Chapter 31

~ A Song of Blood and Blame ~

Anna crashed to her knees. The darkness clinched her, and her own tear and saliva threatened to drown her.

She welcomed it.

Elsa, who'd been nothing but the kindest person she had ever known, who'd finally embraced her magic as a force of a good… only to be worn like a skin to hurt the very people she love, to mangle her own kingdom, and to pervert everything she believed in.

There was nothing, nothing as abhorrent in the world.

How long had her sister watched with eyes that no longer obeyed her? How long had she thrashed and wept within her prison of a body, before the demon finally granted her the mercy of death?

I was beside her. And I was utterly blind.

"We are together again, that's all that matters," Elsa had said after they returned with the Splendor. Not two minutes later, the older girl slapped her. Hours later, they made up, crying in each other's shoulders. "I shouldn't have lost control, shouldn't have hurt you," Elsa said. It took less than a day for everything to fall apart again. Yet Anna knew somehow, Elsa must've been warning her.

A pale face, with cracked lips and stringy hair, loomed over her. "Silly. You said you were my sister."

Anna clutched her head as the memories churned. Which were Elsa's words? Or was it all the imposter's?

Perhaps the person that Anna had embraced was nothing more than a husk. Perhaps her sister had died the instant her body was taken. If so, she should take solace in the fact that Elsa hadn't suffered long.

It was Elsa's face which loomed over her now, baring her teeth as she sneered, "Silly. Silly. Silly."

She's right. I'm the greatest fool in the world.

Her sister was gone, Kristoff was dead or dying, Olaf had melted, and Arendelle was in the grip of a demon.

Something closed over her arm, and she gasped. The trolls surrounded her, propping her up. She stared at the one closest to her; his face was gnarled, and his eyes were sunken holes. Another approached, holding her cape with fingers of mossy pebbles; she couldn't tell if this one was male or female. Even Cliff, with his uneven teeth and mottled skin, startled Anna.

How could such unnatural things exist?

"You knew."

Her face must've given her thoughts away, because they lurched back with widened eyes, and she fell forward again.

"You knew what Freya was." She raked her gaze upon them all. "But you didn't stop me. You told me she was in Weselton. You caused this!" Her fingers clawed on the ground and she was dimly aware of her nails popping.

"YOU CAUSED THIS!"

She saw herself raining blows upon them, pulverizing their clumsy bodies with her fists. It'd be worth it to see their ashes even if she shattered every finger. She glanced about for a weapon.

"Anna!" Bulda alone dared to approach. "How could you say this? We would never!"

Such audacious words. Such lies. Anna forced herself up. "Save it. Elsa… Elsa's death is–"

"Enough."

One voice cut across all other. Of course it had to be him. The trolls parted to reveal Pabbie standing before her with spread arms, looking all self-righteous. Thinking himself a wise king, always waiting for the right moment to show up. But he was just a feeble lump of moss-covered rock.

"You… dare…"

"Reflect on your words, child," Pabbie said, closing in. "You know what I mean."

Anna faltered under his look. She twisted away, gulping for air. Don't back down, fool! He's doing it again, trying to confuse you. He knows magic, yet he stood by without helping. You won't be tricked again, not this time.

"You dumb rock," she heard herself say over the gasps of the trolls. "You were never on our side. You wanted Elsa dead. You tricked my parents all those years ago, made them lock her up. All our hardship's because of you. Kristoff and Elsa are gone, are you happy now? Are you?!" She levelled a finger at him. "No wonder your kind was banished to this place."

Anna felt savage glee when Pabbie flinched. She steeled herself, but he never took the bait. Instead, his face was carved with hurt. "I pleaded with you, not to go to Weselton to find this child of magic like Elsa."

"She's nothing like Elsa!"

"Then you should've heeded my words."

"I did! I– Shut up!" she tugged on her hair. "Stop your lies! Shut up! Shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup–!"

"Child, you must stop blaming yourself." Pabbie was crying. "No one wanted this."

A knife sawed through Anna's chest.

They warned me, each and every one of them. Kristoff, the trolls, Elsa, the people of Weselton, the Warden, even the Duke. They told me what Freya was, but I wouldn't listen. I– I–

She would never see Elsa's smile again. Hear her laughter, or hold her hand again. The sobs ripped through Anna. She kneeled over, wheezing.

"I killed Elsa."

Clarity. There was only one way to fix this now. Anna lifted her face to the sky, drawing one long breath. She smashed her head against the ground.

I let my sister get possessed.

She lurched back, lighting splitting through her skull to her spine. Then the ground hurtled up again. Static screamed into her ears and her body throbbed from the impact. Something wet ran down her nose.

I did this. I did this to Kristoff. I did this to Olaf. I did this to us.

The trolls grabbed at her, but she elbowed them away and plunged again. Spots filled her vision. Yet sweet pain eluded her still. She hadn't punished herself enough.

My fault– my fault– my fault–

The trolls wrenched Anna up, infuriatingly strong despite their size. Sven shoved himself before her, denying her the kiss of the ground. She banged her head into their bodies instead. She barely heard them screaming her name, or saw the glow from Pabbie's hands.

Waking was like leaving mom's embrace, with her furs and scent and warmth. Kristoff waited for dad to ruffle his hair, but his touch never came. The air grew chilly and thin, and finally he had to pry his eyes open.

He was curled up against a stone wall. The floor was hard on his side, with tendrils of mist wafting about. As he exhaled on his fingers, his breathing came out as a raspy whistle. He felt a hundred years older.

Where am I?

Bars dotted with rust stood sentry over him. For a wild moment he thought he was back in Freya's cell, then he saw the wooden rafters above, so old they'd faded into a dark grey. That at least, he recognized as Arendelle architecture, but there were neither windows nor sun; he had to be somewhere deep.

A row of cells faced him. All were empty.

He stumbled towards the bars. His thick hands closed around two, and he heaved with all his might. The darn things didn't even bulge. He tested each bar, rapping from top to bottom. One seemed to creak louder than the rest, and Kristoff tried to wrench it loose, tugging and twisting.

Moments later, he fell back, gasping for breath.

When he closed his eyes, he was back on the waterfall. The woman before him seemed in all ways Elsa, but the soul within wasn't. She raised her hands at him. The last thing he remembered was a blast of ice, and Elsa's cries of 'Anna' ringing in his ears.

"Hey, is anyone out there?" Kristoff beat on the metal. "Someone! Princess Anna is in danger! Guards! Kai! Gerda! Olaf! Dammit, will someone answer me?"

Fear rushed into him like a hurricane. There was no doubt about it - he was in the dungeons. He remembered the stories, an archaic prison in the bowels of the castle for murderers and heretics – Arendelle's version of the Belly of the Beast. Queen Idunn had supposedly sealed it up twenty years ago.

A cough sounded.

He leapt back, raising his fists. But nothing came darting out of the shadows.

"We meet again, Kristoff."

That voice. He inched forward till he pressed against the bars. At the end of the walkway was a cell like his. A figure sat within, shrouded in darkness.

Kristoff tensed. Then he realized he wasn't facing a hardened criminal but an old man, hunched and dirty. The beard and clothes were strangely familiar…

"Mayor Rasmus?"

"The ice harvester has joined me. Fancy that."

"What're you doing here? Anna and I thought you were with the other Weseltoners."

A chuckle sounded, but there was no mirth in it. "The queen took special interest in me."

He would've asked why, but there was a more pressing question. "Did you see Anna?"

"The queen herself stood outside your cell, watching for a good hour. Before leaving, she turned to me and she said, 'when he wakes, tell him Anna got away'." Ramus peered at him curiously. "You are here for a reason."

That tone was too suggestive.

"You know that Freya has taken over her," Kristoff ventured.

"Only days ago. Today she dropped you here for finding out. Mayhap she intends to fill up all these empty cells one by one. With any luck, Princess Anna shall be joining us tomorrow."

With any luck, Anna would be far away by now with my buddy.

Kristoff sat down heavily. He winched and pulled his shirt up. Blotches of purple-black were painted over his stomach and ribs. He counted himself lucky that Freya attack had cost him nothing more than a comfortable night's rest.

"Now what?" Kristoff said.

"Now we pray to God she decides to kill us, rather than torture us. Not that I could blame her. We must all pay for our mistakes."

Kristoff met his eyes. "Just what did you do?"

"More like what I failed to do. I am sorry, Kristoff. If I had run Belking better… Stopped the villagers from hurting her… Or dismantled that damned prison…" Rasmus covered his face with a trembling hand. "I knew her as a little girl. Could not be prouder if she was my own daughter. You would not know so but she was good once."

"Hey, I believe you," Kristoff said. I never gave Freya a chance either.

"But the town didn't. All they saw was a demon. Ahhh. So stupid to say this now since we are both dead men, but I could have averted this if I had hired more hunters to clear the woods. It does things to you, to see all those dead wolves, and a child covered in their blood. I admit, I thought her a hellspawn myself that very moment. Magic. Always down to magic. If God was good, he would not have allowed her or Queen Elsa to be born so."

"It's thoughts like that which led to Freya–"

"I know! Goddammit, I know. Forgive the ramblings of an old fool. I should not have allowed Arendelle to bear my sins. I say it again, Kristoff: I am sorry, Elsa's death is on me."

"You don't know that she's dead."

Rasmus sighed. "Their father said the same thing too. Locked her up. Condemned himself to be her warden. Every day, he prayed two hours to the good Lord to return Christina to us. Just let me see my little girl again, he asked. Never happened once in fifteen years. He changed, Kristoff. Two beautiful girls, and my good friend, lost in one accident."

A chill ran down Kristoff's spine. "The Warden was Freya's father?"

Rasmus laughed. "Fucked up, is it not?" Then giggles became sobs. "Freya adored her little sister. If Christina was still alive, you think she would not have let her go? No, Kristoff. I know Freya well enough to give her at least that much. Your queen is dead."

"Elsa's stronger than you think."

"Just you watch. Freya Solberg will take her revenge on my kingdom. And not a single soul can stop her. The world shall only see the Queen of Arendelle laying waste to her enemies. Do you think Elsa would want to return then? I would sooner die."

Kristoff buried his head in his hands. He had to find Anna. But how? A blanket, straw bed, and a plate, filled with what looked like gruel, were all that shared his prison. He tapped on the bars again.

"You waste your time, ice harvester. Let Freya decide our fates. This is the depth of our sins."

During their voyage, Kristoff had exchanged few words with Rasmus. He rarely showed himself, instead letting Thomas be the liaison between Weselton and Arendelle. But each appearance had commanded an air of respect from his crew; even Kristoff was impressed then.

Now, he was growing fast irritated of this fatalism. The mayor had long surrendered, but not this ice harvester. The trolls raised him a fighter, and his fiancée was still out there. He jerked hard on the iron rods. They were decades, if not centuries old; surely one had to give!

"Why do you bother? Even he has given up," Rasmus said.

Kristoff paused. "Who?"

"The young man by your left. Quiet lad, might even be mute."

The bars prevented Kristoff from peeking. He reached out and waved. "Hey, whoever you are. You can see my hand, right? Who are you?"

There was no answer. He couldn't tell if Rasmus was lying. Who else could possibly know about Freya besides the crew of the Splendor?

The answer struck like a blow.

"You're from the Eternity, aren't you?"

From beside came the rustling of clothes and a long, drawn breath. "Her first mate. Aye."

"Sorby? You're alive. Elsa– Freya said that the guards had slain you and Lars."

"Not the first thing she's lied about, I reckon," Rasmus said. "Now that I think of it… Kristoff, was that not the ship that stranded Princess Anna and you on Weselton?"

"It was. Just what happened, Sorby?" Kristoff said. "The Eternity was gone when Anna and I returned to the harbour. We were told later that when your ship docked in Arendelle, Lars and you attacked her. You knew that Freya had taken over Elsa, didn't you?"

No reply came.

"Sorby? Come on man, you can tell us everything. She's not here."

"It's because of me... that Queen Elsa was possessed."

"Wait, what?"

The young man grunted. "We were waiting for you two to return. And that's when she came– this cloaked woman with white skin like a ghost in the night, claiming Her Highness sent her. Should've known better. We… let her on."

"She hijacked the Eternity," Kristoff said.

"She threatened to kill us all. Capt had no choice." The first mate was out of sight, but Kristoff could see the anguish on his face. He'd always liked Sorby whose nervous energy reminded him of Sven. "The crew knew something was up, but Freya hid herself too well. All the way through, she held either Capt or I hostage in the cabin, while the other relayed orders to the ship. Right before we reached, she had Capt order everyone off. But not us two. She made me lure Her Majesty into the cabin. I– I had no idea what she was planning."

Kristoff closed his eyes.

"I swear! I swear! I thought Her Majesty would win. I would've fought by her side if I knew, die for her even, but Freya took me out. I was here when I woke, and Her– Her Majesty was no longer herself."

A plate flew out of Sorby's cell, smacking against the wall before clattering onto the floor.

"We did as she asked. I–I even tied Capt up for her; he was no threat! Why did she kill him!"

"He… knew too much. He must've pleaded for you, to trade his life for yours," Kristoff guessed. And he tried to strangle Freya to save us all, but Jakob and Roy killed him instead.

To that, Sorby only howled like a wretched thing.

"Your captain is an honourable man. May God in all his wisdom judge him fairly." Rasmus raised his plate as if toasting.

How fitting that the men most responsible for the fall of Arendelle would be incarcerated together. Rasmus, who had failed Freya as a child. Sorby, the hostage who unknowingly helped Freya to steal Elsa's body. And he, who should've tried harder to dissuade his fiancée from her accursed quest.

But at least she escaped. That's all that matters.

The jingle of keys sounded, and a door swung open. Light spilled into the dungeon, then withdrew with a slam. By the heavy stomps, Kristoff wouldn't have been surprised if the Warden himself appeared. But it was the guard captain who stepped into view. This was either very good or very bad.

"Eirik." Kristoff stood up. "Just the man I wanted to see."

Eirik Ingegerd tilted his head, studying him. "You attacked Queen Elsa."

The accusation wasn't exactly wrong. Kristoff wasn't sure whether to laugh or plead; how could he possibly convince Eirik of his innocence? Sure, they weren't enemies, but they weren't friends either.

He was still groping for words when he saw the key gleaming in the guard captain's hand. Seconds later, his cell was opened.

"You're letting me go?"

"Not exactly." Eirik drew his blade.

The tang of blood was in Anna's mouth as she stirred. At once, the trolls were by her side, helping her up. Her eyelids were crusted over, and her throat a furnace.

She patted her forehead and nose. There was an ache deep within, like the remnant of a week-old bruise. But nothing was broken.

"Pabbie healed you," Cliff said.

"Again." Anna squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry I said–"

"Doesn't matter. Go, talk to him." Bulda inclined her head.

Pabbie sat on the edge of a shallow pool with his back to her. His feet up to his knees were submerged. A thousand stars seemed to glitter in the water. As Anna approached, she saw there were in fact millions. Every second, the pattern wavered like sand blown by wind, changing as if it reflected the constellations from every corner of the universe.

A memory came to her, unbidden. Vale lagoon – a mystical pool said to be carved by the Earth Father, the most sacred artefact of the trolls. Only younglings and the eldest of their kind were permitted to bath in it. Even Kristoff had only seen it once from far.

They were here for a reason.

"I'm sorry, Grandpabbie. Those things I said…"

Anna felt like she was floating outside her body. She no longer recognized herself; dishevelled, hurt, and begging the forgiveness of a troll king. It seemed a lifetime ago when Elsa and she had hugged and bid each other farewell. Just how did everything turn out like this?

"Come closer, my dear."

Wordlessly, Anna obeyed. She crouched next to him, but refrained from touching the water; she somehow knew she wasn't permitted to. They sat there in silence.

The night was alive with the singing of crickets, and pulsing motes of light which danced among the trees. Fireflies. They thrived, for even the winter did not molest the valley. Elsa would've enjoyed herself here. A fire began to burn in Anna's eyes.

"You love her," Pabbie said.

"I would die for her."

"I know. I wanted to protect you."

His words confused her. "From what?"

Pabbie only stared blankly ahead. Anna remained perched next to him till her thighs groaned. Just as she was about to shift, he spoke again. "You didn't know it'd come to this. It's not your fault."

"Why not? We've been apart for so many years. I thought I had to make up for it somehow, find Elsa the friend she never had, someone with magic who understood what she went through."

"My dear, who really understood Elsa's suffering best but you? All she needed was you by her side."

Anna wedged her eyes shut, far too weary to cry even. The grief was beyond what her heart would contain. If she could tear it out now, she'd do so gladly. But she suspected Pabbie would simply heal her before it even got that far.

"I can remove your pain. I can make it go away."

Anna chewed on her lips. "No. No. I deserve all of it."

"I wanted to protect you, from what you'd do to save her." Pabbie turned around. "Hand me your cape."

Anna's heart hammered against her chest. Pabbie held up the dolls, examining them under the moonlight. "Beautiful. Did Elsa sew them?"

She nodded. "Every night in secret. On the last, she didn't even sleep so it'd be ready before my trip. It… was the last time I saw the real Elsa."

Cupping the dolls in his hands, Pabbie held them to his face, closing his eyes as if listening for a heartbeat. He began to whisper, to himself or to the dolls Anna knew not, words she couldn't hear clearly but somehow knew were ancient. The pool reacted as colours burst into life between the stars, green swirling into purple into yellow into blue. Then star and rainbow meshed into pure white, and the glow flowed up Pabbie's feet and into the dolls.

Anna dared not speak or breathe.

An eternity crawled by before the light subsided, thrusting them into darkness. Anna's chest was close to exploding. Even the crickets' song had faded, and she knew that every creature in the valley awaited his answer.

Pabbie lifted his head, his eyes blinking like a pair of lanterns.

"Elsa is alive."