1. Kjærlighet. Gràdh. [Love.]

a. A Dream. [A summer now past.]

The ship sailed smoothly across the North Sea, lilting up and down in that manner with which great sea vessels adjust to the swell of water beneath them, a rhythm akin to a slow dance. The stars shone brightly, the dark clouds from earlier having dispersed. In the dark of night it was hard to tell where the sky ended and the sea started, so it was to the heavens that the young woman turned her gaze. Groggily, Elsa kept hold of the railing, taking deep breaths of the sea air to settle her dream addled mind.

The stars overhead glittered beautifully, an unending canvas of wishes and magic. There was a magnificence and awe to the spectacle of the Milky Way, one that was somehow matched by the feeling stirring in her gut.

Elsa didn't really dream much, as a rule. Prone to insomnia as she grew up, she was used to going to bed too exhausted for anything else but the black blanket of slumber. It was a habit she kept up with long work hours and early starts, even despite her sister Anna's best efforts. Many of Elsa's rare nights where she had dreamed ended up with her sitting in tears next to an open window. Bad memories would stir alongside sick feelings of dread in her stomach to mix a concoction that would set her frayed nerves on edge for the rest of the day to come.

This didn't mean that she never experienced pleasant dreams, thank goodness. The more pleasant dreams had become more common since she reconnected with Anna after years of self enforced estrangement... But they always seemed to fade away into nothingness as she awoke, leaving nothing to remember them by except the warm glow in her heart and the smile on her face.

This time was different. Her hands flexed around the railing as the images from the dream replayed themselves in her head. Heat flared on her cheeks despite the fresh sea air, and she couldn't keep herself from grinning. Even now, as she was starting to feel more alert, the face from the dream had done anything but fade.

It was certainly novel too. The running theme of the dream had not been unprecedented... but in opposition to its predecessors, Elsa found, this one had none of the shame or despair previously associated. It was still unlikely to ever be acted upon, but she didn't feel the need to squirm or hide.

It was only natural that upon waking in a start from such a dream, she'd sought to revel in the lack of guilt. This was difficult to do in her cabin with a seasick Anna finally asleep nearby. Besides, the cabin had felt too warm, too stuffy. Stumbling out of the room as the boat creaked and rocked, her hands grabbing hold of the railing that would lead her out to the outer deck, it helped her process it. Reaching the night air outside? It helped make it real.

Elsa grinned.
After years of thinking of herself as nothing but a monster, she'd only just gotten around to the idea that she could be loved. Anna's sisterly devotion, even Kristoff's warm manner and friendship freely offered, they'd reminded her of what it felt like to be human.
And now, she knew, as the dream replayed itself in her head, bringing warmth to her cheeks, she could love too.

She glanced towards Ursa Major, mentally tracing a line from one of its arms, finding Cassiopeia and doing the same. Easily she located Polaris, the North Star at the end of Ursa Minor, before turning her gaze west, towards the horizon. The sky was already brightening in that direction, the darkness of night fading to stormy blue. The blond woman thought of similarly coloured eyes, and started to hum a Gaelic tune she'd heard once, without understanding the words. As the boat dipped and rose with each wave, she recalled the laughter and play from her dream. Though the night air was cold, she felt her cheeks stay warm as she stayed to watch the sun rise, the sky gaining the golden red hue of the wild locks she had glimpsed before awakening. It was only as the sailors on board the vessel started their early morning change in shift, bells clanging and lights flickering that she retired back to her bunk, a bleary eyed sibling asking if everything was alright.

"Everything's fine," Elsa replied, mussing her sister's hair. "I'm looking forward to our holiday in Scotland."

Anna blinked, watching wordlessly as Elsa went to get changed out of her pyjamas, before a sudden rocking of the boat reminded her of her ordeal. She dived back into the blankets, forming a ball shape as she cringed.

"At this rate I'll be glad just to reach land." A freckled hand emerged to grip onto the nearby bar, knuckles whitening from the pressure. "How on earth can you stand travelling by sea?"

Elsa paused in buttoning her shirt, before sitting down next to Anna.
"Because..." It was hard to put into words, knowing full well that Anna hadn't always felt this way about boat travel. As young girls they'd loved the small dingy their parents had rented for them during their summer vacation. After the accident, Anna had continued enjoying the occasional boat trip without Elsa, stopping by her closed door every now and then to tell her of her nautical adventures in great detail. Those memories had helped Elsa when she had to consider travel over the seas, despite the awful tragedy of their parents' plane crash and drowning in those same waters. Elsa's trauma had simply transferred to their vessel, rather than the destination, unlike Anna. "It's because I hate the idea of being jammed like a sardine in a flying tin can more."

She hugged her sister, the young woman's impressive bed head prompting her to giggle as the hair tickled her cheeks. "Thank you for agreeing to come on the boat with me. I really appreciate the company."

"No worries sis, but this Scottish holiday had better be worth it." For the first time since they'd left the Norwegian mainland, Anna grinned full heartedly. She'd made no secret of her excitement at the prospect of meeting the Dunbrochs. Kristoff's tales of the Burns Supper event they'd hosted had really endeared them to her, as had the notion of Elsa actually agreeing to stay in the same flat as the Dunbroch daughter whenever she went to Scotland for business. In her mind, putting up with the anxiety of sea travel more than made up for the opportunity to travel alongside Elsa and meet these characters. "However I will be going home by plane. One sea trip is enough for me!"

"Heh, as agreed then..." One last affectionate squeeze and Elsa returned to her ablutions. Though she did have work she intended to do for the last few hours that remained of their trip, she too was looking forward to enjoying a good holiday...and seeing the fair bonnie face of Merida Dunbroch once more.

b. A Sorrow. [Presently.]

Elsa gazed at the photo album in her lap, hands limp. Her eyes were moist. Though the smile that graced her features as she was reminded of good times was earnest, it didn't stop the sadness, the bittersweet defeat that weighed her down. She was slouching, her back against the door to her room. She felt the grief hanging in the air, deep, heavy and petrifying. She remembered being sat there, in a similar state, her mourner's clothes as crumbled as the dress she wore now.

The sight of the boat in the photo that had reminded her of that sisterly trip didn't help. Anna had taken it as proof that they'd been on the boat together as it arrived at port. A picture to make the memory last, she'd said. She was certainly pulling enough of a face in the photo to ensure such a voyage would not be repeated. Anna's love for her was so selfless, and Elsa currently felt anything but.

She missed her parents. Maybe they would have had some word of advice to help her if they were here now. Maybe they could have prevented this situation from occurring in the first place.

The night of their first meeting would certainly have gone very differently had they still been alive.

With tears finally leaking from her eyes, she glanced at the two photos next to the one of her and Anna in that spread. The woman at the heart of her anguish featured there, bright, bubbly, electrifying as always. There was a photo of her dancing, wild and beautiful, arms and hair blurring as they passed in front of the table Elsa herself had been sat at. Merida Dunbroch, daughter of the CEO at Mordu Oils, had looked like she could've danced the whole night away. Her friend Jim had certainly grabbed the opportune moment to take a photo illustrating that moment, just as he had later that night, for the snap underneath, where a much more relaxed Elsa helped a floored Merida to throw snowballs at the misbehaving old folks.

Everything had seemed so much simpler then. Elsa wished for the tentative simplicity of their relationship back then. She forced herself to turn the page, to move on, but it didn't work. The moment her eyes found the next photo, she was done for. The sobs she'd thought she exhausted returned full swing, as she found the picture of Merida welcoming her and Anna to her parents' stately home.

She wanted Merida to come back home.

c. Adventure. [A summer memory, bittersweet.]

Dogs... She hadn't mentioned dogs.

Great big tall and skinny beasts, long grey fur flowing as they loped towards them, tongues showing and long eyes and muzzles pointedly aimed at Elsa and Anna.

Elsa froze. Anna cried out with glee.

"Ach, dinnae mynd th' dugs." Merida had chuckled, chuckled, as she closed the car boot. She had their luggage in each hand as she strode into the lead, barely noticing one of the huge hounds snuffling at her hands. "Once they've hud a reek o' ye they'll let ye be."

"What did she just say?" Anna whispered as she fussed the one that had reached her, the dog's nose sniffing away in ten different directions at once as it tried to wriggle out of her petting. "Who's a good dog? You are."

Elsa stared down at the dog in front of her. He was tall enough to smell her navel without lifting its paws off the ground. She frowned. Elsa had not expected dogs.

Thankfully, the pair of hounds soon had their full of greeting newcomers and dashed off to run across the huge lawn in front of the house. The place was a literal castle, large walls edging the limits of the property as rounded towers and stone buildings rose before them. Merida had driven her SUV through a Portcullis. They'd crossed an old stone bridge above a deep ravine just prior. They hadn't seen another property for miles. As far as the eye could see, the place was surrounded only by hills and sea.

"Failté tae mah castle." The Scottish woman hollered from the door, bags dropped at her feet as she waved at them to come closer. Merida's grin was broad and wide, hands on hips, pride evident in her posture. "Welcome."

"Okay, I'm sure that wasn't English she spoke just there." Anna's Norwegian remark reminded Elsa that her sister still had a lot of work to do when it came to understanding the likes of Merida. Not that Elsa had made that much progress since the Burn's night supper she'd attended just over a year ago.

"She's speaking Scots, I think." Elsa muttered as the approached the doors. Anna took a snap, before turning and taking some pictures of the hills for Kristoff. Elsa had no doubt that he would appreciate them later. She smiled as she saw Merida bouncing on her feet. "You get used to it."

It had been a long day since they got off the ship on the other side of the country, made even longer by the long trip by train that had followed. Anna was clearly starting to flag, though her excitement at their arrival was giving her a second wind. Her concentration coming and going in short bursts, Anna found it hard to follow any of what Merida said, though the two had certainly conversed at great length during the lengthy car ride from Glasgow train station.

Strangely, despite waking up far too early that morning and doing a lot of interpreting and the odd bit of work on her laptop and phone, Elsa felt invigorated. The air here was clear, yet with a distinctive smell of sea and pine. The summer sun gave everything a hopeful yellow glow, a nice warmth that felt very much welcome alongside the cool breeze rising off the sea. It felt so much like home and yet so refreshingly different. The age of the buildings, apparent in the crumbled edges, medieval stone and wear and tear from weather, was a welcome change to the highly polished metal and glass surroundings of her work day to day. It was also so much rougher than their house in Arendelle, all painted shutters and ornate doors. It was definitely a place that forced one to let their hair down.

So she did, pulling at the tie at the end of her braid. She felt the dimples in her cheeks deepen, she couldn't help but smile as her hair came undone, soft curls in her pale blonde hair tickling her neck as they spilled out.

Anna had paused in whatever she'd been away to say next. Obviously seeing Elsa loosen up that much was still a rare occurrence. She didn't regret it for the warm smile that sprung to Anna's face in response or the tackling hug on her arm as they stepped onto the front door steps.

"Come, let's git yer things tae yer rooms." Their host grinned as she booted the front door open. "Maw 'n' da are likelie oot back setting up th' barbecue."

Elsa still didn't quite catch half of what Merida had said, the Scottish lassie's excitement at welcoming her guests to her family home making her accent broader than usual, but she certainly felt welcome.

This was promising to be a good holiday... even with the dogs.

d. Concern. [Current time.]

"Elsa?" The knocking on the door wasn't entirely unexpected. Unwelcome? Certainly, but it definitely wasn't unexpected. "Elsa, I know you're in there."

She remained mute, back against the door and fingers vainly trying to wipe her tears off the pages of her photo album. She wasn't even sure she could talk if she tried.

"Did you and Merida have a fight?" Left unsaid was the word again. Elsa clenched her jaw. Lately it had always been fights. "...do you want to talk about it?"

"No Anna," her voice come out hoarse, choked. She sounded so weak to her own ears, she wasn't even sure her sister could hear her. "No, I... I don't."

A moment of silence, as Anna pondered what to do next. All of Elsa and Merida's fights recently had ended up with one, the other or both venting their frustrations to the younger Gyllenblom sister. For Elsa to remain so quiet, sound so broken, it had to be bad.

"Can..." She hesitated, afraid of what the answer to her question would be. She needed to ask. "Can I come in?"

It didn't take long for Elsa to reach a decision as to her response. Having heard the question before in a similar situation, and regretted her answer then, it was only right. Wordlessly, Elsa shuffled to the side, before putting the book down and pulling her knees closer to her chest. Gently she reached up for the handle, turning it such that the door cracked open.

By the look on Anna's face, it was obvious she'd feared a repeat of that day, all so very long ago now, when Elsa had been unable to keep it together for their parents' memorial. Relief filled the redhead's features, chasing away the anxiousness that Elsa had only a moment to catch before it was replaced with the gentle smile of compassion.

She was glad she'd opened the door.

Anna didn't need to be told to put her arms around her older sister, gently rocking her as the last of her grief shook her shoulders and shut her eyes. It was clearly not a time for talking, and the normally verbose woman stayed quiet, her eyes catching sight of the photo album put down to the side. She recognised the picture on that page as one of the very few Elsa had taken herself, all those years ago when Merida had invited them to her childhood home.

It was odd to think of Merida's home as being anywhere but with them in Arendelle. Somehow, Anna felt she might need to readjust to that thought again.

Gazing down at the familiar face of her friend and sister's cohort, Anna had the feeling she could see there the very root of Elsa's troubles today. Merida looked so free and wild in that picture. Her long red curls were slightly weighed down by water, as her eyes shined bright with a lighter blue than Anna remembered. The picture was flooded with light, the golden water of the fall, the red glow of sunset upon the rocks, the warm hues bouncing all over Merida's skin and hair, yet none of that was what shined the brightest.

The young woman in the photo had one of the biggest smiles Anna had ever seen.

Anna hadn't seen Merida smile like that in months, and it stung to realize that.

e. Carpe diem. [Now was the time, in that summer past.]

"I am not sure about leaving Anna with your brothers..." Elsa brushed clumsily at the rough plait she was hurriedly pulling her hair into. Her feet felt heavy in the shoes Merida had found her, insistent that her usual heels or flats would be no good where they were going.

"Whit's th'worse that could 'appen?" The redhead chuckled.

She had that mischievous glint in her eye. It was one that Elsa recognised from the odd week where she'd stopped over at Merida's student flat, a handy place to stay for the longer business trips to Scotland. The near monthly occasions, as work on her company's partnership with Mordu Oils intensified, had enabled Elsa to catch many a glimpse into Merida's student lifestyle. This included those few occasions where a stunned Elsa had been dragged along to a flat-party, only to witness Merida's risky sense of humour. Somehow Elsa figured that this was a trait she shared with her brothers.

"Oh, I do not know..." Elsa's accent was thick as she tried not to think of a drunken McIntosh sitting in a plant pot full of water, or back to a specific game of truth or dare... She certainly didn't want to imagine what kind of mess three little Dunbrochs could drag her sister into. "Where are we going again?"

"Ah tellt ye. We're aff tae hae a ride oan Angus!" The sheer joy in Merida's voice was infectious as she leapt over the front steps down to the yard. She'd already spent some time with the horse the night prior, after the end of the barbecue, and earlier that morning. Elsa had watched from the window of her guest room as the redhead had piled hay into the horse's manger, laughing as a long nose had ruffled her hair through the stable door. It certainly hadn't escaped the blonde's notice how subtly Merida had swiped an apple from the fruit basket after breakfast either, knowing from her many nostalgic tales that the fruit was a favourite of the horse.

Elsa wasn't quite sure how she felt about horse riding, but with Merida it somehow didn't seem so scary. Not that she was afraid, no... With Merida, it just seemed fun.

Satisfied that Elsa was ready (not that Elsa agreed), Merida grabbed her hand and lead her across the grounds, setting a pace about as rapid as Elsa's heartbeat upon noticing just how big a horse Angus was. Merida's head didn't even seem to reach his shoulder.

"This'll be great!"

Elsa took a deep breath, and forced herself to think of Sven, Kristoff's reindeer back home. Suddenly the mount with big antlers seemed a lot smaller, compared to the Clydesdale before her. Still, Elsa had developed if not a bond, certainly an understanding with Kristoff's best friend. She was going to make the effort to achieve the same with Angus. Putting her nervousness aside, she relaxed her shoulders and smiled, hesitantly offering her hand for the horse to smell.

Angus didn't seem too impressed. Rocking his head back as Merida scowled at him, he whinnied and stepped back from the door.

"Angus, ya coward, com'ere." Merida scolded him. "Honestly, fur such a big lad, yer such ae scaredy cat."

Hearing the reproach in Merida's voice seemed to bring the horse around, his black eyes peeking out from beneath his mane as he petulantly approached to smell Elsa's hand. Elsa was quite stunned to notice just how white the tip of his muzzle was, like a brush of purest snow against the deep black coal of his coat. Seemingly satisfied by the odour of her hand, Angus nudged her palm onto the top of his nose. It was soft and chilled, gentle just like the gaze he gave her as he towered over her.

Seemingly this was enough to satisfy Merida, as she threw her apple in the air to distract Angus as she opened the pen door. "Guid lad!"

She smiled as she turned back to Elsa, letting Angus happily munch away at the apple as she reached for the saddle. "Ye got your sister's camera? Where we're going, there's gonna be some fine views!"

Flicking her braid back, Elsa grinned and lifted the camera from the lanyard around her neck. Anna had been quite insistent.

And it soon turned out, Merida was not kidding about the views.

f. Burning. [Presently, damage control.]

Anna's phone started to ring as she led Elsa away from her bedroom, down to the kitchen. It didn't take much guessing to realise who was at the other end. Only Kristoff warranted a self-made recording of "Reindeers are better" as a ringtone. It was cute and adorable, and, quite frankly, the last thing Elsa needed right now. Anna understood this instantly, hanging up on her husband barely a few bars in.

Gods, Kristoff was Elsa's brother in law. It had been months now. It seemed so natural, yet it didn't seem to sink in until...

Now, when her world was falling apart... Now that the person who'd helped her stay sane and smiling throughout all the preparations and last minute emergencies of their wedding was gone... At least she had a family still.

Somehow that thought was anything but comforting.

Elsa sat in a daze as her younger sister pottered around the kitchen. She took the milk out, poured it into a pan and then reached up on tip toe for the jar of cocoa that they insisted on keeping in the highest shelf available. It didn't seem to take long for it to heat up. Soon enough, Anna was carrying a tray with two mugs and a packet of biscuits.
"Come on." There was no disobeying that tone of voice, though it was still soft and caring. Elsa followed, wondering at how cold the world seemed outside. Snow was swirling beyond the windows outside as they walked along the corridor.

For once, Elsa felt little delight in the wonder of winter. She longed for the warm hues and cool breezes of autumn. She wished for a storm that was no blizzard. She couldn't quite name what it was she longed for until Anna sat her down in the living room, the large armchairs pointing at the fireplace.

It was lit.

Elsa longed for fire.

g. Fire [A memory. A spark.]

There was something exhilarating about the burning in her muscles, as her arm stretched out and grasped for the next hold. Her legs hummed from holding her weight at an awkward angle, from being contorted, pushed and pulled upon. She could feel a tension in her core, not too dissimilar to that day when she was eighteen, when she had pushed herself to the brink by reaching the peak of a mountain. Only she had power-walked up to it then. Today there was actual climbing.

Some breathless chuckles could be heard. Merida grinned down from her perch above her.
"Nearly thar... How ye doing?"

For her response, Elsa merely smirked and kept climbing with greater fervour. Merida stayed still a while, watching, before moving on once satisfied that Elsa's arms weren't shaking too much, and that her path was safe.

"Tak'it easy fur this bit..." The redhead chided, as she held back to help Elsa onto the lip they were aiming for. "The Crone's tooth can get gae slippy 'ere."

All Elsa could do was grunt, the effort costing her every breath. She envied how easy Merida made this climb look. It was exhilarating, but also gruelling.

She reminded herself not to look down.

It took a moment for Elsa to compose herself. Deep elated breaths filled her lungs as she closed her eyes and rejoiced in the relief sweeping through her exhausted limbs. The top of the rock was indeed damp, the fresh coolness more than welcome after the sweaty exercise required to reach it. Cool, sweet relief, it seemed reward enough until she found the energy to sit up and look around.

The Crone's Tooth was certainly no mountain peak, but the views the tall stone offered were just as stunning. The fact that it was dwarfed by the cliff-face immediately behind it just added to the drama, the large waterfall thundering off it, within reach of the tooth's summit.

Merida chuckled as she reached for the fall's water, liberally splashing some over her head and cupping a drink in her hands.
"We're juist oan time tae!" She grinned, sitting with her feet hanging from the lip, pointing towards the west.

"Merida, this is..." Words failed Elsa as she saw what her friend was referring to. Norwegian took over, a gasped sound of wonder. "Fantastisk."

The horse ride had been long but pleasant, with frequent stops along the way for Merida to show notable landmarks and the spots where she'd practiced shooting arrows from horseback. Elsa had loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, of leaping skyward over fallen trees and boulders, her grip on Merida strong as the Scottish woman hooted with glee. To be challenged by the redhead to climb the Crone's Tooth with her? That would normally have been rapidly declined, but after such a freeing ride, it had been a welcome challenge, an opportunity to top off a brilliant day with an unforgettable experience. Elsa was glad she hadn't said no.

The sea to the west was glimmering with gold as a red sun dipped towards the horizon, a small seeming dot staining the sky orange, and filling the woods below with dancing lights and shadows. The view was stunning, and to share it with Merida... Lovely.

"Sae, ye using that camera or no?" Elsa's guide chided, her elbow gently prodding Elsa's arm. Elsa didn't need to be told twice. The shutter clicked rapidly as she took shot after shot. She could document the spread of the sunset's fiery kiss. She turned to the fall a moment, watching as the golden waterfall seemed to glow. "Now ye ken why we call them the Fire Falls."

Merida grinned broadly. That was when Elsa knew she was lost.

The fire surrounding them was spreading. It was lighting a brazier in Elsa's soul, heat flaring from her heart to her cheeks. It was all down to that smile, the grin that flashed the same earnest freedom that had first captivated her, one wintry night now months past.

She had to fight the urge to reach out, to touch, as a similar grin formed on her face.

Click!

She just wanted to kiss her. Oh, what was she to do? She needed to escape, take some time to think things over. With the stars above starting to twinkle into existence, the barriers between reality and dreams were blurry.

"Ah... How do we get back down?"
"Eh. Now tha's the hard part!"

Well, that certainly put a dampener on things. The embers left by their time by the fire falls, however, were not to be so easily extinguished.

h. Embers resting. [Now, she waits.]

It was what Merida called "the witching hour" when Elsa snuck out of her room, in the dark, slippers scuffing gently along the sleek floorboards. She gently pulled the door back to, stopping short of clicking it shut. She didn't want to wake her sister up.

Elsa hadn't slept a wink. She felt cold. Even with her duvet, even with Anna holding her in the cup of her arms as she fell asleep. Elsa felt frozen inside, hollow.

She needed something, anything, to help her process this sorrow.

Elsa looked to see if the stars were shining outside. The windows showed nothing. There was only darkness above barely perceptible snow. It was a far call from that night on the boat, years ago. There was no breeze in the corridors to rustle her hair. There were no waves rolling underfoot. There was no hope in her heart.

She stopped at the door left half-open. She could barely make out its outline as she gently pushed it further ajar. It swung easily, encountering none of the clutter that would accumulate behind it just a day ago. As she stepped through the threshold, she could feel how empty the room felt, how cold. She froze to the spot, fresh tears upon her lashes.

Elsa knew it was her fault Merida had left. She'd known for long enough that her loved one was unhappy, frustrated. She'd done nothing about it. She had ignored it in the hopes of it going away, as if that had ever helped before.

It made her feel angry now. Regret itched through her hands, teeth clenching with frustration, self recrimination. She could have... Should have! But she didn't.

Elsa made it to the bed, feeling for the blanket she and Merida had shared on a number of occasions. Desperately, she wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it tight. It had a smell. It was earthy, sour, like fallen leaves and old apples. She remembered nights spent talking about nothing at all; moments spent just enjoying each other's company, skin touching skin, exchanged smiles. She missed it already, oh so much.

It was painful to stay in that room, so Elsa left, dragging the blanket with her. It seemed to help. Idly she walked the length of the house, stopping occasionally to stare blankly out of a window, to listen for the phantom sound of a door clicking, her tired mind imagining a Scottish accent bouncing along the walls.

In the end, she made her way to the living room. It was the only room to have any decent source of light left. The logs from the fire had turned into embers. They glowed gently, red hues dancing across the room with welcome warmth.

Elsa sighed, sitting herself down in front of the hearth. Wrapped up in the duvet from Merida's abandoned room, she set about reviewing in her mind all the things she'd done wrong, all that she could have done better...

Her main mistake was obvious.

Elsa should have admitted to herself that she was afraid.

[To be continued...]