A surge of adrenaline flooded through her as the ghostly specter of the ship came into view. She knew it was the one, among the mammoth cemetery of half frozen, half buried ships— that was the one. That was theirs. There was no mistaking it. Even at that distance she could make out the large rosemaling detail carved into the side of the ship— but only part of it. The other half of the design was hidden below the icy fjord, and guilt hit her hard in the chest. How had she let this happen?
A gust of wind slammed her to the side as if to answer the unspoken question—your fault—ithissed, and sent her sprawling to the ice. She landed with a thud and pain shot through her hip, but didn't stop her momentum as she rolled. Quickly up and to a run she pushed herself with a grimace, the pain from the fall fading as the gravity of the scene once again enveloped her. How many people had she doomed to these icy tombs? In a flash she could picture them all— trapped, terrified and freezing to death— unable to move or fight their way out...
"Please… Please… Let them live…" She prayed into the wind. Tears started to form, but she blinked them away.
What a terrible selfish queen she was going to make.
Keeping only the ship with the rosmaling in her sights she pushed towards it on burning legs and lungs, ignoring all else.
Selfish.
If she could just get them out quickly then she would start rescuing the others, but why wasn't that damned ship getting any closer? The faster she ran the further away it seemed to get, as if she were running down one of the long never-ending corridors of the castle.
A loud sonorous crack resounded then, reverberating heavily through her chest, the jolt causing her stomach to fly up into her throat in terror.
In slow motion she watched the ship tip horrendously to one side; the low moaning sound it made was ghostly and unnatural.
The ship was breaking in half.
Mid stride she splayed out a hand and, in a long sweeping motion, blasted away the ice around the ship's hull with a yell. Still sprinting, she could hear the vessel whine as it was jarred loose, and saw it slowly begin to sink into the hole she had created.
Skidding to a stop, she planted her feet, pulled back both hands and thrust them forward in one powerful, low-sweeping arc meant to solidify the water around the ship— but she, caught off balance from the force of the motion, fell flat on her back.
Head still spinning she quickly sat up— what she saw brought bile to her throat. The ship had slipped further into the watery hole she'd created— and it was going down fast.
Horrified, she scrambled to her feet and flung her arms at it again…
Nothing came.
Nothing.
No ice, no snow or wind.
Again she flung her arms in the direction of the ship.
Nothing.
With eyes locked on the sinking ship she began swinging blindly, savagely at her target, screaming in desperation with each thrust.
'Your fault…' The wind hissed as it slapped her again.
Her fault. Her fault.It was all her fault.
With a scream that felt oddly detached from the body creating it, she smacked the wind back with flailing arms, her breathing coming faster; quick, sharp, panicked gasps as she watched the ship slipping further under.
She had lost her powers?
Now? After years of praying, wishing that they'd vanish, now is when they decide to abandon her?
A final violent swing brought her crashing to her knees, where she stayed hunched, panting as wild haunted eyes met the tip of the mast as it glided silently, seamlessly under the water.
Then it was gone…
They were gone…
"No!" She screamed, a hoarse cry that hung suspended in the air.
"No!" Her fists pounded down. Bone struck solid ice, but oddly there was no pain nor quaking of the ice as there should have been.
Then for a brief moment there was nothing. Nothing within, nothing without. Silence and frozen tears. Only the shrill echo of her faraway scream lingered, and the terrible pounding heartbeat in her ears.
Then: Ice broke.
Ice beneath her hands and knees broke so suddenly, so violently, that there was no time to react before she was sent plummeting through it and into the dark sound, choking on the thick dark water.
Elsa's eyes opened to blackness. The silence of the night encased her like a tomb— still gasping for breath she shot upright, her eyes flicking around in panic, coughing from the thick water that had been choking her.
A small beam of moonlight streaked across the floor and she locked onto it, desperate for a shred of reality to grasp, still not convinced she wasn't underwater.
Unceremoniously she lurched out of bed, ignoring the ice that crunched underfoot, and rushed to the doors of her balcony throwing herself out into moonlight. She leaned on the stone railing and let the cool air wash over her face and pounding head.
The vast fjord spread out below her, calm and dark and she stared at it for a long moment, willing the last vestiges of the nightmare to dissolve.
Her parents.
Everything always came back to them.
With a long breath she dropped her head down into her palms resting on the stone railing.
Why couldn't she move past this?
She still needed them.
Could she make the hard decisions when the time came without their guidance? Did she know everything she needed to know? Had she prepared enough? Was there something she had missed, some small detail that could plunge the kingdom into chaos? Could she control her powers indefinitely? Did she really have the stamina, composure and self-control to perform as expected and under such constant scrutiny, every day for the rest of her life?
Truly, she didn't know. She was so young, just beginning her reign really— there were still so many years ahead, and the looming weight of them was crushing.
But she did have Anna.
A wave of nausea rolled through her.
If she failed, it would once again be Anna who paid the price. Oh she knew if it all became too much and she couldn't do the job anymore Anna would. Anna would take the burden from her in an instant like she had tried to do so many times before, and there was some comfort in knowing that at least. But she wasn't going to allow it to come to that.
No. She couldn't allow that. Not ever. Anna was free— free to live her own life, and she intended to keep it that way. Anna did not want to rule, even if she never out rightly said it. She had seen the flicker of panic in Anna's eyes when she had thought her sister was never returning to Arendelle. Beneath the fear of losing Elsa, was a flash of sheer hysteria in Anna's eyes— one she recognized well from herself. The weight of knowing you're to lead a kingdom alone. A heavy burden she would wish upon no one. This she could save Anna from, and she would.
Elsa lifted her head from her hands, and gazed out over a perfectly undisturbed portrait of the celestial landscape above as it reflected off the glassy water of the fjord, far below. Stars glistened off the water like spectral entities, interrupted only by the sharp, inverted reflection of snowcapped mountains and wispy auroras that danced with them.
She took a deep breath, focusing on the sharp mountains in the water and let the stillness wash over her.
How had her father done it? She knew what stressors the job entailed, she'd watched him for years, and yet never understood how he always had everything so calmly under control. Where she was constantly on edge and imagining the worst, he was always completely at ease and optimistic— and usually right. He knew when to be serious and when to be funny. He knew exactly who he was, and everyone else knew it too. He was so good at it, and Arendelle had thrived under his rule.
She smiled at the thought of him— Anna was so much like him. She too knew exactly who she was, what she stood for and never wavered. They were the type of people with the charisma and optimism to lead a kingdom, not her.
She could see his laughing face as the imagery on the water pulled her tired eyes down deeper, darker into it's consuming depths, and she allowed herself to sink down into the pain, letting her peripheral vision fade away as she became immersed in a dizzying pool of color, darkness and stardust. She never imagined a time would come when he wouldn't be there to help her, and it hurt. It hurt to think of him, but it hurt more not to.
She swayed slightly forward over the railing, the sensation of odd equilibrium and vertigo taking hold of her, gripping, pulling, demanding she not look away from the water. Her eyes roamed slowly, deliberately over the celestial map laid out before her, carefully examining every blip, detail and twinkle, searching for some bit of direction or meaning…cohesion or continuity… a pattern or structure… anything that made any kind of sense— yet she found nothing. Only confusion, chaos and uncertainty.
Who was she? Did she even know? Did anyone else? How could she possibly lead others when she had no idea who she was?
The shadow of a ruler no one had seen for years, come to light only to be exposed as a monster- abnormal, reticent, dangerous. Then on top of that was her natural disposition that felt so wrongly opposite to what she probably ought to be. She liked to read. She liked theories and facts— and being alone to contemplate and study those theories and facts and the possibilities they held— especially regarding the origins of her strange frozen abilities. She would never be sociable, talkative Anna. Anna could talk to countless strangers for hours about any and everything— engaging conversation too. She had so many interests, hobbies and hopes and dreams to speak about and lit up whenever she could engage people about them. Her passion and enthusiasm took hold of the conversations in a magical way and people would leave her, always happier then when they came. She'd seen it time and time again. She'd experienced it herself, time and time again. Anna was infectious like that, able to transfer her positivity and hope to a person even when they were completely shut off from it.
That's what Arendelle needed, not this shadow of a queen, desperately self-absorbed in a quest to understand herself.
Her eyelids fluttered suddenly as a small ripple passed over the waters surface, causing the pristine reflection to waver and distort. She straightened and stood upright— too quickly— and her vision went painfully black for a long breath. Her whole body tingled in suspended blindness, unsteady and detached, she stood gripping the railing, waiting for the unpleasant yet familiar head rush spell to pass.
Slowly her vision returned and she could feel her head pulsing with relief. Her eyes were dry, it burned to blink but she could see the cause of the ripple— two puffins had surfaced from beneath the water and were now happily paddling away. She smiled at the carefree, comical birds. How she wished to be like them.
She rolled her shoulders back in an effort to alleviate her strained neck muscles and watched the two puffins disappear into the harbor where a group of foreign ships still ghosted after all these months. Leering sinisterly in the distance, their dark forms seemed to mock her and she turned her gaze away in exhaustion. The ships belonged to the group of dignitaries that had insisted on prolonging their stay in court, for different reasons, well after her coronation had passed.
Her coronation had been three months ago.
By her estimations they were roughly two months and twenty some odd days worn past their welcome, and she was ready for them to leave. She pursed her lips and with one last deep breath and a slight shake of her head, turned to go back inside.
The fire in her fireplace was out so she made her way over and placed two birch logs in the embers, along with a small bit of kindling and some pinecones for scent. There was no point to wake someone to do something as simple as place logs in embers, especially on this cold night— plus, she oddly enjoyed it. She liked doing things for herself, and hearing the wood crackle, fussing with the logs until they caught fire and feeling the warmth on her face when they did was satisfying. At this late hour, she kept the fire lit for Anna who periodically showed up in her room at odd hours— despite her own outspoken reservations that she couldn't control her powers when she slept. She would still sometimes wake with her sister sleeping in bed next to her and for that she needed the fire kept lit. It was early November and Anna would freeze if she came in and there wasn't a source of warmth. She herself didn't need the warmth, but she decided she could use the light. She wasn't ready to subject herself to absolute darkness just yet— or sleep. Taking up the poker, she fidgeted with the logs until they caught, then, satisfied they would burn for at least an hour, padded over to her desk where a mess of papers awaited her.
It was well after midnight, she hadn't been asleep for that long, but the last meeting she'd had just before bed still burned in her mind. She'd been booked with a near constant flow of meetings for the past three months and only in the past week had they finally started to wane, a little. This most recent one, a troubling recount of an under shipment of lutefisk had her reeling for solutions.
The Earl had presented the case plainly enough and she'd all but dismissed the deficit as a simple miscommunication until she detected an accusatory tone as he reiterated the recent financial anxieties of—
Wessex?
Yes it was Wessex.
She jotted that down in her notebook along with 'lutefisk under shipment.' She'd had to start keeping a concise to do list each day after the meetings to stay on top of everything. There were simply too many nuances to keep only a mental list of tasks anymore.
Apparently, fish weren't the only import Wessex had been under shipped on. They had been shorted on other goods, from several different kingdoms that the Earl had recounted in dogmatic fashion, explaining each deficit Wessex had discovered in chronological order. She didn't understand the critical tone he had laced under his sermon— there were a plethora of benign reasons she could think of to account for these deficits that didn't warrant his unpleasant attitude. She also didn't understand why he was even delving into the details of these other problems when lutefisk was the only one that had to do with Arendelle— although the sheer number of deficits he listed did seem a bit odd. It was most likely the lutefisk deficit was due to a human error by one of her merchants; she'd seen that happen occasionally, but never intentionally.
Despite the atmosphere of dignitaries who subtly hinted at her inexperience, she actually had been paying attention and learning about the state of affairs for years prior to her coronation. She'd seen an occasion here or there where the merchants had miscounted something accidentally, but rarely if ever had she found them to have miscalculated on purpose for personal gain— at least not in Arendelle. They were not a large kingdom, and the people were all close knit, honest and fair— albeit steadfast in their traditionalism. There was an admirable, unspoken moral code amongst them and swindling was just not their way. She was convinced that if Wessex was having false transactions with other provinces as well, then it was most likely that Wessex was the common denominator and should look into it themselves. She was close to ending his tirade with just that when he hit her with the crop failures. She'd stared blankly at him for a beat trying in her haze of tiredness to understand the man's thought progression. He then slowly repeated 'the crop failures' while looking at her with a raised eyebrow and her confusion immediately evaporated into shock. Her mind reeled trying to make sense, piecing it all together— the shortages and under shipments… Her powers… How far across Europe had they reached? She hadn't even thought about it, assuming it had been contained to the area surrounding Arendelle. Summer crops were not meant to withstand winter weather— winter weather she had inflicted upon them all in the middle of July— crop-growing season. Of course people were panicking because of the shortage of crops, and were under-shipping because they had no other choice, and or were compensating by skimming off of other merchandise to conserve for the coming 'real' winter. Two cases of flour here a crate of fish there… eventually it would add up and people would start to question the missing contraband as the Earl had. They were scared and stockpiling food. People do desperate things when they're afraid, she couldn't even blame them. How had she not known of this sooner…? How far had it spread…? What else was she not aware of that she had been at fault for…? Had— had she inadvertently killed anyone…?
After a long glance at her Kai interjected and reassured the Earl that they would look into it, and that Wessex would get a shipment and a half to compensate for their losses.
Kai. Lutefisk. She should have thanked him but her mind was still paralyzed by the realization that she'd frozen half the world. She cringed at the childish impression her silent stupor must have left on the Earl— confirming his suspicions about her ineptitude. Perhaps he'd paid more attention to Kai's deflection.
Hopefully.
Kai had been her father's closest advisor and was now hers, though he had always been more like an uncle to her and Anna. She trusted him. He had always protected them as he had just done, and never failed to ease tension and find a graceful solution that somehow always pleased everyone.
Only he wasn't going to be able to protect her this time. She'd made a mess and she now had to find a way to fix it, starting with getting everyone through the rapidly approaching and very real winter.
With that determination rekindled anew, she continued sifting through the stack of papers and logbooks searching for the lutefisk ledgers. She was going to find the logs, find the merchant himself if need be and present this to the Earl anyway. He could have his extra shipment of free fish but she was going to prove to him at the very least, that Arendelle did not cheat its trade partners. It was a delicate balance she'd discovered, apologizing and reassuring people, while also making it clear Arendelle was not becoming a free-for-all to be constantly taken advantage of.
She was so very drained and tired of reassuring every last Earl, Duke and Viceroy of the same things over and over again, 'relations will stay the same and be strengthened, you have nothing to fear for your kingdom nor from me' or 'you can trust in me as you trusted in my father, recent events have not changed that.'
She let out a long sigh.
Damage control.
That's what it was, and she deserved to bear the exhausting burden of repairing relations she had almost extinguished in a single day, even if that meant listening to inane lutefisk qualms after midnight and finding a way to help the nations that were struggling because of her. It was her job. She was the queen.
As repetitive and tiresome as most of her meetings were, and as much as she wanted the dignitaries to leave, on some level she was grateful that anyone had stayed at all after her coronation, that they didn't get in the first available boat and sail away, never to return, as she supposed they should have done. Granted, many ships were ruined, regrettably, during the coronation and most people were forced to remain, but even the ones who could have left right away didn't.
It had taken her a minute to work that one out— but only a minute.
Hans was the answer— or part of it.
Hans, the scheming prince from the Southern Isles who tried to marry Anna and usurp the crown in her absence after the coronation. He was crafty, but not original in his designs for power, and it was entirely possible that that was why others had remained as well; to see if Arendelle really was on the rumored brink of collapse and to be first in line to claim it if it did. She had to at least keep that on the backburner of possibilities.
She was not going to let that happen again.
It was only a suspect reason though, for their extended stay. Oddly, most of them, once the dust had settled, brushed off the events of the coronation as a minor inconvenience and proceeded as if nothing had happened. Whether they really felt that way or were being polite out of fear she would never really know. However, to their credit, while they waited for their ships to be repaired, they had jumped right into the thick of politics— bombarding her with questions, negotiations, documents, treaties, assurances and the like which, surprisingly, was a welcome distraction after the coronation disaster, albeit an extensive one. Those things she knew about; had spent her life absorbing, studying, breathing— so much so that she found she enjoyed being productive, motivated even, to finally be accomplishing something useful— even if it was partly cleaning up her own mess. At least when she was busy and distracted, she felt more normal.
Of course the more mundane topics of lutefisk quandaries and fishing zones were not as stimulating as some of the other issues that had been brought up such as slavery, more specifically the abolition of— and also modernizing inheritance and property rights for women, such that they could own, buy, sell and inherit property in their own name and not solely in the name of their husband. She could get so caught up in those things that on more than one occasion she had worked through the night without realizing the sun had come up. It was a distraction that held her interest to be sure, that's what had always gotten her through, but it also somewhat alleviated her guilt and in that way it had become seductive to work long hours.
Something she had not foreseen, but supposed she should have in retrospect, was that in fact many had extended their stay in Arendelle to secure good relations with her. They saw what she could do, the destruction she so swiftly and effortlessly caused, and though she labored to convince them that she was not a threat, they seemed equally bent on convincing her they were not to be seen as a threat either. They wanted to secure their kingdoms protection from her.
That made sense.
But what also became increasingly apparent as the continued meetings unfolded was that most of them needed her to be on their side for economic reasons even before anyone knew of the crop failures. Or rather they needed to confirm that they were still in favorable relations with Arendelle now that there was a new sovereign— a new sovereign like her.
Arendelle was very rich and diverse in its resources, much richer then most of the nations they had dealings with; they were getting along fine even with the local crop shortages. They had abundant metals such as iron, lead and copper, with iron being one of their main exports. It was used for a great many necessities from weaponry to pots and pans. Her father even suspected ships would one day be built out of the stuff, though she had no idea how metal so heavy would ever stay afloat.
Arendelle was also a sea kingdom, and thus ran very profitable whaling, fishing and seafood enterprises. There were also countless freshwater lakes up in the mountains, all of which were teeming with just about every type of northern fish one could want. The abundant forests provided a great supply of timber and game, with lumber, deerskins and meat being the other primary exports— though she was interested in setting up some regulations, especially the amount of trees that were being cut every year. Even most of the fertile lowlands at the base of the fjord were converted to dairy farms in the summer months, producing milk, goat cheese, sheep wool, root vegetables, barley, and select fruits, nuts and berries. Years of studying economics had taught her this much: Arendelle was almost always in a trade surplus. There was very little aside from grain that they actually needed to import that couldn't be classified as luxury: sugar, spices, silk, coffee, corn, wine and fruits and vegetables only warmer climates could sustain.
Because of this— because of her parents, Arendelle was extremely financially independent and if they were careful, she was confident her kingdom could still function and sustain itself on its own even if trade stopped altogether. She was also fairly certain these other diplomats knew this as well. In the larger configuration of nations Arendelle held quite a bit of power and leverage, economically speaking at least, which reassured and troubled her all at once— she would have to tread carefully. She also hoped that because of this they could afford to compensate the nations that were struggling because of crop failures.
Either she'd missed the log or it wasn't in this logbook. Frustrated, she leaned back in her chair, let out a long breath and squeezed the back of her neck. Hard.
Trade relations, alliances, subterfuge… lutefisk.
She could deal with all of that. Eventually the meetings would subside and the dignitaries would leave… hopefully. Unfortunately, those issues were only part of a larger reason most of them had stayed. The main reason, why foreign ships still clogged her harbor three months past her coronation, was because of her sister.
The throbbing pain snaked up from her neck and landed, somehow, just over her eyes. She propped her elbows on the desk, closed her eyes and pressed her thumbs up into the top of her eye sockets.
Anna.
A quiet grunt escaped as the pressure intensified just behind her eyes.
Marriage.
By law, she as the sovereign, had to sit through and either approve or disprove every single suitor attached to marriage propaganda that was vying for her sister's hand— which unfortunately, had grown exponentially since the gates of the castle had opened permanently three months prior.
Her sister was talkative, witty, funny, smart, interesting, pretty and extremely oblivious of the effect she had on men— which was unfortunate, for her more so than Anna, as she was the one forced to sit through the unbelievably absurd marriage proposals.
Anna had also saved her life, an effort the entire kingdom and all those present for the coronation had witnessed— and now, every man of marriageable age wanted to be betrothed to this beautiful, courageous young girl…
Young woman.
Anna was a young woman of marriageable age now.
Elsa's breath caught for a second as that fact hit her. She had already known this, Anna had been eighteen for months now with men chasing her for the past three, but laying it out like that sent a painful ache into her heart. She had missed so much of her sister's life, they had only just come into each other's lives again and she, selfishly, didn't want anyone to take her away again. In her heart she knew Anna and knew that was something she shouldn't worry about, but the thought of her sister married off still made her throat close up and her eyes sting.
Well she wasn't engaged yet at least, there was still that.
In fact, when the suitors first started buzzing around, Anna had actually laughed when told that they were there for her and had insisted, through fits of laughter, that Elsa was insane and that they were obviously interested in her. This had privately amused her as men usually (thankfully) kept their distance from her.
Anna became so insistent about it however, that it grew a bit ridiculous. She began coming up with all kinds of elaborate scenarios for how Elsa should meet her tall dark suitor, how Anna should covertly orchestrate the whole thing because Elsa was incredibly dense when it came to men, (that part was not voiced in so many words but had been implied) followed by extravagant plans for Elsa's wedding and names for the niece she was absolutely certain she'd have one day. Anna's invented scenarios were unsurprisingly sappy and cliché, and she'd just smiled and shook her head. Though she had to give Anna credit, some of them were actually very exciting, creative and beautifully romantic and she found herself secretly enjoying pretending she was normal, discussing suitors and romantic adventures with her sister and letting herself for a moment believe she would get to experience all the things on Anna's detailed list. She didn't have the heart to tell her sister that she was probably never going to become an aunt.
So in order to finally convince her of the suitor's intentions, she took Anna up to the balcony that overlooked the slew of men gaggled in the courtyard and told her to wait before coming out. Elsa stepped out first, nodded her head, and all the men who noticed her bowed respectfully then began excitedly chattering amongst themselves and straining to see beyond Elsa. Elsa closed her eyes to keep from rolling them, and motioned to Anna who stepped out moments later. As she predicted, their etiquette and strained neck muscles instantly transformed into outright hoots, hollers and cheering combined with excessive bowing. Some even dropped to one knee as if to propose right then and there. Unable to contain it this time, Elsa let her eyes roll then crossed her arms and turned to Anna, raising an eyebrow that said I told you so.
The mortified look on Anna's face had been priceless and worth the whole demonstration. Her sister had gone beet red and her face looked like it did when she'd get into trouble: something between embarrassed and frightened. Anna then sheepishly waved at the men while slipping silently back inside, nearly knocking over a flowerpot as she backed away. She also became increasingly awkward and avoidant of the men after that, which meant it was up to Elsa to deal with them.
Marriage.
Her sister was not ready for breakfast half the time, let alone marriage. Kristoff, an ice harvester, was the first man Anna had ever seriously been with, and while she suspected they were in love, they had only been together since her coronation.
From what Anna had recounted, Kristoff had saved her life on more than one occasion when Anna had gone looking for her last summer, and he had expected nothing in return for his help— something she had repeatedly asked Anna if she was sure about. Anna insisted that she was the one who approached him, and that he was even somewhat reluctant to help her at first, but did so anyway in a very gentlemanly-way as Anna phrased it. The more she listened the more she unfortunately realized just how much she owed the man— without his help, Anna might be dead.
A bit of ice crept up inside her chest at the thought.
She too would be dead.
Though she vowed never to speak, dwell or think of it again, she still couldn't escape from the dark thoughts that swirled within her the day she thought she had killed Anna. She'd been on the edge of a dangerous precipice for some time prior to that incident, and that day, she'd nearly dragged herself off the edge of it.
Elsa rubbed her hands over her face and noticed that they were coated with a thin layer of ice. She opened and closed her fists several times, watching the ice glisten, crack, crumble and fall to the floor.
Anna had not died— Anna had saved her life that day. She not only physically saved her, but Anna had saved her spirit, saved her from herself really, simply by entering into her life again— and she was never going to let anything or anyone jeopardize that ever again.
Including Kristoff.
Yes, she'd believed Anna's story about him, and there was no question that she was indebted to him for saving Anna, but the one thing she had questioned was Anna's coloration of the story. Her sister simply saw the best in people, and she loved her for that, but was also not about to allow her to be deceived or hurt because of it— she knew better. She understood the lengths people would go to in order to deceive— the different facades used to cover up dark secrets and hidden motives… She after all, had mastered all of them.
Initially her gut reaction had been to ask Anna if she was insane to get involved with or even trust another man so soon after the Hans debacle, but had ultimately decided to hold her tongue. The last time she verbalized her distaste of a man Anna brought to her had been at her coronation— which sparked the events that led to Anna bodily shielding her from Hans' swinging sword and nearly losing her life.
No, fighting with Anna was something she never wished to experience again. Ever.
She also didn't want Anna to think she couldn't come to her about such things, good or bad, whatever the topic, she wanted Anna to be able to talk to her openly about any and everything.
She owed her that at the very least.
It also wasn't as if she disliked Kristoff, he had actually seemed very genuine the first brief time she'd met him, she just didn't know him very well.
So her first move had been to get records of all the transactions she could find involving Kristoff and his ice business, which she innocently left out of conversations between her and Anna. She went through receipts, pay notes, delivery logs, equipment contracts, lease papers and even found official papers on his reindeer Sven. Everything she found seemed honest and legitimate; deliveries always on time and complete, humane treatment of Sven, bills and loans paid on time or in full. It appeared he was not well off by any means, but financially stable just the same. She had also jotted down a list of names that cropped up more than once of customers and merchants who Kristoff had repeat dealings with. She wanted to see if paper trail Kristoff lined up with the real Kristoff, and so decided to visit several people off the list. Having unrestricted access to all legal documents was definitely a more useful aspect of her position.
To her surprise, every last person she visited gave only glowing reviews of Kristoff's excellent service and moral character. Byron, the merchant who sold Kristoff his sleigh, thought very highly of him and explained enthusiastically how Kristoff had purchased one of his more expensive sleigh models that he'd been working to pay off for a long time, and how very recently he'd made the final payment on it.
She'd cringed inwardly at that, as Anna had explained to her how Kristoff's sleigh had run off over a cliff and been ruined during their journey. She thanked Byron and requested that he bring his nicest, most practical sleigh to the palace courtyard, and she would pay him in full for it, along with any delivery charges. She didn't know the details of what Kristoff's job entailed, but she asked Byron to ensure that the sleigh had all the same functions as Kristoff's old sled. She didn't want him to receive an extravagant sleigh that he couldn't use for his job. Byron listened carefully to her request, offered explanations about things she had little knowledge of, then assured her he had the perfect sleigh that he was certain Kristoff would love. She liked Byron. He was a kind and wise elderly gentleman and she found she trusted his opinion of Kristoff. She thanked him again and added that her sister would come by to confirm the transaction and select added equipment for Kristoff's sleigh and to please deliver those goods along with the sleigh itself. He assured her that he would see it done and she left, feeling more confident about the Kristoff situation.
It turned out her initial reaction about Kristoff and that of the others who knew him well had been spot on. He was indeed humble, genuine and very gentle for someone as tall and broad as he was. Something she had not expected however, was how much she too had come to enjoy his company over the past few months. He was very intelligent, in a stoic way, something his rugged physical appearance had belied and she found his well-timed, occasionally cynical, sarcastic bits of humor to be very endearing. He was also very passionate about ice sculptures— which was a welcome surprise.
What fascinated her most though, was how his mind seemed to operate on the same frequency as Anna's. He was openly, sometimes inappropriately honest about his opinions (most of which she found she agreed with) which unfortunately made stifling her chuckles at his sarcastic remarks all the more difficult. He legitimately understood and found almost all of Anna's jokes funny where most people were lost, (including she herself half the time) and he would even add to them occasionally, usually causing Anna to break down into a fit of laughter. He also willingly participated in all of her sister's ill-conceived ideas. However, he seemed to be part accomplice, part supervisor, making sure Anna didn't get herself into trouble, and she said a silent thank you for that. It felt so different and yet somehow normalizing to have someone around that was simply a friend, someone who wanted nothing from them but to enjoy their company, and she was quietly grateful for it.
Word of Anna's relationship with Kristoff however, never seemed to spread amongst the ever-growing hoard of predominantly arrogant suitors— or more likely it did, and they either found stimulation in the challenge or simply didn't care, viewing Anna as the queen to be captured in their twisted version of political chess.
She finally had to recruit Kai to help her dismiss the men, but they almost never went away unless she directly, forcefully told them no. They would congregate around the castle at all hours until she finally saw them, or the guards threw them out of the courtyard for the night. She even had to employ more guards to keep them from coming back at ungodly hours. Kristoff had been particularly useful and very efficient at orchestrating that task, but they just kept coming back and back again until she would see them directly.
The antiquated Royal Marriages Act which stated that the suitors needed the reigning monarchs consent before courting a royal in fact, turned out to be somewhat useful, in that if they didn't have to go through her first, Anna would have been mobbed like a lamb to the slaughter. As it stood Anna could barely leave the castle without being swarmed, which she knew drove Anna insane. So she resigned to seeing and rejecting each one of them one by one— if for nothing else then getting them all away from the castle. They had taken up a near permanent residence out there, encouraged and supplied with food and drink innocently by the townspeople, who all wanted to see their princess happily married off. It was a near constant festival outside and she needed it to stop— it was too much with everything else that was going on. Although, she really couldn't even bring herself to be mad at the people; however misplaced their hospitality was, their loyalty and care was touching.
So became her daily ritual: in between meetings, she'd spend her timein courtsitting on the uncomfortable throne listening to the suitors endless supply of undying promises and devotions of love to her sister. It was marvelous how mind numbingly similar and unoriginal they all were. She was certain they all must rehearse and trade notes on these pretentious tirades, which were always different versions of the same thing.
They would start with animated professions of love for Anna that came across as blatantly insincere and— at first— mildly amusing. At one point she was sure they had stolen lines from books she had read. They fell in love the moment they laid eyes on her… the gates opening was a sign from above… they couldn't sleep after she spoke just one syllable to them… and her personal favorite, the events last July opened their eyes to the fragile nature of life and love.
If only they had any real idea about that one.
Then came the incredibly inaccurate and unsuccessful attempts at trying to sound like they knew something about Anna.
'Majesty, if I may be so bold as to point out that Princess Anna and I share a deep connection through our love of the arts and I would be honored to help expand her artistic horizons.'
What would expand Anna's horizons would be if they would get away from the castle and leave her alone. The only deep connection they had to her was from the information they ferreted out by practically stalking her or heard from the local gossip train.
Though she applauded the few who at least did basic research and their vague approximations of her sister's interests. Others hadn't even had the sense to ask around and she found that she took particular pleasure in asking them what they knew about Anna, just so she could watch the look of sheer stupor spread across their faces when their minds couldn't arrange a proper story quickly enough. That brand of amusement only became enjoyable when the haze of exhaustion really started to affect her judgment.
Regardless, when those tactics failed, they would segue into their favorite talking points: the conglomerate of wealth and land they possessed, were set to inherit or their rank. She tried to restrain herself on that one, but largely failed. When she was paying attention she would succinctly point out that she was in the process of equalizing property and inheritance rights for women, so Anna would get to keep control over her royal dowry upon marriage and therefore had no immediate need for property or wealth as provided by a potential husband. It also gave her an opening to subtly point out that while Arendelle most definitely desired to keep profitable and amicable relations with other nations, they did not need to do so especially through any marriage of Anna's or her own. She also hoped this might check any future suitors who might aim her way. It may not have necessarily been true, she was fighting a downhill battle with the nobles on the Privy Council who were staunch in their religious beliefs that she and Anna needed to marry, and marry a nation not a lover while they were at it. Regardless, this information usually caused the suitors to falter, bow and finish with some obsequious drabble aimed at adulating her on her excellent accomplishments as queen, (all three months worth of accomplishments) and their profuse, syrupy devotion to the crown.
Mentally tracing the designs on the floor tiles had become more engaging then listening to their drivel. Half the time she would zone out, her mind arranging hypothetical arguments with the Privy Council about arranged marriages, inattentively nodding at the suitors until silence caused by the absence of their din-babble would snap her back to reality. At first she tried to give each one a small speech explaining why they were unfit for her sister, letting them down gently… especially the suitors representative of other nations.
However, she lost the energy for that rapidly— though she did manage to retain patience for the decent few that came through.
The majority though, were the grossly overconfident, argumentative types, who didn't understand the word no when it was dropped on their large heads. Only so many times, could she give the same repetitive diatribe of rejection without wishing to pull her hair out, single strand by single strand.
Kai once again, was her salvation through all of this, as he had quickly picked up on her subvert, irritated eye signals. The two of them worked out a code-system of subtle gestures and eye maneuvers that indicated when to start removing the undesirables without her even saying a word. All she had to do was glance at Kai when their incessant rambling shifted from redundant to desperate and he would smoothly interject and start escorting them to the door where Kristoff or the guards would step in and drag them the rest of the way out.
Bless those men.
Then the older Lords would come in. That always riled her up. Men twice her own age pompously trotting in under the delusion that their lucrative finances and status still endowed them the right to court someone who could've been their daughter. She quickly disillusioned them of that notion, having to fight the ice from forming every step of the way. Even the way they would leer at her was lewd and it disturbed her. Still, she was careful to be as polite and regal as possible with these ones. They were shrewd and by their age knew how to play the political game. She didn't trust them. Kai knew it too and she knew these ones would be watched extra carefully.
She however was lucky— or unlucky perhaps depending on how one chose to look at it— that men were not courting her— at least not directly. She literally didn't have the time for it. Few men rarely even made direct eye contact with her for more than a few seconds anyway. She told herself that it was for the best, and it was, even if somewhere deep down it stung a bit. She was bound by her powers and married to her kingdom and she knew there would be no room for a romantic relationship… She'd given up that hope long ago. The only thing that really represented a problem would be her inability to produce an heir, though Anna was capable at least, if she desired to. Even if somehow she was able to be with someone someday, she had no real idea how a passionate moment might begin to work with her powers such as they were— or if she would be willing to test that should she ever come to care about someone in that way. Or if she could ever trust someone enough to consider that… It was better things were left as they were. She didn't need any more complications. It was safer this way.
She took in another deep breath and looked up; the fire had already fizzled out, leaving burning coals in the fireplace once again.
She had Anna. That was all the love she needed, she could do without romantic love as long as she had that. She closed the large logbook and the papers on her desk flew off and scattered around her chair.
She slumped forward, resting her forehead in her hands and tried to block out the heaviness in her chest. Was it even possible that any other human besides Anna could come to feel that way about her? To love her just as she is, powers and all? She closed her eyes, already aware of the answer. Watching Anna's children grow up would have to be good enough.