by Mari Mancusi
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” I murmured back, stroking her hair with my hand. “And I know this is hard. Probably the hardest thing we’ve ever had to face. But I promise you, we will get through this—together.”
And until then?
Conceal, don’t feel.
“NO! NO! NO!”
Elsa’s anguished cry rang through the hall. Heart in my throat, I ran to her door and pushed it open after making sure no one was standing nearby. I ducked in, then quickly shut the door and locked it before turning to my daughter. Elsa was standing at her window. Ice seeped from her fingers, crusting the sill. The entire room was freezing cold and I fought back a shiver. Usually I wore my coat to visit her. But she had sounded so distraught I didn’t know if she could wait.
“Elsa,” I called quietly, not wanting to frighten her. She lost control when she was scared. And that was when things got worse. As long as we could keep her calm, quiet, she could sometimes regain her composure.
She turned to me, icy tears crusting her eyelashes. The sorrow that surrounded her was unbearable.
“Sweetheart,” I begged, stepping toward her.
She held up a trembling hand. “No!” she cried. “Please don’t come any closer! I don’t want to hurt you!” I could see the icicles forming at her fingertips and took a hasty step backward, though it killed me to do so. She was my daughter!
But she had grown into something else, too. Something so powerful it scared me half to death.
I thought back to Grand Pabbie’s words.
Your power will only grow, he had warned. You must learn to control it.
Since then, Agnarr had tried to help her do just that—control her emotions, control her magic.
Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let it show.
It hadn’t worked. In fact, things had only gotten worse.
It was as though the castle had been put under a storybook curse: Anna wandering the halls like a ghost, not understanding why her sister had shut her out, her memories of her sister’s magic, and the night she was injured, erased. Elsa, too frightened to leave her room. I used to try to talk her into coming out to play a game or eat dinner with the family. Surely she could handle that! Her powers only manifested when her emotions were strong. We could keep things calm. Peaceful. She’d be safe. Anna would be safe.
But she always refused. Too afraid she’d hurt her sister again. Even after all these years, I still saw the guilt of what she’d done to Anna swimming in her eyes. It broke me every time.
As for Agnarr, he’d retreated into his work, throwing himself into the affairs of state and holding endless meetings. I felt like I hardly saw him these days, except at night when he finally crawled into bed, so exhausted he barely spoke before falling asleep. When I pressed him, he assured me everything was fine. He was just busy. But I could see the torment deep in his eyes. He knew, deep down, that his plan hadn’t worked, would never work. And our family, our happiness, was being torn apart, day by day.
I spent most of my days in the secret room in the library. But instead of painting stars on the ceiling, or sharing hopes and dreams, I now dove into research, translating old books and scrolls. Taking notes, trying to piece together clues.
“Why?” I asked the spirits in frustration after a particularly grueling translation of an old folklore book. “Why did you do this to her? Why must she suffer so? If this is a gift, let her use it! And if it is a curse, take it away!”
But the spirits didn’t answer. For they were still locked away behind the mist.
“Mama,” Elsa whimpered now, her voice drawing me back to the present. But when I tried to step closer, she backed away again, until she was flush against the wall, with ice crawling up the sides of it. I remembered, sadly, how she used to cuddle up to me as a child, allowing me to sing her to sleep. I wondered if she even slept these days at all.
“It’s okay, dear one,” I told her, forcing myself to stop in my tracks. “I won’t come any closer if that’s what you want.”
Her face twisted in agony. “Conceal, don’t feel,” I heard her whisper. “Don’t let it show.” My heart panged.
“I know that’s what your father has told you,” I said slowly. “And maybe it does help, for a time. But squashing down your emotions can only work for so long. Before you feel like a powder keg. Ready to explode.”
I cringed at the idea of the coming explosion, which at this point seemed unavoidable. It could be devastating not only to her, but perhaps to the entire kingdom. That was why we had her here, tucked away, I tried to remind myself. But all the rationality in the world couldn’t quash the guilt. It was cruel to keep her here in this cramped room. The kind of thing villains did in the storybooks—not heroes.
“Elsa, please,” I begged. “You can do this. I know you can. Just try a little harder.”
“I’ve been trying, Mother! I’ve been trying so hard and it’s only getting worse. I don’t know how much more I can take!” Her sobs echoed through the frigid room. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not you, not Father. Not…Anna.”
She looked like a broken doll. A shell of the person she’d been meant to be. All these years, we’d tried to protect her. We’d tried to keep her safe. Instead, we’d broken her spirit. This beautiful, wild, magical girl should not be trapped in a cage of our making. She should be free to spread her wings and fly like the wind.
Like the spirits themselves…
Was this destined to go on forever?
Only Ahtohallan knows.
Ahtohallan. The one spirit still out there. Somewhere. If only there was a way to find her.
“I understand, sweetheart,” I said at last. “Just…hang on a little longer, okay? My brave girl.” My voice cracked on the last part and I felt a tear fall from my eye, sliding slowly down my cheek. Elsa saw it, and to my surprise, she suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between us. I watched, breathless, as she reached out with a shaky hand and swiped the tear from my cheek. It froze on her fingertip—a perfect crystal trapped in time. Then she flicked it away, looking at me with her great, deep, sorrowful eyes.
“I love you, Mama,” she said slowly. “And I trust you. I know you will help me.”
I nodded woodenly, wanting to grab her, to pull her close and squeeze her tight. Never let her go. But such a move could cause her to hurt me. And I knew if she did—however unintentional—it would destroy her.
I gave a fleeting smile and a wave, even though inside I felt like dying. “I’ll be back,” I assured her. “Soon.”
I unlocked the door and headed through it, back into the warmth of the castle.
Back to the library. This time I wasn’t leaving until I figured it out.
“I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”
I burst into Agnarr’s study, not bothering to knock. Agnarr looked up from behind the great oak desk, where he was going over his papers. “Can it wait?” he asked, looking a little stressed, which these days was nothing new.
“No.” I shook my head, excitement coursing through me, mixed with quite a bit of fear. “It can’t.”
To his credit, he set down his papers, then rose to his feet to face me. “What is it?”
“Not here,” I said. “Meet me in the secret library.”
I dashed out of the study and down the hall, not waiting for his reply. I’d been practically living in the secret library for weeks now, barely bothering to eat or sleep, never mind bathe. I probably looked like a castle ghost at this point. Kai and Gerda were constantly asking me if I was all right. Encouraging me to get some rest. To eat.
But I couldn’t. Not until I found what I was looking for.
And now, maybe, I had.
Maybe.
And now I had to share it with Agnarr.
I had to share everything.
It shouldn’t be so terrifying to talk openly with my own husband. But it had been too long. There were too many secrets. And I was fully aware that coming clean now m
ight finally cause the house of cards we’d been building for years to topple over for good.
But I had no choice. Elsa’s life depended on it.
I stepped into the library, still remembering that first day in the castle, when Agnarr had proudly showed it off to me. I recalled my surprise as I looked up from floor to ceiling at the seemingly endless rows of books lining the shelves. Before then, I’d only seen a few books in my life; most Northuldra stories came from song and oral tales. It had been quite a shock, back then, to see so much written down.
But now I walked past the shelves, hardly noticing them as I headed directly to the back of the room, where the statue of the Water Nokk stood, guarding our secret chamber. With a quick, practiced motion, I activated the door, and it opened with a loud creaking sound. I stepped inside, with Agnarr on my heels. It was embarrassingly messy—a result of my desperate studies—and I paced the room nervously, sitting down one moment, standing the next.
After this conversation, everything would change. Forever. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.
Agnarr joined me after closing the passageway door behind him. I thought back to all the time we’d spent here when we were young, hiding our love from the world. Had my whole life just been a series of secrets, each more dangerous than the last? Was that why we were cursed now, by a secret so awful it was destroying my child’s very life?
It’s a gift, not a curse, I scolded myself. But it was getting harder to believe each day. Each time I gazed upon Elsa’s tortured face.
Conceal, don’t feel….
No. We were done with that. I swallowed hard, turning to Agnarr.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” I said, surprised at how strong my voice rang out. “Something about my past.”
Agnarr stepped toward me, grasping my hands and pulling them to his chest. His eyes met mine. His were troubled but focused.
“I’m listening,” he said softly.
It was more than I could take. Tears streamed down my cheeks like rain. Agnarr pulled me into his arms, stroking my back with his hands. Hands as gentle and strong as they’d always been. I almost gave in right there—almost melted into his embrace and pushed down the truth for another day.
But in the end, I pulled away, angrily wiping at the tears. I couldn’t fall apart now. I had to get through this. For Elsa. My sweet Elsa. And for Anna as well. My two daughters. I had to be strong for them.
I had to tell the truth at last.
Only, I didn’t know where to start. How would I even begin to explain? But then a single moment rose to my consciousness, blooming in my heart. The first spark that had grown into this inferno.
“That…day in the forest,” I managed to say. “The battle by the dam.”
“Yes?”
“The person who saved you. That was…me.”
His eyes widened. I could feel his hands trembling against my body, but he stood tall and still, only tightening his grip, not letting me go.
“It was you?” he whispered, but I could see the recognition begin to dawn in his eyes. “It was you,” he said again, this time in a sure and certain tone.
I nodded, emotions flying through me too hard and fast to catalog. “Me,” I continued. “And my friend Gale, the Wind Spirit.”
He stared at me, for a moment, not comprehending. “Wind spirit? But…”
He dropped his hands to his sides. Fear thrummed in my heart as I searched his face.
There was no going back.
“I am Northuldra,” I blurted out. “I was trapped outside the mist because I saved your life. I was discovered in Arendelle and Peterssen felt bad for me and protected me, saying my Arendellian parents died in the fight. In truth, my parents were already dead.” My cheeks felt as if they were on fire as I stumbled on.
Agnarr staggered backward. But I had to get it all out there now if there was any chance to save Elsa.
“I’m sorry,” I said simply. “I know people have kept secrets from you your entire life. The last thing I wanted was to be one of them. I wanted to tell you, Agnarr—so much. I was going to right after the proposal. But that night, Peterssen told me to keep my secret close, for the good of Arendelle. I was told I would be responsible for Arendelle’s fall if people were to learn the truth. And your fall, too.” My voice broke. “I was told you could lose everything—your crown, maybe even your life—if I revealed my secret. And even when he said it, I knew it was true.”
“What?” Agnarr’s face twisted. “But that’s not fair! You were just a girl! To force you to keep silent about who you are? To make you think your truth could take down a kingdom?”
His anger on my behalf brought tears to my eyes. His willingness to put the blame on others—not me. But though Peterssen had indeed pushed me to keep my secret safe, in the end it had been my decision to stay silent. Not out of shame of who I was.
But out of fear.
Fear was the only true enemy.
And it was still hurting us now.
“I did what I thought I had to do,” I said. “I regret it now, but I cannot change it. I do believe Peterssen, for all his faults, was trying to protect Arendelle—the only way he knew how.” I gave a sour laugh. “And who could blame him? It’s practically the castle’s motto, right? ‘Conceal, don’t feel’?” I paused, meeting his eyes with my own. “And before you judge Peterssen, haven’t we, ourselves, been guilty of demanding the same from Elsa? Asking her to hide who she truly is?”
Agnarr’s face went stark white. I stood there, waiting for him to digest this truth. I knew it was harsh—for he, like Peterssen, had only wanted to do the right thing.
But sometimes even the best intentions can lead to disastrous ends.
“My whole life I was told to hide,” I said after a pause. “I don’t want Elsa to have to grow up doing the same.”
Agnarr bit his lower lip. “Do you…have magic?” he asked slowly. “Is that why…Elsa…?”
“No.” I shook my head firmly. “Like the rest of the Northuldra, I lived in harmony with the spirits and used their gifts. But I have no magic running through my veins. I never have. And yet…” I trailed off, not knowing how to continue.
He reached out, brushing my cheek with gentle fingers. “And yet?” he asked. So calm, so quiet, considering the storm I’d stirred up with my truth. He had to be screaming inside. But somehow, he didn’t look angry. And not because he was concealing it; I knew that look by now. But rather because he wasn’t angry. He was just sad. And not sad for himself, either.
But sad for me. For all those years I’d suffered in silence.
Sad for Elsa, too.
I pushed on, suddenly feeling brave. “I believe Elsa is a gift from the spirits,” I told him. “A daughter of Arendellian and Northuldra blood. A union of our people, born out of love instead of fear. I believe Elsa was born with her powers for a reason.”
For the longest time, Agnarr stood stock-still. Then he nodded slowly. I could tell he was struggling to take it in. It was too much, far too much to lay on him all at once after so many years of keeping him in the dark. I tried to imagine if the tables were turned, how I would feel if I learned everything he’d told me had been a lie. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.
But Agnarr, I realized, was strong. His love for me was strong. I had never doubted that. And I couldn’t doubt it now.
Drawing in a breath, I dared to slip my hands back into his.
“Look, Agnarr, you need to know. Though I may have hidden where I came from, I never once hid who I am. The girl you grew up with, the woman you married? She was always me. The real me. And my love for you? That’s always been real, too. I love you more than anything in the world, and I always will.” My voice hitched. “Though I would understand if you wanted to—”
His hands tightened around mine. “I love you, too,” he said firmly, without doubt or hesitation. “And there is no need to hide anything anymore. From anyone—ever again.” He looked down at me, an expression on his
face so earnest it made me think of the boy he once was. “And we’ll tell the girls, too. They’re going to think it’s so great. Maybe you can even teach us some of the Northuldra traditions. Your songs, your stories.” He paused, a look of realization washing over his face. “Your crazy reindeer marriage proposal,” he added, as if it had just come to him. “Was that…?”
My mouth spread in a bashful grin. “It was,” I confirmed. “After all, you had the Arendellian love spoon. If we were truly coming together, I wanted to include something from my family’s traditions, too. However ridiculous that particular one might be,” I added with a small laugh.
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘amazing,’” he corrected me, looking down at me with so much love it took my breath away. He pulled me into an embrace and held me tight. Tears of sharp relief rolled down my cheeks as I cradled my head in his solid chest, listening to his heartbeat. Strong, steady. Just like Agnarr himself.
For a moment, we just stood there, wrapped in one another’s arms in the tiny secret room just off the library. How many times had we been here before? How many kisses had been shared? Declarations of love made? But this time felt different. For now he knew the truth. And all the guilt and fear I’d pushed down deep inside was finally gone.
For the first time in forever, I was free.
But we still had to talk about Elsa.
Agnarr cleared his throat. “You said you think Elsa was a gift from the spirits,” he said slowly. “And you also said since you’re Northuldra, you know the spirits. Can you…maybe…ask them about her? Maybe they would know what we could do to help her?”
I practically gasped. In all the emotion of telling him, I’d almost forgotten why I’d started to do so.
“The spirits are still locked away in the mist,” I explained. “At least as far as I can tell. I have not been able to talk to them for years. I thought once they might have come, when I was out in the blizzard the day I left Arendelle. But it must have been a hallucination. For I have called them every day since and they have never returned.”