The pain was intense. Freja collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. It had been days... days since she had seen Randolf. Tears streamed down her face, from both the physical and emotional pain. She could not go on like this, she would die... why had Randolf not come to see her? Why had he cancelled their lunch? Was what the doctor found... was she contagious?

She used the last ounce of her strength to reach the door. "H—help..." she groaned. Another shock of pain shot up her spine and she shrieked. "HELP!"

No footsteps echoing through the corridor, no shouts of concern. There was silence, save her labored breaths.

"R... Randolf..." she sobbed against the wood.

"Freja, daughter of Alva." A familiar voice and the smell of the forest surrounded her.

"Seph—Seph, is that you?"

She turned her aching head, vision blurring. The fae stood on the windowsill, blue hair whipping in the wind.

"I've sworn on my life to protect you; you must return home."

"I—I can't." Freja slid down the door to the floor. "I must see Randolf. I love him Seph; I love him dearly... you cannot take me away!"

"Freja, my darling girl..." Sephera knelt beside her. "Your Prince has forsaken you, you must know this by now. The illness twisting you apart... I've sworn to my Queen to keep it a secret; but perhaps if you know, I may be able to save you."

"Know?" her head was fuzzy. She was so weak... so weak....

"Here." Sephera handed her a piece of ambrosia.

She couldn't manage to even grasp the golden piece of flesh that had sustained her for years.

Sephera sensed it, and instead, placed the sweet fruit to her lips. She managed to take a small bite, it did not require chewing, which she was grateful for. She felt like she could take another bite, and another, until the sliver was gone.

"There." Sephera smiled. "Let that take its course. It won't stop the illness, but it should help you find strength to travel. Listen to me closely, sweet girl. The ambrosia we fae consume was never meant for humans. When Alva found you, we did everything proper for your care-- goats milk, dandelion greens... but one day, when you were three, I found you under the table biting into a piece of ambrosia. Ordinarily this would have cursed your blood, and in adult humans we must seal them away in the dark forest as they degenerate into monsters... but you... you absorbed our magic like a sponge.

Alva took this as a sign, and from that day forward we treated you no different from our own, all the while suspecting what it would mean if you were to leave the forest—Freja, ambrosia is your lifeblood, as it is ours. To leave the forest is a death sentence; and that's why your mother did not bless the marriage. You cannot be with a human, child.... Because you no longer are one."

Sephera pulled a scrap of broken mirror from the floor. "Even if they couldn't see it before, they can now."

Shakily, Freja took the mirror in her hand and looked upon herself for the first time in over a week. Her emerald green eyes had yellowed, and her pupils narrowed as a cat's. Her angular features were starker in greenish skin, and two elk-like horns twisted above her pointed ears.

"No..." her lips began to tremble, renewed energy coursing through her body, allowing her to feel utter despair.

She screamed until her voice ran dry.

------------------------

Alva sauntered into the Arendelle throne room in a wisp of gold dust.

"You called?"

King Aolgeir stopped mid-pace. "Thank you for coming."

He was a large man, not yet deprived of the pride of his youth, but the greying of his beard and the thinning of his hair betraying his aging. The last time Alva had laid eyes upon him, he'd been but a boy... his father before him was a regular guest at her court, but that was another time—when she thought humans could be more than what they were.

"It seems we have a problem, Lady Fae."

"Do we?"

"Your daughter is in love with my son."

"Dear Aolgeir, love must run both ways for it to be 'our' problem."

"Bah! It doesn't matter if they're in love; children make many stupid decisions... the point is, the wars taught us many things, not the least of which is not to trust magical beings. No offense, Queen of summer... but I cannot see a fae child sitting the throne of my hall. Take her back to where she comes from."

"I... see."

"Do you? I know as well as anyone you could use your trickery to brainwash me, sing a pretty song to make me change my mind... but you cannot sway the minds of the people; and the people will not allow a witch-queen. Not again."

"Insult me a third time, sir, and I will no longer consider this visit congenial."

"My apologies, fair queen; I do not have my head. I meant no disrespect—it's just... madness! Absolute madness and I have no time to turn my mind to it, not with the trade talks going south with Florins."

"Yes, I had heard... how fares my daughter?"

"The palace physician, he can be trusted—he says she's gravely ill and may be irreversibly altered by fae magic. There's nothing we can do now. We cannot keep it a secret much longer. If you do not take her home, I cannot protect her."

"I will ask, King Aolgier—only once, does your son love my daughter? I'm sure we can find a peaceful resolution to this if they are truly in love. You shall owe me no debt, and I shall give my word that she will be as 'normal' as pleases you."

"Randolf understands the weight of the crown. He was the one who told me the girl's secret, as soon as he learnt it. Poor lad. He did care for her, but he will not risk it."

"A practical fool. Very well, I will take my daughter from here, and you will be responsible for yourselves."

She turned on her heel.

"Wait—"

Alva glanced back.

"The girl—is she a fae or a witch?"

"It does not matter what she is. If Freja is not good enough for you; you shan't have her."

Alva twisted her magic ring, disappearing from the throne room and manifesting in the palace garden before the boy she recognized as Freja's love.

He started, falling off the bench.

"I am Alva, Queen of Summer, mother to the human girl Freja."

"Randolf, Prince of Arendelle." He stood, dusting himself off.

"Your father summoned me to resolve the case of my daughter, who has become ill from leaving the forest we call home. I wish to ask you a question, young prince: When she leaves this place, will you pursue her?"

"No." he shook his head. "You may take her, madam."

"A young lad who sought a pretty face and demure heart to satisfy his lust for the throne stands before me, then. I am disappointed. Know this, young prince, when you break a woman's heart... there is no power on earth that may save you. I have glimpsed through the eye of fate, and I know what dark path you have set my daughter down; so when the time comes... I will not again be summoned to this place. I shall never enter these halls again nor act on your benefit."

With that, she twisted her ring again to return home.

-------------------

Francis struggled to keep Elsa's mind as Freja mourned the loss of her love. It became increasingly difficult after her return home, where nothing could reach through the dark haze of depression around her. Elsa was almost completely synced with the forlorn girl. He struggled to stay in the diary's illusion, resisting a strong urge to once again pull out of the illusion to let the young queen return to herself.

He felt a light wisp of second magic that gently pried Elsa's conscious from Freja, and for the briefest moment Francis saw the young queen's memories that were synonymous with Freja's—isolation, loneliness, sadness... the fear, so much fear about what she was. He blinked, refocusing on the diary and the moment past. The second wisp wrapped around himself and Elsa like a cushion from the diary's magic, and he recognized Master Belgr's energy. Confused, he continued to read the fae-script. Wasn't the worst over? Why was the Master Abbot working to stabilize them now?

----------------------

Freja wandered the woods. The musty smell of the earth called to her as the trees were sacrificing their green for gold. Nothing about the colors or sounds of the forest reached her, everything was a grey fog. She meandered aimlessly. It was clear to her by now that Randolf was not coming for her. Her love had abandoned her. Fresh tears streamed out of her raw eyes. She was a hideous, twisted monster without love... what joy in life was there left?

She came upon a small lagoon on the edge of the dark forest. None of the fae ever entered the dark forest, but Sephera had said that's where monsters belonged, so it was tempting to step into the dark, gnarled forest and live out her pitiful existence with the misshapen creatures that inhabited it... but the call of the lagoon was stronger. Drowning could be so much like falling asleep.... And all the suffering would be over...

She stepped into the black water, her foot sinking into the mud. She walked forward, her mind blank as she thought of his face, the melodious sound of his voice—and the expression on his face the last night she ever saw him; the expression she was never meant to see...

"Child."

She paused, the water up to her waist.

"Child..."

A cold shiver ran up her spine. There was something so wrong in that voice. It hovered in the air like a bird of prey, waiting to strike.

"Are you lost, daughter of the fae?"

A distinctly female head bobbed up from the water a few feet in front of her. The creature's eyes were as black as the water, and her hair was a stringy green mass that resembles seaweed.

"I am not lost." Freja barely felt the terror making her body tremble. "I have no reason to live."

"Death is what you seek here?" The head quirked an eyebrow. "What a foolish child! Why would someone so young, charged with the power of youth, wish to die?"

"I have nothing to live for." She answered dully. "The man I loved hates what I have become... and so do I. I'd rather have his heart than my life."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." The head lifted above the water, revealing a pale, thin human body barely covered by scraps of cloth. "I see. Well, that is a tragedy! Yes, yes, but you need not kill yourself to end your suffering—you must merely kill your heart."

"What do you mean?"

The creature cackled. "Yes, I can feel your power. If you no longer want your life, I will take it, my dear. I will show you deep, old magic that not even your fae keepers know. Power beyond imagination. You foolishly threw your heart away on a human boy; now, give it to someone who knows what to do with it."

She extended a thin hand with sharp nails, licking her lips. "Make your choice quickly, dearie. I can feel the power of fae coming closer—you're being searched for."

"This magic you know... will I be able to get my Randolf back with it?"

"If you so choose... but I doubt you'll want him back once you learn the secrets I know... I can promise, when you kill your heart and open yourself to the old magic, you will feel no more pain."

"No more pain..." Freja stared at the wrinkling hand extended towards her. "In exchange, you only want my heart?"

"Yes, that's right dearie. You have the word of Sigyn, Witch of the Lagoon."

Freja took the witch's hand, and the waters of the lagoon swallowed them both.

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