her nurse, a sense of the gulf that had separated them. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder, and Anna blessed each moment she spent in Elsa's presence, even when she was grunting with the effort of her leg extensions in the morning rehabilitation.

The memory of Elsa's touch on her knee sustained her. The memory of Elsa's arms wrapped around her was like a magic talisman, to wave through the air and make every-day moments magical. The idea of Scarborough was moonlight, sifting through all her veins, bringing her hope, bringing her power.

The days began to pass. Anna eagerly slipped into her former routine, though Elsa now introduced new exercises for her. Twice a day she would urge Anna down from her bed and onto a thin mat she laid upon the floor. Then she would ask Anna to breathe in a deep and rhythmic way as she moved her legs and body into strange and unknown positions that she called 'asanas'. Hours they spent in this and in more familiar rehabilitation.

Every day Elsa challenged her more, pushing her body harder and harder. She was near merciless in the rehab, daring Anna to work on her abdomen and arms while Elsa worked on her ankles, knees, and legs. There were two massages a day, one in the morning after the rehab, and one in the evening before bed. Anna often bathed twice a day as well, and Gerda was kept busy helping her change from her 'workout gear', as Elsa called it, to her daytime and dinner dresses.

All of this greatly increased her appetite, and not just for food. The harder she worked with Elsa, the longer she was able to sit with her son and daughters-in-law. She took more teas with the family, and more walks around the grounds, and even went down into the village to meet with the interim director of the War Widows Fund, a willing and somehow fiery Helene in tow.

Yet pain was a companion as loving and constant as her nurse. Never did a single day pass without pain of some sort, her muscles aching, and that low-grade headache occasionally spitting and biting with maligned fury. Yet she never had such pain as the day Elsa had received the news of her Master, and they hadn't resorted to using laudanum, either.

Seven days after Elsa had returned from London, she came to Anna with good news.

It was evening, and Anna had just come up from dinner with the family and noble guests from a neighbouring estate. Elsa came into the room shortly after Anna had returned from dinner; her lady was still seated in her wheelchair before her dressing table, and Gerda was assisting her with her gloves and her jewellery.

Elsa looked at her lady and her mouth went dry with admiration, and her heart suddenly lubbed thick and hard in her breast. Anna looked stunning this evening, her hair delicately wrought in many small braids before being caught up in a net of pearls that brilliantly offset the white streak in her hair. Gerda was bustling next to her, starting to take out the pins that held the net in place.

Elsa was arrested in place; paralyzed by the sight of this beauty before her. She could see Anna's face in the mirror; her lady had her eyes mostly shut, and she seemed to be breathing quite deliberately. Elsa knew her lady must be in considerable pain after the events of the evening.

Relief of that pain would soon come. Elsa would do everything in her power to rid Anna of it.

But for now it was a blessing just to look at this woman, and appreciate her. Not only the sight of her, as Gerda pulled the net aside and those small braids cascaded down over her lovely neck, but also to appreciate the waves of strength and peace that radiated from her. Just standing there Elsa could feel Anna's fierce contentment. She was an invalid no longer. Even in this wheelchair she was the Dowager Baroness, and she was capable of all things.

Just then, Anna opened her eyes and looked right at Elsa through the mirror.

Elsa blushed as she was caught staring.

Anna's gaze was clear and strong, with no sign of embarrassment or shame. For several moments they simply stared at each other. Anna's eyes grounded her, made Elsa feel equally fierce, equally strong.

It was Gerda who shattered the moment. "Doesn't our lady look so lovely this evening?" she asked as she began to unplait the braids.

Elsa moistened her lips before speaking the truth. "Indeed, Lady Skaldenfoss is the loveliest woman I have ever seen." She saw Anna's own cheeks begin to flush with colour, and her lady smiled in acceptance of the compliment.

Gerda saw it all, and felt the first clang of wonder and warning in her heart. The faithful servant could perceive something growing and changing between lady and nurse, though both of these women seemed to be desperately oblivious to it.

Yet she would say nothing, do nothing to break the bond growing between this lady and this most dedicated therapist, for Gerda adored Anna Arendelle and would do nothing to harm her. Gerda herself would give Elsa Wolff any gift, reward her in any way possible and still it would not come close to absolving the debt she felt.

For Gerda was convinced that Elsa had saved Anna's life. If Elsa had not come to them, her dearest lady would have perished, one way or another. Gerda didn't know how she knew this, yet she did; she felt it as a truth as deep as her own connection to her husband, Kai.

So if Anna needed this more intimate connection with another person, even another woman, Gerda would do nothing to bruise it. Anna had been lonely enough, these thirty years, chained by marriage to a man who had repeatedly cheated on her. Anna knew about Baroness Falk, but Gerda didn't think she knew about all the others.

A low and gritty anger burned inside her heart, and she forced it away, for Hans was dead now, and could do no more harm.

"Gerda?" Elsa asked, bringing Gerda back to the present moment.

"Yes?"

"I would be pleased to take over for you. I see that my lady is in pain, and I would give her a scalp massage."

Gerda did not miss the sudden elation in Anna's eyes, though nothing else in Anna's aspect changed. It was yet another confirmation of the idea that had sprouted in Gerda's mind. They will not be only lady and therapist forever. They will unite before being torn apart. Sorrow for Anna's eventual broken heart filled Gerda's throat.

"My lady?" Gerda asked, to confirm what she already knew Anna's answer would be.

"Yes please, Gerda. Miss Wolff can assist me with the hair and with disrobing. You may spend the rest of your evening in peace."

"As you wish, my lady. Miss Wolff, would you be so kind as to hang up my lady's dress?"

"Of course."

Elsa had already dissolved some headache medicine in a cup of water, and dimmed the lights before putting wood on the fire. Gerda bobbed a curtsey and left the room, looking back between lady and nurse just one more time before closing the door on them, giving them privacy.

Elsa gave the medicine to Anna, who solemnly gulped it down before setting aside the glass. "I'm glad you're here," Anna said quietly, simply.

"Shall I continue with your hair, or do you have more urgent requests?"

"You may continue with my hair. Take your time, Elsa. I need your peace and stillness just as much as I need the immense talent of your hands."

Pleased and somewhat surprised at Anna's words, Elsa stepped up to the wheelchair and began to pluck apart the braids, stroking Anna's head as she did so. Anna closed her eyes again and slightly slumped in her chair. It gave Elsa full permission to gaze upon Anna's glory; her gown was fashioned in the latest style from London, and left part of her shoulders bare. The fabric was lush on Anna's skin, the bead-work divine. Elsa had never owned a dress quite like this one, and doubted she ever would.

She worked in silence, picking apart the braids and gently stroking Anna's scalp. As she worked, she visualized the Black Sea, one of the calmest seas she had ever personally encountered. She held the sensation of that sea and its beaches inside her as she worked, hoping that its peace would radiate from her, to help pacify the tempest in her lady's body.

Once the braids had been released, Elsa gently combed out Anna's hair. The change in movement seemed to bring Anna out of her reverie; her lady opened her eyes and looked slightly fresher than before.

It made disrobing and dressing Anna in her nightgown much easier, and soon Anna was tucked between her sheets, seated tall against the headboard. Elsa took her place at Anna's feet, oiled her hands, and began to rub.

A short time later, Elsa spoke up, deeming it time to share her news so that they could make their plans. "My lady, I have had a response today from the facility in Scarborough."

"Go on, then."

"The stars are aligning for us, my dear, for I learned that they are expecting one of their long-term residents to finish their wellness regime in the next week. Despite there being a waiting list for the resort in general, we have climbed to the top of that list because our need is greater than the average noblewoman who only wishes to take to the baths for general health and diversion. Though," and here Elsa lightly chuckled, "I may have used all my powers of persuasion to convince them of our need."

"You can be rather persuasive when you put your mind to it," Anna dryly replied. "I am the Baroness around here, yet I seem to obey you rather readily."

"You're a good girl," Elsa dared say in jest, so glad to see this part of Anna's personality come out in private moments.

Anna stuck her tongue out at her. Elsa laughed aloud as she continued further up Anna's ankle and calf.

"So. The facility is rather small, and inundated with requests, but we are to receive the space that comes open. It seems quite expensive to me, my lady, at least by my humble reckoning, but the package includes food, private lodging, and complete access to the baths, pools, and grounds of the resort."

Anna seemed about to ask something, but Elsa continued, "The one shortcoming is this, my lady. You may take only one attendant with you. The space they offer is a small apartment. It has a private sitting room and dining area, a private bathing chamber, and two small bedrooms. Maids and other servants, such as myself, would generally reside in the accompanying cottages, but one cottage is under reconstruction, and the other cottage is full. They are building additional cottages, but they are not ready. The town itself is not large, the facility is on the edge of the town, and it would not be easy to house other servants."

Anna looked steadily at her as she took all this in. Then she took a breath and said, "What you are saying is that I can only take you with me. Gerda will not be able to join us."

"That is exactly what I am obliquely saying," Elsa said, with a smile for Anna understanding the situation. "While I cannot hope to match Gerda's skill in hairdressing or mending, I can certainly help to dress you and take care of you. The resort has also offered the services of one of their own maids when we need extra help." Elsa paused in her speaking, though not in her firm manipulation of Anna's muscles. "I have also spoken with Dr. Lund. I saw him earlier this week, and he believes that there is merit to the idea, though he is sceptical about a complete cure. To be honest, my lady, I think he doesn't want to get your hopes up, only to be disappointed should it not work."

"And what do you think?"

Elsa looked up from her contemplation of Anna's legs. She held Anna's skin, though Anna could not feel it, and said, "I think we must take this chance. But it would mean parting from your family, possibly for some time. I have done a lot of research in the last seven days, my lady, even after all my conversation with my Master concerning your situation. This won't be easy, and it won't be quick. It will take months, Anna. Progress will be slow and painful. Your body will be confused as the nerves continue to regenerate and heal. You are feeling phantom pain in your legs even now, and this will continue, and likely intensify. I don't want to upset you, but neither do I want you to go into this experience blindly. I do think that, if we work hard, we can make something happen. But it won't be a walk in the park, my lady."

Anna absorbed all of Elsa's words. She took a moment of silence, and tried to picture this facility, and how she would live with Elsa as her only constant companion. No Gerda. No Johan. No Lily or Helene or grandchildren. Months of pain, months of progress. So much silence, so much solitude. No duty to anyone but herself, and this one woman.

Anna thought of Elsa's sacrifice. She could be on her way to India even now, her Master's ashes in her steadfast hands.

But Elsa had chosen her.

So Anna would choose this.

Anna Arendelle opened her mouth and said, "I'll put my pain on the scales, Elsa. I'll gamble it all in the hopes of a better future. As long as you are there with me."

"I mean what I said when I returned to Iskall Slott, my lady. I am yours as long as you want me."

Anna had to bite back the response that came instantly to her lips and mind.

I will always want you, Elsa!

Instead, Anna said, "Make the arrangements, Elsa. Accept the apartment, and all the conditions. I don't want to let this chance slip through my fingers. I'll talk to Johan and Lily, and make everything all right." She paused, and then asked, "Certainly we can come home for Christmas?"

Elsa grinned as she finished rubbing Anna's legs before tucking them back under the sheets. "Of course, my lady, and other times as needed. Once we rent this apartment, it will be our home for the next six months or more. To go or stay as needed and required. If you can withstand the journey and sea voyage, we can return to Iskall Slott as we wish in the months ahead. It's a resort, not a prison."

Anna chuckled as Elsa got up, stretched, and then sat down again, closer to Anna's hands and elbows. She dapped eucalyptus essential oil onto Anna's palm and began to work it in.

Silence descended. It was October now, and the evening was chilly. A fire snapped and giggled in the grate of her bedchamber. The light was warm and welcoming. Everything around her was serene save for a cramp that delved into Anna's lower back; she controlled a wince, and stayed silent.

And Elsa, for once, was oblivious, so diligent was she on Anna's hands.

After some time, Anna softly asked, "What are you thinking about, Elsa?"

Elsa lifted her head. She looked tired, and worn out, and suddenly wary. It was the same face Anna had momentarily seen just before Elsa had received the news of her Master. Anna held her breath and hoped that Elsa would speak.

In a moment, Elsa graced her with a small smile and answered, "I was thinking about a certain thunderstorm I saw once, my lady. Did I ever tell you that I used to love thunderstorms?"

Anna shook her head as she instantly wondered what had happened; why Elsa would not love these storms any longer. She dared not speak. She only waited.

"I remember watching them come across the prairie," Elsa said, her voice so low it was nearly lost amid the crackling of the flames. Her face was lifted in memory. "It amazed me that the sun could be shining behind me, painting the prairie grasses a vivid green and gold, and there would yet be such piles of darkness before me as the storm advanced. The thunderheads reared in the sky like wild horses, ready to stampede across the plains. Their teeth would be lightning, their hooves the thunder."

Elsa oiled her hands and took Anna's other palm, to continue the massage. "I've never told you this, my lady, but I first came to Norway in 1912. In fact, I was visiting County Vestfold."

Anna actually sat up a little taller in her bed at this surprising piece of news. "Really, Elsa?"

Elsa flashed her a smile before continuing, her voice still low and contemplative. "It's so strange to think of it now, how I could have been so close to Iskall Slott, never knowing the future connection I would have with this place. It's always strange to think of the future, places and people we might encounter, the impact we might have upon their lives…"

When the pause lengthened, Anna asked, "Could you tell me any more, Elsa?"

"I guess I'm telling you this because you need to know something before we go to Scarborough. I'm… I'm quite terrified of sea voyages. They are very difficult for me, both physically and emotionally. My recent journey to London… I was wracked with seasickness, and meditated frequently, my lady, for safety upon the seas. I, well…"

Anna reached out with her hand to hold Elsa's hand, thereby halting her massage. Surprised, Elsa looked at her.

"Is it because of what happened to your family?" Anna asked. "You told me there had been a shipwreck, and that is how you lost your mom, and your brother."

Elsa stared at her for a moment, her breath seeming high and fast. But then Elsa seemed to take one long deep breath and said, "You have a good memory, Anna. It is so. Sea voyages… make me very nervous. I was in a storm upon the sea, once. The memory still haunts me to this day."

"At least we'll be together this time," Anna said. "I'll help you, Elsa, I promise."

There was a startled blush in Elsa's cheeks, making her young and vulnerable. Anna's heart lurched to look at her this way.

"I'm glad of that," Elsa replied as she squeezed Anna's hand before resuming the massage. "Back to what I had been saying earlier, I was in Larvik in 1912, and saw Iskall Slott on the hill. I remember wondering about this place and the people who lived here. Never knowing that my path would eventually wind back here, that my life would become so enmeshed with the lady of this estate."

Elsa looked right at Anna and smiled. "It's a good thing we can't see the future, Anna. Perhaps it's a very good thing that we can only see a few steps ahead of us at a time, and the rest of the journey is on faith. Faith is a muscle like any other, and has to be exercised. Sometimes faith is all that props up my bones."

She paused in her words and in the massage, lending gravity to the moment. "You are showing incredible faith right now, my dear. In trusting my treatment, in letting me take you away from this place, from your family."

Anna absorbed those words, and then she spoke. "I wouldn't have, just seven weeks ago," Anna breathed. "My life had been sound and fury before you came. You brought peace and calm and joy back into my life. No, we can't see the future, but we can make predictions based on evidence. I've come a long way, Elsa, all in the patient palms of your hands. Of course I'm wiling to go further, all on faith."

Elsa smiled again and resumed the massage. She opened her mouth as if to speak when a knock came on the door. Johan immediately entered with Lily on his heels.

Anna blew out her breath. She had forgotten to tell Elsa that her children would visit her before bed. The soft and friendly mood between she and Elsa immediately vanished, leaving only wisps of companionship and warmth. Elsa controlled her surprise as she looked between them all, and then she asked, "Shall I leave you for the evening, my lady?"

Wishing she could explain, wishing she could say something, anything, all Anna could do was respond. "Yes, that will be all for tonight, Elsa, thank you," Anna replied, masking the heaviness of her voice as she masked the unrevealed pain in her lower back.

Elsa gave her hands one last hidden caress before rising. She gathered her things, inclined her head to Lord and Lady Skaldenfoss, and smiled at her lady before she left the room.

Johan took the vacated chair while Lily sat on the edge of the bed. "I see you've finally decided to call her by her name," her son said. "I'm glad of it, mamma."

"I know, I resisted it long enough. It is certainly right to use her name now, after all we've been through." She settled back against her headboard and they began to converse, continuing some of the topics that had arisen in the dinner earlier.

The talk was dear and lively for a time, though Anna felt a growing need to share her own news with them. Finally an appropriate space in the conversation appeared. Anna cleared her throat and said, "I have news of my own to share, dear ones. Elsa has found a new treatment for me, one that might enable me to learn how to walk again."

Both of their faces brightened, though Johan still looked guarded as Anna outlined everything that Elsa had told her. She told them of the resort in Scarborough, the pool where she would swim and exercise, and the little apartment that had been offered, though only one attendant could go with her.

Then, gauging it was time to tell her son and his wife the truth, Anna revealed that her nerves had been regenerating, that she felt pricks and needles down her legs. She didn't tell them about the one moment she had been able to feel Elsa touching her knee, but she told them the rest. Anna also told them that these new sensations were not without their dark side, for the pricking of her nerves was constant and irritating, jangling her senses, and pain was still her constant companion, continually gnawing on her muscles and bones.

By the time she finished speaking, Johan and Lily looked cautiously optimistic. Which is exactly how Anna felt herself. "How long would you be away?" Lily asked.

"Six months to start with. Possibly more."

Shock began to register on their well-bred faces. "Six months?" Johan repeated.

"Six months or more," she firmly replied. "This isn't like repairing an automobile, Johan. Elsa has warned me that considerable pain lies ahead of me. But she truly believes that I may walk again." Anna allowed a note of wonder to enter her voice. "Imagine that, my son. Walking. Dancing. Every part of my former life, back within my grasp. I'll do it. Whether it takes six months or more, I'll do it."

"You'll have everything except dad," he said quietly.

Anna looked at him.

And her heart broke for him, and his loss. His innocence, in the face of truths she had never spoken of. He was a grown man, couldn't she just tell him the truth?

Another cramp bit deeply into her lower back. It was where a piece of wreckage had landed upon her, pinning her to the snowy ground. Hans had been nearby, a blade of glass through his throat, silencing him forever. He would keep no more secrets, tell no more lies.

"You're right. I'll have everything back except your father. Because some things don't come back at all."

"Do you even miss him? You never talk about him."

Anna wished she could think of the good times. Of holding Johan in her arms after he had been born, and having Hans stand next to her. His hand had been on her shoulder. He had kissed her unmarked forehead. Anna wished she could think of Hans standing next to her at their children's graves, Heidi and Leif. The sunlight had been so bright on them during their regular pilgrimage to the cemetery in Larvik. Those had been good moments, though weighted with much sorrow.

But Anna could also see Hans' naked back thrusting away, and the ecstatic face of Baroness Falk, there in his dressing room chamber while they believed her away.

Anna took a deep breath. "Johan, there is something you should know. I would tell you something, so that you may understand why I feel the way I do. My son, Hans cheated on me three years ago. I caught him in the very act of having sex with another woman. Right there, in his dressing room chamber." Anna's voice trembled as she saw his face go ashen.

Johan reached for Lily's hand, and she took it in silence.

"Dad did that to you?" Johan asked, his voice incredulous.

"Yes, he did. With one woman, certainly. Maybe with even more."

Pause. Anna stared at his face, trying to understand the emotions that flickered there.

But then.

"There were more," Lily quietly said.

Both Anna and Johan looked at her in shock. "What?" Anna asked.

"Helene told me," Lily said, her own voice trembling, her face white. "She had gone to the library late one night, for she had been unable to sleep. She found Hans there, and he was drunk. He told her that you had shut him out of your room, for you had caught him cheating. Helene tried to leave, she didn't want to hear his confession, but he was very drunk. He told her that you were oblivious, for all the years of the marriage you had been oblivious, for he had cheated on you many, many times. There was a certain establishment in Oslo, where he and his friends used to go after the Storting parliament finished for the evening…"

Anna covered her face with her hands and began to weep. Deep down, she had known. It wasn't just the one time. Damn him!

"Mamma?" she heard Johan ask.

"Give me a moment," she whispered behind her closed eyes.

He pressed a clean handkerchief in her hands, and she used it to cover and dab at her eyes.

And while part of her wanted to dismiss them both, to leave her to her shame and her anger, Anna decided to have them stay. Let them witness this. Let them all pass through this truth together.

So Anna wept, breathing through her anger, her grief, her feeling of betrayal. She wished Elsa were here, to hold her and comfort her.

That she thought of Elsa in this way was sobering, and Anna tucked the thought away for later consideration.

A short time later, Anna felt able to open her eyes and look at her children. "Is there more to tell?" she asked Lily.

"Only that Hans swore Helene to secrecy, but she could not bear the burden of his lies. She told me a few days later, and we carried this truth together. We debated telling you, but then you and Hans made up. And with his death, we thought we would never have to mention it."

"You wouldn't even tell me?" Johan asked, a tinge of anger in his voice.

Lily glared at him. "Would you have me break my word, Johan?"

He deflated under the fierceness of her gaze. "No, of course not. At least now I know." He looked at Anna, a complex mixture of grief and anger on his face. "It helps to know this, mamma. I understand much better now. I suppose you had your reasons for keeping this from me. But I want to thank you for telling me the truth."

"I do miss him sometimes," Anna said, wiping her eyes one last time. "Just as I miss Leif, and Heidi. Our family… we have lost so much!"

"Like we would have missed you," Johan said, his voice slightly wild. "It was just seven weeks ago, mamma, when you started slipping away from us. When you turned your back on the world and wanted to die. I don't forget so easily. You need six months to walk again? Take it. I want my mother back." His words were so fierce, so heartfelt!

It hurt to hear him tell the truth, to speak of her death wish. How low she had been, how despairing!

"I am coming back, Johan," she said quietly. "But I might not come back the same person. What I went through… the mother you once knew doesn't even exist anymore. I think that Anna died in the accident, just like your father.

"But this Anna, this mother I am now, the mother I still will become… I am as proud of you now as I have ever been. Johan, my dearest son, you continually amaze me. You have taken over the management of this estate with grace and with courage. You've made mistakes, but you've learned from them. Your father would be proud of you. As I am so very proud."

His eyes reddened, but stayed clear of tears. Lily squeezed his hand.

Love for both of them rose strong and mighty in her chest, like Elsa's prairie thunderstorm. Darkness and light, all in one, a perfect harmony.

"Certainly, Anna, you would come home for Christmas," Lily finally ventured.

"Of course, my dears. It's a resort, not a prison, as Elsa reminded me. Yes, we'll come home for Christmas."

Fragile silence, thin as cobwebs. Thin as Anna's hopes and dreams.

"We'll miss you," Lily said. "I'm glad for this chance for you, but don't think for a moment that you won't be missed."

Anna wasn't prepared for the vehemence in Lily's voice. It brought tears to her throat.

"I'll miss you, too."

…

The next morning when Elsa appeared in her lady's chambers, she immediately noticed that something was troubling Anna deeply. Her lady was unusually reticent and withdrawn. Elsa asked only if it had to do with their upcoming trip to Scarborough, and Anna said no. And Anna said nothing further. It hurt Elsa quite deeply to be kept out of Anna's confidence, but as she conducted the morning rehabilitation in uncommon silence, Elsa told herself that this is surely how Anna must feel every time Elsa would not open up.

It was sobering, and Elsa made an internal vow to take off her 'gloves' the moment they got to Scarborough. The privacy of their own apartment, the even greater amount of time they would spend in each other's company; the environment would be perfect for confidences and friendship.

If that's what Anna wanted. This morning, Elsa wasn't so sure.

Still, Anna instructed Elsa to send their acceptance to the resort in Scarborough that very day. In the hours not in her lady's company, Elsa began making a myriad of other arrangements, the transport of their luggage and possessions, the relaying of the construction plans for a new massage table for their apartment in Scarborough, and stocking of all the various medical supplies, lotions, oils, and herbs she enjoyed using.

She also stocked ginger for her inevitable sea-sickness, and hoped she would not vomit in front of her lady.

For her part, Anna took on the arrangements for the voyage itself. When the ocean liner tried to put Elsa Wolff in third class with the other servants, Anna completely balked, and demanded conjoining rooms on the first class deck. She would not be parted from Elsa in such a cavalier and empty fashion. Besides, if Elsa was nervous about the voyage, then Anna wanted to be near her, to help her. She cared not a whit for the extra expense; Elsa deserved to enjoy first-class services. She gave first-class service herself.

Besides, if Anna needed her in the middle of the night, it would be far easier to ring for her with these adjoining chambers.

Their departure was set for only six days hence; six days that passed in a flurry of packing and preparation. Lily and Ingrid met up in Oslo to buy bathing costumes for Anna. It had been years since Anna had to purchase a bathing costume, and now she needed several of them. Her girls brought back boxes and boxes of costumes from Oslo. Anna tried them on and finally found four of them that fit well, were becoming enough, and could withstand the hard use about to be put to them.

Gerda seemed slightly upset and fearful for her job without Anna to serve. She was a lady's maid, after all, without a lady to serve. Anna reassured her, letting her know that she was valued and that her job was secure; the moment Anna came home, she expected to be waited upon. In the meantime, Gerda was to assist with other household duties. Anna also anticipated that Johan and Lily might be entertaining more of their friends and family with Anna away, and she charged Gerda with serving the various ladies that would be visiting Iskall Slott in her absence.

Gerda took the time to corner Elsa and give her instructions; mainly how Anna enjoyed her coffee and orange juice in the morning, how she liked the crust cut off her toast for breakfast, and which sort of caviar was best for her, and how much sugar she took in her afternoon tea. Elsa took all the suggestions well in stride, and occasionally wondered if she was up to the task. To have all of Gerda's duties as well as her own… it was good that they would have the services of a maid while they were in Scarborough. And the brief moments Elsa felt intimidated and insecure were few and far between; she reminded herself that the lady she served was pragmatic as well as practical and kind, and would forgive Elsa any lapses in her service.

Or so she hoped.

It was astonishing how fast those six days passed. Also astonishing was how Anna felt, twice more, the sensation of touch upon her feet, and upon her knees.

The day before their departure, there was one last pilgrimage to undertake. Elsa accompanied the family for the first time. She helped bundle Anna into the car, ensured that the wheelchair was strapped securely to the boot, and then she sat in the front seat with Kristoff while the family went to the local cemetery.

It had been months since Anna had visited the graves of her husband and children. She and Hans had gone at least once a month, up until the accident. But afterwards Anna had managed the journey only once, the week before Elsa came to her. She remembered the August sunshine pounding on her living skin, and yet her soul had already been dying inside!

Anna sat next to Lily, and shook those memories away by staring at the white-gold cable of Elsa's hair, pinned so neatly under her hat as they drove to the cemetery in Larvik.

Elsa had not been oblivious this week; she had been extra attentive and supportive, though she did not ask why Anna seemed so distant and wretched. For her part, Anna was still mentally reeling from the discovery of Hans' further infidelity; Lily's news had reopened old wounds, and she seemed unable to close them. At night, after Elsa left her, Anna wept into her pillow, wretched with loneliness, bereft and alone, convinced that she would spend the rest of her life in a similar fashion. She would never love, nor be loved, again.

Deep down, Anna was glad they were going to Scarborough. It would be good to get away from this place and all its memories.

They drove a short distance down into the village of Larvik, to the church, and then pulled into the adjoining cemetery. It was a typical blustery October day, with the skies completely streaked over with clouds. A brisk wind blew, scattering fallen leaves. They parked the car and Elsa again assisted in settling Anna in her chair.

And it was Elsa who pushed Anna in her wheelchair as they advanced through the cemetery. She felt honoured to join the family on this last visit of their lost loved ones before she and Anna left for Scarborough.

The graves were well-maintained, and all of them were situated right next to each other, and close to the grave of Hans' father. A gust of wind seemed to cut right to Elsa's skin, and she saw Anna shiver. Elsa bent down to ask if Anna wanted another blanket. Anna whispered yes, so Elsa rushed back to the car to get the spare. When she returned, she set it over Anna's lap, tucking it gently under her unfeeling legs. Anna thanked her in a small voice and gave Elsa's hand a quick squeeze.

Elsa's heart wrenched within her to feel that squeeze and to see the complex wash of emotions on Anna's worn face. She stood back to give the grieving family some privacy and watched Johan and the young women. Helene had a bunch of fresh flowers for Leif, which she reverently placed on her husband's grave. Lily had a similar bouquet for Heidi. For Hans, Johan had brought a wreath of ivy and rosehips. They all set down their offerings and softly spoke to each other, sharing memories and experiences. They all seemed to need this strange closure before Anna's departure.

Elsa watched, her lips closed, her heart open, her mind expanding with thought and wonder. All her attention was upon her lady, and her lady's family.

There was a secret here, something Anna held deep inside her. Over the weeks of her service, Elsa had noticed Anna's reticence in speaking of her dead husband. Elsa had begun to suspect that their marriage hadn't always been a shining example of loyalty and devotion. Elsa remembered what she had read of the times she now had to live in; that nobility often married for prestige and transfer of wealth or power, and that love wasn't always a pre-requisite for such alliances. It seemed barbaric and archaic to her, but evident even now in Anna's speech and in her silence.

Had the Baron cheated on her? The mere thought of it caused Elsa's heart to burn with fury. She wished she could ask Anna and know the truth, but she really could not. In this moment, Elsa knew her station, and her place. She was Anna's nurse, not her peer, not her partner, not even her close friend.

But Elsa felt something crack upon the old stone wards around her heart as she realized that she wanted at least one of these titles: she wanted to be Anna's friend.

Then she mentally shook a finger at herself and reminded herself to be grateful for what she had. To appreciate the fact that she was here, with Anna's family, and part of Anna's world.

So she watched Anna, and heard Anna say small beautiful things about each person, and her heart melted yet again for this lady she served. A partner was meant to be a companion as well as a lover; when had Anna experienced true friendship and companionship? If her spouse had not been her supporter and champion, her lover and her friend, whom had she relied upon? Or had she withstood the passage of the long years entirely alone?

Elsa Wolff thought of Catriona, the brief years of her own bliss, and felt grateful for them, even as her heart continued to quake and burn for Anna Arendelle and all that her lady hadn't been able to experience.

Some time later, Anna turned her head to look right at Elsa. Elsa did not need to see how Anna tapped her wrist, using the signal they had devised so long ago, for Elsa could easily see the paleness of her face and the hauntedness of her eyes. Her children were speaking to each other, and for the moment did not regard the Dowager Baroness. Anna looked right at Elsa, and mouthed, "Take me home, Elsa, please."

Elsa stepped forward, and with soft words broke into the family's grief, and bundled Anna back into the car. The company returned to Iskall Slott, back to the lives that had been reconstructed following the gaping holes of their losses.

…

The day of their departure swiftly came. Anna slept poorly the night before, filled with wonder and trepidation. On the morning of October 21, 1924, the family car was packed to the gills with all of their combined trunks and bags. The ground was rimmed with hard frost, and the gulls were shrieking above the turgid water of the strait. The entire family and Iskall Slott's contingent of servants gathered in the main entrance hall to see them off.

Her grandchildren eagerly climbed onto Anna's lap to kiss her cheeks and give her clumsy hugs. Her daughters-in-law hugged her and also kissed her cheeks. Johan embraced Anna as well before kissing her. "Be well, mamma," he whispered into her ear, unheard by anyone else.

Anna held her son close, feeling the strength of his shoulders, the patient fire of his character. "I love you, son," she whispered.

He took the handles of the wheelchair from Elsa Wolff and wheeled her out to the waiting car, and everyone followed them outside, forming a reception line. The staff waved for her, and Gerda blew her kisses. Kristoff was waiting by the car. Johan insisted on being the one to lift Anna into place in the back seat, though Elsa then tucked a blanket over her knees. Johan closed the door and then looked right at his mother's therapist.

Elsa Wolff had her thick white-gold hair cunningly twisted up on her head, exposing the length of her neck. Lily had often told him she hoped to look as young as Miss Wolff when she was over fifty years of age. While this therapist looked younger than her years, there were still fine lines by her eyes, and soft wrinkles by her mouth. However, when he looked into those deep blue eyes, he saw strength and determination there; if anyone could get his mother to walk again, it would be this woman.

Elsa stood there and accepted his gaze, never wavering. Johan's respect for this woman instantly climbed several notches higher.

"I'm putting my mother in your hands, Miss Wolff," he said quietly. "Take care of her."

"I love her, my Lord. I'll take very good care of her."

Johan stood back while Elsa took the front seat next to Kristoff. The family had spilled out of the house, and everyone started to wave as the car moved on out of the yard.

Hopes littered the ground between her and her family, her world. Anna could sense them, for they were shared hopes, shared dreams.

The Dowager Baroness waved back at her dear ones, tears pricking her eyes. She had heard every word Elsa said.

…

The first leg of their journey passed in relative discomfort and in silence as Kristoff drove them all the way from their home near Larvik to the capital of Oslo. Anna looked out the window at a countryside she had not seen for nearly a year. It seemed strange to her to see these rocky plains and fjords with such different eyes; her immense suffering of the past year had brought depth to that which she perceived, making this once-familiar journey unfamiliar and new.

But even this part of the journey wasn't without its pain; the back seat of the car was not as comfortable as her bed, or even her wheelchair. Pain began to twist and burn in her lower back, radiating up to her head. She was so weary, so empty!

The last time she had been upon this stretch of land had been when she was transferred from the hospital in Oslo back to Iskall Slott. She had been in the back of an ambulance, her legs encased in plaster casts, her head still bandaged along with her torso (oh that cracked rib), and she had only survived the journey by being drugged the entire time. Some time later, Anna had come to awareness only to discover she was in her own bedroom, her legs lifted in traction, her world distilled down to physical agony and spiritual despair.

She closed her eyes, and started to breathe through her pain, and her memories.

"Lady Skaldenfoss?" she heard Elsa ask from the front seat, a few minutes later.

Anna opened her eyes only to see Elsa looking back at her, immense concern writ clearly upon her face. "I'm all right," Anna said quietly.

Elsa's eyes flickered momentarily over to Kristoff, the meaning obvious. Was Anna being stoic in the face of their driver? "Truly?" Elsa mouthed, in silence.

Anna nodded and looked back out the window, confronting old demons with every kilometer even as the pain continued to carve furrows into her flesh.

She welcomed the pain, for it helped her bury her husband anew; with every kilometer, Hans became more ghost-like, his influence more ephemeral.

His lies, his disloyalty to be buried just as deep under the ground as he himself lay.

But even Anna could not know if his death would bring new life.

Had the Baroness Falk wept upon hearing of his demise? Just what had Hans Arendelle meant to this one woman, among many, whom he had loved?

Anna looked at Elsa, whose gaze had now returned to the journey ahead. She beheld the twist of white-gold hair, the length of neck now revealed. Anna saw how slender her shoulders were, and admired the dark-green colour of the dress and coat she wore.

And Anna Arendelle had a sudden premonition of the nature of home, and the nature of a journey; Iskall Slott was her home, and everything Scarborough represented was not, yet the journey was important, for the journey was Elsa Wolff herself.

Elsa had once called Anna her home.

But there was something about Elsa that could not be labelled likewise; for Elsa was not the land, immovable nor immense. No, Elsa could only be classified as changeable and immense as the sea.

For the sea itself was a journey, one which shortly awaited her.

And who cared for any destination, when the journey itself was so joyous?

…

Things were slightly chaotic at the harbour. Kristoff got them as close to the landing as possible before wrangling help from some of the ship's boys for all of their luggage. Elsa was brisk in loading Anna into her wheelchair and taking her on board. A ship's mate was there to check their tickets and direct them to an upper deck. A maid greeted them, and escorted them to their chambers.

Elsa thought of her passage in steerage just a few weeks prior. With the bunkbeds, with the rats. With her bucket nearby.

So she looked upon this luxurious apartment with all gratitude and joy, as the maid opened the doors and showed them their home for the next two to three days. Their apartment consisted of a sitting room, with a balcony that overlooked the sea, two bedchambers, one clearly larger and meant for the lady, and their own private bathing chamber.

The maid introduced herself as Marta and said she would be waiting on them throughout their journey.

"Good," Elsa said, quite crisply. She reached into her kit for her hot water bladder. "We have immediate needs. Fill this with near boiling water and bring it back as swift as you are able. Then we shall need tea, and sandwiches, unless other luncheon has been prepared."

Marta looked between Elsa and Lady Skaldenfoss, now slumped over slightly in her chair. Anna nodded, barely. Then Marta curtsied, took the bladder and left.

Kristoff and two ship's boys were right on their heels, bearing the first of several trips of luggage. "I'll tan the hide of anyone who makes a racket," Elsa hissed as she wheeled Anna into the larger private bedchamber. A smaller chamber adjoined it, which would normally have been the dressing room for the husband, but would be Elsa's quarters for the journey.

"How forceful you can be!" Anna chuckled weakly as Elsa took her right into the room and closed the door behind them. Her heart was soaring in spite of the pain that gnawed on her; once again this woman had proved to be her champion, her knight!

"Forgive me," Elsa said as she helped Anna move from the wheelchair to the bed.

"Though your threats might have been more useful, had they been spoken in Norwegian. Even the English you used was a bit… strange." Anna panted with the effort of moving from the chair to the bed. "Seriously, Elsa, tan their hide?"

"Did you expect anything else of a prairie girl? My lady, face the center of the bed. Don't worry, I won't muss your hair too badly. You probably don't want to miss us setting sail."

"You're right, I love the sound of the gulls, the people calling their farewells, have you no idea of the power of setting upon a journey such as this?" Anna asked as Elsa helped her lay on her side, facing the center of the bed. She placed her head carefully on the pillow. She winced and hissed in pain as Elsa arranged her legs and aligned her spine.

"I care not for the Internet, my next invention will be a portable massage table," Elsa hissed under her breath. "My lady, it is your back, is it not? What else pains you?"

Anna's head was abuzz with pain, so she barely marked what Elsa had said. "My back, yes. My head as always. Do you not enjoy casting off, Elsa? Does the journey ahead not delight you? The seas, are they not divine?"

Elsa was already undoing the buttons and laces of her dress, exposing her altered shift. "Unfortunately, my lady, there is very little of the sea-faring experience that I enjoy. Perhaps one day I shall tell you more of the tale of how I came to hate the ocean. But now, if I may be so bold as to ask, why are you being so glib? You are in pain but you seem so… happy."

"This is the first voyage I have taken in a very long time, and certainly the first as a free woman, unencumbered by husband and family, with such prospects of healing and joy and absolute freedom before me. I feel light as a feather… oh!"

Elsa had oiled her hands and she began to rub Anna's naked back. They could hear bumps and curses coming from their private lounge as Kristoff continued to monitor the unloading of the luggage. They listened for a time as Elsa continued to rub Anna's back. "So when does the hide tanning begin?" Anna asked as one of the sailors cursed rather loudly in Norwegian.

"Oh, I could attend to it this very moment," and Elsa lifted her hands away from Anna's back.

Anna glanced back at her. "Don't you dare! Hands front and center, Elsa Wolff."

"Yes, m'lady." Elsa resumed the massage and watched as Anna's body slowly began to relax.

And Elsa was filled with wonder and amazement for this new side of Anna Arendelle, a facet of her lady's character she had only glimpsed in small doses in the last seven weeks of their work together. Had it been the accident alone that had doused this part of Anna's spirit, or had the Baron done his part to control his wife and curb her spirits?

This carefree jubilation was something Elsa had rarely experienced; she felt the innocence of it like kitten claws in her heart.

Elsa's hands had trained Anna's body well; she could feel her lady grow softer as she continued to relax. Hopefully the pain was diminishing as well.

A knock soon came on the door; it was Marta with the hot water bladder. Elsa reluctantly took her hands off Anna's body to answer the door. "When do we cast off?" Elsa asked as she took the item.

"An hour hence, Miss Wolff."

"Thank you. Please deliver the tea and sandwiches in forty minutes." Elsa shut the door on the help and wrapped the hot water bladder against Anna's lower back, and then tucked her lady under the blanket and sheets. "Half an hour, my lady. Rest here for half an hour."

"M'kay. Do you have to go?" Anna asked. She must have detected something in Elsa's demeanour.

"Let me see to the luggage and fare Kristoff farewell. Then I'll return. I'll stay with you. Now. Rest, dearest heart."

"I will, if you come back to me." Her voice was already heavy, thick with clouds.

Elsa had to leash in the words that would have escaped her mouth, I will always come back to you. Instead, she said, "Two minutes, dear one."

"I will count every moment," Anna whispered.

Then she fell asleep.

Elsa stared at her. At her red hair, streaked now with grey. At the pale scar upon her temple. At the wizened, yet recuperating body underneath the sheets. As she looked at her lady, and felt the small movements of the ship on the water, even anchored as it was upon the harbour, Elsa cast a prayer to any deity that could be listening and asked, please help her, please heal my lady, please bring her so much love and peace.

As Elsa left the room to talk with Kristoff and the servants, she had no idea that she herself would be the answer. That she would be the one to bring so much love and peace.

And, in turn, she would receive the same from this lady who now slept before her.

For thus began their journey, the truest journey either of them would ever experience in their lifetimes.

So much love.

So much peace.

For such would be the greatest journey of all; to experience pain, to experience hardship, even to bare their very souls and have them stripped to the bone; and still find love and peace within.

For such is the journey of all.

...

Author's Note: This story has become my salvation. Dear readers, I'm having some difficult times, struggling a bit with life, love, and writing. If this story means anything to you, please leave a comment. I could use some positive energy just now. - Jen