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Honeymaren hadn't knit blankets, hats, scarves and mittens just for them to collect dust in the corner.
Or maybe she had, since everyone in the tribe owned at least one of Honey's blankets already. She doubted they cared, and she definitely wasn't about to give up now, especially when there was so much to be done. Her blankets kept everyone's blood warm. That's all that mattered.
"Queen Elsa," Honey winked at Elsa in the commons and gingerly placed a pile of thick blankets and gloves in Elsa's arms. "For the journey," Honey added hastily.
The Queen almost collapsed under the weight of the blankets.
"Um, actually my sister would love these, Honeymaren," Elsa replied, recovering quickly. She placed her hand on Honey's shoulder as they exchanged knowing looks.
"Are you not travelling alone?" Honey paused, recalling the conversation they had a couple hours ago by the fire.
"I am. But the cold does not bother me," she said, handing two of the blankets back to Honey, who looked crestfallen and slightly embarrassed.
"But what about these?"
Elsa paused to stare at the cute pair of gloves. They each had a tiny, blue snowflake sewn in the middle.
Honey had spent so much time working on the details of that pair; it was her absolute favorite design yet, and if she knew better, she'd say they've been waiting for someone like Elsa to put them on. Seeing Elsa stare at her gloves in awe made her pride reluctantly get up from its place on the floor.
Honey reached for the pair of gloves and was surprised when the Queen did not let go. She looked up eagerly but saw tears crystallize in Elsa's eyes like stars.
Elsa smiled painfully and shook her head as she made to return the cute pair of gloves. "I'm sorry. These just bring back memories I'd rather forget," she breathed, still holding onto them.
Honey already felt regret pooling in her throat. She carefully reached for the gloves again.
Elsa's grip on the gloves tightened and Honey wondered whether she was doing that subconsciously or if the yarn stuck to the ice on her fingertips. She wore a heavy expression full of nostalgia, and Honey realized Elsa was lost in a distant memory, completely unaware of Honey's imminent heart attack.
Finally, Elsa hastily let go and Honey took that as her chance to immediately run away to the back of the tent and fumble with the rest of her belongings. She planned on refolding and re-stacking her blankets just to keep her hands busy and distract herself from the disaster that just happened.
She was thankful the cold gave her a reason to have perpetually rosy cheeks. She hated being all alone like this, like a deer caught in headlights, like something lodged in her heart was overheating, burning blood.
The smoke billowing into the sky carried faint echoes of her siblings' playful laughter down the woods. She could feel her sisters' shadows dancing against the dark trees, hear the muted flames crackle, smell it burn through the night. Her senses kicked into overdrive, and everything sounded so different, felt different, so out-of-control, than anything she had ever experienced before.
The gloves fell swiftly out of her hands.
Honey knelt to the ground to place them back onto the shelf. If it wasn't for the pretty girl fifteen feet behind her, who also happened to be Queen of Arendelle, she would've felt at peace.
But Elsa had left it at that and Honey assumed she fled.
The group was set to leave at sunrise, and Honey hadn't been able to catch a break, trying to take charge and provide for more people than she was used to, including the soldiers of Arendelle. With Elsa out of the tent, she reminded herself she was no longer in immediate danger and willed her heart be still until sunrise.
Although she hated to admit it, Honey's heart ached as she watched Elsa retreat back into her circle of friends. She understood the last thing the Queen would be interested in is love when she had a whole kingdom to attend to - it was stupid, it was stupid, she was stupid.
So when she woke up in the middle of the night to hear Elsa whisper, thank you, she left it be. And when she felt Elsa's cold hands reach for hers in the dark, she didn't dare open her eyes. And when the sun rose in the east, and Elsa whispered, turn over underneath the blanket, she imagined the sunrise through the bright colors seeping through her eyelids.
"Elsa?" She called out in her dream, but her words extinguished as smoke before they could even escape her lips.
The thing is, with Honeymaren, time goes by too fast.
She's grown too accustomed to the white noise of the river, the winding tree roots that travel down the sides of the fjord, the November leaves that dance one last time before they lay their heads on the forest floor.
All her life, it seemed as if she'd only known one thing.
Because the fjords sound a little too empty if you sit out there and really listen. And even Honey's sisters know that those crisp, golden leaves sizzle like hot coals beneath their feet if they dare run too far.
And all Honey knows is this -
The entirety of the forest breathes within her. Over her lifetime, she's uncovered all the secrets hidden within these walls, running around in this pressure cooker until her lungs fill up with steam. Steam that, in the high of summer, traps moisture until she can no longer breathe.
But her words continue to boil underneath her skin, ready to explode. She knows this forest will one day collapse, and her lungs with it.
All Honey knows is that the forest lives within her, defines her, encapsulates her.
Her bones ache knowing that is all she is.
If she knew Elsa would never come back, maybe she would have handled things differently. Because now that she's had a taste of the real world, she can't help but crave more. Her lungs are filled to the brim with mist, and the fire inside her is snarling, biting.
The dying tree roots feel a little too much like the veins in her hand, and when they disappear in the winter, her whole body betrays her. She has knit enough blankets to last her tribe an eon anyway. Her blankets kept their blood warm. Who cared if they could no longer breathe?
Nature is free, but not cheap. So she pulls her mittens back on and lets the river drown out her screams. She feels inexhaustible.