CHAPTER ONE
Aboard the HRM Idunn
The eighteen gun, ship-rigged, sloop-of-war HRM Idunn plowed through the waves of the cold North Sea. It was a glorious late September day, all bright sun and brisk ocean breeze, and she was headed home. It had been a brief patrol, a just a short week, and an uneventful one. Still her crew was impatient to return to land and their loved ones. Even her captain was happy to be on the return, and not only because she was currently stuck in her cabin finishing up log entries. For as much as Captain Fitzwilliam loved the sea and loved her ship, she had finally found something — someone — to love more, and that someone was waiting for her - well, would be waiting for her after she finished with the business of being queen. Further, with Anna and Kristoff's extended honeymoon tour of continental Europe scheduled to end soon, Fitz wanted to get in as much private time as she could with Elsa.
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Anna and Kristoff, too. It was just that time with Elsa when her sister was around was often not particularly private. Anna was a brilliant whirlwind of energy, who acted with limited forethought and never backed down from a challenge, qualities Fitz recognized and appreciated in herself. Kristoff was as stalwart and steadfast a man as Fitz had ever met, someone who would make a tremendous First Officer, or in Anna's case a patient husband. However no matter what their charms, having Elsa to herself — sharing her only with the small rather sleepy kingdom that was Arendelle — had been a treat, and one Fitz intended to savor for every last moment.
That lovely thought was interrupted by a knock at her cabin door.
"Enter." Fitzwilliam was seated behind her desk in her rather spartan cabin, which lacked the ornate teak furniture and thick oriental rugs she had enjoyed on her last ship, The Vigilant. She didn't look up from the illegible scrawl that was her logbook, but she did hear her door open and close smartly.
"Captain."
Now she looked up. Midshipman Anker, their newest recruit, was standing rigidly braced at attention.
"Mr. Anker?"
Anker was on his first assignment in Arendelle's navy although nearly a man at sixteen. Arendelle started its officers at an older age than Fitz was used to and kept them longer too, if the graying cadre of other Captains was any indication. He was a capable lad, reasonably strong, reasonably smart, but he was shy. Most new midshipman were, but Anker suffered the triple threat of being shy, being a young man just starting to appreciate that women came in flavors other than his mother, and being a Midshipman aboard a sloop-of-war whose captain was a woman.
It wasn't as if most people would correctly guess Fitz's gender even on the second meeting, hidden as it was under layers of linen, silk and wool. She looked like most officers of her station, tanned, broad-shouldered, tall, with an air of competence and surety that bordered on arrogance. But Anker knew that she was a woman, a mysterious and vaguely notorious woman, one whom several ladies of his acquaintance tittered over, and that accentuated his shyness. And so, he was always on the losing end of a battle to keep his eyes and mind fixed where they needed to be on board ship.
"Mr. Anker."
The boy jumped at edge in her voice and pulled his gaze up from where he was staring at the small miniature of the queen that the Captain kept on her desk. Fitz reached out and snapped shut the waterproof case that enclosed it.
"If you please, Midshipman."
Anker began in a nervous rush, "Captain, Mr. Meilde reports that we've sighted the fjord's mouth, sir. He estimates an hour to the harbor at our current speed."
Fitz raised an eyebrow at the young man. In Avalon respects would be tendered with any message to a captain or there would be hell to pay. More specifically this Captain preferred not to be called "sir," a point she had already made more than once to this particular midshipman.
Indeed she was the first woman in Arendelle's navy. She had also been the first woman in Avalon's, and she remembered well the struggles she had faced over everything from proper uniforms to the proper manner of address. It hadn't been until she had a command of her own that she had managed to be addressed consistently in accordance with her gender, but once she had that command, she had prevailed. Now that she had her own command here, she had no intention of losing that hard earned ground.
"Send Mr. Meilde my compliments and tell him I'll be joining him momentarily." Then more sternly she continued, "And I'll thank you to please remember the form of address I prefer."
"Aye, aye ..." Mr. Anker hesitated a moment, blushed, and Fitz mouthed the word 'ma'am' ... "Ma'am."
Small victories were still a step in the right direction. "Good man. Rightly done. We'll make an officer of you yet, Mr. Anker."
The boy nodded again and flung himself out the door to make his escape. Fitz waited to chuckle until the door shut behind him and his boots sounded heavy on the ladder to the deck. She could remember being that boy, although in a very different Navy. Then she stood and began to pack up her log book in its heavy oilskin.
The differences between Avalon and Arendelle were stark. Avalon was constantly at war, Arendelle had been at peace for hundreds of years. Arendelle replaced inedible salted beef with inedible pickled fish as the shipboard meal of choice. But most notably Avalon was a nation with a society that relished formality, with rigid class structures that were equally in place on land or sea. In Arendelle, relationships between the crew and the officers, and junior officers with their superiors were much less formal. There were, Fitz realized, many reasons for this. Arendelle had almost no aristocracy to draw its officers from. There was a baron or two and one foreign born count, but most of the naval officers came from the merchant class, as did much of the crew. Further Arendelle was very small, and so everyone knew everyone. There was a certain informality that came when everyone knew the name of the first girl you'd kissed, and whether or not you were her first. Arendelle's size and history had left it with egalitarian attitudes, although nothing so extreme as the Americans or — Fitz held back the urge to spit on her cabin floor at the thought of Avalon's traditional enemy — the Gauls.
Add to this fact, all of Arendelle's crew were volunteers unlike Avalon where more than one man had been snatched from his peaceful life ashore and thrust unwillingly onto a ship and into a war. Knowing that more than half your crew were essentially prisoners did make for a more tense relationship with them. Lastly there was the example of Arendelle's own royalty. Rigid formality had no place in a kingdom where the Princess was known for her pig catching, pie destroying, unintentional fjord swimming ways, as well as being always eager to help the townsfolk, and the Queen held skating parties in her courtyard and did her own decorating. With her own magic.
Fitz reopened the miniature case, looked at the image of her beloved, and mused that the events that led her into treason and exile were a blessing in disguise. The little painting itself had been its own tiny battle, but one that Fitz had finally won. It wasn't that Elsa wasn't used to having her portrait painted. Portraits were almost a weekly obligation for the queen. But this wasn't like her other portraits, her official portraits.
True, she was standing in a three quarters pose as was traditional, hands demurely clasped at her waist, and the queen was always beautiful, no matter who the artist. However instead of bulky robes of state, in this portrait Elsa was wearing the ice dress that she wore everyday, a dress that always figured prominently in Fitz's thoughts of her. Her expression was not the solemn look she affected for official portraits, gaze fixed at some nether distance, face carefully neutral and serious. No, what made this image one of Fitz's most treasured possessions was that here Elsa was relaxed and happy, the woman Fitz felt blessed to have come to know. This Elsa had a sure, almost sly smile, and eyes that sparkled with intelligence and more than a little mischief. It was the look that reminded Fitz she was the lucky one to find someone this strong, this adventurous. And, it was the look that Fitz saw at night in the flickering candle light.
"Captain! Captain!" This time the door to her cabin slammed open, and Midshipman Anker was gasping as he flung himself through. "Mr. Meilde says you must come immediately, sir."
Something in Anker's tone told Fitz this was not the time for niceties, and she charged out of her cabin and up the main ladder with a speed that matched the urgency in Anker's voice.
Her head had only just emerged from the hatch when she saw it. A swirl of ominous black clouds ahead of them to the east, right where the main port of Arendelle would be. Right where the castle would be. Right where Elsa would be.
As Fitz took her place on the quarterdeck the temperature fell and the wind gusted. She reflexively looked to the Idunn's sails. They billowed, and then a freezing wind began swirling snow flakes in a frenzied spiral around the mastheads. It was late September; much to early for snow, even in Arendelle. The crew were all staring wide-eyed up at the sky, some frightened, some just amazed, but all unnerved. They had seen this before.
Fitz made a quick calculation and then a prayer that her faith in the ship was well placed. The safe thing to do was to take down some sail in the face of the rising storm, but she was in a hurry.
"Commander Meilde!" She bellowed over the shriek of the wind at her first officer. "T'gallants, if you please, then raise the royals. Best speed possible for home!"
Castille, the last stop on the honeymoon tour (two weeks earlier)
"Anna. You're dragging me away from a ball to visit," Kristoff looked to his wife, Princess Anna of Arendelle, in disbelief, "the stable?"
The Castillian summer night was quite warm, but it was cooler here in the gardens than in the stuffy ballroom. Lively music wafted from the castle. Isabella, the young queen of Castille, knew how to throw a party, and it was packed with nobility from the entire realm. Everyone had wanted to see the newly-wedded Prince and Princess of Arendelle, whose sister just also happened to magically control ice and snow. In fact, Kristoff and Anna had caused a stir wherever they had gone in continental Europe.
"You're the one who thinks reindeer are better than people." Anna replied tucking her arm through Kristoff's as they walked. "And horses are sort of like reindeer. So, I thought they might make good company, too. And after tonight, I'm really up for some 'not people' company. I mean except for you."
"So it was the Castillian royalty who finally did you in," Kristoff chuckled. When they had started their honeymoon grand tour, a gift from Elsa, Anna had been excited to meet everyone, see everything, do everything. But after three months of balls and formal dinners and receiving lines even Anna seemed ready to go home. Kristoff himself had already been ready, ready before Castille, ready before Allmany, possibly ready before even the first stop in Stockholm.
"Especially that awful man, the queen's cousin. Or is he an uncle? Carlos. Ugh. You know, when they told me I would meet the Infante Carlos, I figured he was a baby. And I would have enjoyed hanging out with a baby. Who knew it meant that 'annoying stuck up full of himself scheming royal person who will never get near the throne because no one trusts him'?"
Kristoff laughed heartily, "And here I thought you were sad because you only got one dance with him."
"Hmph!" Anna snorted. "Fortunately I learned all I needed to know about driving away dance partners from the Duke of Weaseltown. I'm a master of the trodden toe."
Kristoff pulled her to him and wrapped her in his arms. "A little stepping on my toes wouldn't keep me away. Not from a beautiful woman like you."
"Oh, you smooth talker."
"I am getting better at that, aren't I?" Kristoff pointed at himself with a cocky flip of his wrist.
"You are getting better at everything," Anna sighed with a fond smile. Then she realized what she had said. "Not that you were bad, you know, at everything. Or anything. Really you were quite good. Are good. I mean really good. Gooder than I expected."
"Even at," Kristoff lowered his head to whisper softly in her ear, "diplomacy."
Anna gave his arm a playful smack. "Yes, diplomacy, too." Then she raised her head high. "I think we've both been good. Elsa will be so pleased when we get back. I can't wait to tell her about all the markets we've found for timber and fish."
"And ice," Kristoff added. How could she forget ice?
"Of course ice. That was a given. Especially since I have the "ice master" at my side."
"Ice master? Is that what I am?"
"Yes. Prince Kristoff of Arendelle, the Master of Ice."
"Kinda hard to be THE master of ice in a kingdom with your sister."
"Pshaw! She's the queen of ice and snow. There's a huge difference."
"There is?"
Anna thought. "Well, for one she never scratches me with her beard when she kisses me."
"That's the best you can do? We're talking about my finer points and all you can think of is my scratchy face," Kristoff pouted.
"I didn't say I didn't like it," Anna explained. "I mean it's all manly and stuff, and every prince I've seen has been jealous of you, well except for Edmund and he was jealous of me, you know 'cause you're all hairy and tall and strong and manly, and that's certainly one thing Elsa isn't is manly — or hairy, I mean except on her head - and - and how did we get on this subject again?"
"I dunno," Kristoff shrugged. He was quite used to Anna's stream of consciousness conversations, "but I think we should test this manly beard scratching during kissing thing. See if still holds."
Anna batted her eyelashes and leaned in closer. "Why, Your Highness. What a delightful ..." she stopped when she heard the rustle of straw, and sighed. "I thought the stable would be deserted," Anna grumbled at the retreating silhouette of a what was probably a groom.
"Hey, you picked the stable. Not me."
"I guess we can walk out to the -"
Suddenly a voice rang out. "Princess Anna?"
"Nuts," Anna groused. "They found us."
A man in the livery of the castle appeared at the other side of the barn. "Princess Anna? You're being requested at the castle."
"Just stay here." Anna winked at Kristoff. "I'll be right back, and we can find an even more secluded spot in the garden. Old Infante was talking about a gazebo that was very romantic in the moonlight."
"Sure thing," Kristoff nodded.
Once Anna had left with the servant, Kristoff walked slowly to the nearest stall and gently stroked the nose of the horse tied there. Anna was right, it was nice to be back around the relative sanity of horses. Sure they could be skittish and delicate, but compared to your average royal courtier they were the very soul of stolid sanity.
But he also had to admit this trip had been magnificent. Neither he nor Anna had been outside of Arendelle before, well he had gone briefly to Sweden with Fitz, but he had been in fear for his life most of the time and so didn't count that. The world outside of Arendelle was amazing. Beautiful, frantic, imposing, often the same, and sometimes so very different. Sure he knew they only saw the best of what each Kingdom had to offer, but then he also knew what poverty looked like, and he suspected it was the same everywhere. He had no need to repeat that experience.
Best of all he was with Anna. He had always cherished her as a friend. She was fun and crazy and unbelievably loyal and loving. But as a wife, she was all this and more. Every morning he woke up and thought how lucky he was. He had the beautiful brilliant fun princess by day, and the beautiful brilliant oh so alluring princess at night. The snoring, messy hair, and tendency to drool when sleeping were just bonuses on top of that.
Speaking of which, he thought, where was Anna? It had been more than the few minutes she had promised.
Kristoff started back up the dark path to the castle. She had probably gotten trapped into another dance with someone. There were all these confusing rules about having to dance with strange people or you couldn't dance at all, and while Kristoff had decided not knowing the rules was to his advantage since then he didn't have to follow them, apparently someone "born as a Princess" couldn't claim ignorance.
Kristoff could see the castle in the distance but the light shining in the windows fell far short of illuminating the path here. In the dark he kicked something. He picked it up. It was a fan. It was Anna's fan. That was odd, he thought.
Arendelle Harbor – Navy Dock
Fitz jumped off the Idunn as soon as it touched the quay. She had tendered her salute to the colors even before that. She started for the castle at a sprint as the snowfall began to intensify. On the way she could hear the townsfolk confused and concerned, mostly they were saying "the queen, is she alright?"
When she got inside, where apparently most of the staff had not noticed the unusual weather, she found out that the Queen was in an audience with a messenger that had come and insisted that his missive could be delivered only to the her and no one else. The messenger was from Avalon. Fitz didn't wait to hear more. She took the stairs up the main stair case two at a time headed for the throne room.
Castle Courtyard, Castille (two weeks earlier)
"Anna?" Kristoff called out as he walked swiftly back to the castle, holding her fan. "Are you OK?"
"She's fine, my friend."
Kristoff whipped around to find himself face to point with a very sharp sword, inches from his right eye. The man who wielded it was in the livery of the castle but partially masked, a wide brimmed hat obscuring his eyes.
"Who the hell are you? Where's Anna?"
"Never mind who I am." The man answered tersely. "But unless you wish to die right here, you will cooperate with us. You and your beautiful princess will be safe as long as you both behave."
Kristoff heard the sound of grunting and a struggle. Both he and the other man were surprised when Anna appeared, a ruffian unsuccessfully trying to subdue her. She grabbed at the hands that were wrapped around her waist, pulled and twisted hard. Kristoff heard a sick crackle and then a howl as the ruffian dropped to his knees. Anna then turned and kicked him so hard that he fell backward into a heap. His companions moved backwards away from her, each exhorting the other to step in.
"Run Kristoff! Run!" She shouted.
The man with the sword stepped half a pace forward.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He held his gaze on Kristoff as he called out more loudly. "Princess, unless you want your man without an eye, or perhaps without a head, you'll calm down and stop fighting. We really only need you. Our pay's the same if he dies."
"What?" Anna stopped, still ready to flee down the path to the castle. But after one exchanged glance with Kristoff, she sagged and raised her hands. Another ruffian roughly pulled her back into the shadows. As Kristoff was pulled after her, he thought. 'I knew we should have returned to Arendelle after the last ball.'
Arendelle Castle, the Throne Room
"What is the meaning of this?" Elsa's voice was a taut crystalline whisper, every word forced through tight lips, barely audible over the frigid wind that swirled in her throne room. Part of her still couldn't believe it. Anna and Kristoff kidnapped while on their honeymoon? This man delivering the demand that she arrest Fitz and send her back to Avalon in exchange for her sister's safe return? But the other part of Elsa heard and believed him entirely. It was everything she had feared and expected, all of her worries come to pass. And the fury that came with this realization threatened to overwhelm her. She didn't even try to fight her magic.
Elsa clenched her fist and then the messenger in front of her was covered in ice to his knees. The ice slowly expanded upward.
"Wha – wha – what the message says, Your Majesty," the young man stuttered both from fear and the rising cold. "I – I am a diplomatic messenger from His Grace Allan, the Duke of Ledsham. And he begs you to right a grievous wrong you have perpetrated on his family by harboring that criminal Fitzwilliam."
"Diplo -" Now Elsa stuttered in rage. "Diplomatic! What kind of diplomacy involves kidnapping my sister and her husband. Holding them hostage? Threatening their lives?"
"If you turn over Fitzwilliam, no harm will come to the Princess."
"Oh, she had better not be harmed, or you and the blackguard who sent you will be digging yourselves, your lands — the entire kingdom of Avalon out of the snow for the next hundred years."
"If you turn over Fitzwilliam -"
The ice crackled as it spread across the messenger's chest and up his neck. "Please, please," he begged. "You can't -"
"Oh, can't I?" Elsa started forward, her magic demanding to end this, to end the man himself. It would be so easy.
"Your Majesty!" The doors burst open and Captain Fitzwilliam herself burst through, dragging two guards behind as they tried to stop her. "Elsa!" Fitz took a look at the tableau in front of her. "Elsa, stop! This isn't you!"
Elsa swung her icy gaze around at Fitz, and stared at her for a long moment. She flicked her fingers and the messenger dropped to the floor as the ice holding him disappeared.
"Seize Captain Fitzwilliam and take her to the dungeons," she ordered.
