Is it too greedy to say all of them? I'll try to be reasonable. "Ow!" (Chapter 8)
original fic here.
“Ow.”
“Sorry,” Kristoff says, not feeling particularly sorry. He readjusts the piece of his tunic around Elsa’s arm, and gingerly begins to wrap it.
“Don’t do it too tight,” Anna advises, poking her head in his field of view.
“You’re blocking my light,” he tells her, “And I won’t.”
Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have punctuated that so much. Elsa lets out a pained yelp.
“Kristoff!” Anna barks.
“Sorry!” He means it a little more this time. Maybe that had been too tight. He unwinds the bandage, tries again.
“If you wrap it too tight she might lose her pinkie,” Anna says, looming over them again. “Are you sure–”
“I’ve got this!” Kristoff snaps. Is he sure. Like the fact that Anna’s hands had started shaking as soon as Elsa revealed the cavalcade of bruises under her shiny new dress isn’t the only reason he’s doing this.
“I probably won’t lose my pinkie,” Elsa comments inconsequentially.
He ignores her. Ignores them both, so he can concentrate on finishing up with the splint. “There. We should get some ice, keep the swelling down–”
“I think I’ve got it,” Elsa interjects, smiling slightly as she waves her working hand. A magical flurry drifts into a scrap of cloth, forming a compress, before settling on top of the splint.
So that’s another part of his tunic ruined. “Fine,” Kristoff grits out. Great. They’re all just having a fun time here, having to splint up Elsa’s hand because some water horse thought it was a good idea to drag her through the sea by it.
He pretends not to notice the significant look the sisters exchange with each other, opting instead to rummage through the rucksacks. Everything’s fine. The Forest is free now, they can all go home. He even got the stupid words out to ask Anna to marry him, and she even said yes.
He doesn’t know why he’s being a jerk. He doesn’t know where to put the swooping, sick feeling in his chest, except maybe in a bag labeled His Fault. Get her out of here, right? And he had, without even a backward glance, when what he really should’ve done was drag both of them out of the Forest right then, mist or no mist.
“Kristoff?” He hears Elsa ask from behind, “Is everything…okay?”
For some reason the hesitant way she’s talking to him just makes him bristle even more. He doesn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. “Oh, sure,” he says, in a voice so horribly hearty he can barely recognize it as his own, “Why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like any of us got maimed or set on fire or almost squished into paste by rampaging Earth Giants–”
“I’m sorry about what happened with the Earth Giants,” Elsa immediately says, “If I’d been there–”
“Yeah, you could have broken your other hand at them,” Kristoff retorts. “Why don’t you take another crack at them now? I’m sure there’s still at least one square inch of you that isn’t black and blue. Or, hey. Call up your water spirit friend, I’m sure it’s dying for a rematch.”
“They wouldn’t attack again,” Elsa insists, “They were just scared, Kristoff.”
“I’ve been scared before,” Kristoff says, “And I never tried to hurt everyone around me.”
“Hey, Kristoff,” Anna says before Elsa can reply. She’s looking between the two of them with a very anxious smile on her face. “It’s, um. It’s okay to be upset about all the reckless charging into danger stuff. Elsa and I, we already talked about it.”
“Oh, you’ve talked about it,” he says, rounding on her now. He glares at the piece of bandage poking out of the neck of her dress. “That’s just great, Anna. I mean, if you’re handing out tips about not wanting to get yourself killed–”
“No one wanted to get themselves killed,” Elsa interrupts sharply.
He meets her gaze defiantly. That I’m the Queen voice hasn’t worked on him for at least a year now. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Elsa makes a frustrated noise. “I told you already, it was the only way to find the truth and free the forest. I had to–”
“Had to?” His voice breaks. “Elsa, you died! First Anna, now you–what’s gonna happen next? Are you just going to keep trading off?”
Kristoff doesn’t need Anna’s sudden wet gasp, or the abrupt silence that follows, to know that had been too far, too fast.
“I–” He wants to take the words back. No; he wants to go back home, to the trolls, where the most anyone gets hurt is a chipped nose. He wants to grab hold of the two women that make up his family now, and not let go until they promise to never put themselves in a place where they could get this hurt again. He wants to be young enough to not know that this would be an impossible ask, for Anna and Elsa to be less than themselves, for them to give less than absolutely everything to the world.
“I think it’s probably your turn, next,” Elsa says, after the long, horrible pause. Her tone’s light enough, but there’s no mistaking the slight waver in her voice, or the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes.
Kristoff lets out a shuddery sigh, and slumps down against his sled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He buries his face into his hands.
Someone sinks very carefully next to him. “It’s okay,” Elsa assures, when the burning in his eyes still hasn’t stopped, “It’s been…it’s been a long day. Right, Anna?”
Another someone on his other side, looping her arm through his. “Yep,” Anna agrees. She’s almost cheerful, even though her voice sounds a little like she’s getting over a head cold. “Super long, super scary.”
When he finally feels brave enough to look up again they’re both smiling at him. Like they’ve forgiven him already. Like he doesn’t have a choice except to be forgiven. “I’m still mad,” he says.
Elsa bumps his shoulder with hers. “That’s probably fair.”
“You owe me a new tunic,” he tells her, “And none of that weird, cheap stuff Oaken’s been trying to sell–real leather or bust.”
“Wait, why?” She rolls her eyes when he looks pointedly at her splint. “Oh, for–don’t I pay you an absurd Ice Harvesting salary for this exact purpose?”
“Personal damages shouldn’t come out of my salary,” he points out. “And technically, Anna pays my salary now, remember?”
“Yeah!” Anna pipes up, “I’m the queen, and I decree that you have to buy Kristoff a super nice outfit.”
Elsa looks over at him first, then Anna. Then she laughs. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Kristoff replies, reaching out for her uninjured hand and grasping it tight. “One hundred percent.”
