The grass rippled gently in the wind, gently as Elsa seated herself against the stones. Against the horizon were the stars; above her was the moon. Tonight the sea was still and silent. Elsa sat there and said nothing.
The footprints behind her were as fresh as the breeze off the sea. Men, women, horses and carts had been gathered there that evening, first to place down the stones, then to pay their respects. Black had been the order of the day. Elsa remained motionless.
Arendelle was officially in mourning. All the bars were closed; all the flags were at half-mast; all movement was subdued. Tears dripped down, fell, were lost in the dew. Elsa's eyes were shut.
The night went on. The chill seeped into everything. Elsa stayed.