The Sins of the Father (Elsa)

[Deleted]

Nanaki had to admit, while the climb up had been sheer hell... the view alone was worth it.

The crimson beast lay near the edge of the clock tower's upper balcony, his forepaws dangling while his ocher eye scanned the massive sea of stars that blanketed this massive city, which he heard one of the local citizens refer to as "London". It truly was a breathtaking view, how the small pinpricks of light formed a haze of dancing diamonds in the soft, velvet glow of the nighttime sky, twinkling merrily in the sable gloom. A memory surfaced in the young warrior's mind about how each star in that sky represented a world up in the cosmos, and how when a star winked out of existence, it meant a world had been claimed by the Darkness.

Staring up into that gloomy tapestry, Nanaki hoped that Gaia wasn't among those faded worlds whose stars have disappeared.

Nanaki turned his head back enough to view his traveling companions, particularly one of their newest ones... and one whom he had met before. On the snowy mountain, it had been the Ice Queen who had given shelter to him and his friend Zack from the storm. While seemingly distant, she had provided succor and a (relatively) warm place to bed down for the evening.

Elsa, Queen of Arendelle. Arguably the most powerful of their companions, as well as the most dangerous.

Though Red XIII was too polite to say such a thing in her presence. The woman herself seemed as though she had gotten enough accusations thrown her way in regards to her... temperamental powers. While the red beast only had cursory knowledge at best, he had seen the reactions of other people to her, especially when they next met after the mountain. Villagers casting her out, branding her as a witch. It would have been wise to leave her and continue on his way, unabated.

But then, Nanaki always had a soft spot in his heart for outcasts. Was he not one, himself? And besides, she had treated him well when they first met. So he offered to join her on the road, as he did not know where he was going either, so he may as well share it with a kindred spirit.

Still... there were things he didn't know about her. And the powers she wielded still drew more than a little worry. He wouldn't leave her, not after he'd given his word to be her companion, but he would keep an eye on her. Not that he expected anything wrong to happen, but...

Flies don't often see the spider webs before it's too late.

Sighing at himself for his paranoia, hoping it was unfounded, Nanaki turned away from the still forms of his traveling troupe and turned back to his vigil, the soft glow of the tower below lighting his fur in a halo of gold in contrast to the darkness of the night sky.

[Deleted]

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Every beat at the door drilled fear into her heart, but she can't help from look up from her place at the window. She stared across her room at the plain, white door, decorated only in simple floral patterns around each of its four wooden panels. How many times had she studied those patterns, she wondered, her eyes tracing them while the last of the knocking faded into the silence of her room. Silence was her only companion in this place -- what had once been a part of her home, where she'd played, listen to her mother read bedtime stories to her and slept every night, tucked away under warm, velvety blankets and behind the silk curtains of her four-poster bed. Now it was just a cold, empty cell. Empty since her parents had moved Anna out years ago, so she could have her own room on the other side of the palace. They'd painted it in bright greens and yellows, like the sunshine in spring, or so they had told her. She'd never had the chance to see it. That, of course, was all part of the agreement.

"We'll protect her," her father had told the Troll that night. "She can learn to control it. Until then... lock the gates--"

The tall, wooden gates shut with a heavy thud, the sound of a thick iron lock clinking into place echoing in tune with the knocks.

"--reduce the staff--"

She could see the empty hallways of the castle in her mind, a maze of abandoned corridors and halls that were accompanied only by the occasional patter of teeny, tiny footsteps that stalked them, occasionally running past her room, where she would sit, huddled by her door, listening for them.

"--we'll limit her contact with people. We'll keep her powers hidden from everyone."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Elsa shook her head, shrank away from the door, curling up into a little ball on the wooden chair upon which she sat by the window at the other end of her room, her eyes wide.

She knows it's Anna. Only Anna knocks.

"... Including Anna."

No. No, Anna, please don't-- don't ask me!

"Elsa~?"

Elsa whimpered, shaking her head furiously. She knew what was coming. It was always the same. Always the same question, always the same voice. The one voice in the world that she longed to hear more than any other, the one voice that could bring her happiness.

The one voice that belonged to her only friend.

Her only sister.

Her only saviour.

"Do you wanna build a snowman~? It doesn't have to be a snowman..."

Of course I want to build a snowman. Don't you remember, Anna? Don't you remember all those nights we spent in the ballroom, skating and making Olaf over and over again? Don't you remember all the snowball fights we used to have on the stairwell, once I'd covered it in snow? Don't you remember? Don't you?

... Why can't you remember, Anna?

... If only you could remember...

... Maybe you could make them understand...

"Go away, Anna."

What? No!

No, Anna, don't go, I don't want you to go!

You have to tell Mama and Papa...!

You have to tell them I didn't mean it...!

Anna, I have to get out of here!

"Okay, bye..."

Anna, NO! PLEASE!

Elsa's eyes widened to their extent. Her whole body began to shake out of fear and desperation. The chair beneath her rattled uncontrollably. Sometimes Anna didn't come to ask for days, even weeks at a time. She had toys and paintings and music classes somewhere out there, beyond her walls, in rooms of the castle Elsa couldn't even remember anymore. She could afford to forget about her reclusive sister. The one who never answered her knocks or opened the door. The girl who she had a doll of somewhere, most likely shoved into some forgotten drawer now, no more a part of her everyday life. She must have grown out of dolls by now.

Just like she must be growing out of Elsa, too.

Alone. She was alone. All alone. Again.

Ice shot out from the soles of her feet, freezing the chair and spreading onto the violet carpet.

Elsa gasped, panic rising in her young chest.

No, no, no! Conceal, don't feel, conce--

"Elsa~?"

Elsa screamed, shaking her head even faster.

"G- go away, Anna!"

Something was wrong.

The lock in the door made a little clicking sound.

It was opening.

No, no, Anna, you can't see me like this!

Anna stood in the doorway. Her big blue eyes shone in the moonlight that flooded through the window, the rest of her body half-lost to the dark of the night. Her hands were held behind her back, a bright, wide grin plastered to her lips. She gasped excitedly at the sight of her sister.

"Elsa~! Do you wanna build a snowman with me?"

Anna, please, you have to leave... before they see you in here, before they see you with me! Before I hurt you again...!

Anna took a few hesitant steps into her room, cocking her head to the side with sweet, youthful innocence.

"Have I done something wrong?"

No, Anna... it was my mistake, my fault, I should have stopped while I was ahead... but you really have to leave! If Mama and Papa find out you're here...!!

Anna took another few steps closer, her head straightening and her grin widening. She unhooked her hands from behind her and threw them forward, outstretched, as if in welcome.

"Why do you never open your door? I just want to play... we used to play together all the time, remember?

Anna, please... if you don't leave, I'll get in trouble...!

Anna only moved closer, no longer hesitant in her steps. She ran towards Elsa, arms wide, laughing.

"Elsa, I miss you!"

I miss you too, Anna, but don't come any closer! It's dangerous, I'm -- I'M dangerous, don't you remember?!

But it was no use. Anna only continued to run until, at last, her arms reached up and wrapped around Elsa's middle. Elsa shrieked and shook her head, placing her hands on Anna's shoulders to push her away--

And then it happened.

Ice flew from her fingertips.

In only seconds, Anna was nothing but a statue of ice, frozen, her arms still locked around Elsa's waist.

ANNA, NO!

... WHY DID YOU COME HERE?!

... YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO COME IN HERE!!

... I'M... I'M NOT ALLOWED TO SEE YOU!

... I... I M- MIGHT HURT YOU AGAIN...!!

ANNAAAAAA!!

She was crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and salty. They dribbled down her nose and pooled above her lips. They rode the smooth lines of her chin and dripped onto her dress. The sound of thundering footsteps made her look up, away from her frozen, dead sister at the pair of faces that now peeked through the open door. Her mother squeaked at the sight.

There stood her father, his eyes wide and fists clenched.

"I told you, Elsa," he said, irritation mixing with concern in his voice. "Until you control your powers, you have to keep them hidden. You have to limit your contact with people. That's why we keep you here!"

But Papa, it wasn't my fault, Anna--

"You need to learn to control your powers! Why aren't you wearing your gloves?"

The gloves don't help, Papa, I've tried--

He strode forward into the room, towards her and Anna, his face contorted into a look of both sympathy and fury.

Don't come any closer! I-- I don't want to hurt you too! Please, Papa, I'm sorry--!!

He shook his head, bending down to wrap his arms around Anna. He took a moment to hug her, as if she was still alive, and patted her back comfortingly... before looking back up at Elsa.

"What did I tell you? Conceal, don't feel. Until you get your powers under control, Elsa..."

He reached up to touch her face, but his fingers started to freeze before they even reached her skin. His hair was turning white...

"... and if you don't, or if you make one wrong move once you do..."

Ice crawled across his face, into his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his frozen hand reaching...

Elsa screwed her eyes shut, horrified and shaking and guilty and ashamed--

"... You will never be able to see Anna again. You'll never leave this room.

... This will be your life.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever..."

No...

N- No, Papa, please...!

I didn't do it, she just came in, she--

It wasn't my fault, Papa, it wasn't--

N- No, don't leave, don't leave me in here again--

NO, DON'T LOCK THE DOOR, PLEASE--

"NOOOO!!"

Elsa shot up and out of her little bundle of blankets strewn across the wooden floor of the clocktower. Sweat poured from her forehead. She gasped for air. Every breath rattled her chest. Her arms shook at her sides. Her fingers, clasped around the thin material of her blankets, were as white as the snow that hung in the air around her, hanging, as if time itself had frozen. Her heart pounded inside her chest. She worried, for a second, that its frantic, deafening beats would wake the entire city below.

She whimpered and screwed her eyes shut. She didn't need to look down -- the familiar chill beneath her feet told her all she needed to know about the circle of ice that had settled there, caked across the hardwood like a wintery blanket. She took a few minutes to merely sit there, hunched over, her blankets spilled across the lap, chest heaving, trying to catch her breath. She fought for control over her panicked lungs and, after a long while, managed to will her breaths back into a reasonably calm rhythm, one hand clutching her blankets to her chest.

It was only then, once she'd found herself again, that she dared scan the rest of the room. The rest of them were all still asleep, their bodies huddled together just beside the narrow staircase that led up to the roof of the tower. She watched their chests rise and fall in long, slow waves as they slept, limbs mingling to share warmth, proximity and comfort. They'd invited her to sleep next to them, but she'd declined. She'd taken her share of the provisions, pillows and blankets and settled on the far side of the tower, as far as she could from the rest of them. They looked peaceful now, resting together, their heads tucked up beside each other's. Her nightmare had woken only her.

She got up. She needed air. Real air. Not this stuffy, heavy musk that hung in her lungs and clung to the walls of this age-old building. Memories and yearnings for the freshness of spring in Arendelle sprung forth in her mind, but she pushed the thoughts away. They would only be tainted by her torturous visions now, if she let them fester. Instead, she crossed the room, arms folded against her chest, hands rubbing her sleeves in some vain attempt to comfort herself. She headed for the staircase leading up to the roof, from which she could see the brilliant lights etched into the black quilt of life that hung above them all.

Brilliant lights and a flash of crimson.

It was 2.30 in the morning. Almost. Only ten minutes away from when the red lion-beast's watch duty would end and hers was slated to begin. She'd opted for the graveyard shift. Knew that in the wee hours of the morning, when London traffic had all but disappeared, leaving only the desperate and the drunkards on the streets below, it would be easier to spot trouble amidst the sea of lights spanning endless rows of squeezed-together flats, long empty boulevards lined with budding birch trees and the impressive facade of Tower Bridge above the mighty River Thames. She knew all of this only from having studied the map they'd gotten from the post office while trying to find a place to sleep. She'd pointed them in the direction of this particular building, a mighty clock tower with a ridiculous name: 'Big Ben.' Below them sat the impressive Westminster Abbey and the Parliament buildings, but the governors there -- big-bodied blokes with thick moustaches that rivalled only their waists -- hadn't seemed to have had much of a problem with the ragtag group of vagabonds taking residency in their clock tower. Either they were exceptionally kind-hearted or the group was in for a rude awakening in the morning.

Either way, she'd opted for the graveyard shift. Knew that, up on the roof, away from the others, she could find some semblance of peace, since her sleep clearly refused to offer her sanctuary from her past or her powers.

She shuddered and climbed the staircase. When she stepped out onto the cramped balcony on the roof, the little alcove built into the swooping head of the building, she couldn't help but take a deep breath. London air was hardly the cleanest -- it was thick with budding industrialization and smog -- but it was better than the strangled air they had to breathe only a floor lower. She let it seep into her lungs as quietly as she could, so as not to disturb the beast that stood, diligent, in his duty at the far end of the balcony.

Out of all of them, there was something she liked about this red creature. Beyond the kindness he had shown her in the village, when she'd been cast out by the residences for her magic as she often was, out of fear and misunderstanding -- how could she blame them? She would throw herself out, if the situation was reversed -- he had approached her in her time of need. They had barely known each other then, having only spent one night together in the confines of her Ice Palace, which, little did he and his human friend know, had almost ended in disaster. When they had parted ways, the beast and his friend had disappeared into the mountain air together, closing her own doors on her as they left, never knowing that the room above them had absorbed all the spikes meant for the room below... that she had slept with icy daggers digging into her back, coaxed from the magicked walls by her own fear of them. Fear that they had been sent by the very village that later expelled her for her witchcraft, that the villagers, somehow aware of the unnatural savageness of the storm she'd brought to their lands, had paid him and the human, Zack, to dispose of her.

But he had witnessed her witchcraft. He had seen her Palace, the great gusts of snow and ice that had billowed from her hands and feet at her distress in the village. He had witnessed the wild, untameable power she possessed, recognized the potentially fatal thread it posed to both him and his friends...

... and yet he'd still proposed to travel with her.

The invitation had clearly been born of his own warm-heartedness. The tone in his voice, even at the time, had been weary and she could tell he was still not entirely comfortable around her. Then again, none of them were. And they were right to be afraid, right to be uncomfortable. She wasn't safe around other people. She'd already frozen one of them to a wall by accident, trying to grab something out of the communal leather shoulder bag they took turns carrying. Ever since then, the majority of them did their best to steer clear of her. She was accepted at group meals and bedtime. The rest of the time, they walked far in front of her, or far behind. They fought for the tasks needed doing that would get them as far away from the frigid Ice Queen as they could.

But not Nanaki. Despite his reluctance at times, he tolerated her more than the rest, it seemed.

So when she turned her head towards him, her blonde hair and sparkling gown lit by the glow of the clock faces below, her hands hovering at her waist, a thin smile forced onto her lips, she hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake when she finally opened her mouth.

"...Do I mind if I join you?" she asked.

But the air couldn't hide the paleness in her cheeks or the bags under her eyes.

[Deleted]

Nanaki's ears flicked when he first heard the soft footsteps of the vagrant Ice Queen ascending the stone steps up to the roof of the clock tower. It was those distinctive high heels she wore, explained as a kind of ice magic, and yet sounding far more solid than mere ice. He was puzzled by such workings, but didn't question it too forcefully. Such magic was common where he was from, so it stood to reason that other places would have magic like this as well.

But Elsa took her time in approaching him. Almost as if she was hesitant. Or scared, perhaps. He couldn't tell her scent due to the constant smog from below interfering with his nose. Still, he turned to look at her only when she approached him directly. Not out of disrespect, but because he felt as though she wouldn't appreciate a feline eye focused on her from the other side of the roof before she was willing to address him. It wouldn't have been the first time people have reacted negatively to his studying them.

Her voice was slightly timid, but Nanaki could tell that it was more than mere meekness that made it so. She seemed disheveled wholly and completely when she talked, like she hadn't been able to sleep for days. Also there was evidence that she had been crying, rather recently as well.

His heart went out to her. Surely he had been misjudging her before when thinking such paranoid thoughts... but still, he would keep his distance. At least until he learned more.

"Certainly," he said in an amiable, if somewhat neutral, voice, "I don't mind some company. The watch gets lonely at points, and while the view is certainly... intriguing, I can only stare at so much human architecture before my mind begins to wander elsewhere."

He allowed her to sit alongside him and they both lapsed into comfortable silence for a bit. Nanaki was unsure exactly how to broach any conversation with her. She had been somewhat reserved to talking even when they met, and he doubted she wished to discuss the cause of her desire to seek companionship, nor why she had been weeping. So, he thought, and decided on her destination.

"You mentioned your homeworld to me before we set off after the village... Arendelle? What is it like?"

[Deleted]

She noticed his ears rise at the sound of the distinct clicks her shoes made against the stone of the stairs, and then the wood of the balcony. She felt a pang of guilt as she realized he had probably known she was coming before she had even reached the final plateau which led out to the roof. He was unlike the rest of his little group in that sense, and she often forgot that his natural senses were much more acute than hers or anyone else's. Sometimes that scared her, even, especially when on particularly sleepless nights, she longed only to separate herself from the gaggle of sleeping bodies and slip away to her own devices. It looked like tonight, a damsel trapped in her tower, such escape would be nigh impossible to obtain. Nevertheless he had, no doubt hearing it was her coming, kept himself from looking at her as she arrived, slipping out into the night to join him under the starry sky.

If he had known of her coming beforehand, however, he had enough respect for her -- or at least, enough respect for good manners in general, which Elsa, born to rule and raised on the niceties and manners of court life, appreciated just as much -- to keep his eyes on the view until she had managed to scrape together enough courage to blurt out her question.

He spent a long, silent minute letting his one eye, the other sealed shut by a horrific scar that ran, jagged, down the side of his face, wander across her bedraggled appearance. Her eyes slipped away from his as he did, and she could feel his gaze on each part of her as if his his one ocher eye was boring into her like a drill. She didn't even realize how unkempt she looked. Her platinum blonde hair, usually coiled into a loose braid, had crumpled on one side in her sleep, flimsy strands of wild hair sticking out at odd angles. In addition to the paleness of her cheeks and the darkness under her eyes, her hands continued to shake weakly where she'd now clasped them over her front, trying to remain as regal as she could, even if the very nature of her question, the meekness of her tone and the isolation she often preferred betrayed her efforts.

She cursed her shaking hands. His suspicions were true. She hadn't slept in days. Often, she didn't even try. Long after the rest of them drifted off into undisturbed dreams (how she envied them) or stalked away to their duty on watch, she would stay up, her legs curled beneath her, icicle shoes kicked off to the side, her dress draped by the elegant, glittering cape that hung from under her sleeves as she sat, reading whatever material she could find or sorting through the items their group had collected and, more often that not, shoved carelessly into the communal bag. Once or twice, the baker girl, Antique, who'd she met on a rather dire day in the town of Radiant Garden only a few days ago, had woken up on the other side of the room -- as Elsa, regardless of their whereabouts, point-blankly refused to rest or linger anywhere near the rest of them most of the time; they were fools to have invited her along in the first place, but she wasn't about to repay their kindness by adding more mistakes to the towering pile of them her life had already become -- to find her bent over the leather shoulder bag, rustling through its contents, trying to put them into some sort of comprehensible order.

Her lips pursed together just as he spoke. Surprised he had even entertained her question, and feeling more than guilty already for asking it in the first place -- she should just stay away from people, it would be safer for all of them -- she found herself looking up at him again. He invited her to join him, told her that the watch got lonely every so often. He goes on to mention his distaste for human architecture, and she has to fight to keep her brow from furling. The city before them, though she did not favour it over Arendelle, was at least somewhat impressive, with its boats steaming across the River, horse-drawn carriages trotting up and down the streets, the dots of thousands of little lights illuminating the extravagant town. This wasn't the first time he had said such things. She heard it often in off-hand comments made of buildings they passed or statues they found on their travels, the condescending, disapproving tone that accompanied his inexplicable disdain for the species he chose to travel with. If he were anything like her, she often thought bitterly whenever she heard that little bit of poison in his voice, he would travel alone. Keep himself from the people he hated so. Keep himself safe from her, in the process.

She hugged herself even tighter. It almost hurt at this point. But she was used to that. She slowly made her way over to his side of the balcony, taking one, slow step at a time, listening to the tinkling click each touch of her heel made against the thick wood. When she was about two rungs away from where he sat, paws extending past the edge of the building beneath the metal railing, she stopped and leaned over it, letting her gaze fall to the sleeping city below. She watched the inebriated inhabitants below for a little while, letting the silence that had fallen between them thicken. Unlike him, who sat, stoic, in his duty, contemplating how best to strike up a conversation with her despite their rocky beginnings, she was entirely content in sitting there in silence, letting thick air drive panicked breaths from her lungs, her braid dangling over her shoulder and swinging in the gentle breeze that swept the city. She didn't particularly want to talk. She certainly didn't like his proximity, either, but she couldn't ignore his invitation to join her now that she had foolishly asked for it. She supposed she didn't want to be alone... just alone with her thoughts.

And then he asked her about Arendelle.

The mere mention of the name made her whole body seize up. Her nails, already rubbing against her skin, began to dig through the thin fabric of her sleeves at his words. Her form seemed to shrivel into itself slightly as she leaned on the intricate railing for support. She exhaled. Her breath shook in the night air.

When she finally glanced over at him, there was a softness in his eye that she couldn't place. Was he feeling sorry for her? Did he pity her? If he did, it was more kindness than she would have ever expected from someone that, by all counts, was still a stranger to her. He had no basis off of which to trust her, no proof or assurance that she would not simply freeze him in place or freeze him entirely out of sheer closeness, either by accident or otherwise. He was a fool. Perhaps the biggest of them all.

"... It's nice," she said. "Lots of forests and mountains. A small castle town with a fjord around the palace."

She said nothing more.

[Deleted]

So his invitation at conversation did not bear as much fruit as he had hoped. The Ice Queen adamantly told as bare detail as possible about her home and said nothing else on the matter. Nanaki couldn't help but feel slightly discouraged at this development. True, she was always the outsider of their little group, always sticking to the edges of the campfire and staying the furthest away from the rest during travel. But he had hoped that with the right motivation and a friendly ear, she might not feel the need to distance herself so much from the people who were supposed to be her comrades and fellow companions on a very dangerous journey. There was no real direction for any of them to go, only forward until something presented itself that indicated home was near. And because of the diversity of their group, home was any number of places. Nanaki knew he could not wait to see Cosmo Canyon again, stand next to his father's stone body atop the cliff overlooking the moon. He owed his father at least one visit after all of this.

He couldn't help but reflect what irony all this was. Back when he was with Cloud's group, he was usually the quiet, reserved, stoic one. Never the first to give out any information, never forward with any intimate details. He always kept his gaze towards the canyon he was born and raised in, where his only family in the world dwelt. Nothing else mattered to him, not even Sephiroth mattered. He just wanted to be back home. And here he was attempting to get an even more withdrawn person, if that was even possible, to open up. What happened to this woman to make her so impersonal, so introverted? The ice must play a very large role, she said so herself when they met that she was not the best around people because her magic had a will of its own at times. Well... at least she was human, when all was said and done. She could blend into a crowd. She could disappear.

For him, there was no hiding what he was.

His intelligent gaze swept back over to where Elsa sat beside him, a little further away than what he expected, but she hadn't turned back for sleep just yet, which was a promising sign. She was obviously upset about something. Bedraggled as she was, she was obviously sleep-deprived. He had to wonder how long she went like this, waking up and staying away past all thoughts of rational sense into the morning hours. How she walked upright, Nanaki doubted he would ever know. But perhaps what she was looking for gave her the strength to push past physical limits. It's a shame that some unknown fear was keeping her from sleep.

They sat again in silence as the minutes dragged on. She obviously preferred silence, but Nanaki wanted to pierce this enigma as much as he could. She gave little, and she obviously had reasons, but for his safety and the safety of the rest of the crew, he had to know her true intentions. Even if it took all night.

"Do you have family there?"

[Deleted]

As silence overcame them again, Elsa leaned against the railing that kept them from tumbling down onto the city below, reflecting on what little she had revealed to him already about herself. Back in the village on the mountain, where he'd found her searching for lodging the second time they'd met, shut out by the residents that the blizzard that was billowing around her, he had been the only one brave enough to approach her. She remembered him emerging through the swirling, frigid winds that night, his fur, red as fire, glowing in the moonlight as he approached, one eye gazing up at her in shocked recognition. Even she had to admit, when she'd realized it was him, the same talking beast who had not too long before that entered her Ice Palace, seeking asylum from her storm -- why was it always her storm? -- she'd been a bit relieved. At least it was someone she'd met, someone she knew, even if they'd only known each other for the evening. At least it hadn't been someone with darker intentions.

She'd had had to explain things to him then. There had been no escaping it, not when he had been standing there, staring up at her, the same blizzard that had imprisoned him and his friend in her Palace whirling around her, betraying her. She had told him about her magic, about how it escaped her even when she didn't mean for it to. She didn't think it necessary, after that, to warn him of how much of a danger she was to him, to everyone she came across. He'd been speculative, but the evidence roaring around her was hard to refute, even for a creature who seemed rather rooted by sound logic and fair judgment. And, perhaps, by that foolishness she had branded him with too.

Perhaps that's why he had invited her into his little group of travellers, despite what he had witnessed of her abilities on the mountain. Perhaps he thought that her magic just needed a bit of control, that an accident every once in a while only posed a small risk to him and his friends. Perhaps he didn't realize that her magic had a will of its own not every once in a while but all the time: everything she touched, everything she made, everything that got even remotely close to her tended to turn to ice sooner or later. Perhaps he hadn't considered that her magic was not so much an ability as it was a curse. Perhaps she hadn't made it clear how dangerous she was.

He looked over at her, his single eye hovering over her curved, elegant frame. She glanced over at him as he did, catching the intelligence behind his eye and allowing it to put a small smile on her lips. She didn't mean to seem rude, or cold, or aloof -- it was just because she knew it was for the best. Distancing herself was the only way she knew would guarantee their safety from her, whether he or any of the others realized that or not.

"Do you have family there?" he asked.

Her expression hardened slightly. She rubbed her hands along her arms, trying to comfort herself and keep memories of Arendelle and Anna come rushing back as she attempted to answer his question. She wished he wasn't so persistent. It wasn't as though she disliked his company, but she could tell what he was trying to do. And he had the right to do it, she supposed. It was his group he had invited her to, his friends -- though, admittedly, she knew a few of them herself -- that he was exposing, putting in danger by letting her accompany them. And she appreciated them letting her stay. She really did. She supposed she owed him a little for his kindness.

"Yes," she said finally, looking back at him, sapphire eyes shining in the menagerie of lights that painted the city below. "Just my sister, Anna. There used to be four of us, but... our parents passed away quite a few years ago. It's just been the two of us since. That's why I have to get home. I have to get back to her."

She bit her lip. Despite her efforts, Anna's face was flooding her mind.

"What about you?" she asked. "Do you have family, back in your home world?"

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The beast had to admit a twinge of worry when he first spoke his question about her own family. Of all the things he could have asked, this one seemed intensely personal to her as he noticed her features flicker into hardness that rivaled granite. Perhaps he had gone too far with his questioning...

So the pair lapsed into silence again as Nanaki's question hung in the air like a fog. A curious wind blew across the top of the bell tower they resided on, providing some cooling levity to the heaviness of the silence, but it remained still, an unanswered and unaccounted-for beckoning for Elsa to explain at her own pace. As the red canine was about to shift the conversation to more friendly waters, the ice queen finally spoke, reflecting on her sister. Having lost her parents, her sister was her sole family member still alive, and it was important to return to her home and to assure to her safety.

Suddenly things began to come into focus. That was Elsa's quest, to find Anna again and protect her. Both her parents were dead, and now they only had one another. The desperation, though it was quite subtle, lingered on her words. It was her own personal quest to keep her only family alive after having been scattered and stolen away from her.

Nanaki could sympathize.

At her own question, he found an opportunity to explain how. "Of a sort. My own parents passed away when I was a cub, my father on the day of my birth. So for the great majority of my life, all I had was my... grandfather, Bugenhagen, and the people of Cosmo Canyon. Eventually he passed away as well, but I have had a new family since then."

He looked back over to her, his ocher eye conveying understanding. "I suppose our goals then are similar. All we desire is to return home to our families."

Companionable silence descended on the pair again as the city swallowed up the sound into the breeze. Now that they had established the goals, Nanaki wondered if there was any more Elsa was willing to share about herself. Perhaps not, as she was even hesitant to even speak to great lengths of her own home. And yet, there was one question he did desire to learn from her... as a fellow orphan of sorts.

"Forgive my forwardness..." (though that hadn't really been a problem up to this point), "but do you... remember your parents?"