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Blood.
There was so much of it.
Too much.
Honeymaren gasped. It strangled from her throat around a tight sob.
Her hands trembled, grasping futilely at the woman who’d crumbled to the ground with one last icy blast; eliminating the threat.
But, that didn’t matter to Honeymaren anymore. Not when her fingertips barely grasped the sleeve of Elsa’s dress to carefully turn her onto her back.
Her ivory dress was stained a dark red as blood gushed from the deep, open slash wounds that ran across from her shoulder and down to her waist. A trickle of blood dripped down from her hairline—likely from when she was knocked off her feet and slammed her head into a sharp rock.
The sight of her made Honeymaren release a strangled sob as she caressed Elsa’s soft cheek.
The Fifth Spirit’s eyes were squeezed shut. Her chest stuttered as she struggled to breathe; and, with every other breath, she coughed—blood trickling from her lips.
Honeymaren shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
“Why? Why would you. . .?” she sobbed, shifting her hand to cradle the back of Elsa’s head so she could lean down to press their foreheads together.
Her own tears dripped onto Elsa’s grimacing face, mixing with the blood that stained her friend’s skin.
Elsa’s eyes fluttered open.
Honeymaren pulled away, just enough to look down at her. She brushed the blood-stained tresses of blonde hair out of Elsa’s face as she stared down into the most beautiful eyes she’d ever known.
Her sky that now rained with tears.
Honeymaren’s heart clenched at the sight and she stifled another sob.
“B-Because I—“ Elsa coughed and squeezed her eyes shut, throwing her head back with a wheeze.
Honeymaren’s eyes widened and she surged to press both her hands on the wounds, applying pressure the best she could to stall the bleeding. A waterfall of tears trailed down her cheeks as she sobbed, muttering to Elsa incoherently.
Blood seeped between her fingers, staining her tanned hands red.
Honeymaren clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut when Elsa released a pained gasp followed by a wheezy whimper.
After a few minutes, even with Honeymaren applying pressure, Fifth Spirit’s eyes began to flutter closed. Her body began to relax within Honeymaren’s grip, breath weakening.
“No! No no no, Elsa! Open your eyes! Stay with me! You have to stay with me!” she yelled, voice desperate through the strangled sobs she stifled in her throat. Honeymaren wouldn’t give up on her. Not now. Not after everything they’d been through. She wouldn’t let this wonderful, amazing woman die in her arms.
Sucking in a breath, Honeymaren’s tears halted. With renewed focus, she unsheathed the knife from her belt and vigorously cut at the hem of her leather jacket. Clenching her teeth, Honeymaren tore the rest of it off—shortening her clothing up to her thighs, but she didn’t care—and wrapped it over the deep scratches across Elsa’s chests and stomach.
The leather instantly soaked up the blood. Honeymaren used both of her hands again and applied pressure.
Elsa groaned under her, but her eyes still didn’t open.
“C’mon Elsa, open your eyes. Please!” Honeymaren called to her, voice quivering desperately.
Elsa’s eyelashes fluttered a little. Honeymaren could see the peek of her icy-blue eyes beneath them.
A burst of hope made her breath catch and her heart skipped a beat.
“That’s it, Elsa. I’m here. Stay with me,” she whispered.
Keeping her hands on the bloodied fabric, Honeymaren leaned down to press her forehead to Elsa’s, their noses brushing. A flicker of relief washed over Honeymaren when she felt the coldness of Elsa’s breath.
She was still breathing. That was good.
But, for how long?
Honeymaren swallowed, closing her eyes. She pressed harder onto Elsa’s chest and stomach. The blood flow wasn’t stopping as quickly as she’d hoped.
She bit her lip. This wasn’t good. How long would her friend last?
Her heart jumped into her throat when she felt Elsa’s cold breaths grow weaker and more spaced out.
Honeymaren regretfully removed her forehead from Elsa’s and looked around, eyes wide and wild.
With her heart hammering in her chest, she knew they were too far from camp to get Elsa the proper treatment she needed; and there wasn’t much time.
So, she did the only other thing she knew she could do. And she prayed to the Spirits that someone or something would respond.
“HELP! Please!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the forest.
She waited a painful few seconds.
No response.
Tears streamed down her face. The hot, salty droplets melted the snow around them.
“HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE!” Honeymaren screamed louder. More than once until her voice was hoarse.
She looked back down at the woman in her arms. Elsa’s eyes began to flutter closed again. Honeymaren surged her hand forward to cradle her cheek, shaking her.
“No, Elsa please. Fight it! Stay awake! Please. . .” she choked, hooking her free arm beneath Elsa’s shoulders, she pressed her friend up against her chest. Honeymaren cradled her and rested her chin atop of Elsa’s soft, beautiful blonde hair.
The scent of fresh snow and lavender that she knew so well filled her nostrils and tore another sob from her throat. “You can’t leave me!”
Honeymaren held Elsa close, despite how the snow soaked through her pants and a brisk breeze blew her hat off her head. She closed her eyes, holding Elsa flush against her as she continued to apply pressure to the wounds beneath the blood-soaked leather.
“I can’t lose you,” she murmured against her hair, choking out a sob. “Not. . .not when this was all my fault.”
Honeymaren hung on to Elsa, paying close attention to the soft breaths against her skin; the only sign that her friend was still with her.
Not even a moment later, the ground shook beneath them.
Honeymaren’s eyes shot open and she gasped, holding onto Elsa tighter as the rumbling of the earth jostled them.
An Earth Giant parted through the trees with a grunt. It stared down at Honeymaren before focusing on the Fifth Spirit in her arms.
Honeymaren swallowed. The Earth Giants were unpredictable spirits, more so than Bruni. At least the skittish little salamander could be subdued without too much damage being done. There was no way to calm a rampaging Earth Giant.
As it stared at them a moment longer, Honeymaren’s heart dropped into her stomach as a wave of nausea and bile rose in her throat.
However, her eyes widened in surprise when the spirit knelt down and offered a rocky hand.
“What. . .?” Honeymaren breathed. Relief flooded through her being, but she still held Elsa close, keeping the pressure where it needed to be.
The Northuldran woman shook her head to force herself to let her guard down.
As carefully as she could, Honeymaren shifted Elsa onto her lap so she could hook an arm beneath her curled knees. She stood, cradling the Fifth Spirit bridal-style, and stepped onto the offered hand of the Earth Giant.
The spirit wasted no time. It lifted them off the ground, forcing an unprepared Honeymaren to fall to her knees. Yet, she still held onto Elsa, making sure no more harm would come to her.
Not as long as she was in Honeymaren’s arms.
The Earth Giant moved faster than usual and with purpose. It took Honeymaren a moment to realize it was giving them a ride to the river.
Wait, wouldn’t the river mostly be frozen by now? It’s Winter! Honeymaren thought, but bit her tongue. She’d asked for help and the Spirits responded.
Perhaps they knew what to do better than she could. She had no choice but to trust this Earth Giant.
Honeymaren never thought much of time, but with Elsa in her arms, as battered as she was, it felt like ages with each weakened breath the Fifth Spirit took before they arrived at the edge of the river.
The water spirit splashed out of the icy water as the Earth Giant lowered its hand; the tips of its rocky appendages dipped into the Nokk’s flank, creating a bridge for Honeymaren to scramble across.
Desperation hammered in her heart, beating hard enough in her chest that Honeymaren didn’t bother to wonder if the water spirit was solid enough for her to straddle. She did what she thought the Spirits wanted her to do.
Even if she couldn’t properly communicate with them, she knew it was for Elsa’s own sake.
To save the Fifth Spirit.
Honeymaren bit her lip and trembled as the ice-cold water on the Nokk’s back soaked through her thighs. She shook her head. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter.
Elsa was dying. A little cold won’t deter her.
Honeymaren was always a fighter; and now, she’ll fight for Elsa’s life.
No matter the cost.
Ignoring the shivers that ran through her body, Honeymaren situated Elsa in front of her with her limp legs hanging off the side of the water horse’s flank. The Northuldran woman shifted the Fifth Spirit’s upper body so their fronts were flush.
Pressure needed to be kept on those wounds and Honeymaren needed to be able to stay on the water horse while holding Elsa as close to her as possible.
She swallowed thickly, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes again when she noticed that Elsa’s eyes were closed. She brushed a couple of blonde tresses out of her friend’s face before cradling the back of her head until Elsa’s head rested on her shoulder.
At least this way Honeymaren could feel Elsa’s cold breaths along her neck. It was the only way she’d know that her dear friend was still alive.
Once they were situated, the Earth Giant backed off and Nokk wasted no time in galloping down the river and toward the Dark Sea.
At the jolt, though not unexpected, Honeymaren held Elsa closer to her—tighter. Her arm wrapped around her friend’s bloodied waist in a vice grip. One that Honeymaren thought should have made Elsa respond at the tightness of her hold; even a groan would suffice.
But, nothing came.
Elsa was out cold and that worried her.
A loud whistle caught her attention, which was followed by a circling and frigid breeze that carried both snowflakes and a blue salamander with it.
“Gale!” Honeymaren gasped, her fingers unconsciously digging into Elsa’s side.
The wind spirit gave a wail before depositing Bruni onto Honeymaren’s shoulder. The fire spirit trilled into her ear before skittering across her collar over to where Elsa’s unconscious head lay on Honeymaren’s shoulder.
He lowered his head and approached the Fifth Spirit cautiously. He blinked.
Then licked Elsa’s eyelid.
No response.
Bruni lifted his head.
He blinked again, then nudged her with his nose.
It was heartbreaking to watch. Honeymaren forced herself to look away and focus on the path ahead.
Bruni trilled again. It was low this time. Solemn.
In the corner of her eye, Honeymaren noticed him turn once, then twice on her shoulder before curling into a ball up against Elsa’s cheek.
She squeezed her eyes shut as her throat closed tight around a sob. A soft, warm tear trailed down her cheek. Honeymaren pursed her lips and ignored it by shaking her head and holding onto Elsa even tighter.
“We’re going to Ahtohallan, aren’t we?” she asked the spirits.
One of Nokk’s ears flickered back to her and he brayed in response while Gale circled them with a whistle. Bruni remained quiet, rooted in his place curled up against Elsa’s cheek.
Honeymaren bit her lip.
Just a little longer Elsa. Please, hang in there, she pleaded with tears pricking in her eyes.
Through the blurriness of her eyes, Honeymaren could just begin to make out the enchanting glacier of Ahtohallan in the distance. She’d never been there before and had only seen drawn pictures based on myth. Elsa would tell her all about it and how its magic was like none other they’ve—not even Elsa—had ever felt and witnessed.
A swell of hope rose in her chest. A ghost of a smile curled on her face. The Spirits will help. Ahtohallan will know what to do, that’s why the Spirits were helping her—right?
As they began to approach the glacial shores of Ahtohallan, Honeymaren tensed.
The reassuring coldness of Elsa’s breath on her skin halted.
Her breath hitched as Nokk pulled to a stop at the icy shore and knelt down.
Honeymaren’s hold tightened on Elsa as she scrambled off the water horse. She slid and tumbled to her knees, but held the Fifth Spirit flush to her with one hand as she broke her fall with the other.
Her fingers curled into the icy-snow; a ice-cold burning sensation traveled through her skin and she clenched her teeth. Her hand was numb within seconds and her entire body shivered.
Honeymaren didn’t care.
She hastily, yet carefully as possible, laid Elsa on the ground.
Her skin was pale. Almost taking on a pallor of ash.
“No. . .no, Elsa! You can’t do this to me. Not now!” she screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks. She shifted to her dying friend’s side, sitting on her knees as she loomed over the Fifth Spirit and pressed her hands to the woman’s chest.
She pumped once, twice, three times before moving to pinch Elsa’s nose and carefully pried her mouth open to press their lips together and blow.
Once, twice, then three times.
When no response came, Honeymaren became desperate. Her cries echoed off the icy walls of the watchful glacier as she continued to pump and breathe into Elsa.
“Come on. Come on, please! We need you, Elsa. You can’t die on us. You can’t die on me. I need you!” she cried, voice raw. Her heart raced in her chest as another hoarse cry ripped from her throat.
Yet, she didn’t give up.
She would never give up on Elsa.
She continued another round. Then another. And another.
She didn’t care how numb her hands were or how deathly cold she was.
She didn’t even care how hard her now-blue lips trembled as she connected them to Elsa’s once more to breathe into her.
Again.
And again.
Honeymaren paused to press her ear to the Fifth Spirit’s chest, hopeful to hear even a small flutter of a heartbeat.
Nothing.
Elsa was quiet by nature, but it was different and heartbreaking to hear nothing but a deathly cold silence.
A silence that constricted Honeymaren’s chest as a cascade of hot tears scorched her numbing cheeks.
She sat in the silence, staring down at the unmoving woman beneath her, defeated.
The ashen pallor replaced Elsa’s normal bright, yet occasionally flushed, glowing skin only made Honeymaren sob harder.
Elsa was gone.
A raw scream erupted from deep within her aching chest.
Why? Why did Elsa need to pay for her own stupidity? It should be her in the Fifth Spirit’s place! Yet, Elsa. . .she protected her.
Why?
A sudden surge of anger raced through Honeymaren’s gut and she shot up to her feet, glaring at the three Spirits that accompanied her.
“I thought we were taking her here to save her?! Why did you bring me here if you knew. . . if you knew she would die?! To bury her here?!” she screamed at them, trying to pull at her hair, but her numb fingers wouldn’t obey.
It was too cold here.
If she didn’t find warmth, she’d freeze to death.
In Ahtohallan.
A mirthless chuckle spilled from her lips.
What should she have expected? Her life was always a nightmare. She’d grown up trapped within a magical mist, was orphaned at a young age with her twin brother, and had to find her own way even under the guise of Yelena’s harsh guidance with the expectations of being the future leader of the Northuldra. But the second she found happiness? The second she felt truly free with a woman, a friend, a. . .her lo—the Fifth Spirit of all things, she was ripped away from her.
Life was truly cruel.
Honeymaren dropped her head. She wiped at the trailing tears and sniffed.
Gale circled her.
Bruni trilled and rubbed up against her leg before crawling up her pants until he found her shoulder. He situated himself comfortably, rubbing up against her cheek before he pulled away to light a small fire; careful not to catch Honeymaren’s clothing or hair on fire.
As small as the magical flame was, the warmth was enough.
Yet, Honeymaren couldn’t find it in herself to smile or thank him.
Nokk brayed and splashed the freezing water beneath his hooves and onto the ice as he nodded toward the entrance to Ahtohallan.
Honeymaren frowned, following his glowing gaze. She stared at the ominous entrance for a few minutes. Her shivering lessened as Bruni kept his harmless flame going, but her fingers still felt numb.
Her heart was numb.
With a thick swallow, Honeymaren turned back to the water spirit and was about to ask him why he couldn’t just guide her, but realized that the Nokk couldn’t walk on land without Elsa. He was bound to the water without her.
As if reading her mind, the water horse bowed his head mournfully—ears flattening back.
Honeymaren held back another wave of tears and squared her shoulders, just like she’d seen Elsa do whenever she had to compose herself.
The Spirits were mourning just as much as she was.
Honeymaren wasn’t alone in this.
Gale circled her again before hovering over Elsa’s lifeless body.
Honeymaren mindlessly followed, crouching beside the Fifth Spirit.
She stared down at the angelic face she’d come to love. Her heart clenched at the sight of the lack of color in Elsa’s face; the flush from her cheeks was gone and the subtle flushed glow of her body had turned to an ashen color.
Honeymaren held back a wail when she noticed a peek of lifeless, ice-blue eyes—the ones that always reminded her of the sky—beneath hooded eyelids.
With numb, trembling hands, she gently closed Elsa’s eyes. Her fingers then trailed the length of her impossibly cold cheek before she paused to brush a few strands of soft, blonde hair from her friend’s face.
With dry, numb, and shaking lips, she placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Honeymaren lingered for a moment, wondering what her life would be like right now if she’d never stubbornly gone out on her own earlier.
Would Elsa be alive right now? Would they be sharing dinner by a campfire and laughing at Bruni’s or Gale’s antics? How flushed would Elsa’s cheeks be from both the warmth of the fire and her natural skin-tone? Would her eyes be sparkling like the night sky above them or would Honeymaren be catching the flying embers in the reflection of the ethereal blue in those irises instead?
Honeymaren’s throat closed tight around another sob and she shook her head from those thoughts.
It was her fault Elsa was dead anyway. She’ll carry this guilt until the day she dies.
Or. . .maybe that’s why the Spirits brought her here? To punish her for her selfishness and getting the Fifth Spirit killed? That seemed more likely; the frigidness of the glacier was beginning to creep through her clothes.
Honeymaren wondered if she would succumb to the arctic coldness the moment she entered Ahtohallan. Deep down, she had a feeling once she entered, she wouldn’t come out.
Somehow that scenario didn’t seem so bad to her.
With one last look at Elsa, Honeymaren carefully scooped her into her arms.
She marveled at how light the woman was despite the dead weight.
She shifted on her feet and looked to the wind spirit for guidance.
“Lead the way, please?” she whispered. Her eyes stared straight ahead for she knew if she looked down at the woman in her arms, she’d break.
Gale whirled around her before disappearing into the cavern.
Honeymaren closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lifting her head to the cloudy sky.
Then, with solid steps, despite how she couldn’t feel her feet, she followed.
Ahtohallan was much colder on the inside than she expected. It was also dark and deathly quiet, much like the Fifth Spirit in her arms.
Honeymaren ignored the shivers of her body, despite the warmth of the fire spirit on her shoulder. Her gaze hardened as she followed Gale through each glacial tunnel, making it her duty to carry out whatever burial ritual the Spirits entrusted her to do.
It was ironic, really. Honeymaren had always dreamed of going to Ahtohallan after all the magical stories Elsa would tell her, but she never expected her visit to be this bleak and non-magical. She couldn’t even find it in herself to pause and admire the novelty of its structures and glacial architectures.
Ahtohallan was nothing but a burial ground for the Fifth Spirit—for Elsa—to her now.
Honeymaren hadn’t realized she’d been following mindlessly, allowing the grief to overcome her head space, until she halted at a ledge with a gasp.
Taking a step back, she held Elsa closer to her, cradling her hands into the gentle blonde waves as she pressed her friend’s face into her chest; as if to protect her.
Even when there was nothing left of Elsa to protect.
Honeymaren’s brown eyes darted around the vast expanse of the dark cavern. All she could see ahead of her was icy pillars that led to another tunnel. She’d traveled all this way on ice without so much as a slip, but to leap from one ice pillar to another? She was bound to fall to her own death and fail to give Elsa the burial she deserved.
Biting her lip, she heard Gale whistle back over to her.
“I can’t leap on these. How am I supposed to get to the other side?!” she asked with a nervous shrill. She took another step back.
However, the wind spirit had other ideas.
Honeymaren screeched, her voice bouncing off the icy walls of Ahtohallan, as Gale lifted her off her feet and began to float her over to the other side.
Honeymaren squeezed her eyes shut, held onto Elsa tighter, and curled her legs up as she buried her nose into the blonde tresses of her friend’s hair.
It still smelled like lavender and fresh snow, with a tinge of campfire smoke.
It was both a relief and a curse.
Honeymaren wanted to sob again at the realization that these familiar scents were all that was left of Elsa.
Bruni chittered and nudged at Honeymaren’s jawline as Gale began to descend them back onto the ice.
Honeymaren swallowed over the lump in her throat, composed herself again, and uncurled her legs to allow for a gentle landing.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the wind spirit.
Gale whistled in response and energetically made a small whirlwind around her, knocking her hat off her head.
“Hey!” Honeymaren gasped, but the wind spirit had managed to make a ghost of a smile curl along her lips. She watched as Gale carefully picked up her hat again and placed it securely on her head. “Uh. . .thanks,” she replied, unsure of how to act. It wasn’t normal for her to interact with the Spirits so intensely before.
The idea would fill her with joy if it weren’t for the dreary circumstances that led to these interactions.
Honeymaren turned to face the tunnel. She took a deep breath, then followed its trail.
Based on her perception of the fire and wind spirits sudden energy, they were near the end.
Or, at least she sure hoped they were.
Honeymaren wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on. Her limbs were numb and she was beginning to feel both the journey and the frigidness of Ahtohallan weight down on her. The cloud of her breath was beginning to haunt her.
She was so tired. The thought of curling up and falling asleep became all the more enticing as Gale led her into a wide room.
The walls of ice were clear as crystal.
Honeymaren’s jaw dropped in awe at the magnificent display around her. They were like mirrors.
A trill on her shoulder from Bruni caught her attention and when she turned her head to look at him, he bounded off her shoulder and scrambled to a large, yet faint snowflake in the middle of the room.
Honeymaren recognized it immediately as the unity snowflake Elsa told her about. The four elements surrounded a diamond-like shape in the middle where Bruni paused to look back at her expectantly.
Honeymaren held onto Elsa tighter. The Spirits wanted her to lay her friend there.
Forever.
She hesitated.
What would happen to Elsa if she did?
Honeymaren dreaded the answer, but knew she had no choice. She’d come so far and it would be ridiculous to turn back now. Even if she did, would she anger the Spirits?
She couldn’t risk that. She couldn’t tempt fate and allow for her people to suffer for her selfishness.
Elsa was already a casualty of it.
With her mind made up, Honeymaren tread carefully toward the space Bruni was beckoning her to. Once there, she knelt on her knees, ignoring the overwhelming chill in her bones and the heaviness in her eyes.
It was then that she finally let go of Elsa and gently laid her in the middle as Bruni leaped away to watch from a distance.
Honeymaren sniffled, biting her lip as she arranged her friend—the Fifth Spirit—onto her back, and carefully folded Elsa’s hands at her waist.
The sight of her blood-stained, ivory dress made Honeymaren break.
It started as a lone tear. Then, a hot flood rushed down her cheeks. Her chest stuttered with raw sobs and her lips trembled. She could taste the salt of her own tears in her mouth, but she didn’t care.
Elsa was dead and it was all her fault.
As this realization sank into her being, Honeymaren leaned back and released a heart shattering scream that echoed throughout every cavern in Ahtohallan.
Her misery, guilt, and grief bounced back at her from within the glacier. For a moment, she wondered if it was mocking her.
Hot anger pulsed within her chest and she clenched her teeth.
“If you’re so magical, then tell me why this happened?! Tell me why you allowed her to die like this?! I was trying to bring her back to life on your shores! Why wouldn’t you let me heal her?!” Honeymaren screamed, her voice hoarse and raw.
Through her own heavy breaths, she listened for a few minutes, waiting for a response.
She was far from surprised when there was none.
“Only Ahtohallan knows, my ass,” she muttered under her breath mockingly, wiping at her eyes with the leather of her sleeve.
As if hearing her shit-talk, the room lit up with an eerie yet mystical glow and Honeymaren could hear her own voice. It was muffled at first and she frowned, eyes darting to find the source. Her heart hammered in her chest and she could hear her own pulse; the blood rushed through her ears.
Through the fog of her shallow breaths, she spotted images within the ice across from her.
Honeymaren squinted and stood slowly.
“Elsa! What are you doing?!”
She could hear herself yell clear as day now. It was then that knew exactly what Ahtohallan was showing her, yet she couldn’t force herself to look away.
Transfixed on the scene playing out before her, Honeymaren watched with bated breath knowing how this would play out. The adrenaline she felt in that moment rushed through her body once more—as if she were there again. She felt nothing but dread.
Going through the trauma once wasn’t enough was it? Ahtohallan had to show her and punish her for her mistake; to reiterate why Honeymaren was here in the first place and why Elsa was dead.
Elsa skidded in front of Honeymaren, who had backed up against a tree with her staff held out in front of her.
Her own eyes were wide with both panic and shock.
With a quick icy blast, Elsa froze the bear’s paws to the ground, halting its charge. She turned to Honeymaren and hastily grasped her by the arm.
“Why is there a bear out of its hibernation in Winter?!” she questioned, but shook her head. "We need to go, now!” Elsa commanded, moving to sprint.
Honeymaren grounded herself in place to hold Elsa back.
“What?! No, we can’t run back to camp! It’ll follow us there once it breaks free and we’ll put everyone in danger! Elsa, please listen to me, we can’t run from a bear!" she screamed, trying to get through to her friend.
Elsa opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of ice cracking cut her off. The Fifth Spirit’s gaze snapped to the large brown bear as its massive paws splintered through her ice in seconds.
Honeymaren watched the scene with dread, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as tears began to cascade down her cheeks once more. She wanted to look away so desperately but couldn’t. It was though Ahtohallan’s magic held her in place, forcing her to watch.
The bear roared with renewed anger, tossing its head before it charged again. Neither of the women had enough time to react.
Elsa pushed Honeymaren away, who landed in the snow on her side as the bear swung a large paw, battering through the quick shield of ice Elsa had created.
The force of it flung the Fifth Spirit backward, cracking the side of her head on a boulder.
“Elsa!” Honeymaren screamed, reaching out with a hand. She scrambled to her feet, sliding on the snow with a curse as she tried to get to her vulnerable friend. Her staff was too far for her to grab, but she hoped to create a diversion long enough for Elsa to reorient herself.
It didn’t matter though, no amount of waving her arms or shouting could deter the brown bear from its vulnerable prey.
In the freezing room of memories in Ahtohallan, Honeymaren shivered vigorously. Her lips trembled and her teeth chattered as she hugged herself. But the tears never stopped as she was forced to watch the scene unfold again.
As Elsa groaned and attempted to gather herself, despite the blood that trickled down from her hairline, the bear was already on her.
Honeymaren heard herself scream for her. At the bear.
As she watched sharp claws slash across Elsa’s body, from shoulder to waist, Honeymaren fell to her knees. She was so numb and distraught that she felt no pain upon impact with the ice.
Elsa’s blood-curdling scream of pain echoed throughout the cavern and Honeymaren covered her ears with shivering hands.
She let out a wail, which sounded muffled through her covered ears, as Elsa released one last icy blast that shot the bear back at least a couple feet away before it fell over, turning the bear into an ice statue.
Ahtohallan faded out the memory the moment Honeymaren raced to Elsa.
Honeymaren stayed on her knees. The room was deathly quiet except for her painful sobs.
It felt like hours. She couldn’t tell. In Ahtohallan, there was no sense of time—as she came to realize.
Honeymaren could only register her own misery and grief.
The Fifth Spirit was dead because of her.
She should have listened. They should have run. At least then, they would have had a chance—Elsa would have had a chance.
With a thick swallow, Honeymaren’s sobs calmed to sniffles.
Her entire body felt numb as the frigidness of Ahtohallan chipped away at her. Fatigue filled every inch of her body. With heavy eyes and shallow breaths, she fell to her elbows and crawled to where Elsa lay.
At least she looks peaceful now, Honeymaren mused to herself as she looked down at the beautiful woman she’d come to know and love.
It didn’t make her feel any better.
As she leaned over to rearrange Elsa’s hair out of her face and along the ice in a more elegant manner, a lone tear dropped from beneath Honeymaren’s chin and landed on Elsa’s cold cheek.
It froze into a beautiful crystalline teardrop.
It’s sparkle drew Honeymaren’s gaze back to Elsa’s face and, with a shivering hand, she caressed the opposite cheek and closed her eyes before pressing their foreheads together.
“I love you,” she choked out, sucking in a breath to hold in another sob.
The silence was suffocating.
It was then that Honeymaren resigned to her fate—she didn’t have the strength to leave Ahtohallan.
As she kept her forehead pressed to Elsa’s for a few more minutes, a heat she never felt before filled her being.
Honeymaren opened her eyes and gasped.
Gale swirled around them in delight and Bruni trilled with excitement.
The unity snowflake beneath them had lit up and Elsa’s body began to ascend, just slightly, from Honeymaren’s arms.
She watched in awe, her eyes following the ethereal display of the Fifth Spirit’s blonde hair floating around her like a halo.
The Northuldran joik, the one Honeymaren remembered chanting with her people once the sisters found out about their Northuldran heritage, filled the room and bounced off the glacial walls and pillars in an enchanting and melodic echo.
A warm smile and a giddy laugh escaped Honeymaren as she watched Ahtohallan come to life for the first time around her.
All of the memories of herself with Elsa were on display, muted by the joik, but filled Honeymaren with such love and warmth that nothing could bring her down from this high.
The warm magic ebbed away at her numb body and she began to feel her limbs again.
Once the chant faded out, Elsa’s body arched and she released a long gasp—as though her soul reunited with her lungs and mind.
Honeymaren released a soft gasp and caught the Fifth Spirit in her arms before carefully lowering them both to the ground.
Elsa coughed, trembling in Honeymaren’s arms.
The blood was still there, but the flow had stopped.
Honeymaren could care less at how it stained her as she held the woman she loved.
“Elsa?” she called softly. There was a small tremor in her voice, fearing this was a dream or that she was hallucinating.
Elsa was still in her arms for a few moments, but she took another deep breath before opening her eyes.
Those beautiful blue eyes that reminded Honeymaren of the sky, the ocean, and the sparkling of the stars stared up at her.
“Honeymaren?” Elsa responded, though her voice was weak and hoarse. She blinked before reaching up to cup Honeymaren’s cheek.
Honeymaren leaned into the touch, marveling at how warm Elsa’s hands were.
Were they ever this warm? How could she have never noticed?
“E-Elsa,” Honeymaren choked, eyes widening. Then, a smile bloomed along her face. “You’re alive! Y-You’re. . .” she trailed off as a rush of tears overwhelmed her and flowed down her cheeks again.
Spirits, only Elsa could make Honeymaren cry this much in one day.
Elsa remained quiet, but traced circles on Honeymaren’s wet cheek, catching the tears as they fell with her thumb.
“I love you,” Honeymaren gasped out, chest heaving. Her heart ached with the overwhelming emotion. She didn’t stop to wonder if her feelings were returned.
She wanted to kiss Elsa. To make sure she was alive. For good.
Elsa paused.
“You love me?” she whispered.
Honeymaren noticed the wavering shine of her eyes as she stared into them. She covered Elsa’s hand with her own and nodded.
Elsa gasped softly, then smiled.
“I love you too. That’s why I—“
She was cut off as Honeymaren lifted her into her lap, cradling her by the nape of her neck as she united their lips in a tentative, yet passionate kiss.
A few moments later, Elsa was the first to pull away.
She stared up at Honeymaren with such sadness and love that made her want to cry all over again.
“I couldn’t let you die. Not when I knew I could protect you,” Elsa whispered, closing her eyes to rest her head against Honeymaren’s shoulder.
Honeymaren squeezed her eyes shut and held Elsa tighter against her.
This was real. Elsa was alive.
Elsa loved her.
“You stubborn idiot,” she scolded in a whisper, but it only made Elsa laugh lightly against her. “I’m the one who should be protecting you. You’re the Fifth Spirit.”
Elsa shook her head, but didn’t retort like Honeymaren thought she would. Instead, she allowed Honeymaren to keep cradling her.
“Love makes us do crazy things, Fifth Spirit or not,” Elsa finally whispered against her.
When their eyes met again so did their lips; and, this time, Honeymaren wasn’t letting her go.
Spirits, bless this happiness they’ve found.