Archive of Our Own

Someone had their eyes on Cassandra.

It was a feeling she’d grown accustomed to from a life on the road. How many times had she spotted a revered looks of awe at the vigilante who came into town looking to take down the local mob boss that was swindling the people... Or the deeply confused, and slightly troubled stares at the ranger who just emerged from the underbrush only to reveal she’d been rouging it through the wilderness for the last two weeks, with no companions, save for an owl and her horse.

Which was still nothing to scoff at, in her mind

As long as Cassandra could reach civilization to restock supplies and find work, and a bath, onlookers held no sway on her... especially if she rode into town with a wanted criminal or two hogtied on the back of her horse, her head held high.

That was the key. Acting with good intent. Slowly but surely righting as many wrongs as it took to feel like she deserved to hold her head high. It was as good a plan as any.

Until then, she continued adrift, one direction to the next. Following scant rumours and tips of trouble on the horizon. From small farming villages, to even the capital of Ingvarr, with plenty of stops in the wilds of the world in between.

Mercifully. All those trips through the wilderness were like pockets of air in between the waves of eyes and whispers she drowned in.

But no sense in letting it bother her.

No sense in letting others see that it bothered her.

This feeling of being watched started from the moment she rode into the township of Starrvik – some charming logging community, crammed between forests and mountains. Shame it was small, but... it’s hard to keep anything resembling a low profile when riding astride the back of a draft horse, with furred cloak pulled over her head, and a dueling sword swaying in its sheath by her waist.

Out of the deep, gnarled forests around Corona, across the sea, and into the sparser, reds and white trees of the northern kingdoms; this was the furthest she’d ventured yet. At least, that’s what they seemed like under the fresh layers of snow. Everything out here shared that snow-capped look. Fatigue chewed at Cassandra, cold nestled in her joints.

Yet a brief smile alighted her lips, she could almost hear a certain someone complaining about the weather on the wind that pushed her curling hair back.

Going further south had been an option Cassandra considered, but this was a special trip, one Cassandra was determined to see through. No matter the cost or hassle.

After all, it was Rapunzel’s idea.

And... she always did want to see Arendelle, someday. Such a faraway land, another realm, in a sense. Only existing in hushed words of nobles and dusty tomes.

The letter from her princess detailing that idea was folded neatly into a breast pocket over Cassandra’s heart, for safe keeping while she marched through the usual motions; general store, food, water, supplies for Fidella, and for her. No resting if she wanted to make good headway before nightfall, but she always made sure to tip a gold piece or two.

The feeling of eyes on her persisted as she was told passage through town wouldn’t be possible. Thanks to a surprise avalanche, the best route to Arendelle was closed. Too unsafe for foot traffic, man or horse.

To say it was... less than ideal would be downplaying the invisible crisis that information flung Cassandra into. She was so close, and now she was being forced to turn around?

Or at least that was the case before her obvious disappointment evoked another option.

Seems like every kingdom was vying to become the next great innovator. News of Corona’s new hot water system had spread faster than... well, the water itself (which was fast, hot, and only occasionally volatile, or so she heard). Inventors were popping up all over, determined to make “the next step” or whatever it was the nerds talked about. Cassandra didn’t exactly listen.

But that just meant she could hear the good news now; several months earlier, the final set of tracks had been laid down from the northern region, stretching all the way to Arendelle – tracks for one of the more fascinating innovations in recent decades: a brand new railway system that would move... everything in and out of the kingdom, straight from the capital.

Goods, supplies, people. And it was coming by today.

And this was the last stop before the capital.

What followed was a blur of an hour; rushing to the train station, purchasing a ticket, arguing with the attendants about letting an owl onto the train with her, and finally relenting when it was decided Owl would ride in one of the animal cars with Fidella as company.

Standing there on the platform, surrounded by other passengers waiting to board, and Cass couldn’t feel more alone. Even her companions at her side seemed to sense her trouble. Fidella tugged gently on the reigns in Cassandra’s fist, pulling her closer.

“I’m fine,” she had managed with a pat to her horse’s side. Mostly true.

A group of figures in hoods, their faces obscured, harshly pushed past Cassandra, lost in their own interaction. She wasn’t worth the space she inhabited. Better to just let them go.

She tugged the hood of her cloak taut around her face. “Wish I could say the same for everyone else.”

There it was again; eyes, on her. She feigned interest in something in the distance to look to her right, then left. Nothing. People too caught up in their own little worlds to think about someone like her. Or very good at acting like it.

Cassandra’s anxiety rose; not suddenly, but like a set of clamps, slowly squeezing her chest; her lungs already numb from the chill. She thought she could hear her heart thundering in her ears before she came to realize that everyone else could feel that too.

The train was here.

As far as potentially deathtraps went, Cassandra concluded that trains were rather impressive. The one pulling into the station now was a beast; cast in iron, belching smoke and steam like some sort of mechanical dragon. Beautiful, though, in a way; clearly some kind of new model. But it had nothing on the passenger cars. They were intricate; wooden-made, and detailed with the olive drabs, gold, and purples of Arendelle’s flag.

Cassandra hardly had a moment to think before being swept up in a crowd that wasted no time in loading into the cars. All the pushing and shoving... she had never been claustrophobic before but if there was ever a time to start then she hoped it would be after she’d found a seat to hunker down in.

Preferably with a window.

Now, about eight minutes out from the station (but who was keeping count? She was) Cassandra was minding her own business and yet found herself, yet again, feeling as if she was in someone’s cross hairs.

She felt it in the way the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, like a chill had passed through her leather tunic; she was being watched. Any good warrior worth their weight could sense eyes on them even while their focus remained on something else. A little tingle of goosebumps could mean the difference between a surprise attack and a successful counter.

But there was a time and place for both; neither of which were here, in the middle of a tightly packed passenger car. So, Cassandra internally weighed the options of ignoring the lack of threat to keep watching the rapidly moving landscape outside her window, or open herself up to a stranger.

Neither one was particularly inviting. She should’ve brought a book.

“Pardon me... but, is this seat taken?”

It was a woman’s voice, but Cassandra stubbornly refused to turn her head. She referred to the seat opposite Cass, empty despite the earlier rush to get aboard. Some part of her wondered whether no one had taken it deliberately.

Then, she breathed out, and realized there were more open seats than she first assumed.

So, then...Why this one?

All the same, a question like that was much nicer than a blade aimed at her, or an insult. More ways to deal with it, too.

Either way, the sword at Cass’s side was plainly obvious. The knife in her boot slightly less so.

“Nope. Go right ahead.” Cassandra waved off any concern with her hand, attempting to remain aloof and distance herself from this conversation. Difficult seeing as they were four feet apart.

“Thank you,” The voice simply responded. Though Cassandra didn’t turn, her peripheral filled with white; like the frost-tipped winter wonderland darting past her window.

Eyes. Still there. Watching with obviously some sort of interest.

What was it? Who? Cassandra weighed her options again. Surely no hitmen had followed her. The last time she’d rounded up any crooks was at least two towns ago, and she’d triple-checked to see if anyone was following her before she’d boarded the train. At least... she tried to.

Did she screw up?

Cassandra had hoped that this ride would go smoothly, with no accidents or altercations, though that was starting to seem less and less likely by the second.

Now, she was letting it bother her.

Here she was, feeling like the ceiling was coming down and letting her stomach twist itself into a knot at the mere act of someone sitting across from her. Nobody had treated her badly thus far.

Then again, no one had spoken to her since she got onboard. But word of mouth travelled fast.

As did old wanted posters.

The knot in Cass’s stomach was hardly calmed by the silence she was slowly stewing in.

She finally faced her new companion... and found an ocean of blue staring back at her.

It was a woman around her age. Fair-skinned, at least as far as Cassandra could tell by her face. She too had a hood on; fur-lined and simple, just like the outfits everyone around them were bundled up in. And yet... something about her face didn’t match the clothes.

Something about her eyes. Cass felt herself almost drawn to them. Why? What about them was striking her with a feeling of sereneness, but strength all the same; like a glacier, deep and blue and somewhat...

Stop it. She fights the urge to bite down on her own tongue as retaliation. This was no time to get lost in the eyes of yet another fair maiden. Just like the last time. And the time before that, and... Ugh.

Clearly she had spent far too long out in the wilderness, staring at trees and ice. Just like she was.... doing right now. Now she was seeing winter in a person’s eyes.

“...Can I help you?” Cassandra started after a few seconds. She chose to temper her suspicions for the moment, and feigning a light tone that bellied the trembling in her throat. To her credit, the passenger seemed to buy it, seemingly shaken out of a haze by the question. Blinking once, clearing her throat.

“...Ah. I’m sorry. The countryside. It’s pretty this time of year, isn’t it?”

She gestured with a slim hand to the window Cass had glued her gaze to, for what she hoped would be the entirety of this trip. Getting a lay of the land would definitely be harder from the inside of a moving train, no doubt if she tried to ride out of Arendelle on Fidella.

It was a bluff to draw attention away. But, at the same time, it was true.

“It is,” Cass remarked. “I would have liked to have been here in the summer.” A shame that she was busy in Pittsford at the time.

The woman continued, fiddling in the meanwhile with a plain, leather satchel that hung from her shoulder on a strap. “It’s amazing. All the reds and greens of the trees, mixing with the snow from the mountains. It’s a gorgeous sight. Sometimes, it’s even better than the capital.”

“You’ve been to Arendelle?”

“On one occasion,” she admitted as the short smile vanished from her lips.

“Do you occasionally stare at strangers, too?”

Caught in the act, red-handed. The woman’s mouth hung open, searching for words. Cassandra frowned, “You were doing a lot of that just now.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she began again, reaching up to fiddle with some stray blonde locks that poked out from her hood. Almost as white as the snow outside. “I wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was I?”

“Yes.”

Blunt. Like the back end of a carriage crashing into a flower stand. Trampling over flowery words.

“Oh.” Cassandra’s stranger swallowed, seemingly unable to look Cassandra in the eyes at all for a few seconds. Long enough that Cass could watch her resolve return in real time. “It wasn’t my intention to startle you, really.”

“Really.” Hmph. “Then what are your intentions?”

Before her stranger could even speak, Cass took it upon herself to lean forward, in more movement than she’d made in the past ten minutes, hands bridging in front of her mouth. A tactic to leave the woman focusing solely on her eyes.

A good way to block out onlookers and lip-readers.

“Look, I don’t know who sent you. Baroness Aiesha. Lady Caine. That guy I punched in the bar a town back – I don’t care,” she really was just going to lay her cards on the table now, wasn’t she? “We can fight it out after the train stops. I’m not starting anything in a crowd of innocents.”

A downside to her shift in posture: it put Cassandra closer to the other woman, which meant for a chance to take in the more subtle details, like the slight curve of her chin, the brightly blonde hair that poked through the hood, and those eyes.

Their eyes met for a scant few seconds again. But it felt longer.

Seconds into minutes into hours. They were close, close enough that Cass found herself trying to decipher every nuance of those deep blue irises.

Disappointment painted her expression. For what though, she had no idea.

“I-I can assure you, I’m not looking for a fight, or any kind of trouble. I’m just another passenger.”

“You’ve been watching me since I came to Starrvik,” and judging by the woman’s unsubtle shift in her expression, she was probably right. “Since I got on the Ish... the... This train!”

Dangit.

“Isbrytare.” Her companion chimed in a brief accent. “It means, ‘icebreaker’ in our local language.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence, watching one another. Evidently, Cass’s tempered gaze finally cracked her companion’s and she let off a quiet sigh.

“Okay. I... may have been watching you, here, on the train, but it was only because...” her lip was seemingly worried in thought, blocking the question on the tip of her tongue from slipping away. “Well, you looked lonely sitting here, all by yourself.”

That earned Cassandra’s attention. She was far from the first that told Cassandra that, good-intentioned or not. It almost sounded like the truth.

Almost.

She continued, “I know what that feels like. And, well, when I saw what you were wearing...”

Cassandra’s nose scrunched as she asked, “What does that mean?”

“Just an observation, really,” said the woman. Cass could feel her eyes on her, taking in her attire and, somehow, she could tell the other woman was feeling more shy about it than her. “I mean... you don’t seem to be travelling with anyone. And not many people in this region wear clothes designed like that.”

Cassandra’s raised brow and pointed look spoke for themselves.

“Not that I think it’s bad! I think it looks rather... charming, actually.” A bit of pink offset her pale complexion. “You must have come a long way.”

“...Okay. So, are you a tailor?” Cassandra had to ask, taking the time to gently adjust the white fabric wrapped around her left arm. Something to do with her hands that didn’t involve focusing on the woman across from her.

Her travelling companion smiled balefully. “I have done some needlework, nothing serious... But I do like reading about distant places.”

“Huh, I took you for a people person.” Cassandra chuckled, for the first time today. And it was echoed back at her. Light and gentle, cutting through the cacophony.

“No. That would be my sister,” she gently shook her head. “She’s always been better around people than I have.”

“My... friend is the same way. Always the center of attention, wherever she goes. Life of the party.” Cassandra smoothed out the former headdress tied around her shoulder and nonchalantly tried to make it look as good as possible. Yup. It’s nothing, but it looks good.

“Maybe we’re both just... bad at this?”

The number of people Cassandra had met in her travels that knew her connection to Corona’s princess could have been counted on one hand. She liked it that way.

“Maybe.”

This was meant to be a new start. New Cass. New destiny. New adventures. New friends.

New foes.

New worries.

New... loneliness.

Rapunzel’s note continued to burn a hole in her pocket. Were the situation in an even greater need to twist Cassandra’s guts, surely it could have randomly burst into flames if it so pleased the universe.

“Okay,” like a snuffed candle, Cassandra’s silent gloom was blown away. She finally leaned back in her seat. “Maybe I’m... wrong. Maybe you’re not here to kill me.”

“No, never.” The hood didn’t hide the way the woman’s brow furrowed. “I’d hate to see anyone get hurt... especially because of me.”

Something about her tone urged Cassandra to believe her. Like someone that had done harm in the past could only express.

“And maybe I’ve... been alone for a bit too long? And I’d like someone to... talk to.”

The woman looked amused, but didn’t tease her for it. “You’re sure?” She was answered by Cassandra’s nod. “I’d be glad to lend an ear on the way to Arendelle, if that’s alright... That is where you’re going, right?”

“It’s in my direction,” she replied in a way that obviously meant ‘yes’ but more obtuse. “Are you headed there too?”

She nodded. “Yes. To... visit my sister.”

A surprising lull had settled in Cassandra’s chest, and she found herself almost inquiring for more information. Unfortunately, her thoughts were snapped away by a commotion of noise and movement; people were rising from their seats and shuffling on mass to one of the next cars.

“What’s happening?” Cass asked, her tone unsure whether that sounded foolish, but her companion answered all the same.

“Lunch. There’s a dining car further up the train that’s offering meals and warm drinks for people that would like it.”

“Oh. Well, money’s a little tight right now.”

“It’s free; paid for with your train ticket.”

“Generous.”

“The trip is at least another few hours long, after all.” Cass glanced back to the blonde gesturing to her with a slight nod of her head while she grabbed for her satchel. “Shall we?”

For whatever reason, that question had Cassandra cornered. Sure, she could strike up a friendly chat with a random stranger, and put it behind her the moment she was off this train. But did she trust her enough to carry a conversation over a meal? Right now, that didn’t feel very likely.

Cassandra opened her mouth to reply.

A low grumble from Cassandra’s stomach answered for her.

“...Fine,” she conceded as the yawning emptiness in her stomach made itself oh so apparent. Too bad sinking into her seat felt completely moot now. “I could eat something.”

Her fellow traveller offered a comforting smile as they rose to their feet together. “I’m not sure they’ll have that specifically on the menu.”

----------

Even as one of the best looking cars on the train (that Cassandra had seen so far), the dining car was stuffy and loud. Cassandra and her new woman friend sat among booths and tables of friends and couples and families, all playing a symphony of noise with their conversations. Below, the rumbling train tracks rose just slightly above the din of activity. Accompanying instruments for the orchestra.

Mercifully, no one was looking at her.

No one except her new lunch partner.

“...You must be cold, huh,” Cassandra started, catching the woman’s widening eyes.

“I’m... sorry?”

“Your hood. You’re not taking it off?” She nodded in gesture.

Actually, as Cass thought about it, most people on the train had by now removed at least one outer later of winter wear to enjoy the warmth of the furbished interior. Even Cassandra had left her cloak to drape over the back of her seat, scabbard resting in the corner.

But her new companion remained just as neatly bundled as the moment they met.

“Oh... Yes, well... You’re right. I tend to get rather cold. Brrr...” She shivered. Or, some poor approximation of the sensation, with hands gripping her shoulders for effect. “There must be a draft in here.”

“I don’t feel anything.” Cass replied, blunt as a fresh snowball to the face.

“Ah... Just the same, I’d prefer to keep it on, if that’s alright.”

Not the most convincing display, but... well, Cassandra had met stranger folk. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Beyond a half-second stare that screamed ‘are you serious’ in the blonde woman’s direction, Cass made no fuss, and pulled up a menu to peruse. Not much to choose from, and even less of it was in languages she could parse.

“I know a few easy things you can try?”

Ah. Cassandra’s brow un-knit. There she went, being obvious again. At what point did it become so hard to not wear her heart on her sleeve?

Several years ago. It was a summer afternoon, and she’d nearly knocked a princess out of a tree with a shot-put ball.

“Thanks,” she went, semi-begrudgingly.

“I... noticed your sword. Are you skilled with it?” The stranger asked, nodding over her menu towards Cassandra’s sword, which she had chosen to leave out not-so-discreetly.

A warning, if anyone was smart enough to catch it. A sign of preparedness, too.

“A bit,” her tone didn’t convey that effectively. Darn her pride. “I’ve trained for a long time to wield one, so I hope I’m at least a little good at it by now.”

She couldn’t decide whether or not that was a joke, her mysterious passenger didn’t seem to be certain either. “Ah, I see. Do you... think you’ll have to use it?”

“I hope not. These cars look like a pain to fight in,” she’d thought of it, obviously. Extensively. “But I’m not going to leave it back in the passenger car, either.”

And then, to push this brick wall of a topic along, “So... this train. It’s... nice.”

Hood girl – Wait, no. That sounded too much like Adira’s thing. Ugh. - nodded. “Yes. It’s state of the art. Only the best for the Queen’s subjects, or so I’ve heard.”

“Good,” Cassandra could appreciate efforts where the rulers of a kingdom put their best foot forward, especially when it came to those less fortunate than them. “It sounds like Queen Elsa really went above and beyond for this thing.”

A snicker. Cassandra’s brow rejoined. “Was it something I said?”

“It’s just...” Fitting for such a demure stranger, her smile was one hundred percent apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’m positive the Queen put her all into making this the best train possible for her subjects... Possibly to make amends.”

Softly, quietly. Words only Cassandra could hear. “Amends? What do you mean?”

Deep blue eyes blinked. “You don’t know?”

There was no easy way to explain the fact that Cassandra had spent several weeks journeying through forests and underbrush. Not exactly the best place to find info on recent events. She opted to merely shake her head.

“Some time ago, Adrendelle was struck by a vicious snowstorm. Everyone nearly froze to death... It was the Queen’s fault. She’s... magic, you see.”

“I... Wow.” Natural bluntness and quiet surprise in mixed together in Cassandra’s voice, along with something else. How fortunate for her that the stranger seemed to pick up on it.

“That’s definitely one word for it... It wasn’t fun, for anybody,” she elaborated while setting her menu aside, hands joining together to rest in front of her. “It’s a miracle how many people made it out of that disaster unscathed, to say nothing of the entire kingdom.”

The faintest hint of disappointment was what gripped Cassandra so suddenly, in a way that surprised even the young woman. Before she could stop herself, words dribbled from her lips. “Why? What happened?”

The stranger blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“To Queen Elsa. Why did she do it?”

Precious few seconds passed.

Cassandra could almost swear that a lull in the car had drifted over them. The stranger, seemingly taken aback by her question, stared down into her empty hands, gaze bending towards their shared window.

A knot tugged taught at Cassandra’s throat – just in time! - had she said something foolish? Taboo? How had she messed up now?

She gently lifted her hand to physically brush the question aside. “I-”

“Her heart had frozen with fear.”

Resoundingly eloquent, much like a number of ways this woman seemed to act; it was strange, the way this woman appeared at times. Her poise, the way she carried herself, every part had a grace to it. And that continued as her voice did.

“Or, so I heard. Not that I claim to know what goes on between the royals, of course.” A cleared throat, some fidgeting; Cassandra noticed her tug gently at the last digit of her pointer finger with the opposite finger and thumb. “There was... an accident at the queen’s coronation. Some say the stress of her hidden powers got to her. The kingdom was flash-frozen in ice for a good day or so... while Queen Elsa fled to the North Mountain in fear.”

It’s an impressive amount to take in at once. Cassandra’s stomach could barely digest it in time.

“Okay, so... I take it the kingdom’s thawed out by now?”

“Oh, goodness, yes. It’s miraculous.” Awful quick to assuage Cassandra’s worries. “Somehow, the only healing needed after a magical blizzard was the emotional kind.”

That, Cassandra was familiar with. “And Queen Elsa?”

“She’s safe. Once the...” Ahem. “The matter was settled, the Queen came to terms with her powers and took her rightful place on the throne. The castle gates have been open ever since.”

Cassandra replies, though she really shouldn’t have. Or at least taken a moment to ruminate on her words. Instead, it goes, “Must be tough. Sounds like it might be the wrong job for her.”

She’d come to own her newfound candidness on the topic of work in the last year or so. Heavens know, in a given situation, in the past, Cassandra would have rather chewed her tongue off than offer her thoughts on staying in a position that you knew wasn’t good for you.

“You think so?” Her lunch partner asked, her eyes shimmering and imploring. Once again, Cassandra was struck by them.

“I do. Sometimes, going your own way, finding yourself? Where you really belong? That’s what counts.”

“Huh.”

Silence.

“Can I ask something? You don’t have to answer.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Cassandra nodded. “But you’ve already heard my two cents about your monarch.”

“What brings you all the way to Arendelle?”

A simple question. Downright casual.

It shouldn’t turn her blood to ice.

“An errand. For a friend.”

And that was all that was said.

The two fell into a more comfortable silence before the server arrived to their table. It was a reasonably-dressed older man, in a vest-and-dress-shirt combo. He took their orders on a small pad of paper, barely batting an eyelid at Cassandra’s indecisiveness, or her stranger’s quick swerve to her aid. With orders settled, he disappeared back though a door, and it was just the two of them once again.

By now, Cassandra noticed her friend had brought that small, leather satchel from her seat in the passenger car. Right now, it sat beside her, uninteresting until now. As Cassandra watched, her conversation partner flipped the latch on the bag and reached in, digging around just briefly before pulling out something in her hands...

“A book?”

“Just to pass the time...” A light shrug. “We’re just waiting for our- Oh!”

“Hey!”

Her explanation was cut off as a figure rushed down the lane, past their table just in time to knock the book from her hand, and send it skidding across the floor. Cassandra was already halfway out of her seat, prepared to delivery a stern talking to whoever it was, but there was little point; the figure was indescribable in their cloak, and had already disappeared through the exit doors to the rest of the train by the time Cassandra got to her feet.

A pity, almost. It had been a while since Cassandra got the chance to unload her temper on somebody.

Instead, she took it upon herself to reach down and snatch the traveller's book from the floor before any unfortunate passengers trampled it further.

In the process, Cassandra’s eyes landed on the book’s front cover and suddenly felt like they were rolling into an endless spin.

Oh, was this it? The world coming back around to repay her with pain and suffering?

She turned it over to brush a scuff mark from the spine, fully intent on passing it back to its owner... but not without a slightly withered look.

“You read The Ranger?”

“Yes! I...” Her companion nodded twice. Once, with vigor, than a second, slower time as Cassandra’s expression started to sink in. “I think they’re charming...?”

The Ranger was a bane on Cassandra’s existence; like an annoying friend, it enjoyed a habit of repeatedly popping into Cassandra’s life with an all too frustrating frequency. Just as she had started to forget it, the damned cover art was forcefully back at the front of her mind’s eye.

The masked vigilante, decked in racy decadence. Her sword raised as she stared off into the middle distance with a gaze of tempered steel, hidden behind a black velvet mask. Usually there was at least one woman draped on her.

The worst part was knowing that she had inspired the eponymous heroine. The writer could have at least gone for perhaps a different appearance, but no – The illustrations had to come down to even the minute details of the greyed sweeps in her hair, kept mostly contained by the cover of a wide-brimmed cavalier. Plumed and everything.

Somehow, her many adventures outside the walls of Corona found their way into the novellas, with varying levels of accuracy thanks to some very picky edits when appropriate. The series oozed schmaltz; every story Cassandra had skimmed skirted the line between swashbuckling adventures as pulpy as the parchment it was sold on, and heady, bodice-ripping content, though The Ranger had no time for romance. Her only love... was the road.

One afternoon, on the road, Cassandra smacked a highwayman upside the head with a copy. Knocked him right out. Then, she used it as kindling for her campfire that night.

Worth every coin.

It was actually a little surprising, knowing that her meek little conversation buddy had a taste for reading material like... this.

Hmm. But it was usually the meek ones, wasn’t it?

“And I bet you think I look just like the character.”

It was as if the little puzzle piece Cassandra had been fretting over from earlier had finally found a perfect fit. All this time, she had struggled to piece together whether her suspicions of ulterior motives was correct.

Had someone really struck up a conversation with her just because she looked like the heroine on a book?

The mere question seemed to make her companion balk. With a stuttered, breathy laugh, she attempted to brush it aside.

“I-I, no! I’m not... That is to say... Absolutely not!”

“Uh-huh.”

A lopsided smirk had snuck across Cassandra’s face. Had her friendly stranger’s features always been this rosy? Was it the cold finally catching up to her? Because Cassandra definitely felt as if someone had opened a window in here. But surely, she wasn’t that embarrassed about a sly jab at-

“It’s not like that, not at all.” Funny how this was the first time she’d heard the woman’s voice break. Her face fell into her hands, and what Cassandra could see of it had surely turned a shade or two of pink. “I swear I didn’t just greet you in the passenger car for... for that...”

Now, she watched her newest companion attempt to shrink down into something unnoticeable. Some part of her felt bad. Honestly, more than a part of her. It was amusing, sure, but she didn’t want to mortify the poor woman.

All the same, it wouldn’t be the first time someone on Cassandra’s journeys vied for her attention.

“It’s alright,” Cassandra tried to placate. “It was just a little joke, honest.”

Her words were accepted with silence. Though, Cassandra would have sworn she’s seen an eye watching her through those fingers.

“Let’s just drop the subject, okay?” Cassandra asked.

“...Alright.” A meek reply, but enough. She finally lowered the veil, her face still reddened even as she breathed in and they forced the moment to move along.

“So!” A cough, to clear her throat, as well as the air between herself and Cassandra. The book rested before her on the table, closed. She drummed a quiet beat against the cover with her fingers. “I-I understand that our tastes on the story may... differ. But it’s nice to meet someone else that knows about them.”

“Yeah... So, they’re not popular out here?” Cassandra ventured, eyeing the spark of hope that was being hung by a thread before her.

“Not yet. They haven’t exactly made their way over. This one was actually a gift from family overseas.” He hands parted to frame the novel, staring done at the illustrated cover. Blue eyes flitted from one ranger to the next.

“If you don’t mind me saying, it’s... actually a little uncanny how much this character like you. But that has to just be a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a big coincidence,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Like how the author thought it would be funny to base her works off of my adventures!”

The woman’s face was alight before Cassandra. “You know Anne Ominous?”

No, was her first answer, as a reflex, maybe was the second.

“I...” Cass let out a sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

It was like watching multiple puzzle pieces fit into place before her fellow passenger’s eyes. In the shadow of her hood, Cassandra spied a frown, eyebrows knitting. An idea was formed.

“Then... am I mistaken that you’re from the Corona region?”

“Ssshh!”

Cassandra didn’t like the sound of her own voice in that moment; it was quick, and higher pitched than her usually cool attitude. She didn’t like the look on the other woman’s face too much either; wide-eyed at the ranger’s raised hand, gesturing for her to shush.

Did the room just get quieter? Or was that simply her imagination?

Either way, Cassandra sinks an extra inch back into her seat.

“Sorry.”

“Was it something I said?”

Cassandra nodded, turning down and away from the conversation. Just letting the uncomfortable silence fill the space between them.

“Well... that’s my fault then. But, if it’s anything you need help with-”

“When is that food getting here?” Cassandra started, to which she blinked.

“I... I understand if it’s a touchy subject. We can talk about other things-”

“No, seriously,” Cassandra’s voice had dipped again. Eyes trained on the rest of the car, she finally looked around in earnest. The rest of the car had fallen into relative silence; no silverware clinking, no plates scraping. What once was the strong scent of hot chocolate had long since dissipated into the air. Several other passengers were glancing about, the same curiosity alight in their eyes as her.

“Where are the waiters?”

For a dining car, there was significantly less dining than Cassandra expected. What she had noticed being eaten earlier had been produced out of sacks and little lunch boxes procured from the passenger cars.

“That’s... odd.”

Her companion had noticed. Others, with either less forethought or less money, were also beginning to take note of the lack of service, along the even starker lack of food.

“Heck of a show this place is running.” Cassandra quipped. A joke, that’s all it was. Perfect for deflating the tension that anyone else may or may not have been feeling.

Her companion muttered into her hand, expression clouded – save for... her eyes, brow knit tight over them. Words. Something that sounded like, “This isn’t right...”

Just then, it was as if the universe intended to punctuate that sentence for her. The door to the kitchen car opened with a rousing clamour, and out of it spilled a number of men, and women, all of them wearing the same uniform

“If you complain about something, it’ll sort itself out.”

“Hmm,” And yet, more seemed to weigh on her mind.

“Oh my. So sorry to keep you all waiting.”

Suddenly, there was a waitress before their booth. She was young, slender-shouldered, and wearing the same uniform as their last server, hers with white sleeves rolled up to the edges of her elbows. Her hair was the color of burnt firewood. It was all tied into a long braid that fell over her left shoulder. Smouldering embers, contained.

“Have you ordered yet?” She asked, half-lidded stare falling on Cassandra’s companion first.

“Yes...? We’ve been waiting for a while, so if it’s coming soon we’d like to-”

“Ha!” She barked a laugh, sending a jolt through Cassandra’s spine. “Sorry, but this train isn’t nearly as efficient as you’d think. So you’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

“But it’s meant to be prepared in advance-”

“What can I say?” The waitress shrugged. “Beyond what I already have. Alright, how about you? Satisfied with your-”

Cassandra had been silent for a good minute, lost in a daze of watching the shifting figures spread to the waiting tables. A meticulous motion, as though it was planned. Only now did she fully take in the woman who had come to theirs, meeting her eyes.

Eyes that she recognized quite well. Voice, too.

And she did not like it.

“Cassandra?”

“Lady Caine.”

On a list of face Cassandra didn’t wish to see today, Lady Caine’s was surely near the bottom, nearing the bottom itself. Though, she’d loathe to ever admit that to the female bandit’s face, as info like that could be dangerous. Don’t want to accidentally provide fuel for that massive ego.

But, the basic fact was staring Cassandra starkly in the face. No amount of disguising was going to fool her.

“Aww. You know, I enjoy it when I get you to say my name like that; all growly, makes me feel like what we’ve got going is special.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Special?” Is that what she called being put in her place every time they happened to cross paths? A surprisingly common turn of events on Cassandra’s travels.

“Well, what else would you call meeting me all the way out here?” In an all too personal move, the redhead leaned over Cassandra’s seat. Her other hand strolled up Cassandra’s shoulder on two fingers. It’s targeted, of course. “You must really like sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Cassandra steeled herself and refused to let herself be shaken. It was just teasing. Baseless banter, which she knew well enough by now that Caine loved. Nothing about Caine was serious, save for her dedication to doing whatever she wanted.

Case in point. “I’m not here for you, Caine.”

“And you expect me to believe that,” Her redheaded foe was nonplussed, seemingly more focused on brushing back her side braid. “Come now, Cassandra. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you can’t keep away from me.”

“E-excuse me, Cassandra? Who is this person?”

Shit. Her.

She was still sitting there, watching them, taking in this animosity with more than a little confusion if the look on her face had any measure of accuracy.

Caine regarded her companion differently now, far removed from the practised niceties of a waitress, she was eyeing her up like a predator stalking its prey. “Oh.” Was all she said before turning back to Cassandra herself.

“As long as you’re not swinging your fists at me, why don’t you tell me what do you think of the new do?” She flipped her braid from shoulder to shoulder. “I hear it’s all the rage in Scandinavia. Perfect for blending in for a train robbery.”

A short gasp came from Cassandra’s periphery. “Train robbery?

“You’re robbing us?” Cassandra frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, what, like I was going to let this little beauty go un-robbed? Fat chance.” Caine’s smirk morphed into a sneer, and reversed just as quickly. “We both had to expand our horizons, Cassie. I set my sights outside of Corona, and a train like the Isbrytare is ripe for the taking.”

All around them, Cassandra could hear it, even if she couldn’t see it; hushed fear, the bright mood of the car being stamped on. Crushed under the heel of brigand thieves already drawing knives and short swords from their stolen garments. Hushed gasps all around them.

The air had grown cold again. The earlier mood in the train car, so comfortable and content... now grown stiff with uncertainty.

Something burned hot in Cassandra’s chest. A familiar, pleasant feeling to her. Righteous indignation; something she got from her dad.

“You know I’m not going to let you get away with this.”

“Oh, really? Because I’d hate to get in the way of your date.” She smirked.

Cassandra blew a couple strands of red hair from her face. “It is not a date.”

Caine pursed her lips. “Oh, honey. Have you told her that?”

“It’s true” Cassandra’s lunchmate had finally spoken up, mustering intent that shone in her eyes. Even as Lady Caine swerved to take her bundled appearance in once again, she did not back down. “We’re just... acquaintances? Barely, at that.”

“...Uh-huh. Blondes, am I right?” Another joke, one less heartfelt than the last. “Don’t get me wrong, I get it. She’s got a cute face.”

Boredom was taking hold, no doubt. As Caine was now straightening up, smoothing down her dress shirt with one hand.

In Caine’s other hand was a folded slip of paper. Nimble fingers unfolded it as she spoke. “Well, if she’s not here for you, then this must not be a sweet little love letter, huh? Ooh, royal seal and everything. Must be important.”

An emptiness filled Cassandra’s chest. Which happened to include the breast pocket of her coat that she was slowly, tensely, patting down.

Her eyes flew to Caine’s hand.

“Give that back!”

In a flash, she reached out to swipe the letter out of the outlaw’s hands. Except the move was anticipated, sloppy and born of panic. Lady Caine easily sidestepped it. Her gaze barely strayed from the words she was skimming through.

“Come on, can’t you let a lady read in peace? Or... are you afraid?” She glanced up. “Cassandra?”

Her name rolled off the thief’s tongue. Velvet turning to sand paper, course and rough against her enemy’s ears.

Cassandra’s gaze darts away. Away from Caine, to the passengers, to her passenger. Watching her, puzzled, but more than that. Worried.

“Cassandra...?” She starts, but finds nowhere to continue.

The namejust sits out. Stark and confused after it exited the woman’s lips. It felt better, hearing her name come from a friendly face, but not much.

A mocking gasp, laced in dramatics, filled the space between them as Caine set the letter down. “You mean... you didn’t tell her?”

Cassandra winced. “Don’t. I swear, I’ll-”

“Oho, you’ll what.” Caine started before raising her head, eyes bereft of fear. “Hey, guys!” She called over her shoulder. “Guess who it is! We’ve got Corona’s most famous traitor onboard your luxury locomotive!”

A few voices rebounded from around the car, gruff, acknowledging their boss’s statement. More voices filled the cracks, quieter, muttering. Corona? They said. Traitor?

“Corona?” Her voice dropped, subconsciously, it seemed. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Oh, sweetie. The things I could tell you about Corona,” Caine quipped. “It’s home, but not, you know? So many bad memories.. But instead of letting me go on about the past, why don’t you tell her just why you’re so insistent on hiding that cute little face of yours?”

“You’re afraid of people recognizing you?”

Cassandra couldn’t help but feel the entire train’s eyes upon her, even if they weren’t. She started to reply, only for Cain to cut her off.

“You didn’t hear the news, did you?”

Her question was met with silent confusion that pretty plainly spoke for itself.

“About what happened in Corona?”

The woman’s eyebrows raised and lowered, searching, reading into Caine’s smug aura, and the subtleties of Cassandra’s face. “You mean that matter with the unbreakable magic stones”

Silence that hung between them spoke more words than Cassandra could muster in the moment. It was just enough.

Lady Caine forced herself between them once more. “That ‘matter’ that nearly destroyed the kingdom and everyone in it? Yeah, sweetheart. That’s what she means.” Her voice was laced with smugness, syllables dripping with spite. She wanted to tell all. “But I’ll just spoil the ending for you: your lunch date here was the one responsible for the whole thing.”

“That’s not true-!” Cassandra started, but her voice was thin, her throat tight. It was more of a whisper than a retort.

“You see?” Caine smirked. “Plus the little sword girl here apparently got a letter from princess goody-two-shoes herself, asking her to come all the way here.

Don’t panic. A little voice thrummed somewhere deep within Cassandra’s chest. This doesn’t mean anything, don’t let it get a rise out of you. Remember your self worth.

A shame that voice’s platitudes were being drowned out by the thrashing crescendo of Cassandra’s heart. A beat that rose with the heat in her face.

Did she just hear someone say her name? Was it that guy? Or that woman over there? What did they think of her, just trying to survive out here. Did it matter?

Did she?

No. The walls close in around here. Her throat closes. For an impossibly long second, Cassandra can’t breathe. No. No.

...No.

One moment isn’t going to drag her back there again. She was better than that.

She could worry about how they felt around her after she’d saved their lives.

Unlike so many of the frightened passengers, Cassandra’s anxiety was left in its seat, worries drowned in the cacophony of laughing thugs and railroad tracks.

Yet, two words brought the carriage to a hushed standstill.

“That’s enough.”

The soft, almost musical sound of a blade exiting its scabbard was the emphasis Cassandra needed now, as she stood in the aisle, facing down the head of these hijacking hoodlums. The blade of her rapier caught the light of nearby lamps, setting it aflame in orange colors.

“...Oh, is it?” They’ve matched wits before, and Caine wasn’t impressed. She didn’t need to be. “You and what army?”

Cassandra rolled her shoulders, biceps tensed beneath the thick fibre. “These ones.”

“Cute. And to think, we were having a nice chat.”

Her hand moves before Cassandra’s does, but not to her blade. It’s the letter, one moment in Caine’s hand. The next, sailing through the air.

For a moment, it passes over a lamp and swallows the light. Soft cursive lines illuminated like glowing embers.

It’s only Cassandra now. Her, arm out, fingers extending. In slow motion, she sees herself snatch the letter from the air.

How long ago had these pieces of parchment developed such a hold on her? She may never know.

The world returns in a rush. Someone shouts something, but what she can’t be certain until she allows herself to listen.

“Behind you!”

It was her. From her seat, slim hands cupped over her mouth. A sight being rapidly obscured by the flat end of a blade.

Rusty and dull. Nothing like her rapier. A hunk of metal like that wouldn’t be cutting anything. It would be almost like slapping someone upside the head with a steel ruler.

But it will definitely still hurt.

Cassandra ducks and rolls under the sword swing. The bandit didn’t expect it and stumbles behind her under the force of his own swing. Easy opening for a leg sweep.

The audible thud of his body hitting the floor shakes the car. He’s out for sure.

Cassandra rose to find a crowd of eyes upon her.

Caine included, midway through rolling up the sleeves of her uniform. No sense in hiding who she was anymore, apparently... Were those new tattoos?

“You guys know the drill: she stops us, and we’re not getting our loot,” she states, examining the tip of a dagger from atop a table. “So try to remember that.”

Bodies shift in Cassandra’s periphery.They’re all converging on her, a semi-difficult feat in the narrow train car.

She counted five goons. Three in front of her, and two behind – plus Caine, of course, and minus the guy she had already knocked to the floor. A motley crew, like a pack of thuggish butlers. Not the worst she’s faced.

Lady Caine’s voice rings out. “Take her down!”

Cassandra, tightly wound as ever, springs into action.

A fresh burst of adrenaline guides her rapier forward to meet the dual shortswords of a brown-haired woman, locking them together for just a moment. Enough time to match eyes with the snarling thief. Enough time forCassandra to rear back and ram her forehead into the bridge of the woman’s nose.

The world shakes, and she reels with it, but not so much as the brunette. Only one of them meets the train’s floor.

That’s one.

From behind her. A battle cry? Signalling a sneak attack? Bold move, in a... stupid kind of way. Phantom instincts in Cassandra flare up, willing her to throw weight into her right and step to the side-

Swish! A sword cleaves the air where she once stood from head to toe. Her burly foe, with face concealed in purple cloth, had some heft in his swing, enough for theblade to break through the wooden flooring of the train.

A pause, a tug, another tug. Another pause.

A click of Cassandra’s tongue drew his gaze. “Stuck pretty good, huh?”

Something that sounded like frustration, either just an annoyed grunt, or an admission completely muffled by his mask.

No use in attempting to parse it out. Not with a fist in his face – hers. A swift punch to the jaw sends the thug barrelling into a nearby table, spilling drinks and shocking a couple passengers.

“Already under the table?” A smirk crossed Cassandra’s face. “Hey, Caine! Looks like you’ve picked up a couple of lightweights.”

That’s two.

“You’re all the crème de la crème. Really. You are.” From behind Cassandra. She could feel the sarcasm in the air. “But here’s an idea for you nitwits to try: stop attacking her one at a time!”

Her orders weren’t unfounded. They were doing awfully. So, Cassandra wasn’t so surprised at the sight of two of them stepping up towards her, daggers drawn. Two men, one in a uniform a size too small, the other wearing one that was definitely too big.

In the window to her left, the last thief’s reflection sneered at Cassandra, shortsword ready. The woman behind her had obviously never worn a vest, seeing as she had it on backwards.

The others were simple counters. This time, there was a chance she could be boxed in.

“There’s a tunnel! Up ahead!”

There she is again, calling out the tip Cassandra needs.

Sure enough, the light in the windows from acres of fresh snow is swallowed up in blackness – or, it would be more accurate to say that the train was swallowed.

Cassandra blinked and opened her eyes. It was no different. Judging by the calls of confusion around her, she wasn’t the only one stricken by this sudden change.

“Who turned out the lights?!” One reacts, though it’s muffled by the roar of the train echoing down the rocky throat of the mountain. Cassandra swore she heard another bemoan, “Aww, I can’t see through my mask as it is!”

Her fists curled. This was all she needed

Three, that last punch felt like four-

There was a flash in the dark. She hears something that sounds like the pop of a cork and the hiss of a bomb. Something shatters.

And pain. Burning hot pain surges up Cassandra’s right arm. Muscles tensed tightly all the way down, a reflex that was the only thing preventing Cassandra from dropping her sword. But her entire form had faltered.

She gripped her arm just in time for the train to exit the tunnel. Blinding light and pain mixed together, almost disorienting Cassandra, but she held firm.

Meanwhile, chaos erupted in the car

“Cassandra!” A gasp. She could see her lunch friend was huddled in her seat, watching the scene play out. Now, in the clear light, they could both see what had happened.

She drew her hand back from her arm, locking onto the few new sensations; a burst of pain, the smell of copper, the crimson staining the dark leather of her glove a murky black.

Blood. Something had sliced through her sleeve. There was now a not-insignificant wound along her arm, just below the shoulder, drawing blood to the surface. Any further in and she may have not been able to move it at all.

“Ahem.”

A click. Cassandra tore her astonishment away from the blood on her hand to the small, yawning void pointed straight at her face.

A pistol. Dangerous things, and not terribly popular in Corona. Which meant little to no experience with them. Not that Cassandra would, even if she had one; there was just something far more personal about using a sword. Shooting someone from a distance with a little firearm felt almost cowardly.

And shooting someone up close was... Well, that just felt rude.

“Got a little booboo? Sorry about your sword arm.” Caine The gun swayed loosely in her grip. It was just another trick. A show of smugness.

“Didn’t know you used guns now, Caine.” Cassandra hissed.

“Then I guess we’ve both learned some things about ourselves. What a journey this has been.”

The hammer clicks into position. Options. What were Cassandra’s options?

Nothing. Fat chance of dodging it from this range. And Caine’s hands were too crafty.

She had to try something else.

“You’re not going to shoot me, Caine,” Cassandra started with a painted-on smirk. She hoped it didn’t look too pained.

“And why is that?” The other woman seemed unfazed by that. But Cassandra hadn’t been shot yet. “And please don’t don’t give me some schmaltz like ‘I love you’ or anything like that. You’ll just make getting shot awkward for the both of us.”

“You shot me in the arm, now you’re going to shoot me in the face? Like this?” Cassandra swallowed, and she hoped. She didn’t enjoy playing this card. “What kind of sendoff is that for your ‘worse enemy?”

Silence. They stood there, neither wanting to break the

“...You know, you’re starting to know me too well.”

Click. Cassandra flinched, but felt nothing more than the pain in her arm. Lady Caine had pulled out a pocket watch. She gazed at it mournfully.

“We’re closer to town than I’d like to be, so as much as I would like to make up some grand show for you...”

The watch snaps shut and is deposited down a breast pocket. Just as the pistol itself is deposited-- right into the hands of the thug that came up beside her.

“Here, Dwayne. You shoot her.”

“Oh! Y-yes, ma’am!” He was a thin one. Wiry. Looked eager to take the task, despite his hands fumbling the gun Caine so nonchalantly dropped into them.

Caine’s hand fell to her waist, fingers wrapping round the well-worn grip of a curved sword. She slithered past Cassandra, stopping once as their shoulders brushed before she bowed out of the confrontation.

“It’s been fun, Cassie. Too bad it can’t go on forever.”

And she was out of sight. Cassandra heard gasps and cries behind her. The shadows of people ducking for cover. Not her. Cassandra grimly stands her ground, because sometimes she does stupid things.

Her thoughts were elsewhere. Caine had backed away, distanced herself after Cassandra had been wounded. She would have to meet Caine herself to end this fight. A shame that her sword arm had been shot, she could use her other hand, that was not currently holding a sword. She’d have to crouch down to scoop it back up. Precious time was needed.

Plus there was still the matter of the thief with a pistol drawn on her. And that name. Wasn’t there a guy... who did Eugene and Lance mention that one time? That whole mess with a horse. Some thief named... Danny? Doug? Dwayne? Was this that guy?

Wait, who cares? He’s trying to shoot her. Not that he’s managed it already. By the moon, she could have done a better job of it herself. Even Caine looked dissatisfied by it, while she tried to concentrate on shaking down some nearby innocents.

And by the time Cassandra snapped back to reality, Doug had finally righted the pistol in the correct direction.

“So sorry about this, ma’am. No hard feelings.”

He pulls the trigger and time slows before Cassandra’s eyes. She could count the seconds.

A click. A spark. More sparks. The scent of flame and burning reaches her nose.

Flame, vibrant and loud, escapes the loading chamber of the pistol and nips at the grunt’s sleeve.

“Yee-owch!” David flails, more in alarm, less in pain. Good news, the gun had malfunctioned as they were one to do. Bad news, Derek was waving a smoking pistol around in a confined space.

She didn't mean to sound annoyed, but that’s the sentiment that forces its way through as Cassandra reaches out with her good arm and grasps the front of his tunic-

“That’s enough!”

To headbutt him as hard as she can, right in his dumbstruck face. It’s not a perfect strike. Sloppy, in fact. There’s plenty she could have done to improve it for herself, corrected her angle to better hit the bridge of his nose, for example.

She’d put more thought into that next time she was getting shot at.

Such an uncoordinated strike earns Cassandra a jostled mind and a sharp pounding in her ears. Donald, on the other hand, goes down with the grace of a sack of dirty castle laundry, taking the pistol with him. Barely a babbled yelp in his defence.

Was that pounding? Or did someone decide to start clapping? Applause... for her?

She turns her head and the world shuddered, but she could see them; the passengers around her, cheering. For her. And entire train car had watched her go up against a pack of armed robbers and come out on top, single-handedly.

Even with a pistol wound. No too shabby.

Her lunch mate – unharmed, despite her proximity to all the danger – was still there, smiling, yet tensed. As if she had been planning on climbing out of her own seat at any second.

A glint of light in the window behind her. A flash of steel.

Fear.

“Look out!”

Panic. No time to doubt herself, and no time for Cassandra to turn around. She raises her hand as if on reflex – reaching out? For Cassandra? There was no way that she could reach Cassandra from where she was, but that didn’t seem necessary.

Cassandra had a split second to wonder just what the stranger planned to do with her palms raised up to the air like that, before – mist. White mist gathering in the air, swirling around the stranger’s hands. Gathering in them, merging, a small spectacle that still seemed to push the temperature around Cassandra down several degrees.

Drawing it all together and forcing her palms out, she lets it go: a blast of pure cold that rushes through the air, out of the stranger’s hands and flies just over Cassandra’s shoulder. Close enough that the icy cold whips Cassandra’s cheek. It’s fast, faster than she could react herself.

She hears it connect with something behind her, that much is immediate – as is the gust of cold air that pushed against her back, fresh frost in the air starting to cling to Cassandra’s shoulders. As Cassandra breathes out, for the first time in what felt like minutes, she watches in stunned fascination at the mist that forms and dissipates before her eyes.

Slowly, Cassandra turned.

Standing just behind her, with both arms raised, her sword prepared for a downward swing, was Lady Caine. It was unfortunate that the daggers she was glaring couldn’t do any damage as her sneak attack had been stopped cold – quite literally.

With... ice? Yes, ice, that had halted the end of her blade in a large chunk of ice frozen to the ceiling, with even more ice rapidly spreading downwards to the sword to encase the former pirate’s hands.

“Oh, you’ve...” Expression torn between exasperation and the same shock Cassandra surely had to be wearing at this moment, Caine tugged uselessly at her restraints. She shot a look in Cassandra’s direction and settled on a simple sneer. “You’ve got to be joking!”

Cain wasn’t speaking to her. No. It wasn’t directed to her at all. The hushed gasps of the passengers probably weren’t either, neither were the few that dared raising their hands to point at – Behind her? The woman?

The one who had fired a blast of powerful magic from the palms of her hands. Whose hood, so tightly secured before, now settled across her shoulders thanks to the expelling force of her own surprise attack. Who now stood in her seat, looking smaller than ever before. Wringing her hands, blue eyes adrift, as long, tousled locks of platinum blonde hair spilled free of what used to likely be a well-managed hairbun.

Her eyes came to rest on Cassandra. Hazel met blue. Those eyes, and the hair; there’s recognition that was long coming. It’s right on the tip of Cassandra’s tongue.

“You’re-”

“It’s Queen Elsa!”

A young boy had clambered out of his mother’s embrace and stood up in his seat, jabbing a tiny finger in the air, pointed at Cassandra’s lunch buddy before he was dragged back down by his mother. But that seemed to be enough.

All around Cassandra, there was a growing smattering of chatter. Certain words echoed from one side of the aisle to the other: Queen, secret, saved, surprise, hair... Apprehension had given way to a collective sigh of relief, and now, excitement.

Whole conversations flew over Cassandra’s head. She couldn’t bring herself to muster the same excitement. No, not at first. She’s frozen; like a clock stuck on one hour, unable to move forward until the minute hand forces it along.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tock.

“Queen... E-Els-Ooh, oh. Ohhh my.”

She could only imagine her face right now. How wide were her eyes? Did she look half as stupid as she felt with her mouth hanging agape? Was her face actively burning, or was that just her imagination?

The woman before her, who Cassandra swore was positively radiating with magic now, somehow managed to look even more sheepish than before. One hand curled into her chest, the other quick to join it after brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“Ugh,” From behind Cassandra, she could practically hear the eye-rolling. “Frowny-locks over here got a lunchdate with the queen? Do me a favor – find my pistol and see if you can’t put me out of my misery? I don’t want to have to sit through whatever this awkward thing is-”

That was when Lady Caine’s face became reacquainted with Cassandra’s fist.

----------

Arendelle Central Station wasn’t nearly central enough, in Cassandra’s bemused opinion.

For starters, the train station wasn’t central at all; it had been constructed near the top of a hillside that crested the valley the northern kingdom was cradled in. But the platform was also indoors, and the assemblage of passengers and steam-belching machinery left it a fair bit warmer than the last station Cassandra had stood in.

Though, even Arendelle’s chillier climate was a summer breeze compared to the gaze Lady Caine had gifted her as she and the rest of her gang were escorted from the platform by a squad of guards.

She’d break out, eventually. And they would meet again, eventually. Such was life.

Off to the side of the commotion, Cassandra sat on a set of cold, stone steps. The cold actually felt somewhat nice – or, maybe that wasn’t the right word. It was distracting, yes. Perfectly uncomfortable, and something she could direct her attention to, away from the stinging running up and down her right arm.

The Queen of Arendelle herself was tending to her wound. A travelling doctor onboard had lent them a band of gauze to wrap around her shoulder. Most of it was doing a fairly good job of absorbing the blood, the rest was currently being dabbed along her forearm. She was intent on at least cleaning up the amount of blood. And Cassandra was intent on remaining as still as possible as she worked away on the task. At the least, she was trying to ignore the fact that they had to pull her arm out of the sleeve, which wasn’t that bad in itself, save for the amount of time the Queen spent touching her bicep.

“I promise, we’ll get you some help soon,” she promised for the fourth time in the last five minutes. “Arendelle has excellent doctors.”

“It’s not that bad, your Majesty.” Cassandra replied, suppressing a hiss.

“Just ‘Elsa’ is fine, really.” Elsa repeated, once again, for something around the fourth time. There was a sheepishness to her tone. Not exactly befitting for a reigning monarch. Then again, neither was riding trains undercover.

But what did Cassandra know when it came to what was befitting for royalty?

“I don’t understand,” Cassandra started, because, really, where could she begin? “You really were following me when I boarded the train?”

“Before that,” Elsa admitted. “Back in Starrvik.”

“You were lying,” A stinging pain explodes on her arm. A misjudged dab. “You knew who I was the whole time.”

“I said that I didn’t know who you are. I meant that, honest; letters can only tell you so much about a person.”

“You were scouting me out.”

“I wanted to know you. The real you...” Elsa pauses, her voice trailing off. “And, I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one who’s scared of me?” Was that not the reason why the queen herself had tailed Cassandra all throughout the kingdom? But even now, that was becoming harder for her to believe by the minute.

“When I received a letter from princess Rapunzel, about how she wished to send you this way as part of your... pilgrimage is a good word, I hope. I’d... already heard about what happened recently in Corona, and your part in it.”

Surely, she could feel the way Cassandra’s body tensed in her hands. Noted the other hand that slipped into Cassandra’s coat, where fingers brushed the letter she’d thankfully retrieved from Caine’s unconscious person, right before the train pulled into the station. It’s a miracle she could keep a straight face just hearing it brought up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’d heard about you in great detail from her. The things you’ve done, the... pain you’ve felt. What lead you to betrayal, how you ultimately rose above it.”

“Not before almost destroying the kingdom.”

“You’re not the only one who’s nearly killed everyone they loved.”

A final say if there ever was one. Elsa’s words from earlier came crashing down on the two women, leaving them in a tense silence, mired in their past misdeeds.

“I’m sorry,” Elsa finally breaks the silence, her brow knit together. “I just... understand what it’s like.”

“You do?”

“What it’s like to be afraid, or hurting? And the damage a few bad decisions can cause?” That earned a distinct frown from Cassandra as Elsa nodded. “I do. And with magic... that destruction can be ten times worse on everyone, including ourselves. Especially ourselves. But...”

As if to demonstrate, Elsa placed her palm along Cassandra’s arm and... there was no warmth. Rather, a coolness spread down her forearm and up her shoulder, unlike the chill of Arendelle’s winter air, this was... soothing. The fire in her arm subsided and Cassandra’s shoulder, for the first time in minutes, relaxed.

“That’s why you need someone who understands. Who won’t give up on you, even when... when you’ve given up on yourself.”

Behind them, the endless drone of passengers rose into a commotion, and a voice rose beyond that. It was sharp and clear, cutting through the rest, punctuated by the stomping – no, marching, of leather boots. Guardsmen’s boots.

“Make way! Make way, please!” The clearing of a throat over hushed anticipation. “Announcing, her royal majesty! Princess-”

“Elsa!”

Arms out, wading through and parting the crowd of onlookers like they were the sea, was a young woman in a set of the brightest-colored winter wear Cassandra had seen yet. All purples and blues, blacks and reds. Cassandra squinted as she watched over her shoulder – Ah, no. The red was hair; two long braids spilling out from beneath her purple, knit cap, falling over her shoulders as she pressed through, eyes scanning the arrivals, and taking care to step around the guards still ushering Lady Caine out through what Cassandra assumed were the main doors.

“Excuse me – Whoa, sorry! Hi there. Have you – has anyone seen my sister? We were supposed to meet here-”

“Anna!” It was odd, hearing Elsa’s voice raised over the quiet tremor it always seemed to hold. And be so full of joy at that. She’d cupped a hand over her mouth for extra measure. “We’re over here!”

Oh. Cassandra found a new lump in her throat. That girl was Princess Anna of Arendelle.

Upon locking onto her sister, Anna’s eyes lit up and she hurried over. Elsa had already stood up to receive her, prepared it seems, because there was no hesitation before Anna threw her arms around Elsa’s shoulders.

“Elsa!” Anna hugged her tight, letting a moment pass where she just held her sister tightly, while Elsa gently patted her back. “Ohh, thank goodness. You’re okay.”

“I’m alright, Anna, I promise,” Elsa’s consolation was doing little to stop her sister from pulling away to look her over. “Everything worked out, just as I said.”

“Yeah? Well, explain that.” Anna pulled back and jerked her head in the direction of the disappearing guard squad. “Cuz I’m pretty sure a train robbery wasn’t in the ‘secretly get to know Rapunzel’s best friend’ plan we cooked up.”

“Anna...” Something in Elsa’s tone... was she flustered? She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry I worried you. There was... a complication on the train, but I’m safe, really. And...”

She turned with an outstretched hand to motion for Cassandra, who had already rose to her feet to watch this little sisterly pep talk play out. Busying herself by trying to ease her arm back into the sleeve of her coat as delicately as possible.

“This is Cassandra. She was the one who stopped the robbery,” she stated with firm affirmation. “And, not only is she as skilled in a fight as Rapunzel’s letters suggested, she’s also a... very interesting conversationalist.”

“Your majesty,” Cassandra bowed stiffly, words fluttering from her lips.

“Charmed. But just ‘Anna’ will – Oh my goodness!” Anna was just about to wave off Cassandra’s politeness when her gaze fell on the dark-haired woman’s arm. “Wow, you were... definitely in a fight. Is that bad?”

Cassandra gave a shake of her head. “I’ve had worse. You should see the other guys.”

Anna spared a quick look over her shoulder. “Pretty sure I did.”

“Anna?” It was Elsa’s turn to speak. The redheaded princess pivoted on her heels to face her sister. “You wouldn’t happen to know if the royal physician is around, would you? Our guest is going to need a little help before she settles in at the castle...”

“Whoa, wait a second. Guest? Castle?” Cassandra started, drawing both sisters gazes.

“Of course. You’re a guest of Arendelle, on behalf of our sister kingdom,” Elsa stated as Anna chimed in.

“Yeah, and... this wasn’t really the warm and friendly reception we were expecting it to be. But we’d still love to have you at the castle.”

“Do you just invite any former criminal into your home?” Cassandra asked.

But Anna appeared remarkably unfazed. “Only the ones who protected my sister and a train of our citizens from a pack of robbers. Besides, do you have any other plans now that you’re here?”

“Ehhh...” She didn’t, and it showed across her face. “I really couldn’t...”

“Aha! That totally means it’s settled!”

“Anna, please...” For such a quiet voice, Elsa could still command a conversation. Her sister immediately hushed as Elsa took the spotlight, hands folded together in front of her. “We would be happy to have you, at least long enough for your arm to heal. But, ultimately, it’s up to you.”

That was it. She was giving Cassandra the chance to decide for herself.

Some part of her was still rattled to her core by the Queen’s sympathy. Yes, she had been tricked, but... for her sake, not Elsa’s? She never would have thought that the local royalty would make such an effort to assure her arrival.

Then again, a year ago, she wouldn’t have considered the idea of anyone making an effort to bring her back from the dead, either.

They stood there, together. Two royals waiting on her decision.

“It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever,” Anna broke the silence.

Elsa didn’t ask her to. “Anna, really-”

Finally, Cassandra spoke. “...Okay.”

“Okay?” Anna, eyes lit up.

“Okay?” Elsa’s did the same. For just a moment, Cassandra could see the similarities between the royal sisters.

“Okay. I’ll stay with you... At least until my arm’s fully healed,” That felt like a compromise she could live with. That they could all live with.

Some of that sophisticated grace vanished at her answer, replaced by joy and – was that relief? With a not-so-discreet fist pump from Princess Anna, no less.

“Yes! You’ve just made the best possible choice. I’ll run ahead and get the royal doctor for that arm – and also someone who’ll handle your luggage and, I think you have a horse? I’d love to meet your horse, just saying. I don’t wanna sound like I’m bragging or anything, but I’m actually an expert in horse riding, and-”

At Cassandra’s withering look, the redhead slapped the palm of her hand against her temple. “Right! Right. The thing. I should – I’m going, now. We’ll talk more later! Nice to meet you!”

That matter appeared to be settled. Without stopping to talk, Anna sprung round on her boots and hurried back the way she came, past the dispersing onlookers, and out through the main entrance with her entourage trailing behind her. Leaving the two women, and the few onlookers still gathered, to watch her go.

“That’s your sister, huh?”

“Yes,” The fondness came through in Elsa’s eyes, the little way her lips curled as she spoke. “She can be... spontaneous at times, but she’s still the best sister I could ever ask for. She’s been just as excited as I was for your arrival.”

Cassandra rolled her shoulder tenderly, flexing her hand. “Guess we shouldn’t keep her waiting, then.”

“I suppose we’ve stood around long enough,” Elsa took a step, and glanced back. “Shall we?”

As if on reflex – or a memory of another life – Cassandra glided to Elsa’s side, easily falling into lockstep with the queen as they made their way across the platform.

A few of the lagging passengers waved to them, and Elsa waved back, demurely. Respectfully. Cassandra was trying to keep her head down before she remembered that wasn’t necessary. Not here.

She could be a little proud of herself today. She deserved it.

And yet, some part of Cassandra could help but catch the queen’s eye with a smirk. “So, was I as amazing as The Ranger herself?”

It looked like she nearly tripped over her own foot. Cassandra had almost stepped in to catch her. “Again, I’d like to reiterate that I wasn’t trying to... to talk you up, as it were!” Redness stood stark on the queen’s pale face The very idea seemingly clashing with her sensibilities, delicate as they seemed. Still, there was almost a hint of a laugh in there. “It was a strictly professional scouting. Nothing more.”

They had reached the main doors to the station. Ornate wood and frosted glass frames greeted them. Before Elsa could take the handle, Cassandra had already swerved around her to grasp it in her good hand, pulling it open wide. “Understood.”

The chivalry of the gesture seemingly wasn’t lost on the queen, whose hand was left hovering in the air a half-second before returning to her side. But not before clearing her throat with a muttered ramble that still managed to reach Cassandra’s ears.

“Although, that’s not to say I didn’t think you were... far braver than the stories suggested.”

With grace, and a barely-noticeable stumble, Elsa stepped through the door. Leaving Cassandra to absorb that statement.

“Ah.”

Nope. This would take some time.

Time Cassandra now had, as she stepped out into the kingdom of Arendelle and followed after the Queen towards their shared destination.