but one still lies anxious, wide awake

[worstsin]

Geralt went to the beach to think.

He didn't necessarily want to think, but he couldn't stop himself, and it was important that he did, if he ever wanted to think his way out of the situation he'd found himself in. So, if it was going to happen regardless of his will, it may as well happen at the beach.

The water there was cold, if not as cold as it had been in the Gulf of Praxeda off the Koviri shores. The night sky seemed cleaner and clearer than it was inland here, though he still, even with his eyes, could not make out as many stars in the sky as he remembered, and they were not in the arrangements he was accustomed to.

But it was, mostly, peaceful. Ideal enough for meditation. And that was what he was looking for.

The gritty sand crunched under his feet as he approached the gentle lap of the waves. But he paused, frozen like a hunting fox. Something was off that night.

He could scent it in the air before he understood what he was seeing -- the unmistakable crispness of ice, of a chill in the air.

And there she was, in the near distance, a young woman with hair nearly as white as his own, silvery in the moonlight. She manipulated the cold with her hands. His medallion gave a leap.

Geralt sensed, somehow, or recognized something in her -- something that reminded him only too keenly of Ciri. She was not a sorceress, she didn't seem to use magic in the way a trained woman might. She was not a witch either, or a Source, though he sensed there was something terrible and powerful about her magic that had her here, alone, at night, trying to leash it and let it out at the same time.

"Averse to an audience?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't startle her. His voice was a low growl, although it was open enough. "I could move on down the shoreline."

Comments

[worstsin]

Geralt made a noise almost like a laugh. It was quiet and reserved, as much as his words were, and his expressions. He watched again, the way her little creation took shape. It was beautiful, and that set it apart from the magic of the Wild Hunt and the Naglfar, their ship of bones, which was the only other magic quite like it Geralt had known. It was beautiful, and Elsa put thought and heart into it.

"I'm not actually Rivian. Not that you, or anyone, would be familiar with it. I grew up in a country called Kaedwen. Deep valleys and ravines, bordered by mountains and pine forest."

He studied her for a moment more, the way a dog might.

"I'd like to guess Arendelle wasn't much different. You might have been pretty out of place, otherwise."

Geralt suspected she was out of place regardless, but if she wanted to broach that with him, it was up to her.

[frozenfractals]

Elsa has grown very fond of Darrow, not least because Jessica is here. She's made friends, too, and allies, people who know what she can do and respect rather than fearing it. Who love her anyway. It means more than she's ever been able to express to them that no one in Darrow seems to define her by her abilities, not even those who have helped her work with them. Judging by the brief while she spent at home after the thaw, she'd like to think it could be the same in Arendelle, but that's just a possibility. What she has here now is real, immediate, sure.

Still, she misses home. Geralt describes his home and she imagines Arendelle instead, nodding. "Yes, it sounds very like Arendelle," she says warmly. "We were right on the fjord, but there were mountains all around and great forests. I'm not sure I much fit in anyway, but I loved it dearly."

[worstsin]

He offers her a smile, because there's something kindred there. It's a small expression, barely there, like a ghost of something he might have once been able to become. But it's there.

Geralt wonders if that's the sin weighing on her shoulders that he senses. Not fitting in. It was not her fault, of course; it never is. But society doesn't suffer the different very kindly, too often.

Either way, he feels that he can open up, let out some of himself. Geralt spends too much of his time, being guarded, especially here.

"You might not feel you always belong to the people, but you'll always belong to the land you were born in. No matter how far you end up from it. Seems like this place is giving you somewhere to blossom, though? Away from the responsibilities of your birth."

He tilted his head to the side, dog-like.

"I have a daughter at home. She had big responsibilities on her head. We were separated for a long time. And I think while she was gone, she had some very hard experiences. But I also think it gave her opportunities. Just like you."

The thought was a comfort.

[frozenfractals]

Elsa quirks her head to the side, thoughtful. She's thought a great deal about the responsibilities she left in Arendelle, but only ever in the context of what she's left behind and what she owes. It hasn't occurred to her before that maybe leaving that behind has been good for her, even when she knows Darrow has been.

"Yes, I think so," she says, a note of surprise in her tone. "I've learned a lot here. Things I'm not sure I would ever have learned at home. I... I'm queen back home. I'll never stop carrying Arendelle in my heart, but I think... maybe I wouldn't have had as much time to learn."