Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Frozen or anything else surrounding the franchise. They belong to the creative forces behind Disney.

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AN: This story was published once before but unfortunately it was taken down when Soulless Warlock was banned from the site. Rather than see it die out too soon, I decided to take up the mantle of the story (with the original author's permission) and run with it.

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Queen Elsa of Arendelle sat on her throne, her right hand balled into a fist and pressed gently against her face. If she was trying to be funny, she would've made some allusion to King Lear. However, she was in no mood to invoke some reference to Shakespeare, much less one of the Bard's more tragic masterpieces.

Especially when she was dealing with a situation (crisis was the wrong word) that could lead to a crisis that could snowball into a tragedy. Perhaps not one of Shakespearian proportions, but a tragedy nonetheless.

The young queen looked at the paper that rested in her left hand a distinctly non King Lear prop and read over the letter again. It was affixed by the seal of the King of Weselton, the Duke's elder and far more amiable brother, if the letter in her hand was any indication.

Queen Elsa of the House of Stenkil, by the time this letter reaches you, I hope that your anger toward Weselton has subsided.

Fat chance of that, but that was something she would keep to herself.

Though, if I were you, I would still be furious.

Turns out the King was a mind reader.

I cannot ask you to forgive and forget, I can only ask that you maintain an open mind. I feel that your decision to end our trade agreement was a mistake, though a mistake that I would've made in my youth.

There was a sarcastic retort in there somewhere, but Elsa decided to let it rest. King Florian had done nothing to either offend or harm her; until further notice, the old man wasn't responsible for his brother's actions. Every man and woman in this world was responsible for their own actions. Of that, Elsa knew better than anyone.

I feel that there is a chance, no matter how miniscule, to set things right. I plan to send an envoy in place of myself, in hopes that we can amend this fracture in what was once a strong and prosperous relationship.

It was that section of the letter that made Elsa blanch ever so slightly before she took a deep breath and thawed the arm of her throne. Her father had once taught her that, sometimes, a monarch was left with no choice but to face down the lesser of two evils.

She recalled a rather contentious period in her adolescence when her father had faced down the Queen of Northumbria, Maud III, over a young woman that had sought refuge in Arendelle. The girl had been the disgraced former wife of Northumbria's heir and Queen Maud had offered a title to any man or woman that brought the young woman's head to her.

When King Agdar had decreed anyone in Arendelle who took Queen Maud up on her offer would spend the rest of their short lives in the blackest of prison cells, the old queen had decided to confront the young king in his own domain. Elsa had not asked her father what had been said at this meeting but she remembered that the disgraced woman was sent back to her family in Northern Isles and Queen Maud had returned to Northumbria in anger. However, this anger had not brought war to Arendelle, merely bitter feelings.

Elsa, however, had asked her father why he had risked Arendelle's safety for a disgraced princess, he had replied, "Sometimes, when our choices are robbed from us, we have to look at the real matter at hand. What is a greater evil, Elsa, adultery or war?"

"War," she had replied, although her theology tutor would argue both crimes were great evils. Perhaps he was right, but if one weighed human life against human pride, the choice was clear.

"Northumbria and the Northern Isles would've gone to war had this girl died. And that war may have spilled down to us. I could not allow that to happen when the girl had sanctuary here and I won't allow for other people to die because one person committed a foul deed. A monarch must often choose between the lesser of two evils for the good of their people and, sometimes, they must look out for the good of all people."

Elsa very rarely had the opportunity to reflect on those words until the day of her coronation. She had made what she felt was the wisest choice for the sake of her people by removing herself (the greater of two evils) though she hadn't found a second evil at the time (and she had almost condemned them to being ruled by Hans). She still hated herself a little bit for doing that to them.

Still, why was she even going to the trouble to worry about this envoy? It wasn't as if it was some sort of prelude to war. Florian I of Weselton was famous for choosing the most peaceful methods of conflict resolution, not unlike the long dead Christian I of Weselton. There was no way he was planning to invade Arendelle.

Though Florian was very old and, if what Lord Erikson had was said about him was true, had not left his castle at Stillwater in more than five years. The Duke could easily be ruling Weselton as its de facto head of state. He would definitely call down all of his might, with this envoy sent in as a smokescreen.

She felt the temperature of her throne go down as she pulled herself out of another panic, quickly assessing the damage to the room. Nothing seemed to be out of order, though she confessed she kept the throne room rather stark for just such a reason.

The envoy is Aleksander Strand, my nephew by my youngest brother, Prince Jon Strand, Lord Paramount of the Northern Reach. Despite his youth, he is most assuredly qualified to negotiate a new possible treaty.

He should arrive within three days' time. I hope that you will show him the same goodwill that you showed my brother before he unfortunately took advantage of it. I give you my word that he will be far more agreeable than my brother. Sincerely, King Florian I of the House of Strand.

Elsa folded the letter and rested it onto the arm of her throne. The letter outright confirmed the choice of whether or not to agree of the envoy's arrival was out of her hands, but it also confirmed that she was the one holding the true power. She would decide if she was going to uphold her decree or to rescind it.

What was it about Arendelle that made Weselton want to remain in partnership with them? They were not a major military power, nor were they the wealthiest kingdom, nor were they a needed political ally, so what could it be?

That question made her smile.

'What'd you know?'

She had a task before her: There was a reason Weselton wanted Arendelle in their fold and she wanted to learn the reason before she made a decision on this new trade agreement.

"Kai!" she called out to her chamberlain, who was quickly in the room.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa stood up and walked down the steps that lead to her throne. "I need you to send a message to Lord Erikson."

Lord Erikson was her mother's closest cousin (more of an uncle, if anything, to her and Anna) and he had served as regent for Arendelle during Elsa's minority. He was a clever man, but more importantly, he had a vast network of intelligence that stretched from Arendelle to Corona. If anyone had any information on this envoy, it would be him.

"I wish for him to meet with me at the Snow Garden. I have to ask something of him."

"Do you wish me to go immediately?" Kai asked.

"Yes," Elsa said. 'Best to find him and get answers before this man arrives.'

"Very well, my Queen," the older man declared before turning on his heel and exiting the throne room.

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Johan Strand, the Duke of Weselton was not a man who scared easily. One did not survive the world of court in his kingdom by being craven, it was an empirical fact. That did not mean he didn't feel fear, that the gnawing feeling of dread didn't bubble up within him, it just didn't happen easily and would remain that way until they nailed his coffin shut.

But, every once and a while, there was a cloud that would cast itself upon him and make him shake with uncontrollable terror. Each time it happened, it corresponded with his elder brother, King Florian I of House Strand's darker moods. The older man was not prone to fits of anger, so to provoke one would mean that his enemy (or sibling) was calling down the wrath of God upon their heads.

"The king will see you now, your Majesty," announced Sir Lionel Lockwood, getting the Duke's attention.

He stood up, hoping that the sweat on his brow hadn't melted away the spirit gum that held his toupee onto his head. It was one thing to look foolish to a naive young queen but to an old, seasoned politician like his brother, he knew he couldn't seem intimidated.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the throne room. He had been in the room on numerous occasions in his 70-odd years of life and each time he ever entered it, he had one of two feelings; one of incomprehensible delight and the other of incomprehensible dread. Right now, he was feeling the latter.

While he knew that his brother would never raise his hand and strike a fatal blow, if the older man had to choose between the welfare of Weselton and his brother, the Duke knew which option the King would choose.

And so, Johan Strand, the Duke of Weselton, Lord Paramount of the Southern Point, Heir to the Throne, and Strand First Ascending, bowed to his Lord Sovereign as the timeworn green eyes of King Florian I Strand, Lord Paramount of the Empire, Defender of the Realm and Protector of the Faith looked down at him with a look he could not discern. Maybe that was a good thing, he would know until his brother began to speak.

"Before you say a word, you will allow me to speak," the King commanded, choosing to remain on his throne as his younger brother knelt before him, the younger of the two praying that his toupee didn't fall off. "What in the name of all that was good and holy possessed you to order the assassination of the Queen of Arendelle?"

Johan went to speak, only for his brother to silence him with a simple raise of the hand.

"I'm not finished." Florian had always been known to have an even temper, a trait that he shared with their departed lady mother, but today was a day that he reminded Johan of their late royal father. "By all counts, I should hand you back to Queen Elsa. But, she has found it in her heart to return you to Weselton. And not empty-handed, I hear."

The monarch of Arendelle had ended their longstanding trading alliance with Weselton, an alliance that Florian himself had established with the girl's grandmother, Queen Sonia, only decades earlier.

"Your Maesty," Johan began, "if I may speak freely?"

"For the sake of the mother who bore us, I will allow you to speak. But, be quick about it. I have to bandage this wound and make sure our other allies don't view this disaster as some sort of expression of intent."

"I understand that I made a critical mistake," Johan said. "However, I believe that there is a chance to make amends."

"Do you now?" Florian asked, sarcasm dripping off of his voice.

"Yes," Johan said. "The Queen does not seem to be a woman possessed of a malicious spirit. She allowed for Prince Hans to be returned to the Southern Isles and she allowed for me to return to Weselton."

"Something I feel was more to punish me for sending you there in the first place."

Johan chose to ignore his brother's comment. "We may be able to use that to our advantage."

"''We?'" Florian asked. "No, no, no, that is not happening."

"But, I am the Duke of Weselton. The Duke always -"

"Do not presume to tell me who will work on point with this assignment," commanded Florian. "Your presence would only serve to enrage Queen Elsa. I would prefer not to infuriate a woman with control over ice."

"She cannot control it," Johan countered. "I saw that for myself."

Florian was silent for a split-second. "All the more reason for you to remain here. That is final."

Despite Florian's acceptance of counsel during his near fifty-year reign, his word remained the law of the land. Johan had long learned to accept this, but that did not mean he had to like it. That was the one thing Florian could not take away from him.

"Who do you plan on sending instead of me?" The list of candidates was numerous and, no doubt, Florian had put a lot of thought into his choice. Perhaps it had been unwise to feign illness in order to stay away from the Capitol in the first weeks back to Weselton. He had allowed his brother to gain an edge.

"I have thought about it," Florian answered. "It's a sensitive mission and I have to find someone who can be trusted."

"Lady Ravenwood?" Johan asked. The chief councilor on foreign affairs was a childhood friend of the king and a negotiator without peer. "Is it wise for her to be traveling so soon?"

"No," Florian answered. "Which is why I didn't ask her. And, before you ask, it will one of my councilors, but he will be closer to me than merely political connection. You'll have to earn your way back into my circle of trust some other way."

What could he mean by that Johan wondered, but he kept his thoughts to himself? If it wasn't any of the councilors, all men and women Florian trusted implicitly, who could be on their way to Arendelle that was close to king?

"I've sent Aleksander," Florian answered, a ghost of smile forming on the king's lips before he answered Johan's second, unspoken question, "I've been able to read your face since we were children, Johan, and that's why I've always been able to beat you to the punch."

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Outside of the palace, in the Snow Garden, Lord Harald Erikson was watching Olaf stand motionless in the eternal winter wonderland that the Queen had created after what many in Arendelle were calling The Great Thaw. Despite only just getting used to the odd little snowman's presence and sentience, Lord Erikson had begun to notice things about him. One of those things was an acute sense of the Queen or the Princess' location – actual or intended. Olaf had been in the Snow Garden for over 20 minutes and showed no signs of moving. That gave Erikson an idea that one of the royal sisters would appear shortly.

"Hello, Olaf," he finally called gently.

Olaf turned to greet him, his stick arm waving gleefully.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No," the tiny snowman said, "I'm just waiting for Anna or Elsa. One of them will be here before you know it."

Lord Erikson smiled at the snowman. He had taken a shine to Olaf in the short time he had known him. Though, he did, sometimes, question the lucidity of the naive little creature. Sometimes, he questioned whether or not he, himself, was mad for even speaking to Olaf. It most likely didn't matter, in the end.

"Lord Erikson?"

He looked up and bowed to his queen, watching Elsa cross from the winter garden's icy entrance.

"Hey, Elsa!" Olaf cried happily. "You come to play?"

Elsa sighed, turning back to Olaf. "Unfortunately, I can't today, Olaf," she said, Olaf's normally jolly features falling. "But, I may be able to get an hour of my time to spend with you tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"I promise." This seemed to pacify Olaf. "But, I have to speak Lord Erikson about some important matters."

"Of course," Olaf said, turning away. "Just pretend I'm not even here. But, even if I was, you wouldn't have to worry. I'm very good at keeping secrets. Did you know that Anna broke off the ear to one of the busts and glued it back on?"

"No, I didn't know that," Elsa replied, Erikson observed her face. Her expression told him she was both furious at Anna for covering up her act and was, at the same time, impressed such a thing had escaped her notice.

"Cause I wasn't supposed to tell you." Olaf paused for a second. "Wait, I'm not good at keeping secrets. I remember now, because I told you all about Kristoff being able to sneak into-"

"Olaf!" Elsa silenced him, her stricken look crossing her features.

Erikson found himself chuckling at her distress. He had once been young and in love, so he would never be scandalized by anything the little snowman might reveal – though he did not like to think of his little princess in such a way.

Elsa, however, seemed more bothered than amused. "What if I decided on two hours tomorrow? Would that make you leave the garden?"

"Sure," Olaf declared, waddling off as if the conversation had never happened.

Elsa rubbed her forehead, as if she had managed to get a very curious and talkative child out of the room. He remembered those days well, so he couldn't blame her. The Queen took a deep breath and turned to him.

"Thank you for seeing me," she said.

"It's my pleasure, your highness," he said. "What is it you need from me?"

She handed him the letter. Erikson pulled out his reading glasses and began to examine the contents of the letter. It was, most definitely, written in King Florian's hand and bore his seal. He would occasionally look up at Elsa, who seemed to want to ask him something.

"This letter is official, and he moved quickly. Knowing that by the time it arrived to your hand, you wouldn't be able to send a reply." It was smart. Dirty, but smart.

"What can you tell me about the envoy?" she asked once he had set the letter on the bench.

"Well, in addition to being a member of the royal family, he's a member of Weselton's foreign affairs council. He replaced Lord William Darry around the same time of your coronation. From what my sources at court have told me, he's one of the more progressive minds on the council and he's incredibly persistent when it comes to his country's interests."

"Do you think he's a threat?" she asked.

"My sources have no found no evidence that he's a danger to anyone," Erikson said carefully. He had made it a habit to keep track of all the members of the surrounding royal families. If only to make sure they were not threats to Arendelle.

Elsa seemed to read into his hesitation. "Say what you mean."

"He may be wearing a very clever disguise. Prince Hans seemed rather fond of that disguise and the royal court of Weselton is more backstabbing than the one in the Southern Isles."

"So, I should be on my guard?"

"Conceal," Erikson said, "but feel. Remember that your instincts are much better than you give them credit." Elsa opened her mouth to protest. "You saw through Prince Hans and kept your distance from the Duke, this envoy, if he is false, will reveal his true self to you in due time. I apologize for interrupting you a moment ago, your majesty."

"That's more than alright," Elsa said. "I thank you for the information."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Yes," Elsa said. "I feel rather foolish for having not asked this before but, do you know why Weselton and Arendelle entered into a trade alliance?"

"If I remember correctly, it was because, at the time, Weselton's merchant ships had a rather unenviable issue with pirates."

"Through the Western Gulf," Elsa said. "I remember reading about that."

"Indeed. Well, Arendelle is a relatively obscure point. The pirate kings and their captains don't really even consider us a place to attack."

"Thankfully."

"Indeed. So, your grandmother and the Duke of Weselton at the time, King Florian now, met up and they hammered out an agreement. It's a longer journey, but a safer one. This allowed for them to trick the pirates and make the Western Gulf a safer place to travel. But, you already knew this."

"I do," she said. "That's official story. The one that Grandmother told Arendelle and my father. But, what was the unofficial story?"

"The unofficial story?" he asked. "You mean to tell me that you don't believe the story your grandmother told the people of our fair country?"

"No. I just know that every story out there has an added layer."

Erikson nodded to his queen. "That is usually the case. I don't know the unofficial reason. But I can always find out."

"Thank you," Elsa said quietly as Erikson stood up and began to walk toward the edge of the gardens.

He turned back to the Snow Queen. "Your Majesty, if an old man could speak freely."

"You are far from old, Lord Harald," she stated, "but you may speak."

"I know that you believe there will be some sort of repeat of your coronation." He was quick to continue speaking before Elsa could even open her mouth. "I know you well, my queen, and I've seen you with your council, imagine it is like that and everything will be fine."

"That might not be the case," Elsa stated.

"How so?"

"I hope I don't fall asleep during this meeting."

Erikson chuckled with her and exited the garden, leaving Elsa behind.

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