Chapter Text
Chapter 5: Annabeth kinda becomes a therapist
“Wait! Elsa!” Annabeth called, but Elsa had already run off.
Annabeth didn’t know what had happened. One minute she was getting off the ground after being beaten by the princess, the next, a blizzard was raging and there was a snow monster in front of Elsa. Annabeth had gotten rid of it quickly, and the blizzard was gone as quickly as it came, but something was wrong with Elsa. She had noticed this before their first match, when Elsa zoned out for some reason.
“What happened?” she asked, looking around the arena in confusion.
Katie shrugged, frowning. “I don’t know,” she said. “I tapped Elsa on the shoulder, which must have made her surprised or something, because she let loose a blast of ice. I jumped out of the way in time, but that must have freaked her out, because the next thing I knew, the light snowing had turned into a blizzard.”
“One of you should go after her,” Chiron said, assessing the damages done to the arena. Nothing was broken, thankfully, which was a miracle considering the force of the blizzard just now. Even the pegasus ice sculpture was still standing, though Annabeth had a feeling that it would melt soon, once the clouds cleared away. It was summer after all.
“Only one though. I don’t think our new camper is comfortable with too many people.”
“I’ll go,” Annabeth volunteered. She looked at the direction Elsa had run off to. She had left a trail of icy footprints, which seemed to lead into the woods. “She would trust me the most, I think.”
Chiron nodded, and Annabeth quickly ran off, following the ice. She ran quickly, hoping that Elsa hadn’t frozen anything else. To her relief, nothing she saw on her way was encased in a block of ice.
Finally, the footprints stopped. Annabeth stood in the woods, surrounded by trees. Dryards looked at her curiously, but she ushered them off.
Looking around, she caught sight of a braid of platinum blonde hair peeking out from behind one of the trees. She approached it slowly, calling out Elsa’s name to make sure that the princess wouldn’t be spooked again.
Elsa turned at the sound of her name. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes red and puffy. The gloves were concealing her hands once again, and her parasol lay on the ground next to her, discarded. She was curled up into a ball at the base of the tree, and looked so tiny and helpless, nothing like the fearsome warrior princess Annabeth saw when she was sparring.
Instead, she reminded Annabeth of her younger self, when she would sit in the darkness of her room after a spider attack, arms red and bitten. She felt her heart tear at the sight.
“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked softly, slowly sitting down in front of her. She made sure to keep her distance, giving Elsa her space.
Elsa only hiccupped and said nothing, keeping her head down. Annabeth waited, knowing that pushing the girl for more information wouldn’t end well. She might run away again, and it would be even harder to find her.
They sat like that for a while, neither of them moving, until Elsa finally said something.
“I froze my sister’s head when I was eight.”
She said it so quietly that Annabeth could barely catch it. Her face was still buried in her arms, muffling her voice.
Annabeth’s eyes widened at the information, but she still said nothing. She remembered how Elsa had called herself a monster when they first met. Suddenly, everything clicked. Why Elsa thought of herself as dangerous. Why she was wary of using her powers. Why she had lost control when she almost struck Katie.
“I almost killed her,” Elsa continued, a bit louder this time. “I almost killed my sister.”
“But you didn’t mean to, did you?” said Annabeth calmly.
Shaking her head, Elsa let out another sob. She raised her head, still avoiding Annabeth’s gaze. “We were playing, I slipped, and struck Anna in the head,” she whispered. “Then I almost did the same to Katie just now, except I almost struck her heart, which would have actually killed her.”
“But you didn’t,” Annabeth argued. She wanted to give the young girl in front of her a big hug but resisted the urge. She had a feeling that Elsa didn’t want physical touch right now. Anna, if Annabeth recalled clearly from her books, was the younger princess of Arendelle. Elsa’s sister.
Elsa gave a dry laugh. “I didn’t. But what I did was create a giant blizzard and snow monster that almost killed us all.”
“You were just afraid,” Annabeth said gently. “Happens to the best of us.”
Elsa shook her head again. She held back another sob but failed. The dam finally broke, and she burst into tears. Annabeth sat patiently, waiting for the girl to calm down. Tears streamed down Elsa’s face, and she looked Annabeth in the eye for the first time since she ran away.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Annabeth asked, keeping her voice low, not wanting to scare her any more.
Nodding slightly, Elsa lowered her head once more. Annabeth feared that she was going to clam up again, but Elsa didn’t. She began to talk.
She told Annabeth about her life in the castle, how she used to play with Anna and used her powers all the time, how she accidentally caused an accident, and how she isolated herself from everyone else from the day forward. The whole time, Annabeth listened carefully, not making a single sound, but nodding along to Elsa’s story.
The young girl had withdrawn from the world at the tender age of eight, not much older than Annabeth had been when she ran away from her dad and stepmom. But at least she had Thalia and Luke.
Elsa had no one. No one to share her joys, her sadness, her fears to. No one to laugh with her when she was happy. No one to comfort her when she was down. No one to understand her.
Annabeth pitied Elsa. While self-isolation isn’t the best plan when it comes to these things, she understood how she thought there was no other option at that time.
Elsa told Annabeth about how her parents tried to get her to go out of her room more, but she refused every time. How her father had closed the gates of the palace after that incident. How she avoided physical touch ever since. How she watched her mother’s heart break when she avoided her hugs. How Anna had been knocking on her bedroom door ever since, begging for them to spend time together.
Elsa cried until there were no tears left. She buried her head in her arms once more, curling up into a little ball of sadness. The entire time, Annabeth listened.
“Elsa, look at me,” Annabeth said, in a slightly firm tone. Elsa lifted her head, albeit reluctantly, looking at Annabeth with bloodshot eyes.
She looked weary, looked too old for her age. It was the face of a child who had been through too much in life. It was the face of a kid who had to act like an adult. It was a face that Annabeth had seen on many young demigods. It was a face that Annabeth wished to never see on another child ever again.
“None of it is your fault,” Annabeth said. “You were young. You’re still young. You can’t control your power. Whatever happened, it isn’t your fault.”
Sniffling, Elsa looked down on the ground once more. “I hurt you, hurt Katie. I’m a monster,” she said, whispering the last sentence.
Annabeth shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself, Elsa,” she said. “Katie doesn’t blame you either. We were all really worried.”
To Annabeth’s surprise, Elsa suddenly leaned forward, latching herself onto Annabeth, hugging her tightly. Annabeth stilled for a moment, but it didn’t take long for her to hug Elsa back just as tightly.
“It’s okay,” she said, repeating the words in an attempt to comfort the poor girl. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
After what seemed like ages, Elsa finally pulled back.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, clenching her fists.
“Don’t apologize,” Annabeth said. “You’re not a monster, Elsa. You’re amazing. As Katie said, it's not every day someone beats me at sparring.”
Elsa finally, finally smiled, when she heard Annabeth’s words. And just like that, Annabeth knew that everything was really going to be okay.
