Frozen and all its content belongs to Disney. References and other mentioned names, products, brands and all other licenses belong to their respective owners. I only own my OC's. This story is purely written for entertainment and hobby purposes. English is not my native language.
Thank you for giving this read a chance, and I hope you'll enjoy reading this.
One day, a strange ranger shows up in Arendelle and in his attempt to help, causes quite the stir. Apparently he comes from a nation that has shut itself off from the rest of the world. Which leaves Elsa with mysteries. Why is he here? What is he hiding? And why does he have an owl as a pet? Elsa/OC, KristAnna. Post-Frozen.
Cover is Art by Bill Fleming/KomodoEmpire on DeviantArt
Frozen : The Lost Kingdom.
Chapter 1 – Return to Arendelle.
Winters in the northern lands were always cold and harsh. The kingdom named Arendelle was no exception to this common rule. While its summers were highly enjoyable, warm and comfortable with a deep blue sky, the winters and months around it were biting cold and put all inhabitants to the test, whether they be tree, wolf, reindeer or man.
However, many had through practice or evolution evolved or adapted enough to survive in this harsh climate. Food was always rare in winter. Wolves prowled around in the wilderness, trying to make every kill count to feed themselves. Bears had returned to some cave, many birds had migrated.
But now, the winter was over, and it was spring, the start of all things anew. Snow had disappeared from the lower regions, filling mountain streams to wild, bursting rivers. A rabbit that had ventured outside to test the first real beginnings of the spring and eat some fresh green grass checked often for predators. Life was returning all over the forest, with all the young animals that were born around this time hunters and predators would try to make up for the hungering white months. However, it never heard a single thing from the soundless flight and dive of the strong snowy owl that grabbed it in its strong talons.
The snowy owl had had a successful night. Out of the three attempts that she made in the last night, two had been successful. However, only one of the rabbits that she had caught was effectively for her. The other one would be for her friend. A very peculiar friend, for a snowy owl to have. She flew up with her prey, gliding easily on the lower air currents above the trees, flawlessly finding her way back. She lowered, and slalomed between some trees, to flap her wings several times hard to slow down and gently land on the ground.
A slight movement caught her big, yellow eyes. The lying silhouette next to her had tensed, slowly reaching for something. The owl gave a soft hoot, twice. The figure relaxed, and fell in its slumber again. The owl observed the long figure next to her for a while, clad in mainly browns, greens and greys. Her friend. Her human friend.
Many would find it very strange sight. But then again, they would not really understand either that the owl was not his pet, had never been. Nor was she tame. She was a hunter, and she was her own. She could fly away at any given moment and never bothered again with the weird two-legged person.
But she didn't. After all, she was barely a year old when she foolishly mistook a newly born wolf cub for a possible prey. And she hadn't had the experience to automatically check for its mother to be nearby. While she had gotten away, it had only been barely, her body and both her wings severely wounded. She knew, as any animal in such a position, that she was as good as dead. She couldn't fly anymore, nor could she hunt. She would either give in to her wounds, or become prey for others. That was the law and the way of the wilds. Until he came along.
Why he did it, she never understood. But he saved her, healed her, fed her and carried her without any real reason. And when she was completely healed, he just let her go. No imprisonment, no taming attempts, nothing. Just like that, she had her life and freedom again. And she owed it all to that weird two-legged big person. That was the moment when something changed. When she decided that this fellow might just be better to have in her life. A possible opportunistic moment in case she would fail hunts again? Certainly. But whatever the reason, both the owl and the human had been together ever since. Sometimes she left for a couple of days or even weeks, but always she returned. And now she was glad to help him with whatever he practically needed. For now, they were friends. She even, after a long while, begun to tolerate his black horse. It even tolerated her back. Why bother flying, if you could be carried after all?
It was still very dark outside, but on the very far side of the eastern mountain border, light began to appear. An early morning in the spring. It was somewhere in the end of march now, and green and life had everywhere reappeared again, while the snow was melting and had in the lower places all but disappeared. But winter still hadn't lost its presence entirely by the chill morning breeze, that made many remind the nights were still cold.
Red and golden rays of light began to really appear now and made an intricate, moving pattern of sharp playing light through the branches and leaves of the trees, for one especially clear ray to fall exactly on the face of a sleeping ranger, who let out a soft muttered curse when he opened his eyes and looked straight in the blinding light. While trying the shield his eyes from the cursed morning light he sat up, yawned, blinked a few times and quickly began to stretch to relieve his muscles of the stiffness from the night. The owl above watched the display with mild amusement before continuing her meal. The man quickly joined her by eating a light meal with a remnant from his dinner last night. It mainly consisted of cram, a sort of dry grain biscuits that stay fresh for long amounts of time and are perfect food for long travels. 'If only it would have some taste too', he mused. With some dried meat and a quickly cooked bit of hot tea to warm his body he was ready for day after splashing some icy cold water in his face to be somewhat fresh again.
The ranger looked around him. Nothing had really changed much since he went to sleep last night. Or since that owl woke him up an hour ago by laying a creepy, dead, bloody rabbit right next to his face. He was convinced the bird had done it on purpose. He just knew it. A hoot above him responded to his thoughts, as if that short-tailed white peacock knew what he was thinking. If owls could laugh in mockery, well, this one had perfected it.
Still, he couldn't really be angry on it. He was an extremely light sleeper, result of several years of training, experience and travels through the wilds. And he wouldn't have to set traps or hunt something to eat for lunch. That way, he could gain time and be able to reach Arendelle in the afternoon, he reasoned. The promise to sleep in an actual bed in a warm room with a meal and a pint, and an availability of perhaps a hot bath, or at least a somewhat decent cleaning opportunity… now that sounded like a small heaven compared the hard cold ground on his bed stroll last nights. A good beer or a bit of pipe-weed to smoke every once in a while where some of the few small satisfactions he allowed in his daily life.
Without bothering too much further, he got up and checked his gear again, before making a few changes. His few armor pieces that he carried with him remained in his pack. His reinforced leather arm bracers were effective enough, as were his long boots. His body was mainly covered in a combination of light undershirt, a woolen layer over it for warmth, and yet another sturdy dark green cloth over it to cover against dirt, scrapes and the likes. His chest protected by a short, sleeveless leather tunic. Most parts were easily fitted and closed by a string system. All bound together, by several belts. Finally, his greyish green cloak covered it all. A sturdy rangers' outfit, made for effectiveness and blending in.
As for the changes, the ranger changed one of the belts. While travelling, he simply had his weapons, packs and tools in a different position than when entering a town or city. Displaying weapons or even armor very blatantly tended, for some reason to make people very nervous and mistrusting.
He never really figured out why people looked so filthy towards him.
Rangers did not have the best reputation after all. While generally not bad, most were rough and solitary men, with a good knowledge of weapons and hunting. And every ranger was capable of inflicting a lot more harm and danger than a merchant or craftsman. Even guards let them be, if they kept enough to themselves. A ranger is never someone you really want to piss off, after all. Good thing most people in Arendelle were simple and open-minded folk, generally friendly fellows, and the guards weren't the power-abusing sort.
Only the ones from richer classes tended to show some look as if they were better, simply for having more money and being able to place their faces in a constant scowl as if everything that wasn't decorated in ways they themselves could not afford was able to infect and pollute them. Gods, he detested those people. Then again, insulting them and watching their faces evolve into red and purple tints was always amusing. Embarrassing young spoiled sons who instantly challenged him to a duel of honor was downright hilarious. Most hadn't had much more training beside fancy moves in light fencing and stiff or elegant postures that were pathetically weak or unbalanced. Oh, how he loved knocking them down a few notches. It was a slight sadistic and cruel side of him, and he didn't bother hiding it. Those that met their side, had already displayed something of their own to deserve it.
After doing the final routine checks on his gear out of habit, he placed his sword at his belt, kept a long, slightly curved dagger on his other hip so that it hid largely behind his back, and had the routine hidden knives in his boots and the underside of his bracers. One could never be too careful after all. If he or his mentor could've met Mad-eyed Moody from another universe with Harry Potter in it, they would most likely have become best buddies. He places his bow, other sword, quiver, sets of arrows and other gear, like packs of clothes and food, on his horse, stood up to take the reins and guided his black horse up and took off.
He halted however for a moment, turned around and looked upwards in the trees before letting a shrill sounding whistle free.
"You coming, Freya? Or will you catch up when your rabbit is finished?" he asked at the white owl who had made no movements to follow them.
A double hoot was the response. The ranger nodded to himself and continued his way. She would either find him on the road or in Arendelle. She was good in finding things and she had flown several times through these lands. He didn't worry when he was treading through the fresh, wild grass. He guessed the road would appear in a mile or three, and the remaining five or six miles he could ride his black steed, Fural. Shaking off any remaining thoughts and musings for now, he focused again on his surroundings. It wouldn't do if he, a skilled ranger of all people, would be caught by surprise in the wilderness. No, that wouldn't do at all.
So, What do you think? I wanted to make this chapter longer, but couldn't really do that given the content of the chapters I have planned to do so far. Don't worry, the known characters will start to appear next chapter. Or at the very least Anna will. This is only an introduction chapter after all.
Next chapter – WIP. I write on several stories simultaneously, so uploads can take a while or be irregular.
Again, thank you for reading, and please leave a review.