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Lullabies can put you to sleep.
They can wake you up too.
Elsa shifts in her bed, which is much more weightless than what she's grown used to.
In fact, she's completely alone in the room. It's faint — the melody — surfacing clearer when it hits the higher notes.
She should be getting as much sleep as she can these days.
Elsa knows this, and gets up anyways. Following the tune — soft as the night itself —out the tent to where it leads, Elsa finds the source in the form of the figure standing back to her.
"Maren."She says.
"Elsa," the reply pulls out of her, surprised, "I didn't want to wake you."
"It's fine."
"It's just," Maren turns her attention back to the bundle in her arms, wrapped in a newly made Northuldran shawl. "Agna won't sleep."
Elsa steps closer, the thought of looking at her newborn daughter already filling her with bliss.
"She looks asleep now." Elsa whispers, caressing her baby's head with one finger, careful not to wake her.
"That's thanks to me and my cradle song abilities." Maren says, heading back to the tent with Elsa.
"Why do lullabies always have some terrible warning in them?" She asks, nostalgic of the very first time they met.
"I don't know." Elsa answers, knowing full well how scary it was to have so much love inside her for the first time.
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