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Chapter Text

Elsa stands alone in the entryway of her palace and stares at the large ice doors Anna left through. Her eyes chase the up the latticework of ice and down the edges of stylized snowflakes decorating the lintel. The magic that only hours ago brought her such pride has once more become the bane of the existence.

Still, she hovers at the doors.

She doesn’t know what she’s waiting for. A knock, probably. Anna asking to make a snowman. Neither comes. After her last outburst, Anna must understand that Elsa is dangerous… Which is what she wanted, Elsa reminds herself. Even if it means that she never hears her sister’s sweet voice and deft knocking again. This is what she’s sown, hurting Anna with her ice again and again.

There’s a rap on the door.

Elsa scrambles to open it. A berating comment and an apology are formed in each side of her mouth. She finds herself wordless when she sees a brunet boy standing where her sister should be.

“Hi, Elsa!” That strange boy from earlier. Sora, or something. She feels exhausted and frustrated by her own expectation.

Elsa turns away. “What do you want, Sora?”

Sora blinks and frowns. “I thought I’d knock ‘cause you’re a queen. Am I supposed to bow, too?” His bow is quick and wobbling.

Elsa stares.

“Do you see a crown on my head? I’m not a queen. Not anymore.” She clenches her hands, feels the power building again, feeding off her negativity. “I’m just this now.”

The ice gathers in her hands the moment she thinks of it. She looks at Sora. Hurting him isn’t her goal, but he shouldn’t be so comfortable, so at ease with her when she has this power at her beck and call… and sometimes beyond that.

“Oh, cool. I mean, I can do magic too.” Sora’s weapon appears in his hands. “Blizzara!”

Elsa watches an ice projectile, less elegant but no less powerful than her own, blow past her head and amass a small ice structure against the wall.

She stares at him and then at the ice.

Elsa walks over to the formation and touches it. The branches are pleasantly cold. She has always been able to tell the difference between ice she makes and ice from the sky. Sora’s ice has a different feel than either, but something closer to her own, she thinks.

He’s like her. At least a little.

Something must show on her face because he smiles, spins his weapon.

“Step back, ‘cause that’s not all I got!” She steps away and makes a little translucent shield. Another incantation and fire sprouts from his weapon and dissolves his ice and part of her castle. She stomps her foot to reassemble the structure while her mind races.

She’s never met anyone else who could use magic, let alone opposite elements.

“You can use magic, too,” she says. “You’re a sorceress like me.”

Sora frowns and tilts his head left, then right.

“A sorceress?” Sora hums. “Donald called me a wizard once, but I don’t actually know the difference. Yeah, I’m a sorceress too.”

Wizard, she thinks the word to herself. Her parents didn’t read her fairytales involving magic, and she never had the stomach to investigate the magic heritage buried in history books. Magic has existed in Arendelle before, but rarely, and with plenty of fear and evil surrounding the occurrences. No one talks about it.

She knows words about sorcery and magic, but wizard. Another word for a person who does magic. As if there needs to be more than one title.

Elsa watches the other magic user in the room. They are the same, then, but the difference between them feels vast. The word sorceress weighs Elsa down, a mantle to call her burden, but that same mantle Sora shrugs on like a roomy coat.

The odd, tower-like weapon in his hand turns to light and dissolves with a single gesture and Sora starts swinging his arms. He seems so at ease with magic, like it doesn’t interrupt the air to talk about it. More than that, he has words for it, language to talk about it and its users.

She opens her mouth to ask more, to inquire about how deep his knowledge goes, what does wizard mean— but she closes it again.

Elsa has been trying to let things go —her shame, the burning fear in her stomach— but despite her resolve, the negative emotions might just have a place, considering how she keeps hurting people. As much as she wants to be free, as long as she has these powers, she’s dangerous.

She cannot forget that.

“You should leave. It’s not— it’s not safe for you here,” she says, trying to focus on what matters and not dwell on meeting her first sorceress.

“Why?”

As her frustration builds so do small ice spikes around the ground.

“Oh right,” Sora says, seeming to remember now that she had almost speared him before. She tightens her hands and halts their growth. A deep breath in and out.

“I can’t control my emotions and consequentially this happens.” She waves a hand and smooths out the spikes into the immaculate flooring.

Sora seems unbothered by the display. “You just need training is all.”

“Training?” She’s never met anyone else who does magic, but she’s realizing that perhaps there are more people like her out there than she thought. People who might fill the role of instructor and as a former-queen that is a familiar concept. She learned from many people the ins and outs of rulership in lieu of her parents’ guiding hands.

“I was trained by a wizard named Merlin. Donald helps me too, but he’s a court magician, not a wizard... I also don’t know the difference between those two.”

“Whose court does he serve?” She’s struck by the realization that while she has cast off the mantle of ruler, that doesn’t make her worthless in the larger political scheme.

Her suspicions grow deeper when Sora rubs the back of his head and looks all the world like he’s said something he shouldn’t have.

“He doesn’t live here. Anywhere near here. Like, I couldn’t point it out on a map if I tried, and I’m pretty good at geography and maps and stuff.”

Sora’s graceless recovery is enough to make Elsa snort. If Sora and Donald are part of some nefarious plot against her, it isn’t well constructed. She still makes a note of it in the back of her mind and thinks about writing it in her royal journal where she writes all of her political plans and potential threats against the kingdom.

In her solitude, sometimes the only thing that brought her any pleasure was seeing the political plans from her journal enacted and watching on parchment and through the window as Arendelle prospered from her decisions. She remembers that she had planned to start a holiday on her anniversary of her parents’ death that would also give a spotlight to the wheat farmers, whose products were losing out to the new influx of trade goods from the Western Islets.

Then she remembers that she isn’t the queen, only has a kingdom of ice, and the journal is back in Arendelle far from her grasp.

She can conjure an ice journal, can write anything she wants on the mountainside, alone as she is. But that journal was passed on to her by her parents, inherited down the line through generations and can only be opened by Arendelle royal blood. The journal is her parents’ handwriting, curves of their letters guiding her own hand as she made plans for five and ten years down the line.

She realizes she’ll never see it again. Never enact another law, never see everything she’s known all her life…

…never see Anna again.

It’s for the best, she reminds herself, stomach knotted and awful.

“I know you need to figure things out on your own,” Sora says, looking troubled. “But, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean on friends while you do!”

His eyes are wide, and the blue is more intense in the aquamarine lighting of her castle. She unclenches her hands, realizing she’s revealed too much of herself and that he is more aware than she gave him credit for.

She thinks about all the things and people (person— Anna, Anna) she never got to say goodbye to. Even if she never gets to return to them, it still can’t hurt to try and gain a little control of her powers, in case someone wanders up here again.

Sora was just a teenager out of place in the snow and yet she almost…

Her ice is all sharp edge and seething chill. If she could curve those points, ease the intensity and make it just a little safer for others, well, that would be nice.

 “If you think you can help…” She straightens her spine. “Then very well. We shall attempt it. Although, Sora, you really must be careful around me. Don’t let your guard down for even a moment.”

Almost in reaction to her words, his hands slide behind his head and lace together. His smile unfolds, open and easy.

“If that makes you feel better, then sure thing! You don’t have to worry about me though. I’m a sorceress too, after all.”

Elsa snorts. He’s so convincing… but he’s right that he’s strong at least. His aptitude with fire magic is something that Elsa can’t fathom. Ice is so ingrained in her, but even dual-wielding his fire was strong enough to melt some of her fortresses. The floor sagged as the wall evaporated and the staccato dripping of water…

Her eyes go wide.

“Sora! Your fire magic melted my castle.”

Sora winces.

“Uh, I’m sorry about that. Donald’s always saying I need to be more careful—”

“No, I mean.” She runs a hand through her mussed hair. “I mean, could you do it again, on a bigger scale?”

“Huh? Why?”

“Anna said I accidentally started an everlasting winter.”

“You mean it’s not always this cold?” Sora says.

“It’s summer,” Elsa says and winces when she sees Sora’s bulging eyes. She continues, “I want it to stop, but I— I don’t know how to melt it. I can only freeze things.”

Sora pauses again. When he does talk it’s almost under his breath.

“Maybe if Donald and I do it together… and I use some grandmagic…” He shakes himself and says to her. “We can always try! And maybe if you get control of your powers, you’ll figure out how to do it yourself!”

She can’t help the doubt that wells up. Her only ability is to freeze, to suck warmth, to hurt those around her—

“There’s a lot that magic can be,” Sora says.

Elsa gives him a wan smile.

“Regardless of how it happens, we should head to Castletown and try… at least around the outskirts.”

If that gives her an opportunity to catch a glimpse of her sister and make sure she’s okay, then so be it. Her heart twinges, aching with the old pain of contrasting desires and she brushes it away with a deft hand, focuses on Sora’s earnest gaze.

“Right, we can work on your control along the way. It’s going to be dangerous, so you’ll have plenty of practice.”

Elsa remembers the dark creatures so unlike the wildlife around and frowns.

“I’ll be ready,” she says.

She glances around at the chandelier and her perfect doors and prepares to leave her exile much sooner than she expected.

Chapter Text

The air outside is warmer than in the palace. Elsa doesn't care for it.

Elsa draws the towering doors shut with her powers and glances up. The palace’s outer edifice ebbs and flows into cascading spires and smooth buttresses. It nestles into the side of the mountain in such a way that she is spared the view of Castletown but granted a perfect visage of the setting sun over the northern mountains. If Sora succeeds in ending this winter, it won't be here when she gets back… She can always make it again.

Sora proposes they jump off the mountain because that will be fastest. He trails off as he notices her aghast expression.

"The snow's really soft!" he protests. "And besides, I can use an aero —air magic— to cushion our fall." At the mention of a third magic, her esteem of him rises from the ocean floor it fell to when he mentioned jumping off a mountain peak.

"Walking will suffice, I think," she says. She examines her shoes. While they are perfect, they won't do for marching in the snow; she'll slip right through the top layers. She flicks her wrist and draws the shape of her shoe out and up. The end product is an elegant turquoise boot that's still the kind of thing her advisor would cry if he saw her wearing, but also good for walking atop the snow.

Sora's eyes are wide and awed. She flicks her hair, pleased with herself. "Shall we?" she asks.

The two fall in-step. After a few moments, she presses, "Where are your friends now? Donald and Goofy, was it?"

"It's funny you mention that. They got thrown off the mountain by your snow golem thing." His laughter trails off when he notices her staring with no little dismay.

"They're fine," he qualifies. "Like I said, the snow is so soft here! That's like our second or third fall, to be honest. I wasn't on the cliff that broke off, so I ducked your guard and went back to the palace."

She continues staring.

"What?" he drags out the syllable.

"It's simply impressive how someone can fall off a mountain twice in such a short period of time." Saying it aloud, she laughs to herself daintily. Then pauses, as she realizes Sora is about as far from the court life as anyone can get.

She laughs again and it's louder, not quite ugly like that snorting thing Anna does, but it's a good sound; a new, and unusual thing ferried by the outside air. Merry, she thinks, trying out the word.

Sora joins in even though it's at his expense. "I'm glad to be walking down the mountain," he says. “That avalanche was no fun!”

Elsa sees him flinch before ducking a sudden spray of ice.

Whipping around, Elsa sees the same creatures that attacked her before. Deerlike, but not deer, and some flying blue figures. They all feel eerie and wrong in their dissimilitude to everything she knows is natural.

Heartless, Goofy had called them. They feel that way, like small pockets of absence.

"Looks like we're going to start our practice now!" Sora says, summoning his weapon. Elsa grips her fists against the instinctual flight instinct and digs her boot in the ground for good footing.

Three of the deer charge her at once. She throws ice at one, freezing it into an ice block and then running out of the way from the others. The deer in the ice block blinks eerie yellow eyes before Sora appears and shatters the form.

The creeping feeling slackens as the Heartless disperses and light escapes the shadowy remnants.

"Here!" She catches what he throws. In her hands is some kind of rod.

"It should boost your magic and it's great for whacking things!" Sora says. Elsa feels sick at the thought of stronger magic. Even holding it she can feel her power surging like a wave gathering strength to crash down and wreak havoc—

She makes an ice glove to hold it and uses her hands to freeze the creatures. She swings the rod to shatter the ice. Stronger powers won’t help and aren’t necessary. She has more than enough strength.

They finish the rush of enemies and Elsa exhales.

"Wow! You're really good at this."

"Thanks." She offers him a small smile. "But be careful you don't get in the way of my magic!" she warns him again.

"Right, right." Sora twirls his weapon. His eyes dart to a copse of trees. She traces his gaze and does a doubletake at the purple ladies spinning their parasols amidst the blizzard. Her first instinct is to assume they’re guests from the coronation… who wandered up the mountain? She doubts it. As they edge closer, she feels the same uneasy sensation as with the deer. Heartless, she’s sure.

"Hope you're ready for more. They shoot lasers from their umbrellas," Sora says.

"What's a las—"

Sora knocks her feet out and she watches a burning purple beam shoot over her head and ignite a tree behind her.

Today, she's learned the word wizard and the word laser.

Articulating the utter bewilderment on her lips has to wait because the purple ladies are soon taking aim again. Elsa pushes up a thick ice shield and Sora appears at her side. Purple lasers bombard the shield, forcing her to reinforce the structure.

"Can you make another shield by that rock?" Sora points.

With one hand rebuilding the disintegrating shield, she uses her other to draw up another wall. Sora slides out of their cover and fires his own energy beams. Elsa watches, impressed, as he mows one enemy down before ducking into the other wall. Rapid fire, she draws up three more. While she hurls ice spears, Sora darts through the landscape of walls to fire upon their enemies.

Soon, the last purple lady unravels into shadows. Sora whoops and gives Elsa a high five before she can jerk away.

"You ready for more?" he asks.

Her eyes narrow at the challenge. She admits the strategic aspect of the battles interests her. Years of her life have been sunk into mastering the art of battle command. While this is no cavalry unit or naval battle, her adept mind stretches to bridge the gap between her studies and their impending scuffles. Her own battle prowess was never meant to be part of the equation, but it gives them an edge. Tallying their advantages, she’s pleased to find that between the two of them and their magic, the possibilities are numerous. Sora senses it too and gives her a toothy grin.

They continue down the mountain and encounter more. Fighting is frightening, Elsa finds, but also exhilarating.

Constantly keeping aware of Sora’s location is mentally taxing with how much he flips, jumps, and all but flies from enemy to enemy. She manages it most of the time, but the moments she loses track she finds the ice sticks to her hand, trapped by her fear of hitting him. Then he swoops into her periphery once more and her grip slackens.

She must keep a tight rein on her powers again but that’s the price of human company, she supposes. Sora does make good company, despite the reason for his arrival. Fighting with her magic feels strange after fearing it for so long, but Sora eases her in with his breezy manner. It starts with him asking for walls or ramps, but her strategic mind soon overtakes her cautious heart and in no time, she is anticipating Sora’s needs and creating new ice structures for him to spin and skate on. Her ice meets her demand in surplus and she innovates as more enemies crop up. Projectiles, traps, and even blades— her power feels useful in a way incongruous with the burden she’s always known it as. She even saves Sora from time to time, and it's bizarre realizing her magic is doing it. He smiles and says an easy thanks before casting more fire towards their enemies.

Each time they defeat one something crystal and light floats through the air and Elsa feels high on the joy of it.

After a strong wave, they rest on an outcropping.

Elsa pants for air. While she does take care of her body, she hasn't done anything this cardio heavy in a while.

"Is your magic tired?" Sora asks. She despises him for how unexhausted he remains, but she’s gathered he does this quite often considering his ease of skill and manner.

She shakes her head, saving precious breath.

"Your magic is something special," he says, smiling. "Most people would be exhausted after that much casting. And you freezing ice-based enemies is seriously cool!"

His words are meant to encourage but Elsa finds herself pulling back into the darker corners of her mind. She also noticed that Sora cast one ice spell (seemingly on accident) and that the recipient seemed only stronger afterward. She's beginning to worry that her magic is too dissimilar to his. Maybe it's too 'special' for him to help her with.

"Here," he says. She looks down, wonders when her arms pulled back into herself.

Sora seems not to know what she's thinking, instead proffering up a bottle of green liquid. "Are your ribs bothering you? That Heartless got you pretty hard earlier."

She unfolds the cage she made around her chest and grasps the bottle. "Do I drink it?"

"Yeah, it'll help you feel better!" Some kind of tonic then. Most of her suspicion about Sora has been shelved as she's gotten to know him. More than his good spirit, something about him seems… trustworthy.

She pops the cork and takes a small sip. Her faith is rewarded as a soothing energy spreads from her core. The pain cradled by her ribs disperses after drinking half of it. She holds the remainder out to Sora.

"I have plenty, you take it! And I'm not that hurt yet," Sora says. Elsa sees the edges of frost clinging to his elbows. (What is he doing in such bare clothes, she wonders not for the first time.)

"I'm healed now. Please," she says.

Sora gives a small smile and takes the bottle. "Thanks," he says, before finishing it off. "I guess I should keep my health up. I haven't fought without Donald and Goofy for a while… I'm glad I’m not doing it alone." He smiles at her, bright and easy like it's a natural response to her being there. Like her ice is a real help and her company is welcome and he’s… he’s gotten her wrong somewhere along the way.

She doesn’t have the heart to correct him.

Elsa's gaze twitches from Sora. He seems to notice her pulling away and from the corner of her eye, she sees him rolling words around his mouth, searching. His lips part but— he tenses, a quirk Elsa knows means encroaching danger.

Elsa takes a strong stance. Her ice gathers in her palms, ready to fire at whatever Heartless come their way. She isn't expecting to see humans. Soldiers in her kingdom's colors approach with caution, fear filling their eyes.

Dread swells in her.

"Go away. Get away from me!" She dismisses the ice from her hands and brings them to her chest, defensive.

Someone descends from a horse and she recognizes the figure. "Prince Hans?"

The prince Anna was so taken with appears, as regal and well-intentioned as he was the night of her coronation. She wonders if her sister has found her political journal and read all her suspicions about the sons of the Western Isle that were too gauche to say in nonprivate settings. He’s here, so she imagines not, though why he’s without Anna is a mystery she’s sure is about to unravel before her.

Hans approaches her with two soldiers, hand hovering above his sword. He hesitates over the moment to bow and lets it pass them. "Queen Elsa, we must ask you to accompany us back down the mountain to release this unearthly weather you've cast on the land.”

"Funny, cause’ that's what we're on our way to do," Sora says, all ease of manner, but Elsa sees his weapon is still out.

"All the better," Prince Hans says. "Considering your most recent outbursts, we hoped you might consent to a few restrictions."

"Restrictions?" Elsa echoes.

"For our safety. Your power is very dangerous, Queen Elsa. For the safety of your men I do hope you'll consent to some chains."

Clink. Her eyes jerk to the side where a third soldier holds shackles and something only large enough to wrap around a throat. A bolt of fear shoots through her veins, locking her limbs and jaw as she remembers fears stirred in the corner of her mind as a teenager about what people would do if they ever found out. But this nightmare is a living, haunting thing. Just when she thought she cast those chains away, thought she let things go of her shame— fear has made itself tangible and she trembles.

"Her power isn't dangerous, it's amazing!" Sora says, but his words don't pierce the fog of her mind.

Even as the two continue talking, Elsa feels her stress mounting. What happened to Anna is still fresh in her mind. The soldiers look twitchy around her and why shouldn't they be? If anything, it's smart to be wary around her. She doesn't want to hurt anyone, but she never wanted to hurt Anna.

Look what that's led to.

The soldiers start approaching her, fear shifting into anger. The chains clink and Elsa’s tension ratchets. She staggers back to give herself some distance, some room to breath, some room for them to be safe.

"Get away from me. I don't want to hurt you!" she says. With shaking hands, she draws up ice spears to stop their path forward. The jutting ice rests inches away from their bodies, warning but not harmful.

They glare at her, real anger for what she has wrought on her kingdom, but they are contained, which is all that matters.

In her concentration, it isn't until the last moment that she realizes Prince Hans is no longer in front of her but has navigated behind her. She jerks around just in time to see the butt of his sword descending.

She gasps, freezes his hand in reflex. He howls.

Sora's tower-like weapon appears and beats back Prince Han's sword.

"She struck me!" Hans cries, trying to rid himself of the ice covering his hand with frantic swipes. "Detain her before she hurts anyone else!" The soldiers charge and it takes all of Elsa's concertation not to lash out at them as they near.

The sound of buzzing air reaches her ears.

A shield flies towards them and knocks their weapons away. Donald and Goofy shove their way through the ranks, retrieving the shield and then standing at her side.

"You won't hurt Elsa," Donald says, brandishing a staff not unlike her own.

"That's right!" Goofy says. "We'll make sure of it." Sora appears as the final component and she gazes at the profiles on either side of her with frustration and mute appreciation. Why are they beside her? They saw what she did.

She hurt someone again. Even if it was self-defense, it wasn't her choice to do it. Prince Hans might be irreparably damaged if he doesn't treat the wound soon. Elsa looks at him and sees the fury in his eyes, dark and serious even as he presses forward, frozen hand twitching atop his sword. He must be in incredible pain. Beneath the glove, she doesn’t doubt his skin has turned purple or blue.

Part of her wants to turn herself over to Hans, to put an end to this whole stand-off, but she knows that chains won't do anything against her power. The thought of being in close confines with people, contained in the castle again, is petrifying. Who knows who she'll hurt next? No, it's better if she stays alone… or at least alone with company that has magic to defend themselves from Elsa.

She widens her stance and meets the soldiers’ eyes, letting them know she won’t go with them gently or willingly. The truth of the matter is, the soldiers don't stand a chance against her ice.

Despite that fact, for the moment, it seems her soldiers have the advantage. The terrain is on the side of Prince Hans’ retinue. The outcropping proves damning as the soldiers shuffle closer and closer with their spears out and Elsa and the other three are edged closer to the cliffside. She could try to force them back with her magic, but her most recent loss of control has her too petrified to cast anything close to them.

They have their spears pointed towards her, but they're still her people…

"Elsa, let's take my way down the mountain," Sora says, glancing away from the soldiers just long enough to give her a smile. "Like before, guys?"

"Not again," Donald moans.

"Gawrsh, how many times is it now?" Goofy wonders. Oddly enough, neither of them seems too upset or put out. In fact, all of them are smiling, despite the fact Sora has suggested something truly mad.

"Can you make a wall?" Sora asks.

Elsa sucks in a shallow breath and tries to center herself. A wall, just like her ice-palace. Nothing tricky. She nods.

She can do it.

"On three," Donald says. "One—"

"Three!" Sora cries.

Elsa startles in her concentration and the wall she makes is thick and tall and the opposite design she meant, but she has little time to observe the distorted rage on Han's face, almost smoky through the ice before Sora grabs her hand and they leap through the air.

Sora must give it a boost of magic because they jump much higher than any human should be able to.

Air rushes past her face, whipping her dress about and she screams and screams like she has never before. Sora's hand clasps hers and he guides her so her front faces down, catching the wind like an impossible sail as they plummet towards earth.

In the corner of her eye, she can see Arendelle rushing past, tangling around her braid.

Tears build in her eyes and she has to force the breath into her lungs. Sora's laughter echoes and the sounds chase them down a pace behind.

The ground approaches and she closes her eyes on instinct.

Sora's hand releases hers and a rush of air surrounds her. Aeroga echoes off the mountain walls, delayed. She blinks her eyes open just in time to land in the snow.

She stirs, a few feet beneath the snow, and lifts her head from the pile to stare at Sora who hasn't stopped laughing in his pit a bit away. She looks up at the speck they leaped from and chuckles, voice high and strained. She just jumped off a mountain… didn't she?

Another rush of air and Donald and Goofy land similarly deep. "I'm sick of falling off the mountain!" Donald says, muffled at first as he unburies himself.

"At least we don't have to climb up again," Goofy says, fixing his hat and giving Elsa a smile.

"It's much more fun coming down like that. I wouldn't mind going again!" Sora beams.

Donald whacks Sora over the head with his staff.

"Ow! What's that for?"

"I said on three!" Donald says

"I went on three," Sora complains.

"My three, not your three!"

"How should I know?"

They continue squabbling, play tussling physically and Elsa takes the moment to breathe. The adrenaline still courses through her body and her breath is shaky in a new way. Like the old breath was all pushed out in her screams and her lungs are now filled with fresh mountain air.

"Uh, fellas," Goofy says. "Shouldn't we head down before those soldiers catch up?"

Sora lets go of Donald's wand and the magician flails to the side.

"Oh right." Sora peers up at the mountain.

Elsa does too. The outcropping is a mere dot among the blinding white snow. Her castle is even farther away, the spire on the roof a faint impression against the late-noon sky.

She’s come so far already.

Glancing at the distant visage of the castle, she knows the hardest part is still yet to come.

Sora faces Castletown as well, his pursed mouth quirking into a smile when he senses her eyes. She exhales and returns the gesture.

Elsa moves forward and Sora, Goofy, and Donald fall in-step as they continue down.

Chapter Text

+

Elsa’s companions have an interesting dynamic.

Donald and Goofy assume a strange role of parent, sibling, and friend with Sora; treating him with genuine concern while also never hesitating to lob a joke his way. Sora responds childishly, sometimes in such an extreme manner, she knows he must ham it up. She enjoys it anyway and he does too, judging from his smiles. Yes, while the precise label of their dynamic escapes her, she does appreciate it.

With Donald and Sora being such accomplished magic users, she feels as though she can loosen her guard, a little. Most of her magic can be undone by fire, a potion, or one of Sora’s impressive cure spells.

She never knew magic could heal. It’s a new thought she turns over in her mind. She’s still not willing to risk being completely loose with her powers. Sora’s magic heals a lot of external hurts, but she knows the way her ice hurts people is a different, altering damage. She tells herself things will be okay as long as she doesn’t hit their internal organs. She’s still careful to avoid casting too close to and to keep aware of their locations at all times.

Between the four of them, the Heartless don’t stand a chance. If she thought Sora’s magic was impressive, she’s blown away by Donald’s repertoire. The court magician preens when she praises his skill after a scuffle.

“You’re really good yourself, Queen Elsa,” Goofy says as they enter a field of frozen willow trees.

“Just Elsa is fine, please,” she hastens to say. “That’s kind of you to say, but I don’t have a fraction of the control.”

“That’s right!” Sora’s fist lands on his hand. “Donald, do you think we can help train Elsa to control her magic?”

Donald eyes her, his gaze appraising but not unkind before he looks back at Sora. “We, no. But I can. You’re way too young to train someone else.”

“What?! Am not!” he says.

“Are too,” Donald shoots back. “Your control is terrible.”

“I’ve had to reacquire my skill and control three times, thank you very much. I’m an expert!” Sora says.

“At losing your skills, definitely,” Donald snorts.

“You’ve lost your magic three times?” Elsa smirks. “That’s almost as impressive as falling off a mountain three times.” Donald and Goofy chuckle.

“The last time doesn’t count!” Sora says. “We jumped.”

“He’s working on his magic skills now,” Donald says. “But I would be happy to help.” She smiles at Donald over Sora’s head.

They reach a clearing with a frozen lake. The willow trees and falling snow make a picturesque moment.

Elsa breathes it in. She remembers a summer trip here with her parents when she was younger and Anna was beginning to talk. Her mother had yet to inherit the crown and she sang legends to them over the cracking fire until the smoke made her hoarse. They always meant to come back but with the crown came changes…

Elsa shakes her head. She’s never seen it in winter.

Click. She glances over and sees Sora holding a square device.

“Sorry. Just thought it was cool.” He shows her the front and Elsa sees herself moments ago, willow trees arching over with pearls of ice dragging down the tips. Her dress looks even better than she thought.

“What an amazing portrait!” she says. “Is it magic?” She reaches for the device.

“Why don’t we take a break and you can show us the extent of your powers? Donald might be able to give ya’ some advice,” Goofy suggests.

“Oh, yes, I suppose we are on a schedule.” A shame. She’d love to examine the portrait-taker. Donald hits Sora on the head again.

They walk a little way onto the lake. Elsa stops.

“Please back up,” she says and the three take a few steps back. “Farther.” They move farther. “Farther,” she says.

The three exchange glances and obey.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she decides at length.

Five minutes later and a transparent ice-wall for good measure, she shouts back, “Are you ready?! Be sure not to move from the wall!”

“What?” Sora’s voice floats up a good sixty feet away.

Perfect. She stretches hands and ice races to fill her palms. Alone like before, she can let the full extent rise within her.

A raise of hands and structures fill the space around her, walls and little towers. She jumps and ice spears drive up from the frozen earth in elegant peaks. The ice never recedes from her hands, instead fitting there like a glove, like it’s meant to linger instead of disappearing. It reminds her how good it feels not to limit herself.

She spins and the snow rushes in the air and it fans out through the dim leak of snow behind the clouds.

“Oh wow.”

She whips around, her hands flying to the side on instinct.

Sora ducks the ice with a spin. “That’s really something!” he says, watching as the remaining kicked up snow settles down. “Can you do that for me?” He stretches his hands out, making himself an easy target.

Elsa has already backed up, fear clutching her heart in a vise grip. She almost…

“I told you to stay behind the barrier!” She shies away from his easy approach. “And don’t scare me again! There’s no telling what might happen.”

“I couldn’t see anything from there,” Sora complains. “Come on, just a little snow storm for me.”

Casting at him?!

“No, Sora.” Her curt tone makes his arms fall to his sides and a furrowing in his brow. She’ll be darned if he doesn’t look the spitting image of Anna through the gap of a closing door.

Her hand runs over her thick braid. She hates finding Anna’s echo, confusion and sadness. With everything out in the open, she doesn’t have to shut people out to protect her secret. She can explain why she is worried. Always keeping it inside is a hard habit to break through. Sora stares, quiet, intent, and the same feeling rises in her. Trustworthy, she thinks.

Peaking back, she sees Donald and Goofy behind the barrier discussing something. She wonders if Sora mentioned her hope to put an end to the everlasting winter.

Turning back to the boy, she gives a little sigh. “I once… hurt Anna that way. Just playing around when we were girls. She almost died,” Elsa explains. “I hit her directly with my magic and it nearly froze her heart, you see? I almost hit you the same way.”

Sora looks at her, emotion welling in his eyes, but all he asks is what happened and how Anna recovered. Elsa fills in the details of the event, in short, succinct phrases that grow longer the more she speaks and the more feelings come unbottled.

“I mean, I never wanted to hurt her! I didn’t want for her to forget about my magic but— it was the only way to save her life.” She slumps onto a snow bank.

“So that’s why you locked yourself inside for all those years,” Sora went on.

“Ah, you did say you met my sister,” Elsa smiles, bitter. Her sister’s confusion and hurt are still easy to picture in her mind. Her shoulders curve inward, remembering the state of their relationship and what happened earlier. She lashed out again. If it wasn’t for the trolls cure…

“Now that it’s all out, you don’t need to hide it, right?” Sora says.

“I don’t need to hide it, but I need to hide. I’m too dangerous to be around still. I hurt Hans and Anna without trying…”

“So, we just gotta work on your control!” Sora says, coming full circle.

“If we can. I tried to conceal my powers for years, but it never worked,” Elsa says.

Sora tilts his head in thought. “Donald isn’t wrong, I don’t have the best control, but if you want my opinion, I don’t think keeping it in is the best strategy.” His pensive expression turns into a smile “I really liked what you were saying earlier instead.”

She wracks her brain for a few moments but can’t think of anything particularly thoughtful she’s said.

“Let it go, let it go!” he sings, an octave down. “I am one with the wind and snow!”

She feels anger and embarrassment swell up. In the shower she used to sing to herself, quiet songs her parents taught her, her own songs sometimes. The mountain was the first time she ever belted anything. It was loud, it echoed, and she danced around the mountain with the sound. That someone else was privy to that is…. embarrassing.

She hasn’t been embarrassed by anything but her powers in a while.

“No one was supposed to hear that,” Elsa says, hands leaking with ice.

Sora smiles. “Why? It was great! I do a fair bit of singing myself. In fact, me and a friend, sometimes that’s all we do when we get together.” He startles. “You know, she’s actually a sorceress too! Maybe it’s a magic thing.”

Another sorceress like her and Sora? He is the strangest boy. “And where does this friend live?”

“Far away… in the sea. She’s a water sorceress,” Sora says.

Like Elsa then, controlling just one element instead of… whatever it is that Sora embodies. “She’s an Islander,” Elsa surmises, thinking of her local area.

“Something like that.”

“Is it an island near here?” She eyes Sora, well aware of his fondness for vague geography.

Sora pauses, then smiles. “You know, it’s possible. I always thought the water was cold where she lived. How amazing would it be if the two of you share the same sea?”

Elsa doesn’t get how Sora wouldn’t know, but in the face of his bright smile, she can only offer a small one of her own. “Well, I’d love to meet her one day,” Elsa says.

“Yeah!” He gives her an encouraging look. “But first things first, we need to get you comfortable using your magic closer to people. Donald! Goofy!” The two perk up and begin heading over.

“No, I think I need more time still,” she says, backpedaling. “I’m still way too—”

“Dangerous, yeah, yeah,” Sora says. “But you’re good, too.”

And Elsa does know that, deep in her heart. She is good— a good monster who doesn’t want to hurt others. It’s just been a while since she’s believed anyone but her sister has thought so too. Sora has the whole story too, has seen her lash out at someone on unintentional instinct. His eyes are still trusting, still bright and open.

Her hands unclench little by little. Yeah, okay. Maybe she can try.

“What happened, Sora?” Goofy asks.

“We’re gonna let Elsa practice using her magic close to people!” Sora says.

She looks at them with the same look of certainty she practiced in the mirror to become queen. Even though inside she feels the breadth between her false confidence and what she believes like a canyon. Faking it is half the battle, the rest will come in time, a tutor told her that once, and she’s clung to it like a rabbit’s foot.

“If you’re willing to assist. It might be dangerous,” she warns.

“Aw, we’ll be safe. I think that’s a great idea!” Goofy says.

“Yeah, are you sure you thought of it, Sora?” Donald asks.

“Whatever.” Sora brushes past Donald and throws his arms out. “I saw what you did with your shoes and I want some too!”

“Clothes?”

“Magic, Elsa-clothes!”

She swallows. He said casting closer to people and he meant it. Elsa supposes it isn’t at him, but she just doesn’t like the idea of her power being that close to his heart…

Sora’s gaze is steady, and she sees the trust she invested in him returned in his gaze. She decides to trust herself a little too.

Ice comes to her hand upon a single thought and she looks between Sora and her ice before she slides the magic over the edge of his shoulder. Her magic is soft at first, the barest pressure between him and her as she starts weaving her magic into his now-long sleeves. When her power reaches his chest, her magic snags as she meets a sudden nexus of other sorcery.

She senses a great deal of magic in his clothes, someone else’s touch, not Sora nor Donald’s. Three bright feminine lights filled with hope, protection, and (oddly) beauty. She finds herself in awe of the intimate sight she has of these other sorceresses and the hope they’ve placed in Sora. Messing with these enchantments is the last thing Elsa wants, so she tries weaving the magic together. There are three already, and she attempts integrating hers as a fourth, coaxing open the tight triad with her positive emotions towards Sora. Eventually, the other powers allow hers in.

Blue light chases over Sora’s form and fills in the gaps for the image in her mind. Men’s clothes are different than she’s made before, but she tries to think about protection and her care as she crafts patterns of her homeland along the lapels and cuffs of his gloves. When she gets to his shoes she gives him a little smirk before drawing up his shoes and making boots not that dissimilar to hers, with little furry puffs for ties.

The moment she withdraws her hands, Sora is tripping over himself in awe.

“Wow! These look so cool!” He cranes his head over trying to check out the back where a large snowflake twists in rendered fractals. Elsa is more caught by how many of Anna’s preferred patterns have ended up in Sora’s clothes. Sora reminds her of her sister in good and bad ways; their stubbornness, for one thing.

“Sora! You shouldn’t mess with the three fairies’ magic!” Donald says. Elsa wonders if fairies is another word for sorceress like wizard, but knows Sora is not the person to ask by this point.

“I didn’t mess with the magic I sensed there, it’s more like I added to it,” she says. Sora sticks his tongue out at Donald.

“Aren’t your feet cold in those ice-shoes?” Goofy asks.

“No, it’s not cold at all! It’s like fur made of ice, but I don’t feel it? I’m all warm now!” Sora kicks his furry boots for show and gives Elsa a beaming smile.

“Well gawsh, I think those look awfully nice. Do you think you could give us something too? If you aren’t too tired?” Goofy asks.

“After Sora dragged Elsa up and down the mountain, of course she’s tired,” Donald says, but even his eyes look beseeching. He’s cold as well, she figures.

She was nervous with her ice so close to Sora’s heart, and that was Sora. Elsa doesn’t know Goofy and Donald with the same ease and positivity she knows Sora, but she has seen how much they care for him, how they look after him. That’s a familiar feeling. She knows what it is to always think of someone else before yourself and fret and fret endlessly.

She agrees.

Diving into each of their garments, she finds similar magic, with the overwhelming theme being PROTECT HIM.

The weight of kismet surrounding Sora washes over her and she senses, just for a moment, all the lives connecting to his own channeled through Donald and Goofy like the inner ring of a massive snowflake. It’s dizzying and not something she can wrap her conscious mind around all the way. Once she withdraws her hands the impression blurs and fades like a half-remembered dream, with the certainty dwelling in her mind that Sora is important. But that’s something she’s been understanding all on her own.

“Gee, these are really spiffy!” Goofy says, admiring his dark blue clothes with similar stripes to her palace guards. Donald’s are aqua with magic spirals and he too looks delighted by the silver strips at the bottom of his feet to help grip the snow. Sora is the most excited by far, falling over himself to awe at the patterns.

“He loves getting new clothes,” Goofy confides.

“Well, it doesn’t happen every day!” Sora says. “And Elsa made these special for us. Thank you!”

The other two echo the sentiment and Elsa receives the gratitude and smiles with as much grace as she can, even though her head feels too light for her body. “It’s no problem, really,” she says.

Sora opens and closes his hands, now encased in blue mittens and beams and beams. He looks so happy and warm even as he’s wrapped head to toe in her magic.

It’s different, she thinks, turning the idea over in her head. The magic is different.

“Now that we’re all warm, we can have a snowball fight,” Sora cheers.

“No,” Donald says.

“That’s a terrible idea, Sora,” Elsa agrees. “I don’t have that much control, yet.”

“But there’s so much snow!” Sora complains.

“Later,” Goofy promises. “We should keep going down the mountain.”

“Fine,” Sora says. His poor mood flips into a smile. “Where to now?”

+

Chapter Text

Elsa thought Sora was energetic before, but she hadn’t realized how much the cold was dampening his mood. With their upgraded wardrobe comes torrential enthusiasm and a pace edging more towards running than walking as Sora traces every side-path and cave down the mountain. Elsa doesn’t see the point of it until Sora brushes snow off a mound and reveals an aged chest.

Once is good fortune, but when Sora finds the fourth chest atop a small outcropping half inside the mountain, Elsa is goggling.

“How are you finding these?” she demands.

Sora grins and aims his tower-like weapon at the treasure chest, unlocking it with magic. “These are everywhere; you just have to look enough.”

A fifth, sixth, and seventh chest prove him right. The contents vary from potions to enchanted gear that offsets the effect of ice. Her three companions garb themselves with the spoils and give her a ring with protective enchantments woven through the band. She doesn’t mind Sora’s mad luck after a while.

There’s a lot about exploring the mountain she doesn’t mind. Her three companions, for one. She edges around the title ‘friends’ for the first time as an adult and it doesn’t feel shuttered and doubtful like she anticipated. Just fitting, like the word belongs between the gaps in their laughter. Smiles flow easier across her lips, and Sora feeds off it in a cycle that reminds her of familiarity and siblinghood.

Sora laughs all the way around the mountain, snapping pictures (and still not explaining the device to Elsa). He gathers elderberries from bushes and mushrooms under logs, and almost starts an avalanche by laughing too hard. She almost doesn’t make him a hat when he asks because she doesn’t want to give him more energy, but when he says the cold makes his smiles hurt, she caves. A warm knit cap with a fur ball to match his boots soon nestles atop his head.

His smiles are even wider after that.

Elsa is enjoying their diversion, but a glance at the nearing Castletown is enough to remind her why they’re leaving the mountain. They must set things right.

“Sora!” she calls. He’s raced ahead of her lagging pace and around a corner. Not for the first time. “Let’s stop messing around and get to Castletown.”

“Elsa’s right,” Donald says from beside her. He isn’t panting like she is, but not even Donald and Goofy can keep up with Sora’s sudden energy rush.

No reply, just the whistling wind around the bend of rocks.  The three walk forward through the ravine. Elsa winces as the shade from the rocks becomes blinding sunlight reflected off the snow.

She’s even less prepared for the snow that collides with her face from the side. Donald and Goofy are hit too.

Heartless.

She doesn’t think. Her arms fly out, power reacting to defend herself.

A split-second later her eyes adjust and the blue figure spinning through the air isn’t the Heartless.

It’s Sora.

Her heart stops for a moment.

He promised he would be careful around her— he knows better than to do a sneak attack on her— she explained already what happened to Anna— and he’s seen what she can do— she’s dangerous— how many times had she told him to be careful—

And yet, and yet all of it comes down to Elsa and her stupid power and her lack of control.

Sora lands hard in the snow and she hears Donald and Goofy calling out to him.

All three of them start towards him, but Elsa hesitates, already knows what she’ll see— Anna’s pallid face peeks through her memories, her whitening hair and the shivers and must it really happen again?

“Woah, that has some kick to it.”

She blinks hard, water catching in her eyelashes as Sora sits up. His hand rubs over his heart.

“You idiot!” Donald shouts and Sora whines.

He isn’t… shivering. His skin is still a deep tan of long summer.

Sora starts to stand but the movement is aborted when Elsa rushes him and knocks him back in the snow. His new hat is brushed to the side. Her hands, shaking, trembling run through his hair looking for the hint of white, the sign of a curse from her power, the lingering reminder she sees in Anna.

All she finds is brunet.

Her hands fall to his arms. She… she did hit him, right? He spiraled through the air, she thought. Maybe she missed, but if she didn’t then what—

“Breathe, Elsa,” Sora says, hand running over her shoulder. In her anxiety, magic is still leaking through her fingers onto him. She gasps and cuts the flow, but he still isn’t affected.

“I— I don’t understand. You aren’t— I hit you and then— Anna had to be cured, but you—”

“Yeah, that was strong!” Sora says, “But I think your clothes took the brunt of the hit.” He removes his hand from his chest and Elsa sees that the fabric beneath has turned a little lighter shade of teal.

With a shaky hand, she touches the part of the fabric and feels fresh magic being absorbed into his clothes. Sora beneath them is… safe. It takes her a long moment to realize that her nightmare isn’t playing out in real life. Sora is okay. She struck him full-force with her powers and yet—

“Your clothes protected me,” Sora smiles.

“I’m the one who hit you in the first place,” she says, lips numb. He sits up beside her in the snow, hand still on her shoulder trying to rub the shock out of her system.

“Yeah, and you protected me too…” Sora says. “Your clothes are really something.”

Elsa tries to wrap her mind around the idea as the shock fades out. Her magic can cancel itself out. She… she protected Sora from herself. And no one was hurt. If this is true, it might mean she has a way to protect other people from her magic.

She has a way to protect Anna.

Sora stands up. “Do it again. So you know it isn’t a fluke.”

Donald groans and Goofy chuckles, but neither objects. Instead, their eyes rest on Elsa with something like concern.

She doesn’t want to hit him again… but she needs to know. Elsa shakes when she stands.

Sora extends his arms like a tree, making an easy target. In her nerves, the magic springs to her hand and she releases it at him, the smallest shot she can manage. It hits him and absorbs into the fabric. A few seconds later the clothes even out in shade.

She shoots a stronger one, and he braces himself for the impact that once more disperses into the cloth. His boots push deeper in the snow, but that’s it. Sora smiles.

He’s unharmed. She can cancel out her magic. Elsa exhales.

“Does this mean we can have a snowball fight?” Sora play-whispers.

Elsa startles from her shock and she laughs, Goofy along with her.

Donald lets out a long groan, but even he has some bright affection in his eyes for her. As though he could possibly understand what all of this means to Elsa.

“Fine. We can have a snowball fight,” Donald says. “But not too long of one, we still have to—”

“Great, I call Elsa! Ready, set, three!” Sora’s hand loops around Elsa’s and he starts dashing away.

“What, Sora?!” Donald calls, but he’s left in the dust.

“Sora!” Elsa shouts, untangling her arm from his. She’s still high and shaking from the relief and the sudden turn of events is almost too much for her. Power drawn by her strong emotions hovers on the tips of her fingers, she reacts to quieten it but— it can’t hurt the others, she realizes. 

The idea starts to solidify a little more against the background of Sora’s clothes and their shifting hues.

She can protect others from her powers. Quelling them isn’t necessary.

Something somewhere unclenches and her magic slips through the air around her. Sora and she watch it spiral and curl for a moment.

Sora beams. “Team sorceress, right?”

And she guesses so.

She augments her shoes to handle the flat terrain better and tightens her hair tie. “If you think you can keep up,” Elsa says as she starts spinning her hands.

“I can keep— woah.” Sora stares as the mountain of snowballs settles, a few rolling off the top.

“Queen’s don’t play, they win,” Elsa says. Her hands skate battle plans into the snow with easy to follow lines and she sees Sora getting more and more excited, even as she’s certain 90% of this will fly out of his head when the battle in earnest begins.

When it does commence, her hands do shake as she casts at her new friends, but she doesn’t falter.

+

[The following entry in Jimmy’s journal is illegible. The details of the battle and subterfuge have been blotted out by slush and snow, with enough magic to pierce the wards guarding the journal and sufficiently blur the majority of the fight. Written at the end beside the phrase ‘winners’ is one word: ‘sorceress.’]

+

Elsa bends over panting hard. Beside her, she hears a thump as Sora becomes one with the hill.

“Oh man, that was fun!” Finally, even the energetic Sora is out of breath. “That thing you did with the ice pigeons—”

“I didn’t even know I could make birds that would fly,” she gasps out. “And the graviga you used by the trees—”

“I didn’t think they’d ever dig themselves out!” Sora laughs. “But of course Donald—”

“With that incredible spell. What was that?!” she asks, crouching beside him. The ice is a cool balm on her over-worked form.

He looks at her from his divot in the snowbank. “Grandmagic,” he whispers. “I can’t believe we pushed him to that.”

“Grandmagic? How does it work?” she asks.

“When emotions run high and your heart is centered on one thing, you can access grandmagic, which is a league all on its own. I can use it too, sometimes,” Sora says.

She recalls the blazing tornado of fire Donald summoned. Perhaps when she set off the everlasting winter in Arendelle she used grandmagic without realizing.

Elsa wonders if undoing Arendelle’s ice might be possible by canceling her magic out. The power she uses on clothes and the one she uses for attacking originate from different emotional places. The clothes magic she used for Sora, Donald, and Goofy draws on her fondness for them. That magic cancels out her ice’s attack which comes from anxiety and self-preservation. Perhaps if she locates the right place within herself, she can undo the curse on Arendelle…

Her magic freezes and hurts those around her, but it also protects. It warms the people who wear it. Life is born from her magic, the pigeons and Olaf. Yes, her magic is many things, and she’s only scratched the surface of what she can be. For the first time, she considers that the power to fix everything is something she possesses after all.

She wants to fix it herself, she realizes.

“Sora, before you and Donald try to melt the ice, I want to try first,” she says. Even if she fails, it seems possible. More than that, it’s important for her to attempt.

“Yeah, okay!” Sora makes a pleased humming sound from his place in the snow pile and Elsa smiles.

She wants to unfreeze Arendelle for Anna, to show her that she is different now. Maybe Elsa can’t rejoin society as a whole, but if she gives Anna clothes to protect her they can spend time together again, without fear. They can rebuild the relationship Elsa tried so hard to freeze out.

That is, if Anna will forgive her.

Her heart clenches, a familiar, bitter dance of doubt settling in. Fantasies of her sister pulling away in disgust and horror are worn paths within her mind. After hurting her twice now, running away from their kingdom and damning it to an inclement winter— well, she deserves all of Anna’s anger and distrust. As a queen and a sister, Elsa has let her down.

Her hands curl into a cradle on her lap. Despite what she deserves… maybe it’s time Elsa showed some of the same determination. It might be her turn to wait outside of a door and beg to make a snowman. Anna waited for years and Else will, too. Her sister deserves an apology. And if there’s still space in her heart, Elsa wants to try to rekindle the love that lived there.

Because now, she doesn’t have to be afraid of herself for Anna’s sake.

Donald and Goofy approach, seeming to finally buy that she and Sora have accepted their surrender (there were two fake-outs before, so their suspicion is valid). Donald heaves Sora’s deadweight from the pit, only to be pulled in himself. Elsa gets a gracious hand from Goofy and wobbles to her feet. Muscles up and down her body whine in protest. Perhaps an intense snowball fight after battling Heartless all day was not the wisest course of action.

Even Sora admits it’s time to turn in for the night. Elsa would rather charge on to Castletown if possible, but the sky is already darkening into an inky, overcast evening.

“Where will we sleep?” Elsa asks.

“We have tents to use, but what we need is a fire. Sora?” Donald says.

“On it!” Sora stands up and goes into the forest. Several minutes later, he returns with wood from the willow trees. Goofy, Donald, and Elsa have been setting up the tents and making a flat platform to sleep on.

Soon a merry fire is blazing between the tents and Sora is falling into a doze on the ice-bench Elsa made.

“He runs around like a maniac, but at the first opportunity he nods off,” Donald grumbles.

“Anna’s the same way,” Elsa says, matching his quiet tone.

“He’s such a sleepy head he slept for a whole year once,” Goofy says. Donald chuckles at her wide-eyes.

“I hardly know whether to believe you after all of this,” Elsa says with a wry expression.

Goofy loops an arm around Sora’s shoulders and ushers him up. “Come on Sora, let’s get into the tent.” With help, Sora makes it inside.

Donald stands and takes his wand in hand. “Before we go to bed, I’ll cast some wards around the area so we can rest safely.”

Magic warding sound incredibly useful to Elsa. How large can the wards be? Are they impenetrable from the ground? Her mind is racing with technical questions about the how’s and why’s of magic. She wants to ask but knows there isn’t time with Arendelle on the clock. Afterward… after Arendelle is safe and she talks to Anna she’ll have a long sit down with Donald and satisfy her curiosity about magic and its users once and for all.

“I’ll make some ice traps around the perimeter just to be sure,” Elsa volunteers and she pretends not to notice how Donald bristles at the mention. She muffles a chuckle when she remembers Donald falling in three traps one after another like tic-tac-toe.

After finishing her net of traps and hiding them with a thin ice sheet, she heads back. Goofy is waiting up for her. She can hear loud, honking snores from the same tent Sora went and figures that’s where Donald is too.

Goofy smiles from his place on the bench. She sits beside him and takes the warm tea. She ices it and drinks. Goofy fumbles around his pockets before pulling out a tiny satchel with a chef’s hat embroidered across the seams. She watches, wide-eyes, as he pulls out a plate incongruous in size with the small satchel. More magic to ask about later.

“Here, I reckon you’re hungry,” Goofy says, undoing some catch to reveal a steaming plate of some sort of bird. It’s still warm, also by magic, she assumes.

She is hungry. She didn’t think about packing food when she left the castle a day ago. She ate a few elderberries with Sora and before that scrounged a few things to eat in the forest, but it’s got nothing on the meal before her. She doesn’t hesitate to start on the drumstick.

The quail dish is soon gobbled up with well-earned appetite. Elsa hesitates to say she’s still hungry when this is their stock, but Goofy preempts her. “Have some more.” He hands her a red soup this time.

She takes a gulp and then withdraws. “It’s cold!” she says with a smile.

“It’s chilled tomato soup. I thought you might like it.”

Now that her hunger is less pressing, she can relish the rich flavor of the dish. “This is delicious,” she says between sips.

“Sora made it under the careful tutelage of a master chef and friend,” Goofy says.

“Please pass my compliments onto the chefs,” she says. The dishes are more than comparable with the food in the castle. She’s a little surprised that Sora has the patience for cooking, and the thought makes her smile. “Have you already eaten?” she asks.

Goofy shakes his head and rolls up the sleeve of his dark blue soldier’s uniform. Elsa sees a white square on his upper arm.

“These patches give us nutrients and calories. All three of us have ‘em. We don’t always have time to eat with all the fighting we do.”

Elsa looks down at her soup and tries to think even for a moment about what it must be like to fight that often. It’s a terrible kind of reality, but one she sees borne quietly in Goofy’s demeanor. His eyes, instead, are on the tent where Sora and Donald are sleeping. Yes, she can tell now that Sora is considerably younger than the other two. Still a teenager, closer to Anna’s age. His life is so chaotic that even the small normalcy of meals has been stripped away from him.

Her emotions and powers flare but she channels it into her soup, letting it get frosty. Elsa wonders if this food is only for other people if Sora never tastes what he makes, but Goofy seems to trace her train of thoughts. “When we do have time, we turn them off and have a proper meal. It’s even more special that way,” Goofy says. “But usually it's when we can have a big show. Sora likes to do a four-course meal or nothing. It’s really decadent.” He chuckles.

Elsa looks at his worn but cheerful face and takes another sip of the soup, feeling her eyes sting a little. It’s delicious, it’s so good.

“After I unfreeze Arendelle, Anna and I will cook a big meal for all three of you, how does that sound?” she asks. There’s a lot she’s assuming with that sentence; that she can unfreeze Arendelle, that Anna forgives her, that she won’t be chained for crimes against the kingdom—

But she wants this moment, for Anna, for them, for her.

Goofy meets the passion in her eyes and smiles wide. “Gawrsh, that sounds awful nice. Thank you, Elsa.”

She finishes her soup and really thinks about every bite.

Afterward, she scrubs her teeth, uses the bathroom and lies in her tent, thinking about everything that happened to her today— hurting Anna, hurting Hans, the soldier’s scared eyes… her magic clothes, Sora the sorceress, Donald’s grandmagic, Goofy’s gratitude, her power, their power. Resolve.

She sleeps.

Chapter Text

Reaching the Bay of Arendelle is a strange experience. Up close, she can see the extensive damage her magic caused the town and ships in the area— to say nothing of the people within Castletown. If the rest of Arendelle is in similar straits, then she has little doubt that the barley and wheat harvests have been set-back, if not decimated. Not to mention disrupting the small but thriving ice harvesting community.

A bit of shifting reserve funds can smooth the way until the next season, but Elsa reminds herself that it will be up to the ruler, and not her. Not anymore, even though her hands itch to fix things.

She might not be able to repair the economy but what she can fix is the cause of the strife— she will unfreeze the land. Or attempt to. She isn’t sure if she’ll be able to do it, but if not her, then Sora and Donald; one way or another Arendelle will be free from her curse. With her newly garnered understanding magic, she hopes to never make them suffer again. After fixing things she can just fade away…

Sora gestures to a crag of rocks. “That’s where we first saw you,” he says. Tilting his head, he evaluates her.

“What is it?” she asks.

“You’re much better,” he decides, “But I think we can still improve…”

On what? She shakes her head.

Her gaze finds the weathered green roof of the castle. Donald suggested they go to the location where she first cast the curse to dispel it evenly across the land. She knows it makes sense from a technical standpoint… but having to face up to all the wrongs she committed against the people she had just sworn to protect?

Well, it’s the kind of thing she was raised to be able to do. So, she swallows her fears, thinks about her parents, and braces herself for the deserved ire.

Upon reaching the castle gates, the guard on the tower almost passes out. “Queen Elsa,” he mutters to himself before he shouts louder. “It’s the queen!”

The soldiers scuttle around in a panic. Elsa braces herself and announces—

“I have come to undo the spell I cast on the land! Please allow me to plead my case before the acting ruler.”

Hopefully, she can convince Anna or the council of advisors to allow her attempt to undo the magic before they chain her. While she feels more comfortable knowing she can protect people from her magic, she would rather be in and out as fast as possible. Then Arendelle can move past their errant and monstrous queen.

The captain of the guard appears atop the gate and he gives her a look of such vitriol that Elsa must force her expression placid.

“You dare return here! To even show your face after what you—” he sucks a tight, deep breath, and Elsa thinks about the calm way his steps traced hers toward her coronation ceremony. She wonders how deep the hurt lies and if the snap cold has killed anyone.

He assembles himself and gestures for the gate to open. “I’ll let the sovereign deal with you, ice-maker. But know that if you attack anyone you will not leave the castle alive a second time.” The flank of guards waiting at the entrance punctuates his statement.

Sora looks at her, eyes conveying discomfort and worry but she nods. Elsa has more control now, and beyond that, she doesn’t doubt that between the four of them they can find a way to safely extricate her if something goes awry. This winter needs to end.

The four are walked through the town, traced by the fearful and wide eyes of Elsa’s former constituents. Elsa remains conscious of the guards through their walk, but the presence of Sora, Donald and Goofy buffets her forward.

Her heart knows something is deeply wrong before they pass the first row of houses. It’s the clothing, the despair she sees in her people’s eyes. She wonders if her advisors ruled her as dead and if that was a sweeter end to her rule than an escaped sorceress intent on destroying the country that bore her.

Her dread culminates when she enters the courtyard of the castle and she sees a sea of citizens in full mourning clothes. She realizes that it’s possible she killed Prince Hans. She did leave him on the mountain with considerable frostbite. The townspeople part in fear as her retinue nears, splitting apart like a cut in fabric and muttering hushed reservations against each other as they pull away.

The fear festering within her chest solidifies as they reach the center of the circle of mourners and they find an ice statue. Not Hans, but—

Anna.

Pristine and still, her sister stands in the same clothes as on the mountain, but every thread and hair is iced over. Her wide eyes, white with frost, stare forward without sight. One leg extends mid-step as though she were going somewhere, but there was no escaping the strength of Elsa’s curse.

A choked sob escapes her lips and Elsa staggers forward. No other could have wrought this upon her sweet sister and the contemptuous glares from the townspeople feel earned, that and more. She remembers the last time she lashed out. The cure for the curse must have been undone, could not withstand a second blow.

It’s all her fault.

Tears chase down her face, freezing instantly as she stares upon every nightmare realized, every fear of her powers confirmed. Hands trembling, aching to touch her sister and feel life, but knowing better. Can it be possible to fail so much as a sister?

Her hands near Anna’s face when a sword appears to block her way. Hans of the Southern Isles. In full mourning and… the king’s regalia?

The details aren’t registering right. Her vision narrows on her sister, the still eyelashes and frozen tears. Soldiers appear and stand on guard around Anna. Elsa lets Sora pull her back and registers Hans demanding the reason for their presence. Everything happens through a shroud, distant, but growing—

“We came to unfreeze Arendelle!” Sora says. And his hands are tight on her shoulder, and she remembers that he met her sister. Sweet Anna. Boisterous Anna. Frozen Anna.

She feels despair build up in her chest… and also the sudden swelling feeling of resolve.

“And I will unfreeze Anna as well,” Elsa says, with a shaky strength she doesn’t feel. But it has to be true because she can’t bear the thought of it being false.

If magic can be many things, then please, oh heavens, let it also be this.

A gasp spreads across the crowd and she hears murmurs of surprise and doubt in equal measure.

Prince Hans frowns, but Elsa steps forward. “I would like to negotiate with the acting sovereign,” she says. “Where is the council of advisors?”

“I am the acting sovereign.” Hans makes a broad gesture. “As the reigning King of Arendelle.”

She startles. “King? That could only be if—”

“Before she died, my darling Anna and I exchanged vows of marriage between each other in a private ceremony. She entrusted me with her last words and her avowal of marriage.” He turns and addresses the crowd. “My people, do not trust the sorceress before you! She may claim to save the princess and the kingdom, but the risk of allowing her to cast within these walls is too high! As your king, I cannot allow it!”

There’s a visible wave of murmurs through the crowd and Elsa hears them, some hopeful, but more doubtful of entrusting anything in her. The doubt festers and swells until one person from the crowd pitches something heavy and hard at her. A rock, she thinks, as it clatters on the ground after hitting her shoulder. Her hand flexes against her magic’s recoil.

“Hey, don’t throw things at her!” Sora steps in front of her.

“She’s just trying to fix her mistake!” Donald shouts.

Hans sneers. “Why should they curb their reactions when she is to blame for the whole mess!” His eyes flicker to Elsa, almost gleaming. “Perhaps if you kneel before your ruler I may grant you consideration.”

Elsa grits her teeth as the crowd hisses and boos.

Magic writhes and twists along her hands, begging for form. Elsa looks at Hans, the guards wrapped around Anna, the mutinous mob and she imagines for a moment unleashing her power. A wave of ice will wash away the guards, a flick of the wrist to freeze the crowd, a mere thought and she can immobilize Hans and his cruel eyes. And after, limitless time to save Anna.

Her heart trembles for the dark want of it, a seething purple wrapping around her hands. It would be so easy to take…

“Elsa,” Sora whispers. Her eyes cut to his, finding the clear aquamarine echo of Anna’s. In the reflection she sees herself, wreathed in purple and she shudders. She gazes at her sister’s frozen form, thinks how badly she needs to save this life… but she doesn’t think her sister will thank her if she does. Not like this.

A choked breath breaches her lips as dark energy trickles from her form evaporating into the ether.

“Will you kneel before your ruler, or won’t you?” Hans demands.

Her magic is many things, she decides weary and worn, but it won’t be this.

Sora’s expression twists and pulls with worry, and she puts a shaky hand on his shoulder as she moves past him and Hans.

Elsa kneels down before her people, crushing her knees into the ice. And she begs. “I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness for what I have wrought upon this country. The vows I took forbade me from ever knowingly doing harm to the people who serve me and to whom I serve. I failed that vow. It wasn’t on purpose but— I just want to make things right. This was never my intention. So please, I beg of you, please allow me to try and unfreeze this land and save Princess Anna.”

Silence, soft like the snow follows the wake of her speech. Then, a low and gentle murmur builds. No one throws anything, and when she looks up and meets the eyes of her former constituents, she sees something like understanding or pity, less fear and hate. She wonders if they are remembering her now, the cold, lonely princess passing laws somewhere out of sight, her distant but tender care through the shut door…

“Well, yes, while your intentions might be good, you’ve proven you cannot control your powers— and as King, it is my choice whether or not to allow it!” Hans points out.

“Actually, the council also has bearing.” Hushed murmurs rush the crowd as Greiga, head councilwoman steps forward. The old councilwoman’s hands fold tightly at the knuckle and the recent events pull on her care-worn face. “We’ve discussed the matter amongst ourselves. If the sorceress Elsa can save Princess Anna, the council would have it so.” Other heads nod behind her.

Hans splutters. “Surely, a, a united front in such a time—”

“You are new to our ways,” Greiga says. “The royal family has long been held in regard and for good reason. They are just rulers, and king. A chance to save the princess means more to Arendelle’s people than a long winter.”

A low hum starts in the crowd, deep and growing. Traditional assent and approval ferried through generations of queens and kings now resounding from the people’s collective memories. Yes, Anna is worth it, they decide. All the horror that Elsa is and can be, is worth it.

Elsa can only agree. She bows in contract to the council and then the people.

The guards raise their spears to attention before stepping to the side one by one. A path unfolds and Elsa walks forward, chased by every eye.

“She can’t do it,” Hans scoffs from the side. “You all saw the horrid winter she cast. What about that seems like she could melt a frozen heart?”

Elsa hides a flinch. He isn’t wrong. She thought much the same only days earlier. But now… now she’s learned that her magic can come from different places, it can be so much more.

And really, it isn’t so much a want to save Anna, but a need.

She recalls making the clothes for Sora and the others only a day earlier— the remnants of magic she had woven into their clothes, the desire to care for and protect them, spark within her chest. Elsa’s hands rise from her sides.  Breathing deeply, she pulls on her magic. Tender hands mold fresh, welling emotion into the one feeling best suited toward her sister’s brimming heart.

For Anna, there has only ever been love.

The first sight of the red-faced baby with pale orange hair, worming and squirming in her weary mother’s arms—

Being taught how to support the head and rock back and forth—

Learning to walk, saying her name—

Chasing after each other in the long tall hallways—

Racing their bicycles over the snow-made ramps, snowball fights, and Olaf—

The accident and—

Years and years of raps and taps and knocks and begging and the sweet cry of “Elsa.”

It’s Elsa’s life and her fear and her love and her hands, alight with magic, slip past her sister’s face and instead wrap around her body in a hug long overdue.

Love long dammed up rushes out as she squeezes and cries and holds her sister.

She hears gasps but she doesn’t risk opening her eyes until she feels the warmth of her sister moving beneath her hands. Looking up, she sees Anna, disoriented, gasping for air— but moving! Alive, warm, and turning her head towards Elsa.

Though Elsa expected fear and anger, she isn’t ready for the immediate and intense hug Anna wraps her into.

Now both of them are crying and looking at each other with awe.

“Never again, I’m so sorry! I promise—” Elsa says.

“I was so worried about you!” Anna blubbers.

“I was worried about you!” Elsa says.

Anna’s hands tighten on Elsa’s sleeves. “Hans said he was going to kill you and take the throne.” It’s only reflex that sends Elsa’s hand flying up and making an instinctive wall when she hears the sound of a weapon whistling towards her.

Through the ice, she sees Han’s face, warped in rage and emitting a strange purple ire.

“Hans!” Anna gasps.

“Guards!” Greiga calls, and they force Hans back with the long ends of their spears. Elsa dissolves her barrier.

“He told us the two of you were married before you died,” Elsa says, her emotions flipping into anger.

“What?!” Anna splutters. “That never—"

“So, what if I did?! To kill a monster sacrifices must be made!” Hans throws his hands out to the citizens. “You all were practically begging me to do it! I was willing to end this dread curse. You should be thanking me! Bowing on your hands and knees.”

The citizens in the crowd draw back as the guards press him more firmly.

Instead of calming his ire, Hans starts writhing. Elsa can feel dark strange energy building within him. The purple haze intensifies. It feels reminiscent of the—

“Heartless!” Sora draws his ice weapon as Han’s erupts in dark shadows. The soldiers are thrown to the ground and the townspeople shriek as the shadowed form flies into the sky, growing and shifting until it makes a dark orb large enough to block the sun. The people hover in uncertain terror, every eye of adult and child trained on the unearthly globe, and then— small Heartless rain from the sky and begin their attack.

“Hide!” Elsa commands. “Soldiers, get the civilians to cover! Retreat to the inner chamber!”

With a stampede of feet, the citizens hasten to obey, with the soldiers directing the company towards the castle. Sora, Goofy, and Donald spring into action, swiping at the Heartless and holding them off the crowded square.

Taking her sister’s hand inside hers, Elsa tries to lead her away. “Anna you need to—”

“No! I won’t let you go off on your own this time,” Anna says, her hand tightening. Her thumbnail digs into Elsa’s knuckles. “Together. Let’s help Arendelle together.”

Elsa stares at her sister’s eyes, the resolve. She’s ignored her sister’s desires before and it never led anywhere productive. This won’t be safe, organized, or easy, and yet she thinks the utter protection of her sister is another thing she needs to let go.

She relents and her hands lapse their grip.

Anna swells.

“You need a weapon at least.”

Anna nods and Elsa goggles as Anna mugs a soldier with a jaunty shove. She spins the spear in her hand. “Stab the little creatures, yeah?”

Elsa gathers the concern and fondness in her arms and runs her palms over her sister’s clothes. Colors sprout along the edges and chase up Anna’s form filling in the gaps with bright light. Elsa hardly has time to appreciate the mastery and Anna’s awe, because the Heartless begin their encroach.

Elsa shoots ice at them and freezes them where they stand. “Now break them!”

Her sister wastes no time jamming the butt of the spear in the ice and shattering the forms. Light and shadow escape towards the sky in droves. Elsa takes a firm step down and spears rise from the earth, skewering seven Heartless at once. Anna gapes for a moment before she strikes forward too. The sharp end of her spear finds heads to nestle in, and Elsa covers everything that her sister misses. They make a pretty good team, defending the entrance to the castle.

Goofy, Donald, and Sora are everywhere at once, spinning from lampposts, sending shields flying, and bringing lightning down in an unholy rush. When Anna misses a step and meets a sudden crush of Heartless, Goofy is there, bearing them off with his shield and passing a potion her way without breaking stride.

“Be careful,” Elsa says, caging the Heartless surrounding Goofy. She draws the edges of the cage closer and closer until the Heartless evaporate.

“No way! This is more what I meant by open doors,” Anna says, swiping her hand over her chin, green glow of the potion filling her face with light again. “Where are you all from again? We’re visiting you next time!”

Sora splutters from his pivot around the back of a Heartless and Elsa chuckles.

Her sister gives a gasp and Elsa whirls around and traces her gaze towards the sky. The dark globe has evaporated, leaving a huge badger with the same emblem on the crest of its head.

More than that is the rush of heat the creature brings. Waves of warmth emanate from the creature, but far from being pleasant, the blaze is intense and curling. The rapid change causes Anna’s hair to frizz and then flatten in only a few instants. More than that, the heat is increasing, and she realizes that the badger is heading towards them.

Elsa takes stock of the situation. This situation spells trouble, her magic ebbs and throbs in her— dangerous, it whispers. The instinctive need to draw away from this aberration is much stronger than the Heartless before. The badger needs to be destroyed as soon as possible, but the small creatures are still raining down in equal measure. She can’t leave the castle and her people unguarded.

“Anna, stay here and protect the castle.” For once, it isn’t about keeping her sister safe but what as rulers they must do. Anna seems to understand and gives her a tight nod.

“Donald, Goofy?” They snap to attention and look between her and Sora before they give her determined salutes. They take stances on either side of Anna and continue their attacks.

“Be careful, Elsa,” Anna says.

“I’ll come back.” Elsa kisses her sister’s cheek like she hasn’t in years, and then she’s running down the steps towards Sora who waits in the center. They make eye contact and she dissolves the ice glove preventing her hands from touching the wand directly. Her magic surges and a shiver runs down her arms.

Sora is all but vibrating with energy. In fact, he’s glowing with it. She blinks as his form suddenly explodes in light and the tower-weapon is gone. In its place is—

“Ice-skates?” Elsa utters. The skates and the long lances attached to his arms are all made of familiar ice but she doesn’t remember doing that, even as she feels a strange tugging on her heart.

“All right!” Sora cries. He gives a few experimental kicks up before turning to her. “Can you make me a ramp?” The adrenaline blows his pupils. Elsa squints upward before twisting her hands and tracing arcing tracks up towards the badger. Her ice is subzero, has to be to combat and withstand the intense heat.

Sora leaps and skates up the tight edges in gravity-defying leaps and bounds, trusting her to make the path as he flies up and up and up.

Midway, he meets the badger and slams the edge of his skate into its neck. It cries and falls to the ground, landing hard on the court fountain. Elsa races forward, sending spears and blades of ice spiraling towards the creature in pulses of energy. The badger bats some away, but others find a home inside its fiery flesh. Sora races close and uses the distraction of her projectile to drill his lances into the enemy.

The badger lashes out, but Sora has already zipped away, double the speed from before, and he was already a swift fighter. A ball of yellow energy erupts from the badger’s mouth and Elsa draws up a strong wall for her and Sora to hide behind. Even as it hits, she twists her hands, making ramps for Sora to fly through the area and back at the badger. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Elsa makes another wall close to the castle, where her sister and friends are defending.

This time she was standing in between the energy ball and the castle, but she isn’t taking any chances.

Up close the heat is more intense than before, almost unbearable. She’s dripping in sweat and it’s all she can do to keep her structures strong and lasting enough to do damage. Her mouth grits into a smile. The heat is intense, but her ice is enduring.

She uses her magic to corral the creature away from the castle, but some of the nearby buildings are being destroyed despite her effort. She sets out fires on the wooden homes, but can only catch so many. They need to end this fight sooner than later, but the badger has stamina to spare. Elsa and Sora are chipping away at the badger, but it shows wear and tear only at great length.

She’s summoning more projectiles when the badger shakes itself and gives an earth-shaking growl. The Heartless flies into the sky and makes the same dark globe as before. This time, fire rings the outside edge and it glows like an eerie facsimile of the sun.

“Is it retreating?” Elsa asks, panting.

Sora eyes cast up and his mouth twists in a frown. “No,” he passes her an elixir which she knocks back. “They don’t really do that.” He wipes sweat from his forehead and squints at the orb. Elsa looks closer too and then balks.

“Is it getting closer…?” Sora mutters.

“It’s going to land on Castletown!” she realizes.

“Then we gotta stop it!” Sora says, even as fiery rain falls from the sky. Far from being the little Heartless from before, badger-heads spring from the ground. Sora casts a mighty thundaga and the two hack away at the front line of the forces while Elsa tries to minimize the damage to the town.

“What do we do?” Elsa asks, ducking the snap of a badger’s head.

“I think… I think I can dispel the dark energy,” Sora says, twisting and cutting. “I need time though, and it has to be still.” He looks at her in askance, and Elsa can only nod.

It’s do or die.

They have to take care of some of the badger-heads first, and it takes precious time. When they have a respite from the onslaught, the flaming orb has taken up all the space in the sky and it’s perilously close to the nearby roofs.

Sweat runs down Elsa’s face as she lines herself up beneath the orb and starts to build. Thick, sturdy walls enforced and reinforced with a solid center, she pushes and pushes and pushes. Her only thought is Anna and her sister’s steadfast heart guarding their people and Elsa thinks, PROTECT.

Like a damn breaking, an avalanche of magic swathes her. Her sweat crystalizes and her veins sing with natural energy. The strain leaves her body and the structure shoots towards the sky, branching out like a great tree.

Grandmagic, she realizes.

She doesn’t have time to think about it, because the burning globe collides with her ice tree and it takes all her focus to reinforce the structure as the badger bears down. Her ice creaks under the strain, but she halts the badger there. Water falls from the sky, splattering her and the area as the top layer of ice melts.

“Sora!” she calls.

Sora runs up the side of the tree and spins through the branches. His weapon warbles with energy and leaks light as it spins, gathering force. Sora’s weapon meets the mass of dark energy in a rush and it ripples and coils around him. She sees the strain on his face as he continues channeling a counter force through his weapon.

The light pulses and the ice starts to crack—

The shadows disperse and a badger shakes out from the cover. The ice structure crumbles around her and Sora darts to the ground to join her. Amid the raining ice, an idea forms in her mind.

She makes eye contact with Sora, feels a tugging in her heart between the two of them. For a moment, she is the inner ring of his snowflake. Words stop but communication flows, and Elsa and Sora smile amid the scorched earth.

“Right, together!”

The grand magic still thrums within and conjuring the ice lances takes only a though. Each is the length and thickness of a rowboat, and she soon has a fleet hovering in the air.

“Now!” She commands, and Sora is there, swinging back behind the blunt end of the lance and sending it spiraling forward with fierce propulsion. The minute his follow-through ends, he flashes to another and starts his swing again.

The hail of spinning spikes pound into the Heartless, which yowls under the onslaught. The ice pierces its limbs, latching it to the ground. Howling in anger, it writhes within its confines, flames flaring.

Sora lands beside her and kneels down, crystal blue weapon angled to the ground.

She steps onto his blade and is hurled into the air. At the apex of her flight, she gathers ice around her and as she starts falling down, she is accompanied by an ice spike growing sharper and heavier as she shapes it.

Sora air-steps to join her as she adds the last few layers of dense ice to the tip.

“Let’s finish this!” he says. At her nod, they jump.

Sora spins, and swings one final, fierce blow at the ice, sending it hurtling towards the badger with terminal velocity.

Elsa and Sora latch hands as they plummet through the earth. Beneath them, the Heartless lets out one final cry before it disperses into shadow and light. The dark tendrils fly up past them and the light floats up too, Elsa can just make out the heart shape in passing before they shoot by. Right before the ground, she hears the sharp cry of her sister and sees Sora’s weapon extend.

“Aeroga!”

Warm winds buffet them as they alight on the snow. Elsa’s heart pounds as the grandmagic leaves her and she has a moment to catch her breath. Snow is falling around her again, and she realizes in the rush of things her grandmagic has coated the area in fresh ice. The buildings that were burning have been put out.

“We did it!” she utters.

Sora laughs, hat askew, hair covered in snow and ice and Elsa knows she has to be in a similar state of slushy yet burnt disarray. She huffs a laugh that grows and swells until she is gasping for breath and trembling in the wake of their accomplishment.

“Elsa!”

The little breath she has leaves as her sister slams into her side.

“That was so amazing!” Anna rattles. “The way you used those spikes, and the badger didn’t even stand a change. You just, you nailed it with that last thing! I thought you were going to go splat, but you didn’t, and oh Elsa, you were just amazing!”

External to her sister’s glowing praise, Elsa can hear the growing sounds of cheers and she looks towards the castle to see the windows open and the people of Castletown cheering and hollering… for her.

She blanches when she sees the top of the roof, half cinders and she realizes how close they cut it.

“We can rebuild it, don’t worry,” Anna says, wrapping an arm around her sister’s shoulder and steering her towards the castle. “Just think, you could even make it out of ice!”

“You would just want to slide down the side of it,” Elsa says.

“Well if you added a slide, then you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” Sora adds in behind them, and Anna latches on to the idea.

“Yes! Like a mega-ultra-tall slide with a big loop in the middle!” Anna says.

“Two loops!” Sora declares.

“We are building a roof, right?” Elsa asks. And despite the lightness in her heart, she straightens herself as she sees the council waiting for them at the steps of the castle. The residents of Castletown pour out from the castle and greet her with whoops and cheers, but the council looks as reserved and firm as she’s always known them to be.

The square falls silent as Greiga steps forward. “Elsa of Arendelle,” Greiga says. “With one hand you cast a detrimental winter over our land, and with the other, you save our Princess and defeat the creature of darkness masquerading as Prince Hans of the Southern Islands.” Hushed murmurs ripple through the crowd but fall silent when Greiga raises her hand. “How would you have us take this?”

It takes a few moments for Elsa to realize what Greiga is actually asking. In the wake of her demonstration of strength and goodwill towards the people, Elsa has a chance to regain the throne. Her head whirls at the thought, but she forces herself to think it through.

If she agrees she will sign up for her old life, one of restriction and concealing her emotions. Yes, her ice is no longer something she has to hide, but her feelings, her opinions, those once more must be guarded and altered for the benefit of the public…

On the other hand, the castle is where Anna lives. It’s where her sister can begin to have a life surrounded by people and new experiences. Elsa does love Arendelle, relishes the details of its rule. She could enact the laws she intended, make the change she wants to see. More than that, she could create a kingdom that Anna’s children would be lucky to inherit.

She meets eyes with her quirky, inimitable sister, who smiles ever hopeful.

That’s all it really takes.

“I made a mistake,” Elsa begins. “Incautious and fearful of my natural born power I recoiled from the outside world. Instead of seeking to understand myself, I sought to hide. But now…” she looks at Sora, Donald, and Goofy, the smiles and the trust they always gave her. “Now I return to you with experience and control. I can’t promise to never make mistakes, as a sorceress, nor as a ruler. But I do promise that I will do everything with what has been granted to me, to fix them.”

Greiga nods her head. “Then there shall be a preliminary trial of your rule, and some harms that must be recompensed, but I speak for all of Arendelle when I say that we are happy to have you back, Queen Elsa.”

The citizens in the square cheer and there’s one thing left to do. For a moment she is reminded of trying to pick up the scepter, proving her worthiness to rule on that fateful coronation day, but this time— her sister taker her hand and squeezes.

They exchange smiles, and with her free hand, Elsa takes all love she used to thaw a frozen heart and sends it up and out.

The change is instantaneous.

Spreading out like a rippling pond, the ice disappears and evaporates for the sky. The townspeople stare in awe as the sun glows, no longer overcast. She pushes up and out to the northern tip of Arendelle where the ice fields lay before stopping. Opening her eyes, she sees her sister lit by the light of summer. Rancorous applause meets her ears and Anna leads the way in an unceremonious group hug with Sora, Goofy, Donald, and Elsa in the middle.

The smile on Anna’s face is one Elsa denied herself for years, and returning it feels like finally opening the door.

Love enters.