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Chapter Text

Birgit of Arendelle was born on August 27th, 1844. She weighed 3.5 kilograms and was 50 centimeters long. She had a full head of wispy blonde hair and baby-blue eyes. From the very start she regarded the world with a wide-eyed seriousness, and the moment her mother and father and aunt and uncle and sort-of-cousin laid eyes on her, they were all lost to their consuming love for her.

“She’s the most beautiful little baby I’ve ever seen,” Olaf said, cooing over her gently and reaching for her fist with his hand. “Look at you, you’re so cute, yes you are! You are my most favorite cousin in the whole entire world!”

Anna was tired and triumphant, but it was several hours after the birth and she’d had time to clean up and nap and she and Kristoff had had time to bond a bit with their daughter before letting everyone else in. She cradled her newborn in her arms and leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder. There was a serene smile on her face that Elsa had never seen before. She was glued to Anna’s other side, and what with Olaf practically in Anna’s lap the bed was getting a bit crowded. Hiksti was leaning over her with his hand on the headboard, craning his neck to get a look at his newest family member.

“She looks strong,” he said. “And I like the name. Birgit.”

“What’s it mean?” Olaf asked.

Kristoff grazed a gentle finger along Birgit’s cheek. “It means strong and powerful.”

“Perfect,” Elsa declared. “Just like her mother.”

“How was the birth?” Hiksti asked curiously.

“It was perfect,” Kristoff answered. “Anna was a real trooper. She was amazing! I have never been so terrified and proud in my entire life.”

Elsa and Anna giggled. “It was fine,” Anna said. “Not nearly as scary as I thought it would be.”

“Didn’t it hurt?” Elsa asked.

“Well, duh,” Anna snorted. “But look at this face,” she said, peering down at her daughter. “I’d do it all over again tomorrow, if I had to.”

“Aww,” Elsa crooned.

Then Anna lightly back-handed Elsa’s arm. “When are you and Hiksti going to give her a cousin?” she asked.

“Um, I am right here,” Olaf deadpanned, raising his hand in the air.

Elsa wrapper her arms around her creation. “I think she means a human cousin.”

“Oh, riiiiight,” Olaf said. He looked up at his maker. “When are you and Hiksti going to have a baby?”

Elsa glanced up at Hiksti, who’d raised his eyebrows. It seemed that he was waiting for her to answer. “Well… when we’re ready.”

“And when will that be?” Anna asked curiously.

Elsa shrugged. “When we’ve done everything else that we wanted to do.”

“That is frustratingly vague,” Kristoff said. “And how do you two even manage to not get pregnant, anyway? It seems like it’s a roll of the dice every time.”

Elsa blushed and Anna grimaced at her husband and Olaf tilted his head, not understanding the question.

“There… are ways,” Hiksti said quickly.

“Every time what?” Olaf asked.

“Nothing,” Elsa said shortly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s married grown-up stuff.”

“Oh,” Olaf said. “I’m not either of those things.”

Anna shot daggers from her eyes at her husband, and he gave an apologetic grimace to all of the adults in the room. “So,” she said, eager to change the subject. “What kind of other things are you wanting to do, before finally starting your family?”

“Oh, tons,” Hiksti said. “Travel around. See stuff. Build stuff.”

“Exactly,” Elsa agreed. “Travel.”

“Where… would you go?” Anna asked curiously, her bright blue eyes darting from her sister to her brother-in-law and back again.

“I hear Paris is nice,” Hiksti offered. “It’s been a few hundred years since I’ve visited, but I hear it’s nice, now.”

“And I’d like to visit Corona,” Elsa offered. “It’s been ages since we visited with Rapunzel and Aunt Arianna.”

“Not since your coronation, I think,” Anna offered.

“And… we’d like to do that soon,” Elsa said quietly. “We were only waiting for this little one to be born.”

“What?” Anna asked, sitting up and wincing. “But… but… she was just born! Can’t you wait like a year or two?”

Hiksti gave his sister-in-law a sympathetic look, but backed up his wife. “We’ll be back before you know it,” he promised. “We’ll bring souvenirs.”

Anna pouted, but then Birgit fussed and her entire focus shifted to her newborn, and so did Kristoff’s. As it happened, the baby needed a new nappy. Luckily for everyone in the room, they were royalty, and had people to take care of things like nappy changes, so Anna handed off the baby to a nanny and turned back to her sister. “It had better be a really nice souvenir,” she said.

“Oh, I promise it’ll be unique,” Elsa vowed.

Two days later Elsa and Hiksti stood hand in hand at the entrance to Ahtohallan. “I have something to show you,” she said, tugging him gently into the frozen river.

“Does it involve removing all of our clothes?” he asked cheekily. “Because frostbite is not on my current to-do list.”

She pulled him into an embrace and kissed him. “Husband, you know I’d keep you warm. But no. This is something else.”

“What?” he asked, following her deeper under the ice.

“You know that book you gave me?”

“Yeah.” He’d written her a book about dragons.

“Well, I’ve read it a few times.”

“I noticed.” His voice was warm and proud.

“And I’ve been looking for something for a long, long time, and I’ve finally found it.”

“I’m intrigued,” he admitted.

She smiled at him and after several minutes they emerged into the large dome of ice where she could pull forth memories. “Look,” she said. Then she twirled and raised her hands, and images sprang to life on the walls.

Dragons. Everywhere dragons flew and nested and bickered and hunted. Dragons of every conceivable type doing every conceivable activity that dragons were wont to do.

Hiksti turned in place on the black ice of the floor, craning his neck to try and look everywhere all at once. Then he noticed something that grabbed his attention.

“A Night Light,” he breathed. “No… dozens of them! Maybe hundreds!”

Indeed, an enormous flock of piebald black-and-white dragons gamboled about in a meadow. There were newly-hatched babies, adolescents, adults, and ancient ones - all of them had some sort of mix of black and white coloring, from almost pure white to almost pure black and everywhere in-between.

“There weren’t that many when I left,” Hiksti said. “Only about thirty.” He spun to face his wife. “Where is this, Elsa? Where?” Hope was bright in his peridot eyes, his face was alive with happiness.

Elsa brought her hands to her mouth and briefly laugh-cried. “I’ll show you,” she said. “Look.” She gestured again, and the image spun dizzyingly, until it focused again on a large stone door set into a mountain. “This isn’t just any door,” she told him.

“What do you mean?”

“This is a magic portal,” she told him. “For a few hundred years this woman has been coming and going through it, visiting with the dragons on occasion. And… I know who she is, and why she’s stopped her visits, and why she was the only one who was able to go through.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hiksti said, patting the air with his hands. “A magic portal? Is this place -- this dragon utopia, is it on Earth?”

Elsa shook her head. “No,” she answered. “There are three moons in the sky.”

All of the air left him and he looked up to the image of the door. “No wonder I couldn’t find them,” he murmured. “Are they safe, there?”

Elsa nodded. “No humans as I could see,” she said. “Although, there is a palace with nine towers.”

“How did you find this?”

“Well… I just followed them, for generations, over hundreds of years. It took a long time until I watched them migrate through this door from the Hidden World. Which, by the way, was flooding by the time they left.”

“Yeah, I always wondered about that,” Hiksti commented with a shrug. “How did the portal come to be?”

“A very powerful wizard created it,” she said. “His name was Myrddin, he was English, and he had a soft spot for dragons. For a long time he simply hid the entrance to the Hidden World, and when it started to flood he created that doorway and evacuated them.”

“Wait, King Arthur’s wizard? From Camelot? How long ago are we talking?” Hiksti asked curiously.

“About.... Fourteen hundred years ago?” Elsa estimated. “Give or take.”

Hiksti propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I was in India by then. What did Myrddin call this new dragon world?” he asked, gesturing to the door.

“Avalon.”

“Of course.” Hiksti smiled brightly, his gaze fixed on the door. “And where is it, this door?”

“It’s in my cousin’s kingdom,” she said. “In Corona.”

He dropped his gaze to hers, and then stepped closer to her and picked up her hands in his own. “Elsa, my love… who is the woman?”

“She was… one of Myrddin’s descendants. Many, many generations removed. She was born over 400 years ago, and only died a few years ago. She was a witch, of a sort, and it was this power that allowed her to use the door. Without magic, the door can’t even be seen.”

“So… we really are going to visit your cousin.”

Elsa grinned. “Yes,” she said.

“And then… we’re going to find this door?”

“Absolutely,” she told him.

He rested his forehead against hers and they closed their eyes. “And then we’ll walk through it and find the dragons again.”

“We will,” she promised.

He squeezed her hands and sighed happily. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“Only twice,” she murmured.

“Let’s get out of here so I can properly demonstrate my adoration,” he suggested.

And then laughing, they ran hand-in-hand back toward the sun.

Chapter Text

They left for Corona a week later, and this time when they went to sea they took a real wooden ship manned by professional sailors. They had every luxury they could ask for - a large, comfortable cabin, good food, and respect and courtesy from the captain and crew.

The Nokk pranced beside the ship for a few miles, much to Elsa’s delight and the crew’s wonderment, before finally rearing and galloping back toward Arendelle.

The Captain bowed his head to Elsa. “Will any more friends be joining us, Princess Elsa?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “But let me know if the wind fails.”

“Of course,” he agreed, a little mystified as to why. “It’s just a three-day journey, my Lady. Relax, and before you know it, we’ll be on the shores of Corona.”

They spent most of the time in their cabin relaxing and playing chess -- every game of which Elsa lost because Hiksti respected her too much to just let her win -- and making love. Quietly. In the evenings they joined the Captain for dinner and made small talk.

The late afternoon of the third day saw them making port at the island city of Corona’s capital.

The island city rose above the sea as one very large hill. Terraced slopes contained houses and shops featuring mostly white-plastered walls with exposed lumber and red-tiled roofs. At the crown of the hill rose an elegant white stone palace with blue-domed towers and more of the same red tile roofing.

The King and Queen and their daughter and son-in-law and grandson were already waiting on the largest dock in the harbor, dressed in their finery and happy anticipation. Elsa disembarked first with Hiksti close behind, and servants hauled out their trunks.

Because they were in public and many people were watching them, the greeting was formal. Elsa and Hiksti stopped first before the king and queen and paid their respects, Hiksti with a deep bow, Elsa with an elegant curtsey.

“Welcome to Corona,” King Frederic said graciously. “Princess Elsa, won’t you introduce us?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Elsa said with a smile. “Hiksti, this is my uncle, King Frederic of Corona, and my aunt, his wife, Queen Arianna.” She then gestured to the massively pregnant woman who appeared to be just a few years older than Elsa. “This is my cousin, Princess Rapunzel, the Heir Apparent, her husband Eugene, and their son, Aksel.”

“It’s so good to see you,” Queen Arianna said. She was Elsa’s father’s sister, and the resemblance made Elsa blink against her stinging eyes, trying to forestall any tears that wanted to spring up. She stepped forward and embraced Elsa warmly, and the Snow Queen laid her head on her aunt’s shoulder and smiled.

“It’s good to see you, too. It’s been too long.”

It was Rapunzel’s turn, next, and while Elsa was hugging her she felt a kick from the baby in her cousin’s tummy. “Oh!” she said, startled and jumping back.

Rapunzel laughed. “Oh, don’t mind her,” she said, patting her belly. “She’s just saying hello.”

“Hello, everyone,” Hiksti said, reaching to shake hands with everyone starting with the king and ending with Aksel. “I’m pleased to meet all of you.”

But this time the luggage trunks were loaded into a large carriage and they all boarded carriages to take them up to the palace. Elsa and Hiksti got into the carriage with Rapunzel and Eugene, while the King and Queen took their grandson in theirs.

“You’re due pretty soon, right?” Elsa asked Rapunzel, who looked uncomfortable no matter what position she tried.

“Yeah,” huffed the brunette. “Pretty soon. Another month or so.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Hiksti.

“Oh, you know, hot and sweaty, breathless, and over-full. Also, my tailbone is killing me, lately.” She shrugged. “You would not believe the heartburn, either.”

Elsa gave her a sympathetic look. “You sound like Anna. Who just had her baby, by the way.”

“Oh, did she?!” Rapunzel said eagerly. “That’s wonderful! Girl or boy?”

“A girl,” Elsa told her. “Birgit. She’s so cute!”

“Aww,” Rapunzel cooed. “We’ll have to visit, one of these days.”

The ride to the palace wasn’t very eventful and soon enough Elsa and Hiksti were shown to their rooms to unpack and relax before dinner at 8:00.

“Your cousin seems nice,” Hiksti said.

“She’s great,” Elsa agreed happily. They were unpacking their things, having dismissed the servants.

“Didn’t I hear something about how she was kidnapped, or something?”

Elsa turned to him, surprised. “Yes, she was,” she said. “By the witch.”

“What witch?”

“The one who I told you about in Ahtohallan. The one who kept going through the door. Myrddin’s descendent.”

“That’s who kidnapped her?” Hiksti asked in disbelief. He whistled, low and impressed. “What was her name? I never even asked.”

“Gothel,” Elsa told him. She frowned. “Horrible person. Poor Aunt Arianna never visited us when we were children, it was too painful for her, seeing her brother’s children while her own child was who-knew-where.” Frost started to form across the clothes she was unpacking and she scowled more fiercely.

“I can’t imagine how terrible that must have been for them,” Hiksti said, gathering Elsa into a hug. She relaxed into it and the frost dissipated.

“Well, she’s dead, now, and Rapunzel is back home and safe, so that’s all that matters.”

He nodded, his cheek sliding along her platinum hair. “She really looks like your aunt,” he said. “A lot.”

“And she looks like Father,” Elsa agreed.

Dinner was a formal affair that Hiksti, to Elsa’s surprise, easily handled. She supposed that with a life-span as long as his, one learned all kinds of skills, including how to dine with royalty and make smalltalk like a champion. In no time at all he’d charmed her aunt and uncle, her cousins, and half of the servants with his self-deprecating sarcasm and witty observations.

“So,” King Frederic said. He was eating very slowly to draw out the meal and give everyone plenty of time to finish their food. “I’ve heard an interesting rumor about you, Hiksti.”

Hiksti paused and traded a look with Elsa. They hadn’t really made it widely known that he had only recently been cured of immortality - as far as everyone else was concerned, he was only 30, and not as old as Jesus Christ. “Oh?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes, apparently, you’re a chess master.”

A grin flashed across Hiksti’s face and he nodded. “I’ve been known to play,” he admitted.

“We’ll have to play, then,” the king said. It was a command.

“Only if you promise not to behead me if I win, Uncle,” Hiksti said drily.

The king guffawed. “If you win, I’ll gift you a fine horse,” he promised. “But if I win, you have to do something for me.”

“What’s that?” Hiksti asked.

“A favor later to be determined,” the king said, waving a fork in the air vaguely.

“Up to and including the value of a fine horse,” Hiksti countered.

“Done, then!” the king agreed.

“Oh, boy,” Elsa sighed.

Her aunt turned to her with pity in her eyes. “Sorry about this,” she said. “But Frederic does love to play chess. And he never loses.”

“He’s about to,” Elsa said quietly with a proud little smile. The queen didn’t look convinced.

And Hiksti did win. He played so viciously that by the time the game was done a mere ten minutes later, the king was actually sweating. He stood up from the table and looked down at the board for a good two minutes before gently knocking over his king and conceding. “Well played, young man,” he said to Hiksti.

Elsa had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. If only her uncle knew just how old Hiksti really was.

The two players shook hands and Hiksti reset the board, his motions deft.

“Where did you learn to play like that?” asked King Frederic.

“From a very old man in India,” came the answer.

“You’ve been to India?” the king asked in wonder. “You’ve got to tell me more about it!”

So Hiksti did, regalling the entire family with stories of elephants and tigers and deep, dark jungles, of many-armed gods and festivals of light and color, of spices fragrant and fiery, and people with dark eyes and hair and bright smiles.

They went to sleep late that night, and in the morning Hiksti chose a fine, strong blood bay stallion from the stables. Elsa was gifted a grey mare as well, at least for her stay in Corona - she had horses in the stables at Arendelle already and didn’t need another.

Eugene sidled up to them while they were putting the horses through their paces in the stable yard. “Hello, cousin,” he said with a charming little grin.

“Eugene,” Elsa said, pulling her mare to a stop and looking down at him. “Good morning.”

“So, I see you two are going for a ride. Mind if I join you?”

Husband and wife traded a glance before he shrugged, and she turned to her cousin-in-law and nodded. “Certainly,” she said agreeably.

In no time at all Eugene was mounted on a dun roan gelding and the three of them were clip-clopping through the city to reach the countryside. Once they reached the open expanse of a fine meadow filled to bursting with summer flowers, they broke into a gallop and raced to the other side. Eugene won, but just barely, having the advantage of this being his home territory. Elsa and Hiksti pulled up next to him, grinning and sweaty, and they all dismounted and led their horses to a stream.

“So what brings you guys to Corona, anyway?” Eugene asked with a sly little smile.

“Just travelling,” Elsa lied. “To see the sights.”

“Mmhm,” he said, not sounding impressed. “I mean the real reason.”

“What do you mean?” Hiksti asked innocently.

“I mean,” Eugene said crisply, “That I know from Anna’s letters, which Rapunzel lets me read, that you are more than you seem. How much more, I don’t know. But from the way she described you, Hiksti, you’re quite an adventurer.” He turned his cunning hazel gaze to Elsa. “We all know about your ice powers, and we’ve all heard the story about the enchanted forest -- very neat, by the way -- so what’s the story with your husband, hm?”

“There’s no story,” Elsa said coldly.

“You’re lying,” Eugene said breezily. “I can tell. I’m a fantastic liar myself, so I know a liar when I see one.”

“That’s my wife you’re talking to,” Hiksti said dangerously.

“Oh-ho!” Eugene crowed. “And her mysterious husband.” He wiggled his fingers in the air sarcastically. “No details on you in the letters, just hints and generalities. You’re widely traveled and highly accomplished, Anna wrote. So what’s your story, hm? And how did you lose that leg? Are you a pirate?”

“No,” Hiksti said flatly.

“Got magical powers of your own? Are you a wizard?”

“Eugene, please,” Elsa said.

“Is he cursed?” Eugene asked, and Elsa couldn’t stop her eyes from darting to Hiksti, who was glaring at the other man. Eugene pointed a finger in triumph. “Cursed,” he said. “I knew there was something! What kind of curse? Is it gone, or is that why you’re here, to break it?”

“Stop,” Elsa commanded, drawing herself up to her full height. Suddenly all around them the trees and grass and every flower petal was coated in a dense coat of crystal-clear ice. The horses started away from the stream which had frozen over and Eugene’s gelding slipped and whickered in alarm.

Eugene stopped, clearly caught by her commanding tone. He watched his breath frost in the air and shivered. “Well, well, well,” he said slowly. “Seems I hit a nerve.”

“We’re here,” Hiksti said, stalking closer to him. “On vacation. To see the sights.”

“Why are you grilling us like this, Eugene?” Elsa asked coldly.

“Because my wife wants to know,” he said baldly. “And what Rapunzel wants, Rapunzel gets.”

“Why didn’t she just ask us, herself?” Elsa asked.

He shrugged and broke off an ice-encased twig from the tree nearest to him and twirled it nonchalantly in his fingers. “So… care to tell me what kind of curse?”

“No,” Elsa bit out, but at the same time Hiksti said, “Immortality.”

Eugene’s eyes popped wide open and he stared at Hiksti. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Hiksti contradicted him. “But it’s gone, now. I can die just as easily as you.” Something about the way he said that sentence carried a threat, and this time when Eugene shivered it wasn’t from the cold.

“Point… taken,” Eugene said slowly. Then he turned to Elsa and sketched a bow. “Cousin, I’m sorry for my behavior. I wasn’t brought up in a court so my methods might be a bit… coarse. But I promise you, only Rapunzel will hear about what I learned today.”

Elsa stared at him for a few more moments before lifting her chin and giving him a short, imperious nod. “She told me that you’re a man of your word. If she trusts you, so must I.”

“So… why are you here, then? If the curse is broken?” Eugene asked. He looked back and forth between them. “C’mon, you can tell me. Rapunzel and I got into all kinds of adventures before we settled down to marry. We totally get it. Really!” His tone turned pleading. “And we can help you! Cover for you if needed.”

Hiksti and Elsa exchanged a long, lingering look, before finally Hiksti nodded and turned toward the other man. “We’re looking for a magical doorway,” he explained. “It leads to another world.”

“So…. you’re leaving the planet?” Eugene asked, his voice pitching upwards in confusion.

“Just temporarily,” Elsa amended. “We’re looking for something.”

“Gold?” Eugene guessed. “Spells?”

“We’re not going to tell you that,” Hiksti said firmly.

And no matter how much he pleaded, Eugene never was told the answer.

Chapter Text

They spent a few days at the palace, and true to their word Eugene and Rapunzel helped them plan for their adventure. Elsa and Hiksti remained tight-lipped about where, exactly, they were travelling to, or what they were looking for, but there were certain things that they would need and the Princess of Corona made sure she got them. More properly, she made sure her husband got them for her cousins.

“I’m in no shape to help, much,” she huffed to Elsa after dinner one evening.

“Round is a shape,” Hiksti quipped.

Rapunzel shot him a green-eyed glare and then continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “But I’m glad to loan you Eugene.”

“You are?” Eugene asked, straightening up in alarm.

“No, thanks,” Hiksti said blandly. “We’re fine, just the two of us.”

Eugene relaxed somewhat and Rapunzel hid her smile from him. “He can swash-buckle with the best of them.”

“I doubt it,” muttered Hiksti.

“And he’s a very, very good thief.”

Elsa’s eyes widened at that revelation. “Really?” she asked curiously.

“We won’t need that particular skill-set,” Hiksti growled.

“You never know,” Rapunzel said, patting her long brown hair, which was done up in an elegant up-do.

“Why are you so desperate to get rid of him, anyway?” Hiksti asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey!” Eugene protested. “She’s only protecting her cousin by offering the best person for the job -- me. I’m extremely accomplished, you know.” He started ticking off his attributes and Rapunzel nodded firmly for every one. “I’m handsome, brave, cunning, charming, the best thief and pickpocket and liar you’ve ever known, handy with a sword, and I think on my feet!” He crossed his arms. “Not to mention I’m hilarious.”

Rapunzel was giggling by this time and wrapped her arms around Eugene’s bicep. “On second thought, maybe I don’t wanna let you go,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Eugene rested his hand on her swollen belly and Elsa watched the tender exchange with a familiar ache. Someday she wanted what these two had, what Anna and Kristoff, had now - a baby. But she also knew that she wasn’t quite ready for it, not yet.

“We don’t need him coming along, anyway!” Hiksti said, exasperated.

“We really don’t,” Elsa said kindly. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Rapunzel said.

They were quite sure, and the next morning Elsa and Hiksti bid goodbye to their royal hosts and rode south on their horses. They had a third horse with them carrying some of the supplies, a docile liver chestnut mare called Susi. The mare Elsa rode was named Heide and Hiksti decided to re-name his own horse Frode.

“So remind me how far it is to this mountain?” Hiksti asked once they were across the bridge to the mainland. They were both wearing sensible traveling clothes, but the quality of their horses, Hiksti’s artificial limb, and Elsa’s beauty still got them looks. They would be remembered for sure.

“A week,” Elsa said. “Five days if we really push ourselves.”

“No need to push,” he said. “Let’s just enjoy our time together.” They shared a smile and Hiksti nudged Frode closer to Heide and reached for Elsa’s hand. She twined her pale fingers with his happily enough.

“Here’s the map,” Elsa said, taking it out of her satchel and handing it over.

The Kingdom of Corona was large and had plenty of rich farmland, old-growth forests, and lucrative mining. They had, of course, planned the trip carefully, and had enough provisions to get them there and halfway back again without any shortages. Elsa kept the most important two items on her person - a large, flawless ruby, and the spell required to open the enormous magic portal.

In addition to the food and spell items, Hiksti had armed himself with a sword of his own forging, a bow and arrows, and a pair of Francisca throwing axes.

“You look so fierce,” Elsa grinned at him.

He looked up from the map and blinked at her. “Is that… good?” he asked, his tone sounding suggestive.

She snickered and nodded. “Very good.”

His chest puffed up in mock pride for a moment, then relaxed again. “You know what’s funny, though?”

“Hm?” she asked, letting her eyes travel down his arms to linger on his strong hands.

“The idea that most people, upon looking at us, would guess me to be the most dangerous, when in reality it’s you that they should fear.” He lifted a hand and gestured and made a whooshing sound, imitating her power.

“Me?” she asked. “I’m not… well, I mean, I…” she trailed off thoughtfully, and then nodded to one side. “Okay, you’re probably right. I mean, technically. But I’ve never killed anyone, so…” she shrugged. Hiksti remained silent on the issue, and she stared at him. “Have you killed, before?” she asked.

He gave her a long look. “No,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve lived over eighteen hundred years without taking a single human life. It’s amazing.”

She bit her lip and looked away again, feeling foolish.

Immediately Hiksti looked guilty. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was uncalled for. I… didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” He squeezed her hand gently.

“No, it’s okay,” Elsa said. “It was a silly question, and I didn’t think about how it would make you feel, bringing that up. I’m sorry.”

They both rode in silence for a while until their horses drifted a bit farther apart and they were forced to let go.

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” he told her quietly. “Even before the curse, I’d killed.”

“I didn’t realize,” Elsa said. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I don’t really lose sleep over it,” he told her. “They pretty much all deserved it, one way or another.”

“Just bad guys, then?”

“Bad guys,” he affirmed. “Villains, every one. Either trying to kill me or my clan, or the dragons… and after the curse, mostly just men trying to kill me, soldiers on the battlefield, the occasional despot or murderer… or wife beater.”

A shiver of revulsion crawled down her spine. “What men ever tried to kill you?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, you know… bandits, priests, mobs, that kind of thing.”

Bandits and mobs Elsa understood, and the idea of priests burning someone they thought was abomination was hardly a new one, though the thought sickened her. She’d made a point of passing a law against anyone being burned. Ever. “But… why did you kill them?” she wanted to know. “If you knew you would just come back, after.”

“Because I tried that,” he explained. “I’m not the kind of man to kill someone there’s any other option. But I come back again too quickly, usually, and then it’s just a never-ending battle against a bunch of terrified yokels. Eventually if there were enough of them they’d tie me up and burn me at the stake or something. And sometimes I’d be dead long enough for them to bury me, and do you know how hard it is to dig yourself out of a grave?” He shook his head. “After the hundredth time it just got to be too much.” He paused. “Plus, dying really hurts.”

“Oh,” Elsa said. She tried very hard not to imagine Hiksti burning at the stake, and failed. Her face drained of blood and her eyes became haunted. Images of Hiksti suffocating in a coffin and digging upward through six feet of dirt played through her mind and she shuddered.

Hiksti looked at her as they rode along, and concern came over his face. “You’re shocked,” he observed.

She nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “I guess I never thought too much about the practicalities of being immortal.”

“Why would you?” he said kindly. “Are you okay?”

She considered that for a moment, and then nodded. “I almost killed, before.”

He hadn’t known that. “What happened?” he asked.

“Soldiers from Weselton cornered me in my ice palace,” she explained. “They had swords and crossbows and… it was instinct.” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “I was… this close,’ she said, holding her thumb and forefinger apart by a centimeter. “The fear and the anger almost won.”

“It’s okay,” he told her gently. “I’m glad you have it in you to protect yourself.”

Something that had been knotted inside of her for years loosened at his words, making her feel as though she could breathe a little easier.

“My warrior queen,” he said proudly. The compliment was so far from the word monster which she’d always feared she could become that it began the spark of a warm, fuzzy glow around her heart.

They didn’t have to camp the first night, and instead found a decent inn along the road where they could quarter their horses and buy a hot meal. “Where are you folks headed?” asked the innkeeper, an expansive man with an impressive mustache.

“To the southern mountains,” Hiksti informed him.

“Oh? What’s in the mountains, besides wolves and trees?”

“Family,” Elsa said. It wasn’t quite a lie, as her husband loved dragons so much he had considered Toothless part of his family, and at least some of those dragons they were seeking were Toothless’ descendents.

“Hm,” the innkeeper hummed, looking as though he might not believe her. “Well, be careful on the roads. There’s bandits about, nowadays. They’ll rob you blind and leave you for dead.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Hiksti said.

They encountered no bandits on their second day on the road, nor their third, nor even their fourth. On their fifth day they finally made it past the vast, rolling farmland and they could see the mountains on the far horizon, rising up above an endless forest. “There they are,” Elsa said happily.

“It’s always mountains with us,” he chuckled.

“Well, there are no gods being tortured in this one, hopefully,” she said, as she guided her horse down the road and into the trees.

“Hopefully,” he agreed.

They stopped to make their lunch over an open fire when the bandits finally made themselves known.

One moment Hiksti was instructing Elsa on the best way to season their trout, and the next he was leaping clear over the fire and tackling her to the ground. As soon as they hit the ground he kept them rolling until they were wedged deep under a bush amidst the lush leaves. “Quiet,” he breathed.

Elsa tried to still her panting. “What happened?” she whispered.

He gave her a glare and she closed her mouth. Glancing around she noticed that just where she’d been standing an arrow was lodged in the earth, still quivering from the force of its landing. She gaped and started looking wildly about, trying to find the archer.

“Come out, little rabbits!” called a sinister voice. “We’ve got all the foxes on your scent, you won’t escape us.”

Silently, Hiksti pulled out his axes and brought himself up into a low crouch. Elsa pulled herself up and put her back against his instinctively.

“What a pretty lady,” came the voice again, and all around them ugly laughter rang out. “If you give up now, cripple, we’ll have our fun after we kill you, instead of forcing you to watch.”

The temperature dropped considerably, but Elsa kept her powers exactly where she wanted them, in her hands, ready to be used. She still couldn’t see anyone, though she strained her eyes.

An arrow buzzed its way toward them and Hiksti batted it out of the air with his axe, the movement almost invisible, it was so fast. “Run away now,” he called back to the voice. “And I won’t flay you alive.”

More laughter, this time mocking, rang out around them, and that’s all that Hiksti needed. One of his axes flew, then the other, and twin screams echoed in the woods, and men died.

A snarl, and then into their roadside campsite stepped a tall, lean, ugly man with a furious expression and hatred in his amber-colored eyes. “You’ll regret that,” he said, and charged. As he did, a dozen other men leapt from their concealment, screaming battle-cries.

Elsa simply froze the ground beneath their feet, sending them skidding in awkward parabolas across the unforeseen ice. Hiksti leapt for the nearest one, drawing his sword as he flew through the air. The bandit on the ground tried to fight back but Hiksti was unexpectedly left-handed, as well as far more skilled, and dispatched him easily.

“A wizard!” cried the bandit leader. “Kill him!” Somehow he had mistaken the power as having come from Hiksti instead of Elsa.

The men scrambled up on the ice and began to swarm Hiksti, until Elsa froze their feet in place, and no one there underestimated her again. Arrows came toward her and it was all she could do to raise ice shields in time to protect herself.

Hiksti killed three more before the leader managed to sneak behind her and hit Elsa across the back of her skull with the butt of his sword, and she fell unconscious to the ground. Then he placed his sword against her pale throat and snarled. “Give up, cripple, or I kill the witch where she lies!”

Hiksti froze in place, his eyes riveted to his wife. “Don’t you harm a hair on her head.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” the bandit said, slowly squatting down next to Elsa’s prone body. “A witch this powerful is worth her weight in gold.” He picked up her left hand and looked at the wedding band there, and at the matching band on Hiksti’s finger. “Your… wife?” He said it like an insult.

If looks could kill the bandit would have dropped dead then and there. Hiksti glared daggers at the man.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. “Men! Tie him up. He’s the key to controlling her.” He sneered at Hiksti. “Resist and I’ll cut her,” he growled.

Hiksti didn’t resist.

Chapter Text

When Elsa woke to a pounding headache she was bound hand and foot inside of an iron cage. Carefully squinting against the firelight, she looked around.

“Thank Thor you’re awake,” Hiksti whispered, and Elsa turned her head to see that her husband was in a similar cage next to hers, also bound hand and foot. There were deep inside a large cavern, and it was filled with crates and barrels and half a dozen small fire pits blazed merrily. Around them were dozens of sleeping rolls and blankets -- clearly this was a semi-permanent encampment. She could smell food cooking and it twisted her stomach -- she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and something about the darkness of the cave entrance told her it was already dinner-time. She was also incredibly thirsty.

“What happened?” she whispered back, her tongue feeling too thick and sluggish in her mouth.

“The leader snuck up behind you and hit your head. You fell down, and he threatened to kill you if I didn’t give up. So I gave up. For now.”

Elsa blinked a couple of times. “Hiksti… where are we?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “They put a sack over my head. They discovered the ruby and our gold coins. They’ve gone to fetch their leader who’s going to decide what to do with us.”

Just then, their leader strode into the cavern, a tall man muscled like a maiden’s dream with a face to match. He had dark brown hair and flashing grey eyes. The small scar just across one eyebrow only leaned a roguish air to his good looks, and when he walked up to their cages and smiled at them, his teeth were straight and white. “Hello, there,” he said cheerfully.

Elsa and Hiksti just stared sullenly back.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered,” he told Elsa. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

Elsa couldn’t stop the convulsive swallow at the mention of thirst, and the handsome man noticed and beckoned one of his bandits, who came forward and extended a long-handled cup through the bars of the cage toward Elsa. She stared at it but did not move.

“Drink,” the man said. “Surely you must realize that it’s not poisoned. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.”

Hiksti gave her a miniscule nod, so she got up on her knees and leaned forward to sip from the cup. The water was cold and sweet, and not nearly enough to totally slake her thirst.

“Bring them food,” the handsome man said. Then he reached out a long arm and snagged a crate, which he dragged into place and sat upon. For a minute or two he simply sat and looked at them, his expression looking for all the world as if he’d just heard a very good joke.

“So, I have before me quite the gift from my little brother; a beautiful young woman with magical powers over snow and ice, and her husband, a one-legged swordsman. I suppose I should bow.”

Elsa glanced at Hiksti, who was staring at the man with narrowed eyes.

Still looking mightily amused, the man stood up and sketched a bow. “Your Highness,” he said to Elsa. “Your Highness,” he said to Hiksti. “What brings Princess Elsa of Arendelle and her husband, Prince Consort Hiksti, to our little neck of the woods?”

“If you know who we are,” Elsa said, “Then you know you should let us go.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” said the man with a grin that showed off his dimples. “But not until after I’ve been paid a royal ransom. How much would your aunt pay for you? Or your little sister?”

Elsa had no answer for that, but Hiksti scooted carefully over to the bars of his cage closest to the handsome man. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Helmut,” said the handsome man.

“Well, Helmut,” Hiksti said, his voice even as if he were discussing what to make for breakfast. “You’ve picked the wrong people to ambush. I’m going to kill you, and all of your men, and set fire to anything that gets in my way.”

Helmut’s amused little grin didn’t drop from his face, but he stepped up to Elsa’s cage and looked down at her. He snapped his fingers and six men stepped closer to Hiksti’s cage with crossbows aimed at him. Helmut used a key to open the door and stepped in, grinning as Elsa scooted away from him. “Stay away,” she warned.

“If I feel even the slightest cool breeze your husband dies,” he promised her. Then he reached down and hauled her up, spun her around so that her back was pressed against him, and looked at Hiksti over the top of her head. One of his arms was braced across her stomach and pinned her arms before her. The other hand rested on her hip, and he slowly lowered his nose until it almost touched her alabaster shoulder. He didn’t break eye contact with Hiksti for even a second.

“I have the power, here,” Helmut said softly. Elsa cringed away from him but he held her fast. “I hear,” he said conversationally, “That you two have been married for somewhat more than a year. No baby, yet?” His hand wandered from her hip to her flat stomach and he spread his fingers there, keeping Hiksti’s eyes the entire time. “Should I help you out with that?”

“You’ll die screaming,” Hiksti vowed. The intensity of the hatred in his eyes frightened Elsa. She had felt that before… but not like this.

Helmut laughed and pushed Elsa away from him. She had no way to catch herself and fell to the ground with a grunt, and immediately rolled into the far corner. Then he exited the cage and locked the door behind him. “No, crippled prince, I’ll die an old man in my bed, surrounded by beautiful women and the children I’ve gotten on all of them,” he countered. “Rich as Midas, thanks to you two.”

Their food arrived and was shoved through the bars of the cage, along with tall cups of water. “Stay and guard them,” Helmut said to the half-dozen crossbowmen. “If she so much as twitches her hands to use her powers, fill them both with arrows.” He strode jauntily away.

“Eat,” Hiksti said encouragingly to her.

“I can’t even think of food,” Elsa told him. She was visibly shaking.

“Eat anyway,” he said. He reached for the sandwich they’d shoved through his bars and took a ferocious bite. “You need your strength.”

Elsa saw the sense in this and managed to drink the water and choke down her sandwich while trying to ignore the guards staring at her so intently. While she ate Hiksti wriggled his way to the side of his cage which was closest to her cage and leaned against it. She did the same. Only a few inches separated them. They reached their fingers through the bars and touched.

“Don’t worry,” Hiksti whispered. “We’ll get out of this.”

“How?” Elsa breathed.

He squeezed her fingers. “You already know how.” Bright green eyes met hers, and she was shocked by the sorrow she saw there. “You have it in you to do what you need to, my warrior queen. I’m so sorry.”

She stared at him, the realization of what he was suggesting dawning on her and bringing dread with it. “But…”

“It’s the only way,” he murmured.

She gulped, and then reluctantly nodded.

“Wait until most of them are sleeping,” he suggested. “Until then, we plan.”

Four hours passed, during which time Elsa contemplated how, exactly, she was going to get them out of this. “I don’t think I can,” she whispered miserably to Hiksti as the time drew near.

“You have to,” he murmured back. “The next time Helmut visits won’t be so pleasant.”

She gave him a pleading look and they fell silent as new guards took the place of the old ones and settled in. Her stomach was tied in hot, agonizing knots within her and threatened to send back the sandwich.

“Karl,” said one of the fresh guards to his neighbor.

“Yes, Lothar?”

“Have you ever seen a princess before tonight?”

“I have not.”

Lothar contemplated Elsa closely. “She’s beautiful. Do you think they’re all beautiful?”

Karl tilted his head and squinted at her. “They always are, in the stories,” he said. “But probably not in real life.”

“This one’s magic,” Lothar stated.

“That’s what Helmut said,” Karl agreed.

“We aren’t supposed to have any hands-on fun with her.”

“Definitely not. Saving that for himself, most like.”

“Pity,” Lothar sighed. “But the night doesn’t have to be a total waste.” Then he leered at Elsa. “Is all of you that pale?” he asked her.

Karl looked askance at his partner in crime, but Lothar didn’t get the hint.

“Hey, cripple,” Lothar said, turning his gaze to Hiksti. “Is your Ice Princess cold in bed?” A couple of the other men snickered.

One of the other men stepped closer to Hiksti’s cage and aimed his bow at him. “Go on,” he said to Elsa. “Show us something worth looking at.”

“What?” Elsa said, anxiety written on her face as she saw the gleaming, deadly arrow pointed at her love.

Lothar guffawed. “Markus, what are you gonna do, shoot him?”

“Why not? I can make it hurt quite a lot without making it fatal,” Markus said, a maniacal gleam in his eye. “Come on, Princess, show us something.”

“I can’t use my powers,” Elsa whimpered. “Helmut --”

“That's… not what I meant,” Markus said, sneering. He fired his bow and Hiksti cried out, curling in agony around the arrow that was now lodged in his arm. “Show us something,” he leered, reloading his weapon. “Something pretty and pale.”

White hot indignation rose up within her at the implication, and combined with her fear and anger, making something new and fierce that she couldn’t name and didn’t want to.

“Now, Elsa,” Hiksti groaned.

Almost before the words left his mouth, Elsa acted.

Chapter Text

The men were dead before they hit the ground, all six of their hearts instantly frozen, gasping like fish, their crossbows little more than blocks of ice in frozen hands. A moment later Elsa raised a protective dome three meters thick around her and Hiksti’s cages.

“Oh, god,” she said, staring at the morbid sight of the dead men on the ground, as pale and blue as Hel. They were dead, dead, dead, and she’d done that. “What have I done?”

“What you had to do to protect yourself,” Hiksti said. “And me.” A moment’s work and he’d severed his ropes using a tool that was built into his prosthetic. Quickly he went to the door of his cage and picked the lock. Elsa was free and in his arms in seconds.

A crashing and pounding sound could be heard against the wall of the dome. “Will it hold them?” he asked.

“For a minute,” Elsa said. She was shaking and could only watch as Hiksti looted the bodies for weapons, coming up with a sword and four daggers that he liked. Another dagger went to Elsa, who clutched it nervously.

“Just… stick with me,” Hiksti told her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Could you do me a favor, though?”

“Anything,” she said, her knuckles white around the pommel of the dagger.

“Break off this arrow?” He pointed. “Just right there, so I can pull it through.”

“What if you bleed too much?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Nah, it missed everything important, don’t worry. Markus was a crack shot. It’s gonna sting, but I’ll be okay.”

Elsa glanced at Markus the deceased crack shot and hurriedly glanced away again. She tucked the dagger into her belt and then reached up to the arrow in her husband’s arm. With a grunt she managed to break it. He took the pain of that stoically, grimaced, and carefully pulled out the rest of the arrow.

“Odin’s anus, that stings,” he muttered.

Elsa wrapped a handkerchief around the wound, disliking the blood that insisted on seeping through. “Don’t die,” she told him.

“I’ll try really hard not to,” he promised. “Don’t you die, either.”

“I’ll... try really hard not to,” she parroted back to him, and for some reason, despite everything, they were able to share a small smile that lasted for just a moment.

“Here’s the plan,” Hiksti said. “You just… freeze everyone where they are, and I’ll take care of them.”

Elsa nodded, her stomach twisting into anxious knots. She knew what ‘take care of’ meant.

When the wall of their protective dome was breached, Elsa raised her hands, and twenty-seven men stopped moving, every limb completely encased in a block of dense magical ice. She made sure to capture their arms, as well -- she’d learned that lesson the hard way once before, so many years ago in her ice palace. They didn’t even stand a chance. “Stay behind me,” Hiksti said.

In answer, Elsa buried her face against his back, squeezed her eyes shut, gathered handfuls of his shirt, and moved with him as he slowly stepped into the cave, his eyes scanning for anyone they may have missed. Occasionally he’d stop, Elsa would hear a man begging for his life, and Hiksti would make a vicious motion and the begging would stop. Some of them cursed him, some of them screamed, but Hiksti methodically executed each and every one of them. At one point he grabbed a torch and lit it in a firepit, and merrily set fire to an area strewn with pillows and hung with tapestries, where an ornate chair sat like a throne.

“Ah, Helmut, there you are,” Hiksti said almost cheerfully.

Elsa heard ragged breathing, and Helmut spoke without a trace of a smile in his voice. “Set me free and face me one-on-one,” he challenged. “Man to man, without a witch to hide behind. Or are you too craven?”

“Oh, gee, let me think,” Hiksti said sarcastically. “Just simply kill the man who threatened to ravage my wife and held us for ransom, or set him free and risk it all in a duel to the death? Because he goaded me? Such a tough choice.” Suddenly he jerked, and Helmut screamed.

“I made a promise,” Hiksti said quietly. “That you would die screaming.” Another jerk, and Elsa heard Helmut scream again. “See? I’m a man of my word.”

“Stop!” Helmut screamed, the sound of it raising every hair on Elsa’s body. “Stop, please!”

“Why should I?” Another scream, this one long and drawn-out, set Elsa’s blood curdling.

“Please, Hiksti,” she begged, hot tears soaking the back of his shirt. “End it, please.”

There was a pause. “My lady wife is kind,” Hiksti told Helmut. “For her, I grant you mercy.” Another jerk, another scream, and this one ended in a sickening gurgle second later.

For a long minute Elsa shook like a leaf against her husband’s back, afraid to open her eyes. The temperature of the cave was arctic, and they were dressed in summer clothes. Hiksti turned around and gently gathered Elsa into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing her face against his chest and murmuring into her hair. “It’s okay, they’re all gone, now. We’re safe.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They’d collected their supplies and gold -- and extra food and a small chest of even more gold and gems, besides -- the ruby, the map, and their horses, and Hiksti had set fire to everything else in the cave. With the charred end of a stick he’d written a message just inside the cave entrance. “Bandits beware. Justice was done here.”

They’d ridden for an hour and made a cold camp well off the road, hiding their horses in the dense undergrowth and pitching their little tent by feel alone. Hiksti had crawled in behind her and tied it shut and Elsa had turned to him and stifled her sobs in his chest.

He held her close and petted her hair, pressing kisses to the crown of her head and whispering his love and pride and words of comfort. Finally she cried herself to sleep.

The singing of birds woke her the next morning. She blinked her eyes open to look at her husband, curled on his side next to her, his face peaceful and eyes closed, his breathing deep and even.

He was still splattered with the blood of their enemies, the red droplets dried and crusting. The arrow wound on his arm seemed to have stopped bleeding, for which she was grateful. She sat up and he was instantly awake, green eyes snapping to her face. “Are you alright?” he asked her, sitting up, too, and reaching for her hand. His hair stuck out at all angles.

She twined her fingers with his and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I’m fine. How’s your arm?”

“Sore,” he admitted. “But I made sure to clean it and change the dressing. It’ll be fine.”

“What if it gets infected?” she asked, worry in her voice.

“I used clean water and soap and medicine,” he reassured her. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She nodded and leaned toward him. “We should get you cleaned up. You’re spattered in --” she broke off and bit her lip.

Hiksti looked down at himself, seeing for the first time the blood of their enemies that covered him from beard to knees. “Right,” he said. “Just… wait here. I’ll be back.”

Ten minutes later he came back into the tent, clean and wearing fresh clothes and bearing bread and dried apples and a canteen of water to drink. He sat cross-legged beside her and they ate in silence. “Are you ready to come out?” he asked her quietly.

She shook her head, and he nodded patiently, and took her into his arms. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “Your feelings, whatever they are, are valid.”

She took a shuddering breath and clutched his shirt. “I killed them, Hiksti,” she whispered.

“And I killed the rest,” he whispered back. “And what we did was necessary.”

She looked up at him, wondering if Helmut’s manner of death had been necessary. He saw that question in her eyes, and the doubt he saw there stabbed him. Desperately, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t, please,” he begged. “Don’t look at me like that.” His hands framed her face oh-so-gently. “I can’t stand it if you doubt me.”

“The… screaming…” she started, her chin trembling.

“Hey, hey, look at me, please,” he said. “Look, look.” She raised her eyes to his. “You’re my wife, Elsa. I love you. I waited over seventeen centuries to find you and I will be damned if I’ll lose you to scum like that, if I’ll let them hurt you in any way. Do you hear me?” His hands were so very tender where they framed her face. “I don’t regret killing him to protect you. And you should not waste your pity on that worm. Some people… just need killing. Bad guys.”

“Bad guys,” Elsa repeated.

“You’re okay,” he promised. “Are… are we okay?”

Elsa stared at him for a long, long time, thinking about that. Thinking about everything they’d been through together, every sacrifice he’d made for her, and she for him. She thought about their home together, his love of creating things, how he’d filled their cabin with gifts he’d made and ‘improvements’ to things that had worked just fine, before. She thought about the thoughtful way he always held her, the respect he gave her to make her own choices and come to her own conclusions. She thought about the delight he had when he taught her things, or learned something new from her. She thought about taking him into Ahtohallan, and how it felt right for him to be there. She thought about the savagery she’d seen revealed in him last night, all in the name of protecting her. She thought about the choice she’d made to kill those men, those men who’d hurt Hiksti, who would have killed him without remorse, and she found her own remorse slowly melting away.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice quiet but firm. “We’re okay.” The truth of it shone in her eyes.

“Thank the gods,” he whispered, and kissed her.

There was no more talking after that as they comforted each other in other ways, and it was late into the morning before they were ready to head out again.

Chapter Text

“We’re lost,” Elsa said unhappily. “Just how long was I out, anyway?”

“More than a day,” Hiksti said. “I was frantically worried.”

She gently probed the still-tender lump on the back of her head and nodded thoughtfully. “Then they must have taken us either north or east.”

“Right,” he agreed. “If we’d gone south we’d be in the mountains by now, and if we’d gone west we’d be close to the sea.”

“So we head south-west,” she proposed.

“Hm,” he considered, tilting his head to one side. “That sounds good. But the very first farm or village we come across, we’re getting a dog.”

“A… dog?” Elsa asked, blinking.

“They’re a great alarm system,” he explained. “It’ll let us sleep better at night.”

“Then maybe we should get two dogs,” she said.

“Then we’d have to feed two dogs,” he countered.

“...right.”

They found a little farm later that afternoon, and approached warily. The farmer was out in his turnip field and crossed it to meet them, doffing his hat to fan himself as he approached. “Hello, strangers,” he said, stopping a respectful distance away. “Are you lost?”

“Actually, yeah,” Hiksti said. He dismounted. “My wife and I got waylaid by bandits a couple of days ago. Somehow we managed to escape, and now we can’t seem to figure out where we are, any more.”

“Bandits?” the farmer said, his eyes going wide. “Helmut’s Hellions, you mean?”

“Yeah, those are the ones,” Hiksti said.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive,” the farmer said, looking between them, worry etched into his face and deepening his crow’s feet. “Helmut is notorious for taking no prisoners.” He lifted a sorrowful gaze to Elsa, then dropped his eyes as if avoiding something painful. “He… has an eye for the ladies, it’s said.”

Hiksti’s fist clenched. “He hasn’t got any eyes at all, any more,” he told the farmer quietly. “Nor will any of his men be looking for him.”

The farmer gaped at him, and he took a step back, really taking in the weapons at Hiksti’s side and the bandage on his arm. “If that’s true, stranger, then we all owe you a debt of gratitude. Helmut has been terrorizing the countryside in these parts for three years, now.”

It was Elsa’s turn to be surprised. “Three years?” she asked. “Why hasn’t the king done something about it?”

The farmer shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t answer as to that, Missus,” he said. “Having never met the king.” He suddenly started. “But where are my manners? Come to my house,” he said, gesturing to the little cottage set in the hillside not far away. “My wife will get us all some tea.”

The tea was truly excellent, though it was the only thing in the little cottage that was. Everything had a worn, well-loved quality. The farmer’s name was Penn and he introduced them to his wife, Otylia, a woman with crow’s feet as deep as her husband’s. Hiksti and Elsa introduced themselves, as well. Otylia had a warm, matronly smile and she fussed over Elsa, making her as comfortable as possible. “My, my, visitors,” she said, setting out the milk for them. “What a breath of fresh air!”

“Otylia,” said Penn. “Young Hiksti here says that they were captured by Helmut and then escaped. He says that Helmut’s Hellions won’t be a problem, any more.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, taken aback by the news. “How… exciting.” She didn’t look particularly convinced. “And… how did this come about?”

Elsa and Hiksti exchanged a look, and then Hiksti just decided to hedge the truth. He was really very smooth about it. “I used my metal foot to break out of our cage,” he said. “And we snuck out in the middle of the night. I set fire to their cave and no one ran out again.”

“They didn’t try to stop you?” Penn asked.

“They were drunk,” Hiksti lied. “Even the guards. Someone’s birthday, I think.”

Otylia looked impressed. “Well, you are very lucky, then, the pair of you. It could have been so much worse…” she tutted and patted Elsa’s hands sympathetically. “I’m sorry for anything you had to endure.”

Elsa tried not to let revulsion show on her face at the memory of Helmut’s hand spreading across her belly, of his hot breath on her neck. She looked away and bashfully drew her hands away from Otylia’s fussing.

“But where are you headed?” Penn asked them.

“The Southern Mountains,” Elsa told them. “To visit some family there.”

“It’s been way too long since I’ve seen them,” Hiksti said. “They probably won’t even recognize me.”

“Nonsense,” Otylia said stoutly. “Family always remembers.”

“The Southern Mountains are nearly four days from here,” Penn said thoughtfully. “Here, let me draw you a map.” He fetched a piece of vellum and a charcoal stick and sketched a crude map as he spoke. “We are just north of this river, here. Follow its course westward until you get to the King’s Road. From there turn south for the mountains. Stay on the road and take shelter at inns. Even if Helmut died… he doesn’t always keep all of his men with him. I’d be surprised if every last one perished in that fire. If you’re truly the cause of their demise, though… I’d watch your back, if I were you.”

“I’ll sleep with one eye open,” Hiksti promised. “Or hey, do you have any dogs we can buy?”

“We just have our sheepdog,” Penn said. “He’s getting on in years and wouldn’t take to a new owner.”

“Yes, but Reginald and Mathilde’s bitch just whelped half a year ago or so,” Otylia said. “And I know that they’ve got two puppies they haven’t found new owners for.” She tapped the map. “They live just between us and the river, very convenient for you.”

“Thank you,” Hiksti said, his tone grateful. “We should be going, then, if we’re to get the dog.”

“Ah, but you should take some bread with you,” Otylia said, jumping up from her chair.

“No, thank you,” Elsa said. “We have enough food already.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hiksti sneak a few gold coins into a napkin and set that down on the table for the farmers to discover later. Her heart warmed.

“Are you sure?” Otylia asked.

“Oh, let them go, woman,” Penn said. “They’ll have to hurry if they want to make it to Reginald’s farm and then on to the nearest inn by nightfall.”

“Very well,” Otylia said as Hiksti and Elsa rose and made for the door. “It was very nice meeting you.”

“It was very nice to meet you, as well,” Elsa said.

“Thank you for your help. And the tea!” Hiksti told them with a smile.

He and Elsa mounted their horses and made good time to the farm in question. They stopped just outside the gate enclosing the wide yard. It seemed that Reginald and Mathilde were better off than Penn and Otylia.

Mathilde opened the door and four black-and-white herding dogs shot toward them, stopping short at the gate to Mathilde’s sharp whistle. “Hello,” she said, resting her hands in the pockets of her apron. “Can I help you?”

“We’ve just come from Penn and Otylia’s farm,” Hiksti said. “We’re passing through and they mentioned that you have a puppy you’d like to sell.”

“Ah, yes,” she said, coming closer to them and beaming. “I have a male or a female. Seven months old, nearly full grown.” She pointed them out. “Well-trained already. I’ll teach you their call whistles after you pay me.”

“How much?” Hiksti asked. He dismounted from his horse and knelt close to the dogs, who regarded him with guarded curiosity. Carefully he extended a hand to let them sniff. He observed their body language very closely, and then pointed to the male. “This one,” he said. “How much?”

“Ah, him,” said Mathilde. “A very good choice.” She named a price.

Even Elsa, who didn’t really have any experience with living on a limited budget, thought that the price was exorbitant.

Hiksti laughed in her face. “Sorry, I thought you were serious,” he told her. “We’ll just be going, now.”

“Oh, fine,” Mathilde said. “I can see that you have a pretty wife to protect. I will lower the price.” And they went back and forth, haggling down to the last copper, until finally both of them seemed pleased. Hiksti handed over the coins and Mathilde taught them the dog’s call whistle, and the basic commands. “He’ll respond to whistles or words,” she said proudly. “You couldn't ask for a better companion.”

“Does he have a name?” asked Elsa.

“Just the whistle,” Mathilde said. “Name him what you want, he’s yours, now.”

Hiksti tied a rope around the dog’s neck and handed her the other end. Then her husband gathered the dog in his arms and carefully handed him up to Elsa, who balanced him on her lap. “Start feeding him bits of that rabbit,” he advised her. “Speak softly and pet him, especially behind the ears. He’ll understand he’s ours soon enough.” Then he swung himself into the saddle and they made their way southward to the river.

They made the inn just as night was falling, and Elsa was grateful for four walls and a bed and the arms of her husband. “Have you thought of a name?” he asked her, snuggling close.

“Lif,” Elsa said. She looked at Hiksti a bit bashfully.

“Protection?” Hiksti asked, saying the meaning of the name.

“I’m not really good at naming stuff,” she admitted.

“No, Lif is a great name,” he protested. “Here, Lif,” he said, patting the mattress.

Lif stared at Hiksti for a moment before hopping onto the bed. Hiksti whistled and Lif lay down obediently. “Good boy, Lif,” he crooned.

Elsa grinned at him. “If I’d known you like dogs so much I’d have gotten you one months ago.”

He chuckled into her hair and kissed her forehead. “Sleep, wife,” he said.

“Or… you could tell Lif to get down and we’ll sleep in a little while,” she suggested, walking her fingers up his arm, then slowly caressing his jaw.

The whistle rang through the room and Lif leaped right off the mattress to find himself a corner to curl up in.

Chapter Text

They stuck to the King’s Road, and Elsa realized the next day that they must be on the Eastern King’s Road, where before they had been taking the Western King’s Road. It would add more time to their trip, but as the good farmer had told them, there were plenty of inns along the way.

Their second day after escaping Helmut’s men, he pulled his horse over to a stream and started wading through the bushes. “Help me out,” he said. “I need to get a lot of this.”

“What is it?” Elsa asked, sliding down off of her horse. She watched as he started peeling the bark off of alder trees.

“Alder tree bark,” he explained.

She rolled her eyes and started helping him. “Yes, I can see that,” she said patiently. “But why are we collecting it?”

“We’re going to dye your hair,” he told her.

She paused and stared at him. “We are?”

“Yep. A disguise. In case there were any of Helmut’s men left who’ll be out for revenge.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” she said. “Can you make dye this quickly?”

“Eh, it won’t be great,” he admitted. “Usually you need a few days, but… it’ll get the job done. We’ll dye your platinum locks, I’ll shave my beard and put a boot over my prosthetic, and now that we’ve got the dog…” he glanced at their horses. “Just the horses might give us away. We may have to switch them out.”

Elsa frowned but saw the necessity in his suggestion. “Our clothes, too?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking down at the fine tunic he was wearing, the well-sewn vest and tailored trousers.

“I’ve got it,” Elsa said, and with a wave of her hand they were wearing black and navy and off-white clothes with a rough, home-spun feel, clearly patterned after the clothes they’d seen on the area’s farmers. She’d even made some black fabric boots for Hiksti in place of his one brown leather boot, and took the time to make sure his left boot fit snugly over his prosthesis so that his gait would be as normal as possible.

“I like this,” Hiksti said, adjusting the sleeves. “Nice and cool. Perfect for a hot summer’s day.”

“There are a few advantages to my powers,” Elsa said with a smile.

“More than a few,” he told her with admiration.

By the time they were done, Elsa was a dull dishwater blonde with a simple bun, and she saw Hiksti’s chin for the first time. She ran her fingers along it consideringly. “Not bad,” she finally concluded. “Even I’d have to look twice to see it was you.” She grinned impishly. “Makes you look younger.”

He leaned his face into the simple touch. “I suppose at my age I’ll take what I can get.” They chuckled together and he lifted his eyes to the dull dye job. “I prefer your natural color, though.”

Hiksti took the time to dab a lot of the dye onto Elsa’s pale mare, especially around the face and mane and tail, to make her look like a horse of a different color. “It’s the best we can do,” he said. “Now we ride hard for the next inn.”

They were half a mile away from the inn -- they could see the lights of its windows -- and just approaching the outskirts of the small town, as dark was settling fully over the land. Because of the failing light they had to walk their horses, but they made it safely.

The stable boy took their mounts and they went inside for their dinner. They ate quickly, didn’t make small-talk with the locals, and went upstairs to their room with Lif. They were rather too tired to canoodle, and instead just closed their eyes and slept.

Lif’s low growl woke Elsa, and Hiksti was already sitting up in the bed, his left hand going for his sword. Elsa opened her mouth to speak when her husband leapt from the bed and toward the doorway, which she just realized was open to the darkened hallway beyond.

Lif began barking like crazy, and Elsa hurried to light a candle, afraid to use her powers to illuminate their room for fear of giving them away. By the time she got it lit Hiksti was on top of a man and Lif was chasing another down the hallway. Hiksti raised his sword high and clubbed the man unconscious, then got up and pelted down the hallway after the other.

By now people were awake and sticking their heads out of doors. “What’s going on?” asked a reed-thin old man, peering about through a pair of round spectacles.

Elsa gave him a worried look. “Two men just tried to enter our room!” she said, sounding and looking scared and worried. “My husband knocked this one out, and chased the other. Please, help him!”

No fewer than four men charged out of their rooms and down the stairs in pursuit, yelling fit to bring down the inn, and by now half the town was wide awake and wondering what was going on.

Hiksti came back a few minutes later with Lif and the men who’d followed to help him. He was limping and there was a small cut above his eye, but he was alive. Elsa flew into his arms. “Don’t you ever do that again!” she scolded. “What were you thinking, running after a robber in the dark?”

“Sorry,” he said, wincing as she examined the cut. “I’m okay.” Lif whined at them and Hiksti reached down to pet the dog, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. “Good boy,” he praised. “Who’s a very good boy? Who’s earned himself a nice big steak? You have! Yes, you have!”

“What’s all this about?” asked the innkeeper, a portly woman with greying black hair.

“The man upstairs,” Elsa said. “What’s become of him?”

“Tied up and we’re waiting on the magistrate,” the innkeeper said. “He’s out cold, though. Who is he? Why was he in your room?”

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Hiksti growled. He stalked past him and into the inn. The brigand was bound like a hog for market and laid out on the table, but he was still unresponsive to the world. He started rifling through the man’s clothes. “Does anyone recognize him?” he asked.

Everyone there shook their heads, and Hiksti found nothing of use in the clothes. He snarled at the comatose man and sat down, ordered a steak for Lif and some bread and soup for himself and his wife, who sat next to him to await the magistrate.

The magistrate arrived before the steak did, rubbing sleep from her eyes and adjusting her wig. “What’s the emergency?” she asked curiously, blinking around.

“This man and another tried to enter our room tonight,” Elsa said. “My husband knocked this one out and gave chase to the other, who ran away.”

“Lif got a bite out of him, though,” Hiksti supplied. “Find a man with a dog bit on his right leg, and you’ve found the man who was in our room.” The steak and soup and bread came out and Hiksti gave Lif his promised reward.

The magistrate peered down her rather long nose. “Hm, I feel as if this man is familiar,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you know who he is?”

Elsa shook her head, but Hiksti hesitated. “Possibly a member of Helmut’s Hellions,” he said quietly. He had a few bites of his soup, quickly, like he was pressed for time.

Everyone started murmuring at that. “And how would you know this?” the magistrate asked.

“Who else could it be?” asked the reed-thin man who’d been in the room next to theirs. “Those are the only rapscallions I’m aware of in these parts.”

“Or it could be someone with a personal vendetta,” the magistrate explained. She shrugged. “I can never assume anything. It’s my job to gather evidence.”

Elsa stood up. “Good gentlemen and women,” she said, addressing the crowd. “I’m sure that you’re all quite tired and eager to see your beds again. If my husband and I could speak with the magistrate alone we would greatly appreciate it.”

There was some muttering, but by and large the people emptied from the room, leaving just the magistrate and the villain alone with Elsa and Hiksti.

“What is this?” she asked them, looking back and forth.

“What do you know of Princess Elsa of Arendelle?” she asked quietly, lowering her voice to a near-whisper in case anyone was trying to listen in from another room. Her soup and bread still lay untouched before her.

The magistrate lowered her voice, too. “Well… it’s said that she’s a surpassing beauty with white hair who can command ice and snow. She stepped down from her throne in favor of her younger sister, Queen Anna. And… I believe that she’s married to a cripple.”

Hiksti’s face twitched at the word.

“And what if I told you that Helmut’s Hellions, including this brigand and his man, abducted Princess Elsa and her husband, and were going to hold them for ransom, only the Princess and her Prince escaped, and are now being hunted?”

The magistrate gave her a long, assessing look. “I would say some proof would be required,” she murmured. “And if these claims were true, then of course I would be happy to take said brigand into custody.”

Elsa glanced around to be sure that they were well and truly alone, and swirled her fingers above the table-top. There she formed a perfect snowflake the size of a dinner-plate, which spun slowly in place until the magistrate laid her fingers on it, only to jerk them back at the freezing temperature. When she raised her hands to gaze at Elsa in wonder, the Snow Queen let the snowflake disappear. “Is that proof enough?”

The magistrate turned her gaze to Hiksti, looking at his legs. “You do not seem a crip--” she said, only to cut herself off when Hiksti lifted his prosthesis out of his boot just long enough to show her the gleam of metal where flesh should have been. “I stand corrected.”

“Will you help us?” Hiksti asked. “We just need to get to the Southern Mountains.”

“Why, I would be delighted to help royalty,” said the magistrate.

Elsa smiled.

“If only royalty were as delighted to help us.”

Elsa’s smile died. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“These brigands have been terrorizing this countryside for three years, now,” she said crisply. “Three years. I have sent petition after petition to King Frederic, begging for help. He sends a few guards once in a while, for a month or so, and they kill a few, only to pack up and leave before the job is completely done. So… our men are rather busy protecting their own wives and children and farms and livelihoods, and haven’t the time to help anyone else. You see?”

Hiksti leaned on the table and gave the magistrate a very direct stare. “I see,” he said quietly. “If you help us out, we’ll make sure that a petition gets through.”

“Better than that,” Elsa said. “We’ll make sure it’s properly taken care of.”

“Is that a promise?” asked the magistrate, her eyebrow climbing.

“It is,” Elsa assured her. “One way or another, we will solve the problem.”

“In that case,” said the magistrate, “You’ll have your men. We’ll escort you to the southern mountains, but where the road ends, so does their time.”

“That’s all we need,” Hiksti said. “Thank you.”

The magistrate nodded, and set about finding able bodies to take the villain into custody.

They got fitful rest for the remainder of the night, and woke with the sun to find an escort of armed, capable-looking men from the town. It took them two more days of thankfully uneventful travel to reach the foothills, and they made camp with the men who were going to head back in the morning.

Elsa held Hiksti’s hand as they lay in their tent, staring at the orange glow on the walls from the fire outside. “No sign of them,” she said.

“Maybe we’ll be lucky,” he said. “And they gave up.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But something in me tells me that that’s not the case.”

“Me, too,” he sighed regretfully. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll be walking from here on out.”

“We won’t be taking the horses?” she asked him.

“And take them through uncertain rugged terrain and then through the door?” he asked. “Or leave them outside of it with no way to fend for themselves?”

“Good point,” she admitted. “Walking it is.”

“We’ll be fine. We have everything we need.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"As long as we have each other," she agreed.

Chapter Text

Now that they knew exactly where they were, Elsa and Hiksti began their trek to the specific mountain she’d found from Ahtohallan. They kept up their disguises, though Hiksti complained a few times that the boot over his prosthesis was slowing him down a bit. Lif stayed with them, but they did end up sending the horses back with the men along with a sealed letter for the magistrate asking her to see the horses back to the royal stables in the capitol. They carried what they needed on their backs.

They fished in the streams they passed, and Hiksti took down a rabbit once, which he gave to Lif, and they were careful with their dried and preserved food, hoping to make it last in case they had to walk back out of the mountains again. Occasionally they’d stop and gather berries - Elsa stumbled on a patch of wild strawberries, much to their delight, and she used her magic to chill the sweet fruit for a delicious dessert.

The idea of sleeping beneath the open stars was romantic, but not practical, so at night Elsa made them a low-lying, strong dome of ice, and Hiksti carefully covered every inch of it with leaves before she sealed them in with just a few small air-holes close to the ground. And every night Lif woke them with a low, warning growl, which prompted Hiksti to slink out with the dog and patrol in their immediate surroundings until Lif relaxed again and they could go back to sleep.

It was the early morning of the day they would get to the mountain when Lif disappeared. He’d run into the bushes to chase a fat brown rabbit, and never come back. After whistling for him for over an hour, Hiksti had gone in search, Elsa trailing just behind.

They’d found him with a broken neck at the bottom of a small ravine. Elsa cried, Hiksti even got a bit teary-eyed. “It’s okay,” he told her. “He didn’t suffer. And I have this personal theory that all dogs go to dwell with the gods in the heavens, with an endless supply of rabbits to chase, bones to chew on, warm fires to sleep by, and scratches behind the ears.”

Elsa sniffed and nodded. She took the time to magically dig a grave for him, much as she had done for Loki’s son. Then they had no choice but to move on.

Finally, they reached the foot of the mountain, and Hiksti cast around, looking for a path. “Here,” he said. “Look.”

“What?” Elsa asked, looking around. She didn’t see anything.

“No, there’s… look, see how there’s a thin trail without anything growing? It’s an animal trail.”

“...yes?” Elsa said dubiously.

“I’m going to have to teach you how to track,” he muttered to himself. “Just follow me,” he said, reaching his hand toward her. She took it and they carefully began their ascent.

It took them four hours of climbing with an occasional magical boost before they made it to the large overhang that Elsa knew housed the door. “This is it,” she said, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“You alright?” he asked sympathetically.

“Just… that last bit was steep,” she puffed. “Give me a minute.”

He held the water canteen out to her and she drank gratefully, taking the time to look out at the view. The overhang they stood beneath had a wide and generous ledge beneath it, before it dropped down into a precipitous cliff at least a hundred meters tall. The mountain sloped down below them, carpeted in lush trees and summer vegetation.

“Now that we’re here, we can be ourselves I suppose,” he said, and sat down to take off his boot.

Elsa raised a hand and pulled it through her hair, and as she did the dye came out, carried away by a cold flurry. “That’s better,” she sighed.

“Yep,” Hiksti agreed, tossing the superfluous boot aside.

And that’s when a man rappelled down from the overhang and knocked into Elsa, sending her sprawling with a grunt. Before she knew it he had his arm around her and a knife was pressed against her jugular. “If you try to use your powers I’ll slit your pretty little throat,” he hissed into her ear. The rancid smell of his breath washed over her and her heart pounded like a drum beneath her ribs.

Hiksti was on his feet, his sword in his hand. “You,” Hiksti said with narrowed eyes, recognizing the man who’d first ambushed them so many days ago and taken them to Helmut’s encampment. “How’s the bite on your leg?”

“Just fine,” the man replied. “Don’t move, or she dies.”

“If she dies, you die,” Hiksti promised. “Screaming, just like Helmut.”

“My brother,” spat the man. “Didn’t deserve the end he got.”

“He deserved worse,” Hiksti countered, inching to one side.

The man, Helmut’s brother, pressed the blade a fraction into Elsa’s skin and a drop of red blood dragged its way down her throat. “Don’t move,” he growled over Elsa’s whimper. Hiksti froze.

Hiksti cast about for something to distract the man. “The dog,” he said. “Was that you?”

An ugly chuckle escaped Elsa’s captor. “Yes,” he hissed. “Couldn’t have him alerting you to my presence, now could I? That curr has been keeping me away every night since I’ve been following you. But don’t worry, I made it quick. I’m not a monster, after all.”

“What do you want?” Elsa asked, trying in vain to pull his hand away from her. It was difficult, as his own merciless hold was effectively pinning her upper arms to her body.

“I want your husband to die!” he shouted.

“No!” Elsa cried. Her power gathered in her but she made it stay down, made her hands remain warm, for fear that a hint of cold would send the knife point into her vein.

“I’m not in a hurry to do that,” Hiksti told him. “Why don’t you stop cowering behind my wife and fight me, man-to-man?”

“You wish,” the man growled. “Jump off the edge.”

“No!” Elsa shouted, struggling against the iron hold, kicking, even trying to bite him, to no avail.

“If I jump there’s no guarantee that you’ll let her live,” Hiksti said. “So I can’t jump.”

“She’ll live,” he promised. “Because she’s still worth a queen’s ransom. I’ll knock her out and carry her back and she won’t know the time has passed until she wakes up safe and sound in her own bed. But you… you have to die.”

Hiksti seemed to consider this. Then he looked at Elsa, slid his eyes to the cliff, and back to her. “And if Elsa wakes up she’ll just kill you. It’s not a risk you should take.”

“She won’t be able to use her powers if I cut off her hands,” Helmut’s brother snarled. “My brother was brilliant, a great leader, the best man I knew… but a pretty face was always his weakness. He should have cut off the source of her power the instant he had her under his control. I won’t make the same mistake.”

There was a very long pause as Elsa’s blood turned to ice water at the idea of losing her hands and she could see the gears turning in Hiksti’s mind as he thought through the situation.

“If I don’t jump, you kill Elsa, then I kill you, and then I kill myself. We all lose,” Hiksti explained slowly. “If I do jump, I’ll die, but Elsa will live...” He sighed. “Seems like you’re taking a pretty big chance, though. Can you really knock her unconscious before she can freeze your heart? I don’t know what you were thinking, man.” Again he looked at Elsa, slid his eyes toward the cliff, and looked back at her, squinting a bit. “Tell you what, Helmut’s Ugly Brother, If you leave now, we won’t kill you right away. We’ll give you time to run, and you may even make it somewhere safe before we get you.”

Elsa looked, too, then closed her eyes and lowered her hands away from Ugly Brother’s constricting arm. She wiggled her fingers and then nodded very subtly at Hiksti.

“It doesn’t matter much if I die,” Ugly Brother said. “You already took everything from me. I haven’t got much to live for, other than my revenge. Though a royal ransom will do wonders for my outlook, I’m sure.” He pressed the knife harder against her throat and she could feel a renewed rivulet of blood flowing across her skin.

Hiksti’s eyes filled with pure hatred, but he bent his head after a moment and walked to the cliff. For a minute he looked down, and the wind whipped upward, wildly flinging his hair all about. He turned to look at Elsa. “Remember, I will always love you,” he told her. “Meeting you saved my life, and I am grateful for every second we’ve had together.”

Then he stepped off.

Elsa let a scream wrench from her throat and then went limp in the man’s arms as if she fainted. He gave a short, ugly laugh and dragged her to the edge of the cliff so that he could look down and see Hiksti’s broken body.

What he got, instead, was an arrow through his eye. He’d quite forgotten to disarm Hiksti at all.

Soundlessly Helmut’s brother toppled over the cliff and Hiksti grabbed Elsa before she could be pulled over with him. They pressed their backs against the stone and watched his body fall. Elsa turned away before she could see it land, but she distantly heard the sickening thud.

“Raise us up, if you please,” Hiksti said quietly to Elsa, and she lifted her hands to elevate the ice shelf she’d built for her husband to jump down to. They stepped back onto the stone of the mountain and scuttled against the vertical wall beneath the overhang, clutching each other and in general just reassuring themselves that they were still alive. “Let me see,” he said softly, tipping up her chin to look at the cut on her neck.

“I don’t even feel it,” she said, watching his reaction.

“It’s not bad,” he said. “But let’s get you cleaned up and put some medicine on it.”

She nodded, and they did just that, and of course she used her powers to remove any trace of blood from her skin and clothes. After that they rested and processed their journey here, until finally Elsa took out the ruby from her satchel. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“I’ve been ready for almost fifteen hundred years,” he answered with an excited smile.

They stood up and faced the wall.

The spell was really very simple, a few Latin words, and using the ruby to catch the light of the sun and reflect it off of a certain patch of rock, and Elsa fed a little crumb of her magic into that ruby light. And suddenly… there were doors.

Rising up toward the overhang almost twelve meters tall, the doors were wide enough to drive four large wagons through side-by-side. Enormous bronze handles flanked the seam where they met, and Hiksti and Elsa each grabbed one, and pulled.

The doors swung open silently and easily. “Well-balanced,” Hiksti observed, impressed.

Just through the doors a velvet blackness yawned, as if light simply stopped there, and a brisk, warm breeze wafted over their faces, carrying an indescribable scent with it. Some kind of flower, and the smell of decay and renewal that all wildlife has, with something Elsa couldn’t pin down. An earthy, almost sulfurous smell without being so bitterly pungent, mixed with a faint animal musk that sent an involuntary snarl up her nose.

“What is that smell?” Elsa asked.

“Dragons,” Hiksti whispered. “It smells like dragons.” He looked for all the world as if the smell were ambrosia.

Elsa reached out for his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “Let’s go meet them,” she said.

Together, they stepped through the portal and into another world.

Chapter Text

For what seemed like a small eternity, the only thing Elsa could perceive was the smell of that warm wind, and the feel of Hiksti’s hand in hers. She squeezed tightly, and she could feel him return the handclasp almost to the point of pain.

And then her feet were on soil, and long stems of grass were brushing against her trouser-covered knees. Some kind of insect buzzed by her ear and she instinctively flinched away from it, only to see an enormous bee going about her business of tending to the flowers.

Elsa and Hiksti were in a large open meadow, and directly behind them, dead center, was a door just like the one they’d come through on the mountain. It was attached to nothing other than the earth it stood upon, and as she watched it swung itself shut, sealing again with a resounding bang that sent birds flying into the air from the trees all around their meadow.

“Well, that’ll attract some attention,” Hiksti observed. “We should probably --”

But what he was going to suggest never made it out of his mouth, as suddenly from the forest to their three-o-clock rose a small flock of dragons that Elsa recognized as being Gronkles. Their wings made a distinct buzzing sound as they made their way toward the door. Hiksti pulled her behind him and backed up until Elsa’s back was firmly against the reddish wood. “Don’t move,” he warned her.

“Okay,” Elsa agreed, though she pulled her power into her hands, ready to defend herself if the dragons mistook their intentions. “Hiksti,” she said a half-second later. “There’s something wrong with my magic.”

He gave her a startled look. “What do you mean?”

“It feels… off, somehow. Like -- like there’s an echo. I can’t describe it.”

“Well, with Thor’s blessing we won’t need to use it. Right now, stay very still and do what I tell you, when I tell you. Do you trust me?”

“With everything I am,'' Elsa said instantly.

Four of the Gronkles landed about twenty feet away, and one of them, a reddish-purple color, tilted its great head and blinked its bulbous amber eyes and crooned.

“Hey, there, friend,” Hiksti said hesitantly. “I’m friendly. See?” He very slowly pulled his axes and laid them one-by-one on the ground, followed by his sword and arrows. “How are you doing? You’re not gonna hurt us, are you?”

The Gronkle crooned again and opened its mouth, letting its huge tongue hang out of its mouth like a dog.

Slowly, Hiksti edged nearer to the great beast, keeping his body low. When he was very, very close, much too close for Elsa’s comfort, he stopped where he was and turned his head away, keeping his hand extended with his palm toward the dragon.

For a long, breathless moment Elsa’s heart was in her throat and she didn’t dare to even breathe. She imagined the massive beast biting off his hand, or belching lava upon him. Frost slowly started to cover the door and the ground immediately around her.

But it wasn’t necessary. The Gronkle closed its eyes and gently nudged its nose into Hiksti’s hand, letting out a contented, rumbling sigh.

Hiksti opened his eyes and grinned at Elsa. “It’s okay,” he told her. He looked toward the Gronkle and started to pet it, using those long fingers. “Look at you, girl, you’re gorgeous!” Elsa was of the private opinion that this lumpy creature, covered in large wart-like protuberances, was anything but gorgeous, but she kept that to herself.

The dragon’s eyes started to slide shut and her club-like tail wagged like a dog’s, and she flopped onto her side to give him better access, which he took advantage of to find a spot beneath her chin that made her practically melt.

The other three Gronkles were watching this closely, and one of them approached Elsa, this one a dun color with forest green spots. “Hiksti,” she said nervously.

“It -- it’s okay,” Hiksti said. He came over to her and stood just behind her. He slid his hand along her arm, extending it toward the dragon, and his other hand slid around to rest on her hip. “Crouch down a little,” he instructed. She did so. “Now, open your hand and look away,” he murmured.

She crouched, and looked away, though every instinct in her was telling her to run or fight or pass out, she wasn’t sure which.

“Now,” he said, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Unfreeze your hand.” She glanced at it and realized that her hand was almost white, it was so covered by her panicked magic. “Trust me,” he said again. “You’re safe.”

She took a deep breath and let the magic recede, and closed her eyes. She turned her head away again and waited.

A few moments later, just when she thought her heart would burst from her chest, she felt the hot, pebbly skin of the dragon gently settle against her hand.

“Now, you can pet him,” Hiksti said. “Like a cat or a dog.”

“This is so… weird,” Elsa said, but she scratched and petted, following Hiksti’s directions until the Gronkle was on its back looking like it was in heaven. “But also very neat.”

“There,” Hiksti said. “Now we’re all friends.”

Elsa stopped petting the dragon and he popped up and shook himself, then leapt into the air with a flurry of his little wings, where he hovered and stared at them curiously.

“Can you guys show me where the Night Lights are?” Hiksti asked them. He pulled out his notebook and opened to the page on which he’d drawn some Night Lights, and showed it to the reddish-purple female he’d tamed. She tilted her head to look at it, then sprang to her feet and lifted into the air with a backward glance at him, as if to say Follow me!

“Well, let’s go!” Hiksti said, enthusiasm shining from his emerald eyes. He held out his hand to Elsa, who took it, and they started running across the meadow to follow the Gronkle. The other three Gronkles followed at first, and then buzzed ahead, soon outpacing the female and disappearing over the tops of the trees.

After a couple of miles Elsa was too tired to run any longer and covered in sweat. Her husband looked like he could have gone another few miles without any issue, but of course he stopped and rested with her. The Gronkle circled their little clearing before landing with a heavy thud, and then she nosed around a bit before unearthing a large stone, which she slurped into her mouth and began crunching on.

Elsa cringed from the sound. “Oh, my god, that’s loud,” she said. “I should have expected it, but still…”

Hiksti chuckled, watching the Gronkle fondly. “Yeah, I’d forgotten about that.”

“How much farther do you think it’ll be?” she asked him. “Before we reach the Night Lights?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said with a shrug. “This is my first time in Avalon.”

Elsa looked at the Gronkle and couldn’t help the smile that crossed her lips. The creature was just so… dog-like, with its lolling tongue and affable expression. “What do you say, girl?” she asked. “Are the Night Lights much farther away?”

A buzzing sound made them look up, and there were the three Gronkles from before… and they had company.

A nearly coal-black dragon, with just a bit of white at the tips of its paws, wings, and tail, followed them into the clearing and landed majestically. It looked critically at them with eyes the color of a tropical bay, before lowering its head to stare at Hiksti’s leg.

“Oh…” Hiksti said. “This? This is just… well. I lost my leg a long time ago --” he stopped when the Night Light lowered its head and stalked toward him. “Don’t move,” he told his wife. She was already still as a statue. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Hiksti looked away and held out his hand, and waited.

Elsa watched as the Night Light circled her husband, sniffing and peering closely, especially at Hiksti’s leg. Finally, it butted his hand as if to say, Yes, yes, we’re friends. Hiksti relaxed and grinned widely at it. “Hey there, girl,” he said. “Don’t worry, the leg can’t hurt you. It’s not a weapon.”

The Night Light huffed dramatically and then used her long tail to sweep away a portion of the leaves covering the forest floor. She paced around it a few times, removing any flotsam and jetsam, smoothing the ground, and making sure it was perfect. Then she grabbed a stick in her mouth and quickly sketched Hiksti. She tossed the stick aside and stared at him, a challenge in her eyes.

Elsa gasped at the sight, for there was no mistaking Hiksti in the dragon’s drawing.

Hiksti looked at the drawing, wonder on his face, and he had to take a moment to wipe away a few tears. “That’s me,” he said. “You drew me… just like Toothless used to do.” He laughed a little bit and touched the image. “Here, I… I’ve drawn him, too,” he said. He took out his ever-present notepad, and flipped to a page within it. “See?” he said, showing the Night Light a picture of the Night Fury. “This is Toothless.” He flipped the page to show more portraits of the Night Fury. “He was my best friend, my dragon. A very long, long time ago. We flew together and… well, he was your ancestor.”

The Night Light looked long and hard at the picture, then she crooned and backed away.

“Oh, don’t leave, please,” Hiksti said. “I was just getting to know you.” Elsa’s heart broke a bit at the desperation in her husband’s voice.

But the Night Light wasn’t leaving. She was giving herself room. First, she swept herself to her full height, reared up on her hind legs. Then, she slowly descended to all fours, spread her wings to their widest breadth, and bowed.

“She knows who you are,” Elsa said, suddenly realizing it.

“What?” Hiksti asked, glancing at her, then to the bowing Night Light.

“She was asking you if you are him,” she said, pointing to the drawing in the dirt. “And you proved that you are with your drawing of Toothless.”

Hiksti’s eyes widened in realization. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “It’s an honor to meet you,” he told the dragon. “This is my wife, Elsa. We don’t mean you any harm at all.”

The Night Light leaped up and quickly placed her muzzle near Elsa’s hand, and the Snow Queen touched it. That was enough for the dragon, and she started bounding around them, looking for all the world like a playful kitten, until finally she crouched down and glanced from them to her back and them and her back, over and over until even Elsa got the idea that she wanted them to climb on.

The idea of riding a dragon was terrifying and thrilling at the same time, and Elsa wanted nothing more than to see what it was, exactly, that had made Hiksti yearn so much for those bygone days of glory.

“Just a second,” he told the Night Light. “Can I tie a rope around your shoulders, so we have something to hang onto?”

The Night Light rolled her eyes but stayed where she was, which Hiksti took as consent. He brought out a soft rope from his pack and slung it around her, making a temporary rein.

“I could… make us a saddle?” Elsa suggested. “It’ll be cold, though.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” Hiksti told the dragon, who looked at Elsa curiously.

Elsa leaned forward and petted the dragon’s surprisingly soft hide. “I’m magic,” she said. “I can make things with ice and snow. Including a saddle. Is it okay if I make one for us, so we don’t fall off?”

The dragon just tilted her head quizzically.

“Alright, I’m going to try it,” Elsa said. “Don’t be alarmed, dragon. This won’t hurt a bit.” She conjured a rather nice two-person saddle, modeled after the one she’d seen in Hiksti’s drawings of himself and Toothless, minus the fancy tail-fin gears. It formed in her hands and she held it out for the Night Light’s approval. As she looked down on it, a passing thought came to her that it would be nice if it were leather instead of ice… and suddenly it was. Elsa was so surprised that she nearly dropped it, and Hiksti gasped.

The Night Light was clearly astonished to see Elsa’s magic at play, and gave her a long, careful look before sniffing the saddle carefully, giving it a cautionary lick, and then apparently accepting it as just fine and dandy.

“How did you do that?” Hiksti asked, touching the gleaming saddle cautiously. “This is not ice.”

“I -- I don’t know,” Elsa admitted. “I just… it just happened.” She looked at him anxiously.

He gave her a reassuring look. “This is good,” he said. “It’s useful. Is this because of that echo you were talking about?”

“Must be,” Elsa said, looking down at her creation.

Hiksti’s hand lay atop her own. “Welcome to Avalon,” he said with a little grin.

Hiksti took the saddle from her and carefully settled it on the Night Light’s back, buckling it securely. He mounted the dragon, and Elsa carefully clambered on behind her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Alright, we’re ready,” Hiksti said to the Night Light.

And with that, they were flying.

Chapter Text

As they soared high above the forest, Elsa decided that she quite enjoyed flying. The feel of the wind in her hair and the wide open space around them, the breathtaking beauty of the forest passing below them and the clouds surrounding them, all culminated into a serenity that made her feel totally at peace with herself and the world.

“I finally get it,” she shouted into Hiksti’s ear, raising her voice over the rushing of the wind.

“What’s that?” he asked, glancing back at her with a wildly happy smile on his face. Her heart warmed to see him so joyful and she gave his waist an extra squeeze. He’d been carefully making a map as they passed over the land, marking rivers and landforms and forest boundaries in his notebook.

“Why you jumped off that cliff,” she said. “After we saw the trolls. Because this feeling -- it’s like nothing in the world!”

He laughed at that, clearly agreeing with her.

The Night Light looked back at them with a great blue eye and rumbled something at them, and Hiksti pointed ahead of them toward a castle high on a tall hill overlooking a placid, glassy lake surrounded by willow trees. “Is that the castle you saw?” he asked her.

“Yes!” Elsa cried. “I didn’t realize it was so far from the door!”

The castle had no defensive wall, relying solely on the terrain around it to keep it inaccessible. The hillside was steep and rocky, with exactly one clear path leading to the front door. A moat surrounded the walls and towers, and that was it.

But they didn’t stop there. The Night Light kept on going until the hills turned into low mountains, and beyond that stretched the sea, an endless sapphire expanse of water glittering in the sun.

Near the ocean-side mountains Hiksti could see cliffs dropping down to the crashing waves far below, and it was to one of these cliffs that the Night Light headed. “Look!” he said, pointing to an enormous cave that emptied into the ocean proper. The Night Light headed directly for it and flew right in.

The cavern was enormous, and smaller tunnels seemed to honeycomb the walls in every direction. Where the sea water rushed in there was a sizable lagoon, and right in the center of that lagoon lay the most gigantic creature Elsa had ever seen.

Mostly white, the creature had an elaborate frill of spines behind a flat face, and gargantuan tusks sloping down and away from its cheeks. Great sails ran the length of its broad back, and spikes taller than Elsa protruded chaotically from its powerful tail. Only part of it was above the water. “It’s got to be one hundred fifty meters long!” Elsa gasped. The book he’d written hadn’t been able to do it justice.

“Easily,” Hiksti agreed.

Directly to the Bewilderbeast they flew, and as they drew close, their Night Light let out a fearsome roar just as she landed on a large boulder jutting out of the water. “Quick, dismount,” Hiksti said and Elsa followed right after. “Thank you,” he told the Night Light. “Can I call you Brenna?” Brenna apparently didn’t mind and gave a chortling sort of growl.

Hiksti made quick work of removing the saddle as the Bewilderbeast’s eyes ponderously turned to look at them, and once it had them in its sights Hiksti bowed very low. Elsa did as well, and so did Brenna. A moment later Brenna rumbled something to the King of Dragons that sounded suspiciously like an explanation, complete with body language and rather dramatic facial expressions. Elsa looked around to see that there were hundreds -- maybe thousands -- of dragons around them, nestled in various nooks and crannies around the cavern wall, some popping their heads out of tunnels, others hoving in mid-air, all paying close attention to the story-telling.

The King listened, its eyes considering them carefully, before he slowly began to stand up. Waterfalls cascaded from his broad back, and dozens of little baby dragons that Elsa hadn’t noticed before were spooked into flight. Every movement seemed elephantine in nature, the motions of his great legs seeming slow, but that was deceptive - in reality he was moving at a good clip. He heaved himself out of the water completely and walked up the bank to gaze at the far wall. He turned to look at Hiksti and Elsa and groaned.

“I think he wants us to look at something,” Hiksti said. Elsa slipped her hand into his and they made their way along the ledge toward the King. As they passed the saddle on the ground, a passing thought from her had it dissolving like so much summer snow.

There were cave paintings, done in charcoal black against the off-white walls. Crude, but clearly telling a story. A boy, a Night Fury, and adventure upon adventure, all of which Elsa had seen before in the walls of her glacier, now recorded here. Others were there as well, humans and dragons. “It’s… it’s their history,” Hiksti said, extending a reverent hand toward a portrait of a thin, shaggy-haired, one-legged man who was clearly him. Before he could touch the charcoal lines the King of Dragons rumbled a warning, and Hiksti let his hand fall away again. He pointed toward his icon. “This is me,” he explained. “When I was a boy, hundreds of years ago.”

“Family always remembers,” Elsa said quietly, recalling the words of the kind farmer, Otylia. She put her hand on his back and he gave her a bitter-sweet look in return.

“Look,” Elsa said, pointing to another figure writ large on the cave walls. A man with a long beard and robes and a tall staff in one hand. It showed him leading the dragons through the magical doors. “This must be Myrddin.” Hiksti nodded, silently agreeing with her as his eyes took in the story, trying to decipher it. The castle was there as well, nine towers on a steep hill, and nine long-haired women with crowns upon their heads and upraised arms.

“The Fairy Queens,” Hiksti guessed. They were depicted more than once, always with their hands upraised and lines of power shooting from them toward some landform or body of water. At one point they escorted a crowned man laid out in a boat, which Elsa thought looked rather like a funeral. The nine queens all laid silently on some sort of platform, dead or asleep, it was hard to tell.

“I’m not very familiar with Aurthurian legends,” Elsa said slowly. “One of these is Arthur’s sister, though? Morgan?”

“Morgan Le Fay,” Hiksti said. “Mab. Titania. Diana. Gloriana. Nimue. Argante. Uonaidh. Calista.”

Elsa just shook her head, impressed by her husband’s near encyclopedic knowledge of trivia and legends. “And Gothel,” she said, her tone turning sour.

“What?” Hiksti asked. He looked away from the Fairy Queens to a woman with wild, curly hair who appeared to be murdering a dragon. “That’s her? The witch you told me about?”

Elsa nodded. “She found her way to the doors and would come here on occasion to kill a dragon and… harvest.” She shuddered. Then she turned to look up at the Bewilderbeast. “She’s dead,” she told him. “She died a few years ago. You won’t have to worry about her doing that, any more.”

The Bewilderbeast rumbled a pleased note, and all around them dragons raised their voices in a brief celebration. Then the Bewilderbeast blew a breath of cold, misty air at them, a frosty benediction of sorts, and he turned and lumbered back into his pool to relax.

They spent hours there, meeting dozens and dozens of curious dragons. Elsa may have been influenced by her husband’s obvious preference, but she liked the Night Lights the most. Sleek and fast and curious and intelligent, they just had so much personality that she couldn’t help but enjoy their company. When night fell, however, they decided to make their camp on the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. The dragons left them alone after that, going about their own business.

They ate and made love, a joyful, wild joining that left them both out of breath and exhausted. As they cuddled afterward, Elsa noticed something. “Hiksti, you’re glowing,” she said.

“Yeah, well, you have that effect on me,” he said, his eyes closed and a delighted grin curling his mouth upward.

“No, I mean, actually glowing,” she said.

He opened his eyes and looked at himself, and then her. “You, too,” he said, sitting up. And Elsa realized that he was right - they were both bathed in a balmy, faint golden glow. They looked at each other in wonder - there was something about the glow that felt safe and warm. After a minute it faded away.

“I wonder what that was about?” Hiksti said. But, not feeling threatened, he just lay down and opened his arms again, and Elsa snuggled up to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Something to do with our love-making,” she murmured. “Something to do with the power here. It’s so strong. It feels like Ahtohallan, only bigger, somehow, as if this entire world is made of magic.”

“Maybe it is,” Hiksti said. “Maybe that’s why you can create a real saddle instead of an ice saddle.”

‘Hmm,” she sighed. “I wonder if I could…” she stopped herself and shivered.

“What?” he asked, curiosity piqued.

“No, I… that’s just hubris,” she said. “I shouldn’t even go there.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

“No, I don’t,” she countered.

“If you don’t tell me, I might actually die of curiosity,” he informed her seriously. “And you don’t want that, right? Not after all the trouble of making me swear to live out my life and breaking my curse and getting married to me and whatnot. Right?” He jostled her. “Tell meeeeeee,” he pleaded.

Elsa giggled. “Fine,” she said. “I was just wondering if… if I could create… a real life.” She paused. “Like, instead of a snowman, could I create a person? A living, breathing, person, with a heart and a brain and… and tear ducts and a liver, all of that.” She shook her head. “But… like I said. Hubris.”

Hiksti was silent for a very, very long time, and Elsa was just beginning to wonder if he’d actually fallen asleep.

“That would be playing a god,” he said. “And you might attract their wrath. I’d maybe not do that, if I were you.”

“Okay, agreed,” Elsa said quickly.

“We can just create a life together, someday,” he said, kissing her head. “The old fashioned way.”

“Someday,” she agreed.

The next morning they were up with the sun, and Hiksti caught them some fish for breakfast. As they cooked it, the occasional curious dragon popped in for a visit, staying for a minute or two and then leaving again.

“So… are you planning on bringing any of the dragons back with us?” Elsa asked him curiously.

He gave her a look. “Not really,” he told her. “They’re happy here, and safe. Why bring them to our world where they’ll only be feared and hunted and killed?” He shook his head. “I only wish Myrddin were still alive, I would give him my entire treasure horde for saving them.”

Elsa nodded and propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands. “When we get home I can make us a snow dragon,” she suggested. “Like Olaf and Marshmallow. No one will hunt it because it’ll be my creation and everyone will know that.”

“Hm,” Hiksti said. He thought about it while he took the fish away from the flames and handed one to her. She fetched her knife from its sheath and started to eat, blowing on the hot carcass. “Arendelle is surprisingly accepting of your creations, and the Northuldran, too. Maybe you could,” he conceded. “Or you could give wings to the Nokk.”

Elsa smiled. “Only if he’d let me.” She couldn’t imagine a creature of the water taking kindly to being so far removed from his element. The few times she’d convinced him to come onto the land he’d always radiated a palpable relief to be back in the water.

A Night Light landed next to them, and Hiksti and Elsa smiled at it. “Hey, there, bud,” Hiksti said. He held out his hand and the dragon nudged it with its nose, and they were friends. Hiksti tossed it a bit of fish, which it gulped down. This one was mostly white, with black legs and black around its eyes, black ear-like plates, and a black tail. Its great, green eyes stared relentlessly at the fish, practically begging for more.

Elsa giggled. “It looks like a panda,” she said.

“Hah, you’re right!” Hiksti agreed. “We’ll name you Panda, then. Do you like that?”

Panda didn’t seem to mind one way or another.

“Is it a girl or a boy?” Elsa asked curiously.

Hiksti squinted at it, thought for a moment. “A boy,” he told her.

“I don’t know how you know that,” she said, shaking her head.

“There are some small differences,” he explained. “The heavier eye-ridges, the size is a bit bigger, and the shape of the wings and tail fins is sharper.”

Another Night Light flew up from below their cliff-side and landed. “A girl,” Elsa guessed.

“You’re right,” Hiksti said, giving her a proud smile.

This Night Light was about half-white, half-black. She had a solid stripe down her back which was inky black. The black became dappled with white until it gradually blended into her snow-white underside. The tips of her wings and tail fins were white, but the rest was black. She had sky-blue eyes. When she landed, Panda stood up to greet her, and she rubbed her chin along his cheek and then snuggled her way under his chin until she was past him. She circled to the other side of the fire and sat there to watch what was going on.

Elsa picked up the half of the fish she hadn’t gotten to, and held out her hand. “Would you like this?” she offered. The Night Light very politely took it, not even drooling on Elsa’s hand in the process. Elsa grinned. “Can I name this one?” she asked. Hiksti nodded. “Dapple,” she declared. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

Dapple clearly agreed with Elsa’s assessment as to her good looks, and grinned at them with retracted teeth.

“Panda and Dapple seem to be a mated pair,” Hiksti said. “They way they greeted one another. It’s how I saw Toothless and his mate greet each other a few times.”

“Well, it’s our first double-date!” Elsa laughed.

“I think…” Hiksti was quiet. “I think there must have been more Night Furies in the world,” he said. “I never found any, as long as I lived. But there are so many with so much black in them… it doesn’t make sense that the trait would be so strong after so many generations.”

“Perhaps Myrddin found them,” Elsa suggested.

“Yeah, perhaps. He had certain advantages over me.” Magic, primarily.

“Were there other Light Furies?”

“Yeah,” he said. “By the time I left there were a few who’d made it to the Hidden World. They ended up being Toothless’s children’s mates, which was good because I was worried about inbreeding.”

Elsa grimaced at the idea. “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” she said. “We could go and visit that castle.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that!” Hiksti said. He rubbed his chin. “But first, a shave. It’s hot in Avalon.”

Chapter Text

Panda and Dapple stayed with them until after breakfast, taking great interest in the way Hiksti and Elsa packed up their little camp, and obligingly eating all of the leftover fish. They romped around the two humans, play-fighting and bouncing around like a pair of kittens, until their human pets started walking away. Panda put himself before them so that they were forced to stop, and tilted his head quizzically.

“We’re just going to go see that castle,” Hiksti explained.

Panda bounced a few steps away and opened his wings, flapped them, and looked at Hiksti expectantly. Dapple rolled her eyes while Elsa giggled. “We don’t have wings,” she explained to Panda. “We have to walk.”

Panda clearly thought that was stupid, and took a running start at Hiksti, grabbed him by the leg, and started to take off flying. He got a few meters into the air before he realized that while the leg was in his mouth, the rest of Hiksti was still on the ground.

Dappled gave an amused laugh, which set Elsa and Hiksti off as well. Panda seemed mildly annoyed, but not offended, as he landed next to Hiksti and spat out the leg.

“Oh, gross,” Elsa remarked, looking at the saliva coating the metal.

“Yeah, this stuff never washes out,” Hiksti told her, sounding resigned. He wiped off what he could, and strapped the leg back on before standing. “If you want us to fly with you, we’ll need to put on saddles,” he said. “My amazing wife can make some. Would that be okay?”

Dapple seemed to like the idea and sidled up to Elsa, then opened her wings to allow the Snow Queen access to her back. A few moments later and Elsa had two saddles sized for the Night Lights, which she and Hiksti carefully buckled on. It was quick work to get mounted, and then they were off.

Elsa’s second flight was even more exhilarating than her first, because Hiksti wasn’t there to hold on to. Despite the white-knuckled grip she kept on the handles, an ebullient whoop escaped her as their dragons showed off a little bit, diving and doing tricks. A hastily-added seatbelt is all that kept her from falling off at one point when Dapple decided to do a barrel roll, and she cast one for Hiksti, too, who laughed, but put it on.

Perhaps twenty minutes passed before they were able to see the castle, and Elsa looked carefully at it as they circled it a couple of times before Panda picked out one of the high towers to land on. Dapple settled gracefully by his side, and Elsa slid off, followed by her husband. “Thanks, guys,” Hiksti told the dragons warmly. “Would you mind sticking around for a while, until we’re done poking around?”

Dapple gave him a look like he was being silly, and walked to the door leading into the tower. She put her paw on it and gave a soft, experimental push.

“Let me try,” Elsa said, laying her hand on the door handle and waiting until Dapple put her paw down. She turned the brass ring and the door opened inward with a soft snick and hinges that didn’t squeal at all. “It’s well-oiled,” she observed.

“Do people live here?” Hiksti asked Panda. Panda blinked at him and tilted his head, then folded his wings against his sides.

“They’re not talkative,” Elsa grinned. “Let’s just go find out.”

So they carefully went into the tower, walking down a spiral staircase. Every so often they came across a landing that spanned the whole width of the tower, and every one of them was comfortably furnished as a library, a study, a parlor, etc.

“I could spend years just reading every book here,” Hiksti said, awe in his voice at the first library they came across. “Look at these scrolls!”

“I see them,” Elsa said patiently. “But there doesn’t appear to be anyone in here, so… we should keep looking.”

“There’s no dust anywhere,” Hiksti said. “No cobwebs. Either this is being cleaned on a regular basis, or…”

“Or?”

“Or,” he said, “There are some good cleaning enchantments.” He paused. “This is Avalon, after all.”

“Island of apples,” Elsa translated. “I haven’t seen a single apple tree. And if this is an island it’s a big island.”

“Yeah,” Hiksti agreed. “Don’t blame me for the name.” Finally they reached the foot of the tower and opened the door, which led to a beautiful courtyard. In the very center of that courtyard there was, indeed, an apple tree, with bright golden apples that blushed pink where they faced the sun.

“Don’t eat those,” Hiksti and Elsa said at the same time. Hiksti looked at her, eyes wide, and she gave him a serious look before explaining. “There is something about that tree that just screams forbidden. It feels wrong. It… it’s like listening to nails on a slate,” she told him, and he gave her an understanding grimace.

They gave the tree a wide berth and Hiksti made for the largest, most ornate door in the courtyard, leading to the main keep, and situated opposite to the great double-doors leading outside and across the moat.

This was unlocked, too, and when they pulled it open a rush of cool air blew their hair back. Dapple and Panda shirked away from it for a moment before peering in curiously over the humans’ shoulders.

Hiksti took the lead, his eyes darting every which way, trying to see what there was to see.

For some reason, the room invited reverence, with a high ceiling supported by slender columns and pointed arches. Gold and silver were everywhere, from the intricate design of vines and roses on the floor to the edges of the railings that encircled every column. Along the length of the hall were ten long, rectangular boxes, all having golden walls and glass tops. “What are those?” Elsa whispered. Hiksti shook his head and they crept closer.

As they approached, Elsa realized that there were people sleeping inside of them.

Nine women lay in repose, and one man. Every one of them was richly dressed and laid out with items -- some had scepters, others wands, or crystal balls, or a staff or a sword, and one black-haired beauty had a bow and arrows.

“Are they dead?” Hiksti asked, peering down at the delicate white face of one woman with long ringlets of red hair and slightly pointed ears.

“No,” Elsa breathed, laying her fingertips on the glass of the coffin belonging to a dark-haired woman in a black-and-silver dress. “These are the fairy queens,” she said. “And they’re alive.” She could feel that, though she couldn’t see them breathing, couldn’t detect a heartbeat in their throats. They were still as stone, but she knew in her bones that they were living.

“What about this fellow?” Hiksti asked, gesturing her over to the only other man in the room.

Elsa looked down at a brown-haired man in his forties, with grey at his temples and in his beard, wearing a solid gold crown studded with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds. “Alive,” she told him.

“This is King Arthur Pendragon,” Hiksti guessed. “It must be.”

“Why are they all sleeping like this?” Elsa wondered. She looked to the dragons, who were carefully prowling around the coffins and peering down at the people within with extreme curiosity. Panda made a confused-sounding groan which Dapple echoed, clearly indicating that they had no idea.

“These are the people in your history,” Hiksti told them. “The women of power.” He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers, “Phhheewww!” he said, imitating magic. Elsa raised her eyebrow at him and he awkwardly dropped his hands.

Dapple sat on her haunches and looked around her, then to Elsa and Hiksti as if to say, ‘What next?’ The humans came closer to her and Elsa took the opportunity to give her a scratch under her chin, and then of course Panda wanted some attention, which Hiksti happily provided.

“Who are you?” came a light voice.

Elsa whirled around in tandem with her husband while the dragons started back and raised their wings high, looking for the source of the voice.

A small child stood there, just in front of King Arthur’s coffin. She had green skin and wildly unkempt nut-brown hair, and was wearing a ragged white dress which had seen better days. She looked to be about six years old, but something about her amber eyes sent a shiver down Elsa’s spine.

“I’m Hiksti,” he introduced himself. “And this is my wife, Elsa.”

“Why are you god-touched here?” the child asked. “You were not invited.”

“We just wanted to see,” Elsa tried explaining. “We came to meet the dragons and see how they were doing, and we saw this castle and wondered who lived here.”

“I live here,” the child said. Her face hardened. “You cannot have them, they are mine. I take care of them. Leave this place!” She ran at them, her fingers curled into claws and her teeth bared, showing off a pair of white fangs in her red, red mouth. The unnaturalness of it set Elsa’s skin to crawling, and she hastily scuttled away.

“We’ll leave!” Hiksti said. “No need to attack us, young lady!”

“I am older than you, you nasty man!” the child howled. She launched herself at him, and Hiksti caught her, pinning her arms to her sides while she kicked and struggled like a wildcat.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Hikst said drily. He held firm, willing to let the weird child tire herself out. The dragons watched -- Panda with an incredulous look on his face, Dapple with an amused one. At length the child exhausted herself and hung limply in Hiksti’s arms.

“Fine,” she said, sounding defeated. “You win. Just… do not hurt them, please. They are defenseless.”

“We didn’t come to hurt them,” Elsa told her, crouching down a little to bring her eye-level to the girl’s. “We don’t mean harm to anyone here, not you or the fairy queens, King Arthur, or the dragons.”

“Do you promise?” asked the girl.

At the world promise, Elsa could feel a heavy tension in the air, magic waiting to pounce, to bind. But she nodded. “I promise,” she said. She felt the magic snap into place, settling across her skin in an invisible pact that felt, to her, nigh-unbreakable. Even Hiksti shivered.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“You promised,” the girl said. “You mean no harm. You can let me go, I will not fight you.”

Hiksti carefully set her down on the floor, and the child spun around to face them. Her nose twitched as she looked back and forth between them, and finally her yellow eyes settled on Elsa. “You are a magic elemental,” she announced. “But you are far from the source of your power.” She tilted her head to one side as goosebumps rose on Elsa’s skin. “How are you finding the magic, here?”

Elsa thought about that for a second. “Potent,” she answered.

“Do not worry, it will not change you too much,” the child said, her tone patronizing though Elsa thought she meant to sound reassuring. “Just do not use too much of it, is all.”

“Why not?”

The child stepped up to Elsa and examined her clothes carefully, peering at the embroidery and stitch-work. “I want some of these,” she declared. “Just exactly the same. Make me some,” she demanded.

“You little brat,” Hiksti said calmly. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

The child sneered at him for a moment before composing her face and looking at Elsa again. “I do not know why you are bonded to him,” she said. “He is not nearly so powerful as you. Practically no magic at all. Just this…” she waved her hand in the air. “...lingering after-taste.”

Elsa stared down at the child, and briefly pressed her lips together. “I love him,” she said.

“Oh. Well. I suppose that is reason enough,” the child sighed.

Hiksti stifled a laugh.

“Will you… please… make me some clothes like yours?” the child asked Elsa, and smiled as an after-thought. The sight was disconcerting, but Elsa tried not to look too discomfited.

“I certainly can,” Elsa said. “And will you please answer some questions?”

“Deal!” the child accepted. “Once you make a deal with a fairy, it is as good as done. We never go back on our word.”

“I’ve heard as much,” Elsa said calmly. Then with a gesture of her hands the child’s clothes were transformed into an exact replica of her own, but sized to fit the little waif.

“Whee!” the child yelled, and danced capriciously about the room, arms and legs shooting out in awkward angles. “Look at how fancy I am, now!”

“Extremely fancy,” Hiksti told her, eyes twinkling. “Now… for the first question. What is your name?”

“I would not tell you that,” the child said, aghast. “Know you nothing of fairies?”

Elsa and Hiksti exchanged glances. “You’re right,” Hiksti said. “Sorry, that was very human of me.”

“What’s this about?” Elsa asked.

“Well, names have power,” Hiksti said. “And knowing a fairy's name gives you power over her.”

“Oh, we don’t need that,” Elsa told her. “Can we give you a nickname?”

“Nickname?” the child parroted back.

“Something we can call you, that’s not your real name, but still means you, to us.”

The child thought about this for a moment, and then nodded. “Certainly,” she said, trying her best to sound very mature. “And what nickname would you bestow upon me, Elsa?”

Elsa pondered that for a moment. “What kind of magic do you have?” she asked.

“Magic of the leaf and vine,” the child answered proudly. “Magic of the flower and the thorn and the grasses. Magic of all green growing things is my domain.”

“Then I’ll call you Asta,” Elsa said. “Meaning tree. A tree that provides protection and shade and fruit and peace.”

The child’s face brightened with a delighted smile and she laughed and did her strange dance around the room again. “I love it!” she declared. “What a strange and unexpected gift you give, Elsa!”

“Now can you answer some questions for us, Asta?” Hiksti asked.

“Yes!” Asta cried.

“What are you protecting them from?”

The child stopped her capering and looked at Hiksti with an intense yellow gaze. “The sons of Adam,” she said. “Those who come here and chop and burn and slaughter, and leave again with only destruction as their legacy. I hate them!”

“Men come here?” Elsa asked sharply. “How? Through the great doors in the meadow?”

The child shook her head. “They come from the waters,” she explained. “By and by a great mist blows up on the southern sea. A long ship with cloud-leafed trees comes to the sea. Then smaller ships with many oars come from it and beach themselves upon the shore and the men come. They come for trees, and for gold in the river. They come for dragons and fairies, and cut them into pieces and take some of those pieces with them. Every time they come, they venture a little bit further. We are scared of them, those fire-setters, those axe-men, those diggers and killers.” She shivered. “You kill one, and more step into his place.”

Elsa and Hiksti exchanged an appalled glance. “How far away is this beach in the south?” Hiksti asked.

“For those on walking legs,” Asta said thoughtfully. “The journey would take many days. For those on the wing, much faster.”

“How long have they been coming here?” asked Elsa.

“Many years,” Asta told them. “Almost my whole life. Can you believe it? They killed my parents, those murderers!” She crossed her arms. “I fled here, and here I have stayed ever since, protecting the queens and their pet man, though I am not certain he deserves it.”

“We have to help them,” Hiksti said, turning to Elsa with this big peridot eyes of his.

“Obviously,” Elsa said, agreeing with a soft smile. She loved that no matter how old her husband was, no matter what he’d seen and done in his life, he still wanted to help others less fortunate.

“What can you even do, Hiksti, son of Adam?” asked Asta scathingly.

“First of all, my father’s name was Stóumen the Mikill,” Hiksti said.

“The Fat Sufferer?” Asta translated.

“More like Stoick the Vast,” Hiksti told her, exasperated and amused at the same time. Elsa giggled quietly and behind her Dapple and Panda gave draconic chuckles, too.

“Well, what can you do?” Asta demanded.

“I'm over eighteen centuries old,” Hiksti told her. “Many, many, many human lifetimes. I can do quite a lot.”

The child gave him an incredulous look. “You are just a human, though,” she said. “Are you lying?”

“No, I’m telling the truth right now, I promise,” Hiksti told her.

Again Elsa felt something snap into place, and the words seemed to satisfy Asta. “Are you immortal?”

“I was,” Hiksti said. “But no longer. I’ll age and die, as any human would.”

She turned her amber gaze on Elsa. “I see why you married him, now,” she said. “Anyone that old has a lot of stories to tell.”

Chapter Text

"Why can't I use magic too much?" Elsa asked curiously. "You never answered that."

"Because you are human," said Asta. "Mostly. And your magic is the magic of the Old World, not Avalon. Avalon magic will…. Um…" she put a finger to her chin thoughtfully and looked upward. "It will just... change you," she said at last. "I do not know how to explain it. If you change too much, you cannot leave again. As it is with them." She gestured at the coffins with their comatose occupants.

A chill went through Elsa and she glanced at Hiksti's face to see that he was worried. "Alright, noted," she said. "Don't use too much magic."

"How will she know if it's too much?" Hiksti demanded.

Asta shrugged.

"You should go," Hiksti told Elsa suddenly. "We should just send you home right now. I can't risk losing you here."

Elsa stared at him. "You think I'm going to just leave you here?" she asked. "There is no way that's happening."

"Elsa, my love," Hiksti said, stepping closer to her. "You use magic as naturally as others breathe. It's all the time. To make things like the saddles and the clothes, to light your way, for protection - even when you don't mean to, you use it. You use it when you get angry or upset or when you're startled or afraid, and you don't even know you're doing it until it's already happened."

Asta watched the exchange between them with interest, her yellow eyes bouncing back and forth over and over again.

"I… yes," Elsa said. "That's true. But who's to say that I haven't already used too much? I'll just be careful, is all. No monumental feats if I can help it."

"It takes a lot to use too much, though," Asta said.

Elsa turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"The queen who raised this castle, that was it for her," she explained. She trotted over to the coffin with the black-haired beauty with the bow and arrows. "Diana," she said. Then she came to the red-head Hiksti had been looking at earlier. "This is Morgan Le Fey. She did a lot of magic. All kinds of spells, like healing spells and shape-shifting."

"Myrddin made a portal," Hiksti pointed out. "Did he have to stay?"

Asta tilted her head and thought about that. "I do not think he used Avalon magic for that," she admitted. "It does not feel the same. He made the portal from there to here." She stood a bit straighter. "My parents knew him."

"I'm so sorry that they were killed," Elsa said to the girl.

"Why?" Asta asked her. "You did not do it. It was done by that mean Son of Adam."

"Do you know their names?" Elsa asked. "Or the language they speak?"

"They speak like this," Asta said, and switched from speaking Norwegian to speaking English. "Kill them! Aim for the heart, lads! Harvest the scales, the liver, and the meat for market! Load those logs onto the ship, make haste! How much gold have you gotten, this time?"

"English," Hiksti said. "They're English." Elsa nodded in agreement, looking troubled.

"Not good," she said.

"Not the worst," Hiksti argued.

"What do you mean, of course they are the worst!" Asta cried, stomping her foot. "They murdered my parents!"

"This King," Hikist said, pointing to Arthur's coffin. "Is their legendary king. They would never hurt Arthur, or any of these fairy queens, most likely. You don't have to stay here to protect them, they don't need it, not from these men. Maybe label his coffin, though, so they understand who he is."

Asta pouted and sent a resentful look toward Arthur. "I want him to wake up and command them to go away," she muttered.

"If I recall the legend correctly, he's to sleep until England's hour of greatest need - and right now that doesn't fit the bill. England's doing very well for itself, has built up quite the empire with colonies all over the world."

"So how do we repel these English invaders?" Elsa asked. "They've only got one of the greatest armies in the world, right now."

Hiksti paced back and forth, and Panda got up and followed him, imitating the serious body language, much to Dapple's amusement. "How many men usually arrive?" he asked Asta.

"Many and more," she told him.

"Can you give me a number?" he asked.

"I have nothing in my pockets," Asta said, after slipping her green-skinned hands into them and searching. "What is a number?"

Elsa was shocked. "You know," she said. "Like one, two, three, four, five," she said, ticking off her fingers.

Asta blinked at her. She suddenly started running around, arms akimbo, making a gruff sound in her throat out of pure frustration. "Many and more!" she yelled. "All of your fingers!" She gestured wildly to the coffins. "All of their fingers!"

"A hundred," Hiksti said, frowning. "Or more."

"Hiksti, we can't fight a hundred men," Elsa told him.

"Not alone," he agreed. "We'll need help."

Elsa stared at him for a moment more before they both turned to look at the two Night Lights with them. Dapple drew back a bit at the intensity of their stare and Panda tilted his head to one side. "Mrrrr?" he queried.

Hiksti looked at Asta again. "How often do they come?" he asked her.

Asta shrugged her shoulders again. "Sometimes," she said. "By and by, the mist rises, and they come."

Elsa sighed, but couldn't blame the poor orphan for not knowing math and how to tell time. "Can you take us to where they come?" she asked her gently.

"I can do that," Asta answered. "What will you give me?"

Elsa dropped into a crouch to bring her face more level with Asta's. "How about I teach you numbers?" she suggested. "It's a very useful tool that will serve you well in your life."

Asta considered this for a moment, and then nodded. "Deal," she agreed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They spent the night in the castle, and by mutual agreement they made their beds in one of the tower rooms, which was furnished with comfortable couches and furs and pillows, and gave a fantastic view of the surrounding countryside. Hiksti took the time to fish from the lake, providing enough for himself, his wife, the dragons, and the orphaned fairy to eat. Elsa cooked the fish and went with Asta to gather wild greens for a salad. He smoked the rest over a fire well into the evening to take with them on their journey south.

They slept well and left the next morning. Asta rode with Elsa on Dapple, while Hiksti rode on Panda. They followed the river that flowed out of the lake as it snaked through the heavy forest southward, toward the sea.

It took them three days to fly there, as the dragons were pushing against a headwind the entire time. When they landed the first evening, Asta tumbled to the ground and spread her arms against the earth, pressing her face to it and kissing it fervently. "I do not like flying so high!" she moaned. "It is cold! It is too far from the earth!"

"I wish you'd told me you were cold," Elsa said, patting her shoulder. "I would have loaned you my cape. I don't mind the cold, you see."

Asta rolled over and looked up at her. "How does your magic manifest, Elsa Elemental?"

From the corner of her eye Elsa saw Hiksti grin at her new title. "Ice and snow, for the main part," she said. "But also light and wind and sometimes water, if I concentrate. And cloth."

"Hm," Asta hummed.

"Alright, let's begin your lesson on numbers." Elsa found a good stick and began to clear leaves and debris away from the bank of the river to reveal the wet clay beneath. She drew a 1. "This is one," she told the girl. "It means only this many." She held up a finger.

Asta looked at her finger and the number in the clay. "One," she repeated. "This many fingers."

"This many anything," Elsa corrected. "We have one Hiksti, and Hiksti has one whole leg. We have one Elsa, and Elsa has one stick in her hand. We have one Asta, and Asta has one nose on her face."

Asta giggled and touched her nose. "I have…" she cast about her body. "I have one tongue!" she shouted. "I have one heart!" She thumped her chest triumphantly.

"Exactly!" Elsa said. "Good job! I would like you to write the number 1."

Asta took the stick from her and clumsily copied the 1 in the clay next to Elsa's, then gave it back when the Snow Queen extended her hand for it.

"Now, this is two," she said, drawing the number.

By the time Hiksti had cooked their dinner, they had gone all the way to ten, and Asta was examining the dragon's feet to see if they had ten claws or not. Only four per foot, as it happened. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," she kept muttering to herself, counting pebbles on the ground, leaves in the trees, her own fingers, and everything else.

The next day Elsa made sure to wrap Asta securely in her cape and blanket, and the child complained less when they landed. The fairy orphan proved to be a very quick study, and by the time they were ready to turn in, she had learned her numbers all the way to one hundred. She'd spent the better part of the evening lining up small pebbles in neat rows and columns of ten, and counting them and writing as many of the numbers as she could in the clay riverbank.

"I like the patterns," she told Elsa. "They just repeat again and again. It is easy."

"Wait until you try long division," Hiksti told her with a grin.

During their third day the terrain changed, sloping down from the great forest as the river carved a ravine. By late afternoon they found the mouth of the river where it left its high ravine walls and met the sea, and there was no sign of any ships in the bay or the watercourse. Even without an immediate threat they decided to make camp well back in the trees at the top of the ravine, looking down the cliffs to the wide beach below. Their campsite wasn't inaccessible from the beach, but the climb would be arduous and slow-going at best.

Elsa taught Asta how to count to one thousand, and that only took her an hour for the child was a very astute person who was eager to learn. She had just introduced the concept of addition when Hiksti, who had been scouting around the campsite, came back with a brace of rabbits.

"There are signs of logging," he told Elsa as he started skinning the carcasses. "Probably two hundred fifty or sixty stumps to the east of us." He sighed. "And a small pit full of bones."

"Bones?" Elsa asked, goosebumps raising on her arms and neck.

"A few dragons," he said. "And more than a few fairies." He glanced at Asta. The green-skinned child poked her stick viciously into the ground a few times, scowling and apparently trying not to cry. She scrawled 250 in the dirt. "There's also an abandoned village," he said. "All built in the trees. I'm guessing fairies."

Elsa breathed in and out slowly and kept the magic at bay, willing control over her emotions. "Was that your village?" she asked Asta, who nodded silently. "What happened to the fairies who lived there?"

"They killed the elders," came the little orphan's voice. "And they killed my parents and my friend's father. The rest of us fled. We ran and flew away, into the trees, and up the river. I ran and ran and ran, until no one was around, any more. And I kept going north along the river, until I found the castle."

"Can you tell us how long ago that was?" Elsa asked.

"I do not even know how old I am," Asta said. "If we could find my tree perhaps you could tell," she suggested.

"I happen to know a lot about trees," Hiksti said, and Elsa recalled his sojourn to the New World and how he spent a couple of decades 'looking at trees'. "Can you find it for us?"

"It is by the village," Asta said. "In the Children's Grove." She rubbed her arms and shivered despite the day's heat.

"Have you been back there, since that first time?" Elsa asked her.

Asta nodded. "Twice I came. I saw what they did. The village was empty. Then the men came again and I never returned."

"We don't really need to know," Hiksti decided. "We won't make you do anything you don't want, alright, Asta?" he said gently.

The child looked up at them gratefully, and Elsa's heart squeezed. Silently she vowed that whoever hurt this child and her kin would pay for their crimes.

Chapter Text

The next morning Hiksti sent Dapple back to the Bewilderbeast to get reinforcements. “She’ll be gone for at least four days,” Elsa said, already missing the beautiful Night Light. “In the meantime, we had better begin preparing for the invasion.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” Hiksti said.

“Oh?” she asked. She was watching Asta carefully, but the child was ten meters up a tree, as agile as a squirrel.

“You don’t really have any battle skills,” he said.

Elsa paused, then nodded. “This is true,” she agreed.

“But there are a few things I can teach you that you may learn quickly enough to be a threat.”

“Like what?” she asked. “I’m not too bad at archery.” As a rather solitary sport, it was one thing that had held her interest for a while, growing up. She’d been fair at it, before losing control of her powers had prompted her to stop.

“A good bow takes too long to make, properly,” he said, shaking his head. “Still, you can use mine, maybe. And you can help me make some arrows. But I was thinking about booby traps.”

“Booby traps?” Elsa repeated.

“Yeah,” he said. “Swinging logs and rocks, disguised pits, caltrops, snares, poison smoke, that kind of thing.”

“Oh… okay,” she said, sounding a bit uncertain. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Luckily for us I’ve got loads of experience,” he reassured her. “And with Panda and Asta helping, we’ll be able to make some good ones.”

They spent three days making booby traps and planning how best to lure the unlucky pirates to their doom. Elsa kept offering to use her magic and Hiksti flatly refused every time, so she worked and sweated and got blisters and calluses and sore muscles, which her husband skillfully massaged for her at night.

Asta was invaluable, finding plants for them that Hiksti needed -- mostly poisonous things and vines with long, deadly-looking thorns. Panda provided muscle where needed, too, and Elsa discovered how well Night Lights were equipped to dig, carry heavy things, and help fell trees by blasting them with a well-aimed plasma ball. Every day they made an aerial reconnaissance, but there was still no sign of any ships, and no sign of Dapple with the other dragons.

And no sign of fairies.

As every day passed, Elsa came to admire her husband more and more. The sheer breadth of knowledge he possessed, the incredible work ethic he displayed, and the ever-patient way he dealt with the precocious orphan in their care increased her admiration and respect and love.

Plus, watching him lift and haul and chop and dig, all his lean muscles glistening with sweat, did rather funny things to her insides. She half-resented having Asta act as an unwitting chaperone, just by being constantly around, and then felt bad for the resentment. To make up for her uncharitable feelings she carefully tamed the wild child’s hair and braided it. She was pleased to discover that once all the snarls and matting were brushed out, Asta’s hair reached her waist.

And Asta, for her part, seemed to have adopted them. She fetched them water and chided them to stop and eat when it was time for meals. She tried to learn how to cook, and managed not to badly burn too much of their food. Every day she begged Hiksti for stories, and he regaled her with tales of his early years before his curse, when he and his friends rescued and trained dragons. She begged Elsa, too, and the Snow Queen told her stories of her sister, and of Olaf and Kristoff and Sven, of her parents, and of the books she’d read.

The child took to snuggling up next to her at night around the fire, and would wrap her thin arms around Elsa’s waist and rest her head on her shoulder. “I can hear your heartbeat!” she said that first time, absolutely delighted. “Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump!”

Elsa squeezed her tighter and rested her cheek on Asta’s head. She was starting to love the little scamp, and didn’t know what she was going to do about it.

Their fifth afternoon in their little camp, and Hiksti came back to them bearing a few things in a sack. “I found these in the village,” he told Elsa and Asta. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Asta came over to see what he was talking about, and Elsa saw that he was carrying a few bronze frying pans and pots and tea kettles and some bronze tools, as well as a few rough smithing tools.

“What’s all this?” Elsa asked.

Asta picked up a frying pan and swung it around experimentally before she stopped and gave Hiksti a strange look. “This isn’t a weapon,” she told him. “My mother used to make food in this. This is mine!”

“You can keep that one, then,” he told her. “But I want to melt down the rest to make arrowheads. It’ll go faster than knapping more stone arrowheads, anyway.” He and Elsa simultaneously glanced at their unfinished pile of arrows, knocked and fletched and awaiting points. He’d already spent arduous hours making what they had and Elsa approved of anything that would ease his work load.

Before night fell he’d made what he needed, and as each one became cool enough to handle, Elsa fastened it to the arrows. Asta helped by handing over supplies and tools, her elfin face serious and focused on the task.

Hours later, the child was finally fast asleep, and Hiksti was staring at his wife with a familiar amorous gleam in his eye. He waggled his eyebrows in silent invitation.

“We can’t,” she whispered, afraid to wake their orphan.

“We can, too,” he countered, pulling her close and kissing her soundly.

She melted against him but pushed back and glanced at the tent. “We’ll wake her.”

“No, we won’t,” he promised. “Come with me.” He raised his hand to Panda. “Guard her,” he murmured to the dragon, who snuffled and nodded. Hiksti took Elsa by the hand and led her away from their camp, toward the cliff-side.

On a wide, mostly level, flatish boulder lay his bedding and furs atop a soft bed of pine needles. “My lady,” he said, bowing extravagantly.

Elsa giggled and tiptoed over to them, holding his hand the entire way and then pulling him close to her. “It’s been torture,” she admitted, rising on her toes to kiss him.

“Mm?” He sprinkled little kisses down her neck and his hands spread across her waist.

“Watching you work,” she said, tipping her head back. “So… strong and… capable…”

“You like that, do you?” he asked her, a smile in his voice. “Just wait until I show you just what I’m capable of.” He lay her down on the furs and pulled the blanket over them, she giggled in delight, and for a while they were alone together, and it was sweet and wonderful and just what they needed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Long after the magical golden after-glow had faded, Elsa woke at midnight because the ambient magic that she felt around them at all times here in Avalon just… rippled. She gasped as she sat up, clutching Hiksti’s blanket to her chest, and her eyes were drawn to the bay far below. There on the still black water rolled a soft mist, catching the light of all three full moons in the sky. Like foggy fingers, the mist stretched its grasp toward the pebbled beach, and from within it came first the glow of lanterns, and then the prow of a ship, adorned with a grisly skeleton.

Not a merchant vessel, this, but sleek and fast-looking, and Elsa estimated a crew of perhaps a hundred twenty at most. It was painted all black, and from the mainmast flew a black flag with a skull and crossbones.

“Pirates,” Hikst breathed, wide awake and close behind her.

Elsa turned toward him. “Asta’s murdering Sons of Adam are pirates?” She shook her head. Pirates hadn’t been much of a bother off Arendelle’s waters for over a hundred years. “But don’t pirates usually just take other ships and steal their booty? Why sail to Avalon and harvest timber and… that’s a lot of work, isn’t it?”

“That’s a very… fairy-tale way of looking at pirates,” Hiksti told her with an amused smile. “The gold in that river is literally just waiting to be picked up. The trees aren’t being guarded by anyone. Why wouldn’t they come here and raid?”

She had to admit it made sense. “They used a spell,” she said. “It has something to do with… with light?” she shook her head. “I’m not sure, exactly. The… moons?” She shuddered. “There was something dark about it,” she explained. “Something of death.”

“Great,” Hiksti said sourly. “Blood magic that depends on the full moons to work. I bet you a hundred gold coins there’s a full moon back home right now, too.”

“That seems like a sound bit of magical logic,” Elsa agreed.

The two quickly got dressed while watching the ship. It came as close to the beach as it could without running aground, and the sails came down, then the anchor came out. “They’ll probably wait out the night on the ship,” he said. “And start to make land at dawn.” He touched her shoulder. “It’s time to defend Avalon.”

They stole quietly back to the camp, and Hiksti explained the situation to Panda. Elsa crawled into the tent and reached for the little girl’s hand. “Asta,” she said softly. “You must be quiet. The bad men are here.”

Asta awoke all at once and went rigid and stared at her with wide amber eyes. “The mist came?” she asked, her voice very small.

Hiksti nodded as he stretched. “It’s okay,” he told her. “We’ve got this.”

“But the dragons are not here, yet,” she whined. “They are going to kill us!”

“They won’t,” Elsa promised. “You need to stay here in this camp, far up in a tree, just like we practiced. You hide, and hide well until the danger has passed. Promise me.”

“I… promise,” Asta said, and she was sealed to that promise by Avalon’s magic. She grabbed a hard bread roll and an apple, her water canteen, and then scurried squirrel-like up the tallest tree in the camp. With her green and brown coloring she was camouflaged almost instantly.

“Panda, you know what to do, first,” Hiksti prompted. “I can’t come with you, for this. Are you ready?”

Panda nodded, then took off into the air, firing a plasma blast just before he cleared the tree tops, flying through it, and becoming invisible.

Elsa and Hiksti ran quickly toward the cliff. At a certain point they dropped to their stomachs and crawled the rest of the way to stay hidden, peeking toward the moonlit bay through a concealing bush.

Panda wasn’t quite able to make it to the ship before his scales cooled down and he became visible again, but a quick blast and he regained his stealth. Not quite quick enough, however, because a lookout on the ship shouted and started ringing a bell. In moments, men boiled up from the belly of the ship, shouting and looking around, carrying bows and arrows and crossbows. All of their looking was for naught, however, as a sudden plasma blast hit the ship dead-center at the water level.

The pirate ship immediately began to fill with water. Three more blasts hit the deck in rapid succession, and men screamed as they died while others jumped overboard into the bay. Perhaps sixty men made it off of the sinking ship and swam for the nearby shore. Behind the ones who escaped, the ship was on fire, and sank inexorably into the inky water.

Panda strafed the water again and again, taking out another ten men or so before one of the pirates made it to the beach and started firing arrows at him. He had to go into stealth mode again and retreat, and a minute later he landed behind them on the cliff-top.

“Great job, bud,” Hiksti said, making sure to give the dragon an affectionate scratch beneath his chin. “You stay out of sight, blast whoever you can. No matter what, don’t let them see you or they’ll shoot you. We’ll handle the rest of them from here.” Panda nodded and turned, and slipped into the woods.

Elsa watched him go until even his snowy white scales were lost in the gloom. “At least fifty men made it to the beach,” she told him. “We’ve got to start luring them up the ravine.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear,” Hiksti told her. He pulled her close and kissed her until she was breathless. “Remember, keep your distance.”

“I can’t promise,” she told him gently. “But I’ll try.”

He briefly closed his eyes, but had to accept it. With one final kiss he left her and melted into the trees.

Elsa found her designated spot and settled in to wait.

The men on the beach gathered together in a loose crowd, most of them facing outward and anxiously scanning the skies with their crossbows at the ready. With their ship gone, most of the men must have realized that they were stuck here in Avalon with no way home, in a land populated by dragons and fairies which had every reason to be hostile to them.

She waited until the sun came up, and then she started singing.

Elsa had a powerful voice, and even the rush of the river through the ravine wasn’t enough to cover it up.

It didn’t take long for the pirate’s curiosity to overcome them, and they followed the sound of her haunting voice up the ravine. Once they reached a certain point, she stopped her singing and held up her hand. “Stop,” she commanded. She had excellent English, with only the slightest accent.

It appeared as if they were all there, spread out on the east side of the little river, as the west bank was directly against the cliff wall. Their position left her no escape downstream.

“Not a fairy,” she heard one of them say to his companions. “A woman. A beautiful woman. All alone.” A few low chuckles escaped the men, but Elsa wasn’t afraid of them.

“Are you pirates?” she asked them.

Their leader took just one step forward. “You saw our ship, did you?”

“I did,” she affirmed. “I ask again, sir, are you pirates?”

“Well, that we are, there’s no denying.” He grinned at her. “But have no fear, miss, we wouldn’t harm a hair on your pretty little head.”

“Why have you come here?” she demanded.

“I reckon you can guess,” he bit out.

“To gather gold?” she asked. She glanced down at the river, where even now golden nuggets gleamed in the swift waters.

“Obviously,” he said. “That’s all we want, a bit of gold, and home again.”

“And the dragons?” she asked.

“What of them?” the man sneered.

“Do you hunt them?”

“Only when they show up,” he told her. “Dragon flesh sells for a premium. Worth more than its weight in gold.”

“The fairies, too?”

“Now those are rare,” he hissed. “Hard to find, but not too hard to kill. Are you a fairy? You haven’t got wings, your ears are round. You look human to me.”

“I am,” Elsa told him.

“So you’re a witch,” the man concluded.

“No,” Elsa said. “My name is Mrs. Haddock, and I have found you wanting. You are true villains. If you don’t leave now, only your doom awaits.”

The man tipped his head back and laughed heartily, and his men mostly joined him. Swords were drawn. “Call me Smith,” he introduced himself. “Our doom?” he chuckled. “I doubt it. You tell us how to get home again, see, and we’ll let you live, witch.”

“Back through the mist,” she told him. “Swim if you must, but leave here, and never return. This land is protected.”

“I don’t take orders from witches,” the man sneered. “We’ll take what we want, when we want. And right now… we’ll take you,” he promised. “Teach you a lesson or two, and make you show us the way home.”

Elsa’s resolve hardened. These men weren’t worth saving. “You will rue those words,” she told him. She turned and retreated, scrambling up the ravine over the wild, rocky terrain, around the tall evergreens. Smith gave a shout and he and his companions pursued her.

There was a very particular path to take, and Elsa leaped nimbly over a few tripwires. The pirates, being unaware of their existence, did not, and said wires were, in fact, tripped.

It was small, as far as rockslides go, but Elsa knew from first-hand experience how devastatingly effective falling rocks are against one’s mortality. The grinding, rumbling sound of them falling spiked her fear and she ran even faster, not wanting to die this way again. Once was enough.

Five men were taken out -- three died outright, one was half-pinned beneath a large boulder, and another just screamed and screamed at the bloody stumps where his legs used to be. He bled out quickly. The rockfall had distracted them long enough for Elsa to grab Panda’s dangling black tail and be hauled up into a depression, where they crouched behind a conveniently-placed bush.

“Was that you, Mrs. Haddock?” Smith bellowed, rage in his voice. “Did you cause those rocks to fall?” His voice bounced off the ravine walls.

“How could I cause the rocks to fall?” she called back, her own voice echoing from wall to wall.

“You must be a witch,” Smith yelled back. “Only witches can open doors to Avalon! Everyone knows that!”

“I’m not a witch!” she shouted.

“We’ll find you, you will show us to your door, and if you’re a good little girl we’ll give you a quick, clean death. It’s better than being burned at the stake!”

Elsa kept silent.

Warily, the men advanced up the ravine, crossbows raised and eyes darting to and fro.

Hiksti waited until there were quite a few of them in a good spot, and released the second booby trap. Huge logs embedded with sharpened stakes swung down and toward the men. Some of them managed to jump out of the way, but seven were hit, of which three were impaled. On the backswing their corpses left a gruesome, bloody trail. Just as the remaining men were recovering from that sight, two more logs swung down out of nowhere, and three more fell victim.

In rage, Smith slashed at the vine holding one of the logs aloft on one side, and managed to sever it. The weight of the swinging log was too much for the other side to handle and that vine snapped. The log flew helter-skelter off its course and brained another man.

There were now thirty-four pirates left, including Smith. They huddled together, eyes wide. “Fine, fine, you win! We just want to go home!” Smith shouted. “Cease your attacks, and we swear not to harm you!”

Elsa didn’t answer.

The pirates were rather stuck. Their path back toward the beach was blocked by the rockfall, unless they wanted to swim the river’s swift, deep course. None of them had tried that before, as the gold they always came here for could be had easily enough in knee-high water. Their only option was north along the bank, upriver. They realized this, and they weren’t eager to follow an apparent witch into more traps.

“I’m going for it,” one of the pirates said. “I’m a good swimmer.”

“Wait!” hissed Smith, but the pirate paid him no mind and jumped into the river.

“It’s not bad,” he called back to the others. “We should be --” but what he was going to say is any man’s guess, for he was swept beneath the rushing waters by the strong, fast current. He never resurfaced.

Elsa quietly clambered atop Panda and buckled herself to the saddle, and the dragon shot two quick plasma blasts at the pirates in the back of the group, killing several and prompting the rest to run for cover beneath the trees. A few of them tried to fire their arrows toward the source, but they hadn’t gotten a clear idea of his location. Right up until he jumped out and flew upward. A final plasma blast from him before he cleared the top of the cliff and landed well out of sight and danger. The final plasma blast ignited another booby trap.

Damp wads and bundles of poisonous leaves began to burn, letting off copious amounts of smoke which filled the bottom of the ravine. The rushing course of the river created its own little wind at the bottom of the cliffs, and hurried the noxious smoke straight toward the pirates.

The villains began choking and gagging, and tears welled up in their eyes as they flailed their arms in a vain attempt to fan away the smoke. While the smoke wasn’t terribly thick, it was terribly effective. More than a few pirates fell to their knees and retched and vomited.

It was while they were thus encumbered that Hiksti loosed his own arrows. In less than two seconds four men were dead, and he ducked behind his concealing boulder. He was situated in a very favorable location, high up and far away. Two tall boulders were only 17 or 18 centimeters apart, and left a natural archer’s window for him to take advantage of.

When no return arrows came his way, Hiksti chanced a peek and realized that the pirates were stumbling around so blindly that they hadn’t even noticed when a few of their number died. He quickly fired off a few more shots, getting three more before someone realized they were being fired upon.

Twenty-two pirates were left. They fought past the choking smoke and Smith viciously kicked the smoking bundles away and into the river, where they quickly sank out of sight. “Rrrrraaaaagh!” he roared. One of Hiksti’s arrows just missed him, and buried itself in a tree a scant inch past his ear. Smith ducked behind the tree, panting and counting his men. They were cowering just as he was.

“Piracy is generally frowned upon,” Hiksti said, letting his voice boom and echo from the cliffs around them. “So is threatening women and the murder of innocent people.”

“Who are you?!” came Smith’s startled voice.

“The witch's husband,” Hiksti drawled. “Protector of fairy orphans, defender of dragonkind, inventor extraordinaire… and your doom. Remember the doom bit? She did warn you.”

An arrow glanced off of the boulder to his left, and Hiksti knew his time was up. “Did you know that dragons are intelligent?” he asked loudly.

“What?” Smith called back.

“Oh, yeah, they’re smart. As smart as humans. More so, in some cases. Such as yours, I’m betting.”

“Come out and face me, Haddock, you coward!”

“Now, you see, there’s a difference between cowardice and cunning,” Hiksti lectured. “A coward would never have gone through the trouble of setting up all these booby traps. A coward would have just run back home and let you guys come and go as you pleased. But I’m not a coward.”

“You are!” Smith bellowed. “You will not fight me man-to-man!”

“Only because you have a score of evil henchmen invested in the idea of my death,” Hiksti said, his tone conversational. “It would be really stupid to face you. And I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.” He paused and shook his head, knowing Smith couldn’t see it. “No, no, I prefer to use my cunning to even the playing field, first.”

“You can’t kill us all, Haddock,” Smith said. “You and your witch are all alone out here.”

“But back to dragons being intelligent,” Hiksti said. “You’ll wanna pay attention to this, this part is important.”

“They’re dumb animals!” Smith protested. “Nothing more!”

“Wrong! So very, very wrong!” There was a smile in his voice that he hoped Smith could hear. A smiling enemy usually was a very bad thing. “Dragons can communicate with each other, and with people, to a point. They can understand us, and make themselves understood. Some of them can even draw, isn’t that fascinating?”

Smith scoffed, happy to play for time as his men edged closer and closer to Hiksti’s hiding spot. One of them had managed to start carefully scaling the wall, dagger in his teeth. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“The proof of dragons being able to communicate is already here,” Hiksti told him happily.

“There is no such proof!”

“Wrong again!” Hiksti said in a sing-song voice. “In fact, several days ago we sent a dragon friend for reinforcements. She’s taken longer than I’d hoped, but finally, she’s back.”

Immediately following his words, Dapple, a blue Dramillion, two Deadly Nadders, and a Monstrous Nightmare flew into firing range and began spitting fireballs at the pirates they could see hiding beneath the trees. The pirates began shooting arrows, but the speed of the dragons combined with the panic of the pirates to foul their aim, and none of the dragons were hit; pretty soon all of their arrows were spent. Panda had joined them within moments, neatly picking off the one climbing toward Hiksti, and in moments all but Smith and three of his fellows were dead.

Hiksti stepped out from behind his boulders and descended to the ravine floor. “Four against one,” he said. “I like those odds.” He drew his sword with his left hand and then used his right to beckon them forward.

Smith and his terrified companions raised their swords as one, and Smith screamed a battle-cry. They charged bravely across the terrain, making straight for Hiksti, intent on spilling his life’s blood. So intent were they that they didn’t even notice the leaf-covered pit until they were already falling into it. Gravity asserted her dominance and brought them slamming down onto the spikes lining the bottom.

“Well, that’s that,” Hiksti said, stepping to the edge and looking down at them as they died. “Justice served.”

Chapter Text

There were a lot of dead bodies in the ravine, and Hiksti took on the gruesome duty of disposing of them. With the dragons’ help he put a couple dozen of them into the pit and filled it in. Others he simply shoved into the river and let them be carried out to the bay to feed the fishes. A few were harder to recover, those pinned by boulders and enormous logs, but they eventually managed it.

Meanwhile Elsa had reunited with Dapple, who’d acted like an eager puppy upon seeing her. The two of them had gone back to the camp and called Asta down from the tree, and Elsa had endeavored to keep her busy until Hiksti could return.

Elsa was plaiting Asta’s long brown hair and humming softly while the child used a long stick to practice math in the dirt. “Now try five plus seven,” Elsa prompted.

Asta wrote 5 + 7 = and quickly scribbled 12. “This is easy,” she complained. “I want to learn something harder.” She tried to turn to look but was stopped by the plait in Elsa’s hands.

“Hold still,” Elsa admonished. “I’ll never finish braiding your hair if you keep wiggling!”

Asta sighed. “I wish you were my mother,” she said.

Elsa froze, feeling her heart squeeze. “Well… as much as I love you, I don’t think I can be,” she said gently.

Asta pouted. “Why not?” she asked.

“I’m not a fairy,” she said softly. “You’ll still be a child long after I’m dead and dust. You need a fairy to look after you. Someone to teach you the ways of your people and how to take pride in what you are.”

Asta’s pout turned into teary eyes. “But I can’t find any!” she wailed.

Elsa dropped the braid and slipped her arms around Asta’s shoulders, pulling the child to her and letting her cry. “We’re going to help,” she told her. “Now that the pirates are all gone, we’re going to find those fairies and get you back to them, okay?”

Asta cried for a while, but finally sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Okay,” she agreed. “When will Hiksti be back?”

“Soon,” she said. “He has to clean up the ravine, first.”

“Are all the pirates dead?”

Elsa nodded. “They are,” she assured her.

“Good,” Asta said stoutly. “I hated them. They were enemies. They were villains.”

“They were villains,” Elsa agreed. “But Asta… never be glad about killing someone. If you let that happen… you’ll lose who you are.”

The fairy was quiet for a long time, thinking about that. “Will more come?” Asta asked her, and Elsa was at a loss for words. Because there was every possibility that more could come, and she wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“I don’t know,” she finally had to answer. “I hope not.”

They prepared a meal for Hiksti, who finally made it back to camp after his gruesome work, looking absolutely exhausted. “What a day,” he groaned, and lay down on the ground with his arm under his head. “I’d like to sleep for about a week.” The dragons settled around them, their large scaly bodies providing such sure security that Elsa immediately felt safe.

“Eat something, my love,” Elsa urged him.

“We made you soup,” Asta chimed in. “Carrots and onions and trout.”

“Sounds great,” Hiksti said, his breath coming out in a long, tired sigh. He didn’t move for several minutes and Elsa almost thought that he’d fallen asleep. Finally he spoke up sleepily. “Tomorrow we’ll search for your people, Asta. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” Asta said quietly. “And sad, too.”

“We’ll miss you, too, kid,” Hiksti said. Then he sat up and gently tugged her braid. “Maybe we’ll try to come back and visit, from time to time, see how you’re doing.”

“I would like that,” she told him shyly.

While they ate, Elsa and Hiksti asked questions.

“Tell us about your people,” she prompted Asta.

The little green orphan finished chewing her carrot and tilted her head to the side. “They all look like me,” she said. “Green, and brown hair, and yellow eyes.” She paused. “Or sometimes orange eyes. Little ones like me do not have wings, but when I grow up, I will have them.”

“You’ll be able to fly?” Hiksti asked. “That’s great! I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“You can fly,” Asta said. “You and Panda.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as having your own wings,” he said. “Do your people fly a lot?”

“Not so high as dragons,” Asta said. “We fly amongst the trees where we live.”

“Do you farm?” Elsa asked. “Or gather and hunt and trap?”

“What is ‘farm’?”

“A farm is a place where you grow food on purpose,” Elsa explained. “And sometimes raise animals until they’re big enough to eat. As a verb, to farm means to grow food intentionally.”

Asta blinked at her. “But… there is enough to eat in the woods.”

“Even in the winter?” Elsa asked curiously.

“What is winter?”

Elsa and Hiksti exchanged a look. “It’s when the season changes. Instead of being hot all the time, the days get shorter and the nights get longer, and the wind starts to get cold. Eventually the rain turns to snow.”

“There is snow on the mountains,” Asta said. “I went with Mother and Father once to see it. But it never comes here.”

“Never, ever?” Elsa asked.

“It is… just always hot,” Asta told her.

“A land of perpetual summer,” Hiksti said. “Like the tropics.”

Elsa looked around her at the perfectly familiar evergreens and hardwoods. “These don’t look like tropical plants.”

“Well…” he looked at a loss. “Magical forest?” he suggested. “Because it’s Avalon?”

Elsa gave a thoughtful frown and nodded. “Let’s go with that,” she agreed.

“So,” Hiksti said. “Besides gathering food to eat, what do your people do?”

“We... sing!” Asta said. “We dance! We play music!” She bounced up and twirled around, arms upraised. “And we tell stories, also.” She wheeled around the fire. “We make things. Clothes and -- and blankets and dolls and…” she trailed off. “Sometimes we travel, to see what there is to see.”

“Where do you travel?” Elsa asked her.

“To the mountains,” Asta said, frowning. “To see the snow. And visit the dwarves.”

“Dwarves?” Hiksti asked, his eyebrows raising. “Why?”

“They make other things,” she told him. “Pots and pans and needles. We give them blankets and they give us knives.”

“Ahh,” Hiksti and Elsa both said.

“What?”

“Do you know the way to the mountains?” Elsa asked her. “Perhaps if we can find the dwarves, they can find your people for you.”

Asta tilted her head to one side. “We flew there,” she said. “Father carried me. It took many days and nights. But… fairies do not fly so fast as dragons do. I think I could remember the way, if I saw it from the air.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Hiksti decided. “Tomorrow at first light we’ll start the search.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When dawn broke the next morning they made short work of packing up the camp. Hiksti got on Panda and Elsa got onto Dapple. Asta was about to get on there with her when the Dramillions put her head in the way and made a croaking “wrawk” sound.

“Let me up!” Asta demanded. “We need to go.”

The Dramillion crouched down and tossed her head at her back.

“I think she wants you to ride her,” Hiksti suggested.

Asta pulled her arms closer to herself and straightened her back, pulling her chin toward her own neck. “Whaaaaaat?” she asked in clear disbelief. Her eyebrows were practically in her hairline.

“She likes you,” Elsa said with a smile.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Asta said, shaking her head. “I cannot ride a dragon all by myself!”

“Sure you can,” Hiksti told her. “I rode my first dragon when I was fifteen. And I trained a lot of kids younger than that to ride, too. Some of them were only knee-high.”

Asta looked unsure. “I do not have a saddle.”

“I’ll make you one,” Elsa said. “If you want.”

“Elsa,” Hiksti warned, but she shot him a Look, and he pressed his lips together and subsided.

The Dramillion croaked again and crouched a little lower.

Asta chewed on her lip for a moment, and the adults gave her time. But the Dramillion wasn’t so patient, and took to nuzzling against the little fairy and making soft “wrawk” noises. Finally Asta giggled and put her arms around the dragon’s neck. “Alright, if you really want to,” she said.

With a smile and a wave of her hand, Elsa made a saddle, and Hiksti hopped off of Panda and helped Asta into it.

Then they were off, and at first Hiksti led them in a wide, ever-expanding spiral. “See anything familiar?” he asked over the rush of the wind.

“First we went north along the river!” Asta said, and no sooner had she spoken than her Dramillion went that way. Panda and Dapple fell in behind her. “By and by there was another river going west!” she said. “A smaller one! There was a dead oak tree at the fork!”

In this manner they began to navigate their way west, and toward the end of the day they saw the mountains on the horizon, the haze of distance turning them purple, but they were capped with white snow. “We’ll make those by midmorning tomorrow,” Hiksti estimated. “And then we can start looking for fairies.

They made camp and had their meal. Hiksti told the story of how he met the King of Joseon and saved his life to earn a noble title and a fine house. Asta snuggled up against Elsa’s lap and sleepily looked at the fire. “Will you sing for me?” she asked in her little girl voice.

“Of course,” Elsa said. “Close your eyes.” She ran her pinky finger down Asta’s nose and the little orphan soon closed them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-_B1at-rb4 Norwegian Lullabye

When the song was done the child was fast asleep. Elsa carefully gathered Asta in her arms and brought her to the tent, and laid her down inside. When she backed out and closed the flap she looked over to see Hiksti giving her the most tender of smile, his eyes bright. He held out his hand to her, and she came to him.

He enfolded her in his arms and kissed her head. “You’ll make a wonderful mother,” he told her. “I just hope our children can sing like you.”

She snuggled against his chest and smiled happily. “Me, too,” she confessed, causing him to chuckle. “And I hope they have your creativity.”

“And your looks,” he added. “You’re way prettier than me.”

She giggled and looked up at him. “But you’re awfully pretty,” she contradicted him.

He batted his eyelashes and puckered up his lips and planted a kiss on her lips, and they laughed together. “I hope they’re magical,” he added.

Elsa was silent for a long time, and Hiksti felt the tension in her shoulders. “What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t want them to have powers,” she told him. “I just want them to be normal, and have a normal life.”

“Well… we should prepare for either scenario,” he said reasonably.

“Yes, I suppose,” she said, resigned to the possibility.

“C’mon,” he said. “We can sneak off and…” he waggled his eyebrows. “Hmm?”

She grinned up at him. “That sounds good,” she murmured.

He beamed at her and grabbed up his sleeping roll. “Guard the girl,” he told the dragons. The Dramillion gave him a look as if to say, Obviously. Dapple and Panda stayed where they were, curled up next to the fire. The rest of the dragons had left them earlier, bored with the relentless flight and probably eager to be back home with their Alpha.

They had their fun and enjoyed the golden after-glow, cleaned themselves up, and came back to camp within an hour. Then they slept and Elsa dreamed of dwarves under the mountain, taking a precious gem from her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

By mid-morning the next day they were circling over the mountains, and Asta was pointing excitedly toward the tallest, so high that its peak was crowned in wispy little clouds. “Snow!” she shrieked, and there was no way they couldn’t land and let her play in it.

It seemed like they spent hours there, heaving snowballs and building snow castles and snow-people. They made snow angels (Asta called them snow fairies) and fashioned an igloo, and all three of the dragons bounded around them and played and rolled and chased each other like so many puppies. It was so difficult for Elsa not to use her powers, but to soothe Hiksti’s worried looks she did it the old-fashioned way, using her hands to scoop and sculpt and play.

Finally, nearing lunch time, Hiksti called an end to the fun and they started to dust themselves off. Elsa shook the snow off of her skirt and glanced up to Hiksti and froze in place.

There was a dwarf standing there.

“Hiksti,” she warned.

Immediately her husband spun around, his hand near his sword, and the dragons were suddenly on high alert. Asta turned around, too, and then dashed behind Elsa only to peek around her skirt a moment later.

“Hello,” said the dwarf. “Who are you, what are you doing on this mountain, and why do you have a fairy child and three dragons in your company?”

He had no weapon in his hands, but those hands were large and meaty and looked strong enough to kill an ox with one blow. His short arms were massively muscled, leading to impressively wide shoulders. He had a thick torso and sturdy legs to support him, and though he was only four feet tall Elsa knew he was a formidable warrior. He had a well-groomed dark umber-colored beard with many braids with golden fasteners, and his hair was of equal length as his beard, reaching to his waist. The quality of his clothing was truly excellent, richly dyed and ornately embroidered.

“I’m Hiksti,” he said, keeping his hand away from his sword. He glanced around him and Elsa noticed that wherever he looked there were more dwarves making themselves known, and these were definitely holding weapons. “This is my wife, Elsa. The dragons are our friends. We found the little girl all alone, and we’re trying to get her back to her people.”

“I see,” said the dwarf. “I am Dramburr, King Under the Mountain. No fairies live here, Hiksti. This is our home, and we dwell beneath the granite mountainside. Forest fairies would find it hard to never see the sun and stretch their wings. You should be on your way.”

“Wait, please,” Elsa said, stepping forward. She tried to ignore the bows that were aimed in their direction, the spears that were held ready. “The child told us that her people used to trade with you. We were hoping that you know where they dwell, now. We just want to return her, safe and sound.”

“In the forest,” said Dramburr. He waved his hand at the trees carpeting the landscape far below them from one horizon to the next. “Try asking the elves.” He turned to go.

Asta dashed forward. “I know you, King Under the Mountain!” she cried. “You gave me rock candy, once.”

The king paused. He turned to look over his shoulder at her, and a thoughtful gleam entered his eye. “Is it you?” he asked, turning fully around to get a good look at her. “Are you the little thief who crept in and tried to take my sapphire?”

Asta ducked her head bashfully. “I did not know it was wrong,” she told him contritely.

“Where are your parents, little thief?” he asked.

“Dead,” she said. “Sons of Adam killed them. And then Hiksti and Elsa killed those Sons of Adam.” She clenched her little fist. “They got revenge for me. They have kept me safe. And you owe me a favor.”

The dwarves around them shifted and began to murmur, and Elsa stepped closer to Asta protectively.

“Why, you cheeky little thing,” the king said with a dangerous gleam in his eye. He took a step forward, and stopped only when Hiksti shuffled half a step to the side as if to put himself between the king and the orphan. The Night Lights crouched with their wings at the ready and the Dramillion crept forward with its head out and swaying slightly side-to-side.

“If you owe her, you have to repay,” Hiksti said. “This is the way of things.”

“Do not lecture me, human,” the king growled. “I know the way of things better than you.” His lip curled. “Call back your friends. I would not harm a child. Unlike you humans, I have honor.”

“Hiksti and Elsa have honor!” Asta said hotly. “You do not know anything about them!”

Hiksti raised his hand and made a short shoo-ing motion, and the dragons grumpily followed his lead and tried to look less threatening.

“I call in the debt,” Asta said loudly. “Help me find my people, King Under the Mountain, and the debt will be repaid.”

“Fine, then,” said the King. “It is a deal.”