The girl wearing armour rose and from somewhere else a man in a dark clothing approached and the bells were still calling, the mighty sound of them breaking the night into pieces, and even though her breathing had slowed down her heart was still beating and her mind was telling her to not turn her back at the darkness and -
Elsa took a deep breath and something inside her shifted, moved out of the way, and suddenly her thoughts and mind were clear again. It left her suddenly a little confused, because where there had been confusion, there was nothing. Her mind was so still it was almost eerie. She noted this, coolly deciding that pondering this had to wait for another day.
Turning her eyes to the short woman beside her again, Elsa frowned at her. Something about her still bewildered her, something felt off, but she couldn't place what it was. She was slight, but she carried herself with confidence and the smile she directed at Elsa was probably supposed to be calming. The only problem was that Elsa was neither interested or inclined to be calmed. She knew what had attacked her was dangerous and there were probably more out there, but she was also quite convinced that she could do more good out here than cooped up somewhere, hiding. She might not be able to fully control whatever it was that made ice and fire come, but if she could make it follow her will, she would most assuredly do more good here. "No," she answered softly, lowering her gaze to her hand. Looking at it she thought about fire, about hot flickering tongues of sizzling fire and after a moment she was pleasantly surprised when fire suddenly appeared in the palm of her hand, licking her skin, but doing no more damage than a ray of sunlight. Perhaps she could make this work after all.
When the dark man came closer, the flames died out instantly. In her haven of steady calm, Elsa was still suddenly cold on the inside. He was just a dark figure, the faint light giving only a hint of a strong jaw and a dark complexion, but his words, the glinting metal of his daggers...it was faintly familiar. She wanted to explain, to try and describe the creature she had fought, but she found, face to face with this dark man, that it was all she could do not to look away, to look down and lower her head. Since she could not understand it, she fought the urge, seeing no rational reason why this man would make her feel so suddenly unimportant and insignificant. She just stood there mutely, head held proudly but eyes lowered to the ground, her long dark eyelashes trailing her pale cheek.