Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm's shrill cries died quickly, as a hand emerged from beneath the duvet to turn it off. The radio function replaced it, softly playing music many would deem "ancient".

"Woke up this morning, feelin' fine, had a little something, on my mind..."

Culture was something that changed quickly. For hundreds of years, the most popular songs were accompanied by lyrics, but before that, the works of Mozart, Bach and Beethoven had been predominantly instrumental. Although Omnitools could translate the many languages of the galaxy quickly and efficiently, things such as music often returned mangled. Rhyme and rhythm did not survive the translation process. Therefore, music had come full circle again - back to instrumentals.

Elsa was aware of the circular nature of life. After all, at three-hundred-and-sixty-two years-old, she had seen more of it than most people. The only ones who could claim more were Asari and Krogan.

She slipped out of bed and checked her schedule, then groaned. She had to meet with him again today. The worst part of the week. The man was bullish, xenophobic, and had none of the charm a diplomat needed in abundance. A bureaucrat to the core.

Donnel Udina was most certainly not the man who should be representing Earth to the other Citadel races.

Elsa busied herself with her morning routine - breakfast, shower, getting dressed. She had been quite happy to find dresses back in fashion as casual wear after all these years, and had acquired several in her traditional shade of blue. White and blue weren't exactly popular colours on the Presidium, probably due to the ceiling. Although the constant blue sky above the Presidium was convincing, it was quite clear that it wasn't Earth. The gravity was all wrong, for one. The Presidium's gravity was a mere 0.3 Gs, and no matter how long she spent there, everything still felt... floaty. Things fell to the ground, yes, but it took them longer.

As she took the sky-car to Udina's office, she flicked through the files she had been sent by Parliament. As the Arendellian advisor to Udina, she was to promote Arendelle's interests to the "good" Ambassador, and hope that he, in turn, would promote them to the other races. Although what she was sent nowadays was mainly tourism-related, some days she found herself with something more important. Colonization discussions, missing persons, visits from the Royal Family...

"So, Miranda. Who's next?"

"The nearest one would be the convict, Jack. She's incarcerated in the Purgatory prison ship, currently in the Hourglass Nebula."

"Incarcerated?"

"Her rap sheet is as long as my arm. But she's a powerful biotic, one of the most powerful ever reported. She could be a great asset to the team."

"So we'd be breaking her out?"

"No, Cerberus has paid for her release. Purgatory is run by the Blue Suns, so they sell the prisoners to the highest bidder."

"Okay, who else?"

"The Warlord, Okeer, is only one jump away too. Korlus, in the Eagle Nebula. Intel suggests that he's had contact with the Collectors in his efforts to cure the genophage. After that, Cerberus has hired Kasumi Goto, a master thief. She should be waiting on the Citadel."

Miranda left without a word, and allowed Commander John Shepard to stew in his thoughts. As far as he could remember, he could get to the Eagle Nebula from the Hourglass Nebula, if he went through the Crescent Nebula. Go the other way, and he'd have to backtrack to get back to the Hourglass Nebula.

His mind made up, he made his way toward the Galaxy Map, which was in it's pride of place overseeing the crew of the Normandy SR2. Just as he went to activate the interface, Kelly Chambers piped up.

"Commander, you have new messages at your private terminal."

The good Commander made the usual detour towards his terminal, and opened it up. As he read the message, his face broke into a grin. It seemed he had more to do on the Citadel than just collecting a thief.

The sky-car landed gently, the mass effect fields ensuring the smoothest of rides. A short walk later, Elsa found herself entering the ambassador's office. She smiled as she spied Councilor Anderson, sitting in on the meeting once more. He had even less experience as a diplomat than Udina, but the key difference was that Anderson knew that fact, and was doing all he could to rectify it. Although he also lacked the charm that a diplomat needed to possess, he made up for it with a refreshing sincerity.

He was happier today than Elsa had ever seen him. She had met him just over two years ago, but there was a definite difference between the newly-minted Councilor Anderson and the Councilor Anderson that had emerged after the death of Commander Shepard. She had seen it before, the look he had worn that day: the look of someone who had lost a child. A look too often seen in her own family.

The meeting began. The American advisor spoke in somber tones about the disappearance of one of their colonies, Freedom's Progress, out in the Terminus Systems. Not the first, and from the sound of it, not the last. Elsa herself had the unfortunate duty of speaking about Fandral, a colony of roughly 250,000, when it disappeared four months ago.

"I implore you, Councilor. We need someone to do something about this. The Alliance can't do enough to protect these colonies, they're to afraid of spooking the Batarians to send a fleet." finished the American, Joshua Goodwin.

"I'm trying, Mr Goodwin. But the Council faces the same fears. They don't want a war with the Terminus Systems, and sending a fleet to defend the colonies could set them on edge."

"Bah! The Council wouldn't be so hesitant if this was a Turian colony! They simply don't care about human colonies!" interjected Udina. A perfect example of his complete lack of tact.

"Then why not do what you did last time? When Saren and his Geth were attacking human colonies, the Council refused to send a fleet, but they did send a Spectre!" Goodwin pleaded.

"Surely you don't believe the rumors that he's alive, do you? It's preposterous!" exclaimed Udina, skeptically.

"Ambassador, be quiet!" shouted Anderson. "As for the rumors of Shepard's survival, I've taken matters into my own hands on that front. I've sent a message inviting Shepard to come speak with me."

Elsa perked up at this. That explained Anderson's lightened mood.

"Councilor, you can't be serious!" protested Udina. "Shepard died on the Normandy, and even if the rumors were true, they say he's working for terrorists! Cerberus, even!"

The shouting match came to an abrupt halt, however, as the majority of the Omnitools in the room chirped with an incoming message. Although they had been set to silent, the message had been marked "High Priority", and had overridden the mute. Elsa opened the message, and barely made it to the end of the first sentence before her stomach dropped. The words "King Olaf" and "assassinated" hit her like a knife in the gut.

She shot up from her seat, excused herself, and left the room. Behind her, she could hear Udina beginning to complain about her departure, before the force of a dozen glares got the desire for his silence across.

It was taking an obscene amount of willpower to stop the snail-trail of ice that threatened to form beneath her feet, but she was managing it. Her control had grown over the centuries, but her powers were still powerfully affected by her emotions.

She had known Olaf since he was a newborn infant, and had found in him a sort of kindred soul. His parents, Prince Christian and Princess Hannah, had died in the same tragic accident that had killed his grandfather, Prince Michael. At the age of ten, he had been left orphaned, and at twenty, he had been thrust upon a throne he had not expected, at the death of his great-grandmother.

Elsa had expected Olaf's death, an expectation that came from age, but this was sudden. Olaf wasn't infirm, he was as healthy as any seventy-two year old could expect to be. It was sudden, it was unforeseen, it was...

It was a murder.

Elsa threw the sky-car into autopilot, allowing it to take her home. The manual controls had gained a thick coating of ice, rendering them inoperable. It hadn't been long since the last murder of a member of the House of Arendelle, and the wound was still fresh.

A member of C-Sec met her at the doorway to her apartment. Apparently, he was to stand guard until a Systems Alliance Marine could relieve him, who himself would be replaced by an Arendellian Royal Guard as soon as possible. It was simply protocol that when a member of the Royal Family died under suspicious circumstances, all members of the Family were put under armed guard.

Being stabbed through the heart counts as "suspicious".

Officially, Elsa was a distant cousin of Olaf's, roughly fortieth in line or some ridiculous number. Not even the guard who would be assigned would know the truth - not that anyone outside the Royal Family knew the truth.

A few hours later, the knock came at the door. An Arendellian Royal Guard, in the ceremonial uniform, was waiting to escort her to the waiting transport. It was a straight journey from the Widow Nebula to the Local Cluster, only a few hours. It was one Elsa made multiple times a year. This would not be the first royal funeral Elsa had attended. It seemed that fate, to make up for the fact that she had missed her parents' funeral, had decided to let her bury more relatives than anyone had any right to. She just hoped that this would be the last one for a decade.

As it turned out, that hope was in vain.