Elisa
Elisa knew the second she saw him. Morrigan had changed the guards accompanying her regularly in the years since her father had died, weeding out those who had been loyal to her family, and replacing them with men who were kind enough, but too frightened of the rumors that Morrigan was a witch to ever dare oppose a single command she made. Sometimes Elisa thought Morrigan had intentionally spread the rumors herself, once she'd realized the power it gave her, not that she needed it with magic at play.
The guard they gave her today was nothing like the usual type. He was quiet, but not subservient, and seemed uncomfortable in the uniform he'd been given. Not uncomfortable like a child in his father's suit, the way some of the hired farmboys looked, but as if the uniform were too tight and restricting, like he was used to being more comfortable and casual in his skin. He didn't seem to have any problems with the sword on his hip, but kept shifting his shoulders slightly as if adjusting something that should have been slung there.
After giving him a look, Elisa made him wait there while she got a letter from her dresser. She'd written that letter a year ago, when she'd figured out the Queen's endgame, and she supposed it was long since time. The hag had waited longer than she'd expected.
"Well?" She said to him, with a sort of displeased resignation. "Come on, then. I was going to… pick some flowers in the forest." She gave a snort of derision at that stupid lie, and began walking out of the palace, fully expecting him to follow her.
While she hadn't explicitly planned this excursion to pick flowers, Elisa did take her time going through the forest, picking up a small collection of flowers before making it to her final destination. It was only fitting, after all, that she die where her brothers had.
Elisa stood in front of the burnt little pile of stones where a hut used to stand, the little bouquet of flowers hanging loosely from her fingers. With her back to the huntsman, she leaned down to place her flowers, then turned back around to look at him, and sat down on a smooth little rock she'd dragged over to this exact spot when she'd snuck out to visit their true graves. That was before her father had died, back when Morrigan had still cared about her safety.
She leaned back, palms against the stone, and looked up at the new guard, voice flat. "I've got a lot of questions, but in case you're in a bit of a hurry, can you do me a favor?" The man seemed a little confused, but nodded generously. "After you've killed me, can you give Morrigan this letter?" She waved the old letter at him.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the surprise passed rather quickly, and he took the letter from her fingers with a nod. This one seemed quick to catch on. At least Morrigan hadn't decided to send a total idiot to kill her. He was also somewhat difficult to read, as if being sardonically expressionless was his default.
Since he didn't seem to be the talkative type, Elisa filled up the silence for him. "So if you're not the impatient sort, I guess we have a little time to talk before you kill me. Who are you? Where'd she find you? How much are you getting paid for killing me?"
He twisted his head thoughtfully, giving her questions some thought. "My name is Ivan. I'm a hunter from the Enchanted Forest. It seems she's heard of my reputation as more than just a hunter of animals. She promised me riches, and I left the price to her, since she has her own reputation among certain circles. I didn't feel it was necessary to ask."
Elisa nodded. "That's fair. The Evil Queen does follow through fairly with her deals."
The man pulled his head back slightly, "You call her the Evil Queen?" He asked, though Elisa couldn't pinpoint the emotion on his face motivating the question.
"No," she said with a little laugh, "I call her Morrigan, but y'know," she waved her hand, "that's not the same thing. Morrigan lies. The "Evil Queen" her old thugs whisper about when drunk never breaks a deal. It's uhm, you know… complicated." She laughed again, knowing how utterly inadequate that word was.
"You are calm for someone who the "Evil Queen" wants dead." The man who called himself Ivan offered, looking rather calm himself, for someone having a conversation with the person they were supposed to kill.
Elisa was blunt, "Yeah, well, when I finally figured out she'd killed my father, I figured I wasn't long behind if she wanted true control of High Country. Speaking of, you'd better get to it, soon. It's kind of nerve-wracking waiting for someone to kill you. Get it over with." She looked at him, puckering her lip in an annoyed pout.
He shrugged, then sat down next to her on the ground, clanking awkwardly in his ill-fitting armor. "No one actually said I was going to kill you."
For the first time in this conversation, Elisa was actually surprised. She looked over at him. "You weren't hired to kill me?"
"I was, but what if I decided to spare you?" He asked, not looking at her.
"Spare me? Why? Is your reputation all smoke and mirrors, too?" She asked, genuinely confused, though a tiny shred of relief had wedged itself into her heart.
"No, I have earned my reputation." He said, seriously. "But maybe someone changed my mind."
"What do you mean by that?" Elisa asked, quietly, feeling tired by this exchange and the false hope he was giving her.
Ivan kept his answer simple and to the point, like he'd been doing through most of the conversation. Elisa kind of appreciated that about him. "Well, someone saved the life of a brother of mine, and in exchange, he asked me for a very simple favor. He wanted me to find a girl and tell her that he was doing well and missing her. And he said I would recognize her because she would have dark hair and white skin, red lips like blood against snow. I may be a hunter of men, but even I would be uneasy to kill someone who matters so much to someone who has helped me."
For a long moment, Elisa was stunned into silence. It was true her looks were rather distinctive for any area this far south, but the only people who would send a message like that to her would be one of her brothers. A large lump formed in her throat, choking her into silence as she wrestled to squash the hope that her brothers, even one of them, might still be alive. That was impossible, and if she let herself entertain that hope, she was certain she would just fall apart then and there.
She blinked her black eyes rapidly and turned her face up to hold back the tears. She swallowed carefully, took in a deep breath, and let it out again. Without looking at him, she said quietly, "So if you're not going to kill me, what now?"
"Now?" Ivan said, still thoughtfully, neither of them looking at each other at this point. "Run."
Elisa shook her head. "She'll know you didn't kill me, and then she'll kill you instead. She convinced you to bring back some proof, didn't she?"
"A heart, but a deer's heart should do as well." He paused, and then surprised her by looking at her and asking, "Do you think that would fool her?"
Elisa stopped to think about it, "No, a deer's heart would never fool the Evil Queen, but it might fool Morrigan. I told you. Morrigan lies." Ivan didn't seem to care that that didn't explain anything. He just nodded as if a 15-year-old girl's opinion was perfectly reasonable for a grown man to accept as truth, and stood up without looking at her.
"Go into the Enchanted Forest, Princess," he told her, "and if you survive look for a man named Robin. Good luck."
Elisa watched him go, mulling over the strange conversation they'd had, and still considering what he had told her. She'd never thought of running, but that was because Morrigan was all she had left, if- not that she was trusting that hunter's word fully, but truly if- even one of her brothers was alive, that changed things. Maybe it was worth running, worth looking, worth hoping. She pressed her lips tightly against each other, and the description the hunter had been given came to mind. Red lips and white skin like blood against snow. The phrase had a nice ring to it. If she was going to live life on the run from the Evil Queen, she may as well take on an equally ridiculous title. "Snow White" would do quite nicely.
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