fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Monday

"There are those of us who come here believing very strongly in duty," Ender said. "Others who come here to escape it - and some to who it's absolutely not a part of their lives."

He smiled a little.

"I had a mentor, once," he said. "I was told that people were free, unless humanity needed them, and that humanity never asked us to be happy, merely to act on its behalf - for its survival. Happiness, he felt, was a luxury that at times we could scarcely afford. To opt out of doing our duty at such a time was the worst crime imaginable: a crime of stupidity."

He took a sip of water. "I've met people who disagreed, since," he said. "I've also met people whose lives were so intricately bound to these rules they didn't even know where they stopped and the rules began. Some of you have already made your views fairly clear already, but I'm curious as to everyone else's input, too.

"How important is duty? Do we people all carry some grand responsibility to our species, or should we exist only for ourselves and the development of our self? And if we live for duty, then when does that end? Is there some point where all of us may be afforded personal freedom, or are we perpetually tied to our responsibilities, whether we flee from them or not?"

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"There are only a few years between us," Elsa admitted, "but that doesn't do anything for the concerns that I have about being around her."

The ones that she couldn't actually tell Anna about. And honesty was kind of important if she was hoping to delegate 'ruling a kingdom' duties to her sister.

"Does she know?" Celia had to wonder, quietly. "Your concerns, I mean. She -- if she's old enough to understand them, she might be able to...help you. Both in the sense of your obligations, and in terms of -- anything else."

She was being careful here, but she hoped Elsa took her meaning -- it was much easier to safeguard oneself against a danger they knew about, after all.

Elsa shook her head a little, looking down at the grass. Hello, grass.

"She doesn't, no. She used to, when we were both very little. But she lost those memories, and we were told that it was best that she never find out, that... that sort of thing... remain something she has no exposure to, for her own safety."

And when a magical troll told you that removing magic from your sister's life was the best thing for her, you listened.

Celia sighed, a sharp exhale from her nose due more to frustration with Elsa's situation than anything else. "What she doesn't know can't hurt her, huh?" she said softly, carefully, as she glanced over. "No wonder you're -- you treat those sorts of things differently than I do. I don't have anyone but myself to hurt."

But that was depressing in its own, special way.

"I just can't imagine not...allowing myself any -- release," she added quietly. "I understand why, but it's...it's really a shame, Elsa. Though I feel like it'd be remiss to point out that she isn't here...."

"And then what? Then I embrace it, I get to be whatever it is I am for two years unfettered, before shackling it all up again when I go back to Arendelle?" Elsa exhaled a little, herself. "Assuming I could even learn to control it, assuming I don't make some sort of terrible mistake..."

She frowned. There was really only so much she could protest without just out and saying it.

"If I hurt somebody here, then it will be the same thing all over."

"If you ever want -- " Celia started, balking, and frowned as she tried to code what she was saying. It was a fine line, to say what she wanted without speaking out of turn. "I can probably help," she settled on, shrugging a little. "If you wanted...an outlet. Sometime."

She had no idea if her magic was strong enough to overpower Elsa's if needs be, and playing with that could be dangerous. But at the very least, it was difficult to injure Celia and have it do any lasting damage, and it would be a second set of magic eyes on the situation if things did get out of control.

"I'm tempted," Elsa admitted softly. "That's dangerous."

She set down her water bottle and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her shoulders idly with her hands.

"But I'll consider it. This isn't a no."

Celia nodded, worrying her lower lip for a moment. "Good. Let me know. I just -- I'd hate for you to deny yourself opportunities to really shine. That's all."

It was dangerous, but she was sure she could figure out some safeguards.

Practical Philosophy, Monday

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