#formedfrommist

( @formedfrommist )

The morning light poured in through the tall windows of Anna’s office, warm and golden across polished wood and neatly stacked correspondence. It should have felt comforting. Instead, to Elsa, it felt like she was under interrogation as she sat at Anna’s desk (because apparently her suffering was more authentic to Gerda if it happened in her sister’s chair) with one elbow braced against the armrest and her temple resting lightly against two gloved fingers. Her posture was regal enough to fool anyone passing by, but only barely. Beneath the polished exterior, she was losing a quiet and deeply personal battle against exhaustion.

Across from her stood Gerda… and in Gerda’s hands was a calendar.

Not just a calendar. The calendar. That dreadful, overstuffed, leather-bound instrument of torment that somehow always looked heavier than it should have been, as though it was fed by her suffering. Elsa was quite certain if she tossed it into the Arenfjord, it would sink straight to the bottom and poison the fish. She stared at it with the same wary distrust one should look at a cursed object.

“—followed by the trade delegation from Vesterland arriving at eleven,” Gerda was saying, turning a page. “They requested a private audience regarding winter shipping routes, though I have already informed them Your Majesty is only filling in temporarily.”

Elsa hummed softly, which she hoped sounded thoughtful and not like someone actively trying not to fall asleep. She’d been up before sunrise reviewing Anna’s correspondence, because ruling a kingdom didn’t pause simply because the queen had gone traveling to Chatho for two weeks to renegotiate a trade agreement and, according to her last letter, absolutely not get distracted by the markets this time. Elsa had her doubts. Now she was left with Anna’s duties and Gerda’s schedule. Which, frankly, felt like a cruel punishment for those fourteen years of sisterly neglect.

“After that,” Gerda continued, oblivious (or perhaps simply immune) to her suffering, “there is luncheon with Lord Peterssen and the northern farming council, then the review of the southern dock repairs, and at three—”

Elsa blinked slowly as her gaze drifted, just for a moment, toward the window beyond Gerda’s shoulder, where the Arenfjord glittered innocently in the distance. Peaceful. Vast. Deep enough, surely. One flick of ice beneath that monstrous book and—

“Your Majesty?”

Elsa straightened so quickly it was almost graceful. “Yes,” she said, far too quickly. “Of course. The docks.”

Gerda gave her that look she’d perfected over the years. A look that said she had known Elsa since childhood and could identify every single one of her evasions on sight.

Elsa offered the faintest smile. “I was listening.”

With the calm resignation of a woman who had survived two generations of this royal family Gerda simply turned another page. “Of course you were. At four o’clock, you are due to inspect the west barracks.”

Elsa let out a slow breath through her nose.

Two weeks. Anna would be gone for two weeks. She loved her sister dearly. She truly did. But if Anna returned from Chatho with gifts and stories about leisurely dinners while Elsa perished beneath the weight of this schedule, there would be words. Possibly several.

Her eyes dropped once more to the calendar. Yes. The Arenfjord was looking better and better.

from. @formedfrommist : 回 = patching a wound.

The situation wasn't dire nor the wound she had attained from fighting against rebel fire benders was that serious, it's just a simple burn on her forearm that katara could easily heal. The issues is , however katara wasn't around to provide the first aid she needs && instead she was left being tended by the same enemy that attempted - No. - actually murdered her few years ago. Her friends had already given him a ' pass ' , that the big , hulk, of Guy , Tagah is . Was currently in his path of redemption. Still despite Aang's assurance && the other's confirmation , Toph's walls are still impenetrable despite his obvious change , it mayhaps due to her partially claiming the blame of not ' figuring' his plans before that caused a lot of lives && destruction of republic city, or just that she had grown to be stubborn && tough like a brick, due to her role as the 'chief of police' of Republic City.

@formedfrommist said: Don't mind Tagah, he is just pulling Elsa close while they are both kind of still asleep. He wanted her to know he would keep her safe no matter what.

Elsa let out the softest little sound as she was drawn against him, still half-lost somewhere between sleep and waking. Warm skin met warm skin beneath the furs, her bare leg sliding over his instinctively as she settled closer without a second thought.

“Mmm…” she murmured sleepily, her voice rough with exhaustion and contentment alike. One hand drifted lazily against his chest, fingertips barely tracing there before she tucked herself beneath his chin.

“You already do,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “I’ve never felt safer than I do with you.” Her lips brushed softly against his shoulder in a drowsy, absent kiss before she melted fully against him again, entirely unwilling to let go now that he had pulled her close.

Dazed and disoriented, Morren didn't know what was happening. All she knew was there had been a bright flash of white light and the sensation of being pulled against her will. Now all she could feel was the bitter chill of an icy wind as it whipped her hair and caught her cloak.

"Esca?" Her first thought was to call out for her companion. The wind seemed to make her shout disappear in the howl.

Where was she? Panic was rising in her throat. This was not her forest home. This was nowhere she knew. And she was alone. That was the most frightening part. The idea that she was alone without the other half of herself.

"Esca!"

She was not dressed for this weather. Snow and ice and winds that ripped through her as surely as a knife. She had one of two choices: stay where she was and freeze or try and find somewhere to shelter and hopefully not die from exposure. Not dying was preferable. She could search for the wolf later, he likely was in a better state to survive than she was, alone on the side of a mountain.

She wouldn't get very far and she knew it. Still, she tried to push through the cold and the snow that made walking difficult. Still, her strength was easily sapped and it wasn't long before moving felt like a herculean effort. She had climbed her way higher, her golden eyes searching for a cave or a rocky overhang or something. In the end, it looked like she would succumb to the cold as her legs wobbled and eventually gave out underneath her.

In front of her was a glowing wall of ice and half delirious she reached out, calling to what strength she had. The earth shifted, cracked, and left a deep crack into the ice. She swore she saw something inside. The shape of a figure.

The sky bison’s nose twitched, taking a heavy step towards the other man. He wasn’t Aang, wasn’t his person, but he was of the people that lived with him and his herd when he was young. He watched him from the corner of his large, brown eyes, blinking once.

Then he shuffled even closer, butting his snout against Tagah’s shoulder and opened his mouth.

A cascade of fruits and vegetables, lovingly covered in Appa spit, tumbled to the ground at the man’s feet. An offering for friendship, it seemed.