Chapter 3: 'Small' Blaze


"Thank you, Milord…"

Elsa listened as a man's elderly-sounding voice gave thanks to her father, the King. It wasn't surprising to hear grateful supplicants praising or thanking her father from time to time; she had no doubt that her father was a good king. In her personal opinion, King Agdar was the greatest king who ever ruled Arendelle.

"...and may the gods of the Aesir bless your reign. 'Hagl Gramr.'" The supplicant finished with complimentary well-wishes.

It was always weird to hear people end their gratitude in this way; Elsa never really understood why some Arendelle citizens referred to the 'gods of the Aesir' anymore, especially the old people. After all, the major religion in Arendelle was Christianity—at least now it was. Her whole family—she didn't know about the rest of the royal staff—but she and her family were professed Christians. Elsa was aware, however, of the historical significance of religion in Arendelle's past. She was well-versed in the family's history and how that, way back in the past, Arendelle was a Viking kingdom. The Vikings of Arendelle, or Arendallr as it was originally called then, were worshipers of the Norse gods of old, the Aesir.

The Aesir were a race of gods who inhabited the ethereal realm of Asgard; that was the definition by what Elsa had read in the book she and Anna found in the library last week. The Aesir included gods like: Odin (leader of the gods), Loki, Baldr, and Heimdallr. Even famous ones like Thor, and Idun—whom her mother was named after.

A few moments later, Elsa could hear the whole court moving again whereas before it had previously been as quiet as the Royal Chapel during service. It seemed as if a new supplicant was being brought in. Elsa couldn't tell too much, she'd been uncomfortably hiding behind one of the big pillars that held the huge ceiling of the Great Hall aloft like marble oak trees. As much as she wanted to, Elsa didn't want to risk peering over the pillar to get a better lookout so that she could find Anna. Or, if for anything else, see what was going on in court.

Finally, her father spoke; and his voice, deep-toned and resounding, made itself known once again, as it had always done in the past, with a kingly air of majesty. It was like hearing the mountain breeze blasting it way from the alps and showering down to cool the sunny villages below.

"Shall we all quiet down!" The Hall falls silent, "Thank you. Well then, have we any more supplicants that I shall attend to?"

"A few more, my Lord!" Another old man spoke; judging from his aristocratic tone of speaking, Elsa could only guess that this was one of father's boring, old chancellors.

"Alright, how few?" Her father inquired.

A short stirring of the court and a whisper here and there, then the answer; "Eight more, Your Highness."

"Eight? Is that all?" The King asked for surety, "Are you sure?"

"We are certain, Sire!" Another court minister, a rather weak-sounding one, answered.

"Good," said her father, "I'd smile with the knowledge that there is only a few left, but as experience has shown me more than once, a few little matters have the potential to create problems as big as the North Mountain itself."

At that, the whole court burst into a short uproar of laughter. Elsa didn't really get the joke, that is, if it was a joke. She knew her father well, and had always known that whenever her father said something serious in a seemingly joking manner—what he said were serious words nevertheless. Elsa didn't really pause to think about it then, but the her father was actually referring to her and Anna whenever they were causing trouble.

"Kai!" Elsa hears her father call the trusted Royal Steward.

"Yes, Sire!"

"Would you please send the next one in?"

"Right away, Sire!"

"Thank you, Kai!"

It took only a few seconds to get the next supplicants; and the hearing that was about to take place would make a lasting impression on the Princess Elsa for a sure amount of time...

"Your Highness," Kai presents, "Lords Leofric and Otto of the House of Grovengard."

A few shuffling, a movement of the court, and a whisper here and there; and then, the hearing began.

"Welcome," King Agdar says in a joyful, yet kingly tone, "May I ask what it is that troubles you?"

"Your Gracious Highness..." a man begins his speech, and Elsa thought he sounded pretty well-defined. Unlike other nobles she'd met or heard, this man sounded normal and educated. "...I am Otto von Grovengard, and this is my younger brother, Leofric."

In addition, the man's accent had a faint rough slur to it followed by a German-like cadence. Elsa guessed that these men wasn't from around here...

"We are citizens here, Milord..."

...or maybe they were.

"...and nobles from the Southern district of Arendelle. I do not know if you remember, but you appointed our uncle, Lord Peirce Von Grovengard, as the Head Bailiff of the Southern Treasury?"

"Yes-yes, I do..." King Agdar sounded somewhat certain, "I think—Sir Aarnes!" He called to the Master of the Treasury, Marten Aarnes. "Peirce Von Grovengard, isn't he the one—?"

"The one with the shrubbery, MiLord." Sir Aarnes answered.

'Shrubbery?' Elsa thought to herself, 'What are they talking about?'

"Yes! I remember." Elsa heard her father say, "And he was also the one responsible for handling a few of those financial issues involved with the farms down south, yes—a good man your uncle was! What seems to be the problem?"

"Well..uh...you see, Sire—" Lord Otto began, but didn't get to finish;

"Our uncle is missing, Your Highness." His brother, Leofric, interrupted.

There was a short silence at court. Then the stirring, side-discussions, and loud whispering began. It was only when the King spoke again, and the court gradually broke off into silence, that Elsa started to get interested.

"You say your uncle is missing, for how long?"

"Three days, Your Highness." The younger brother answers.

"Three days? Why wait too long? Why did you not inform me at an earlier time?"

"Well, we didn't know it ourselves until..." Leofric broke off with an air of awkward mystery, "—Until our aunt told us the news herself."

"And, when did your aunt tell you your uncle was missing?"

"Yesterday, my Lord." Otto, the older brother, hastily replied.

"Yesterday..." Elsa heard her father repeat it, she knew that when her father repeats something—he was thinking carefully.

"Do you have any knowledge on where he was last? Did your aunt say as much?"

"She mentioned that he was...out on an errand traveling here." Said Otto.

"On an errand? He was on his way here...hmm...there seems to be something...something missing here. Sir Aarnes!" Elsa nearly shook as her father's voice suddenly boomed.

But she couldn't help but wonder what her father was up to.

"Yes, MiLord!" Aarnes replied.

"Do we have the business records from the Southern district?"

"Ah-which ones, MiLord?"

"Yesterday's."

"Mmm...for the ones accounted for...ah—yes! Here is...yesterday's business records for the Southern district! Pardon me, Your Highness, but my papers here tend to get a little bit messy. Here we have it!"

"Good, now read to me the listings for the treasury."

"All of them, Sire?"

"Yes. All of them."

And so, needless to say, Elsa waited there for about five minutes to hear the monotonous humdrum of boring business-related accounts about money, notes, coins, land, finance and so on and so forth. Just then, her father spoke;

"There! Read it again!"

"...having delivered...a significant amount of 500 silver reins...and uhhh...commissioned two lesser bailiffs, Sirs Falkirk and Dromme, to retrieve the following resource earnings: twenty acres of farmland, a number of well-bred fjord horses, a working grain house, and...valuable produce worth 20,000 Kroner."

"Hmm...and ahh...who wrote this entry? Does it say?"

"Lord Grovengard's assistant, Sir Mulle." Sir Aarnes answers. Elsa listens as a few pages turn. "I would like to point out, Your Highness, that is a significant amount of earnings! But I wonder why I didn't get a promissory note of transfer for all this."

"What Marten?" King Agdar sounded puzzled now, "You mean to say that this transaction wasn't completed?"

"I'm afraid not, Sire."

There was a short and still silence as the court seemed dormant for just a minute. Then, just as Elsa was anticipating the apprehension of the matter, one of the court officials spoke;

"Or...unless someone stole those earnings after the transaction was made, then it would be convenient enough for the Head Bailiff, Lord Grovengard, to go missing." Elsa very well knew that voice, that familiar, old, but wise-sounding voice. That was her father's Prime Minister of the Realm, Sir Jonfinn Agnor.

"Yes!" Another court official agreed, "Yes. That would explain the late entry, a-and the kidnapping of the Head Bailiff—!"

"Well!" The King stepped in, "Let's not jump into conclusions just yet. There are still a few pieces missing in this puzzle. However, we must consider the fact that there has been some foul play at work here."

"I would go as far as to say that this 'business' has been going on for quite some time now." Said Sir Jonfinn; Elsa admired the way the Premier always seemed to sound positive and critical at the same time. The man could literally insult you without offending you. "If anything this corrupt has slipped past our noses, not to say that this is the first and only case, we do indeed have a problem with our financial security."

"Well said, Jon!" King Agdar complimented the minister. "I agree with you completely, and trust me—"

Elsa suddenly became aware of the fact that her father's voice doubled in volume.

"—this issue will be dealt with and it will come to an end. Now then! Lords Grovengard!"

"Yes, Your Highness!" Both men said simultaneously.

"What do you make of this whole...mishap here?"

"Well..." the older one began, "...our uncle...he's missing, Your—"

"Yes. I got that. This note...about your uncle's transactions—written yesterday—what do you make of it?"

For a total of ten seconds, nobody spoke. Elsa had noticed a slightly climactic frustration building up in her father's tone of voice. It was clear that he was not at all pleased. And then, King Agdar spoke;

"I see. Well..." the King's voice echoes, "It seems as if we have reached something here—Kai what time is it?!"

"Ah, a quarter past three, Your Grace."

"Good. I haven't much time, and I've got a big banquet set up for my Royal guests this evening so...we'll dismiss this hearing and I'll have the Royal Sentry investigate the matter further." Said the King.

Silence as thick as the ice itself filled the Great Hall, and a shock of surprise and suspense shot up Elsa's spine. What on earth was happening here?

"My Lord?" It was one of the brothers who said it, "I don't understand. Our uncle is—"

"Missing! Yes!" Elsa could hear her father stand up from his chair, "Yes, I've heard twice already! But I must be about my business, and this session has taken too long. Now the rest of the supplicants will have to wait until tomorrow. Kai!"

"Yes, Sire!" Kai calls back as you could hear him pacing over quickly towards the scene.

It was at this point that Elsa knew she couldn't hold back any longer. With all the unexpected action going on, how could she not look and see what was up? Besides her father was acting like someone she'd never even known before—he was doing something she'd never seen him do. What was he doing? Being a King? If so, it was this Kingly side of him she had never ever seen before or dreamed of ever seeing. With cautious wariness, Princess Elsa peeks over from behind the pillar and observed the event at hand.

There was her father, as she assumed, standing up as tall and lord-like as ever; and there were the two men—the nobles from the south!

"Uh..Y-Your Highness—" It was the tall, slim one with thick brown hair—the older brother, Otto, presumably—who stuttered his words like a cackling crow, "I-I-I...we don't un-understand...what is the meaning of—"

"Kai, would you please escort Lord Otto here, and his younger brother, to one of our most comfortable rooms?"

"Your Highness, we do not mean to stay here," said the shorter one, Lord Leofric, who had a very untidy mustache sitting under his nose, "We-we.."

"Oh yes, I know you don't. But you'll stay nevertheless." Elsa saw the immediate ice, stiff and stern, on her father's face. His eyes told it all—he knew something nobody else knew, or at least what she didn't know herself.

"Which rooms shall I escort them to, Sire?" Kai stood at the ready, as always.

"Hmm...let's see...the ones under the basement."

"The...dungeons, Sire?" Kai had one look of strange curiosity on his face. The two strangers hardly moved a muscle, Elsa presumed that they had been scared out of their wits.

"Precisely!" Elsa saw her father, the King, give one quick nod and the Royal Guards—four of them—came over beside Kai to take both men away. Kai immediately became aware of the situation, replied to the King with a strict nod, and hurried away with both men in the guards' custody. It all happened really fast.

Elsa couldn't have been more puzzled then. All she could really think of was how on earth her father could punish those men so quickly and so rashly. He barely had any evidence against them...or did he even have any evidence at all? It was horrifying. But then again, her father had his purposes and he had his reasons. It seemed as if some of the court people there agreed with her as well, they all still looked surprised.

"Oh, don't you all look at me like that. Those men were criminals!" Her father said with a stiff smirk. Prime Minister, Sir Jonfinn, who was standing by his side, nodded in agreement, but looked amazed just as well.

"But, Your Grace—" one of the court members began, "—how could you tell? We hardly had anything against those men, or any men rather. They were the nephews of Lord Grovengard, were they not?"

"Yes. So they said." Another official agreed. The loud whispers began again.

"Well they could have been lying!" One man cried out loud.

"Yes, they could have! All strangers to Arendelle are enemies to the country!" Another agreed with the latter.

"They weren't strangers, they were citizens here." An elderly councilman replied with half the sarcasm.

Elsa looked to her father who wasn't really doing anything. He just seemed to be standing there, well he was standing there...but he was thinking about something. He looked tensed, like a branch ready to snap, but instead...he just breathed in and smiled. Elsa was dumbfounded, but how could her father dismiss something that important and not look dumbfounded himself? King Agdar, as she knew him, was a man of principle, but this time it seems as if he was going against every principle he ever believed in.

"Yes! Yes!" Her father finally shut everyone up, "You're all very good at guessing! And you are all probably right, but you're all missing the evidence. As am I."

The court stayed quiet again; this time for the last time.

"And, until I have the evidence...those men are in my custody. Don't worry, they'll be treated proper. But as your King, trust me when I say that you can never trust men like that. That is all. Court is dismissed!"

And just like that, everyone stood up without another word. As Elsa looked around, she just realized how easily she could have been seen with everyone now moving all over the place. But before she could get back to her place behind the pillar, and maybe leave the Great Hall altogether, she saw something she wished she hadn't seen. Nope, it was someone. It was Anna...

"An—!" Elsa momentarily caught herself; and in good time, one of the Royal Guards just walked past the pillar she was scurrying behind.

'How am I gonna get Anna?' Elsa thought about it in distress, 'There's so many people!'

However, with just enough courage and determination, Elsa decided to look back to see if her sister was still there. She was, and very well hidden herself. Anna was standing undercover behind a narrow table that was right in between two Royal Guards. Elsa wondered how in the dead of night Anna got all the way in the back of the Hall with the hearings going on. In any case, Anna wasn't just here to watch, she was also here for the chocolate.

With a hasty air of desperation, Princess Elsa took it upon herself to try and get Anna in any way possible. That was not so easy, as Anna was oh-so-many feet away from her, but she had to do it. Now with all the action over and done with, it was harder for her to move from one pillar to another to get to where Anna was. After a few minutes though, slyly maneuvering herself, Elsa finally reached her little sister.

"Anna! Psst! Here now!" Elsa whispered, not so loud that everyone could hear, but loud enough. Anna did not even bother to try to turn around, but was very successful in sneaking a chocolate-fudge-filled Danish pie from the table full of guest desserts.

"A-Anna!" Elsa was calling out loud now...just a little bit.

Anna, who was busy gobbling down half of that pie, just happened to turn and see her from where she stood. Elsa was growing so impatient now that it became apparent how angry at Anna she was. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the big grin on her little sister's face, Elsa sneakily crouched over towards her.

"Anna. We need to get back to the library. Now." She said, slowly and calmly yet her tone was breathy. Anna couldn't really speak, well, not yet. Elsa waited for her to finish chewing and swallowing the pie...it didn't help to really watch.

"Okay! I—" Anna was about to let the whole world know they were right there sneaking behind a dessert table, but Elsa put a hand to shut her mouth in time. One of the guards slowly turned his head...but then just coughed.

"Anna, we have to go." Elsa whispered even more quietly as she gripped her sister's left hand; the one with sticky chocolate fudge on it.

"Okay." Anna nodded, whispering this time.

Elsa seemed happy about it, and as she turned to sneak both she and her sister out the Great Hall she felt Anna tug for just a moment. It only took a moment for trouble to happen.

"Wait, let me..get another chocolate before we—" Anna reached over.

"Anna, no—!" Elsa was going to tug her away but it was...too late.

Anna had her hand on one of the chocolate-fondue sticks and was just about to grab it out of the melting pot she just dipped it in when it all of a sudden tipped over. It was silent trouble—bad luck, really—taking its toll on both Princesses again. Elsa knew there was no stopping this now. The pot of melted, scalding-hot, chocolate fell over with a thud and all of that hot chocolate unfortunately got to the poor Guard who stood there right beside it. The man shouted, no—he shrieked like an elephant in distress, and leaped forward instinctively. The extremely loud exclamation of pain roused the Hall, and everyone there froze instantly.

The next few disasters happened so fast that Elsa knew it had to be some invisible devil behind it all. The guard who got hot chocolate all over his lower back and behind bumped into a sewer who carrying a big platter of food across the Hall who then slipped and fell backwards. The platter of food, which comprised of half-sandwiches and jam, flew through the air towards a number of nobles and officials. One of the half-sandwiches flew into one of the noble's (conveniently, a fat one) wide open mouth, which then caused him to start choking and gagging in a seriously violent manner.

"Oh my goodness! That man is choking!" Another noble pointed out the obvious. The man beside him hastily acted, he ran over to try and help the choking man by constricting his chest in an embracing manner.

When the sandwich was finally coughed out it flew off with tremendous force and struck a small chandelier on the wall. One of the candles fell over and...you can pretty much guess what happened next—

"FIRE!" One of the Royal Guards again pointed out the obvious.

'Fire!' Elsa thought to herself.

"Uh-Oh." Anna muttered in total shock and guilt.

Elsa suddenly felt Anna tug at her sleeve. "Elsa! Do something!" Anna screamed. Elsa's eyes grew bright like a furnace, and she saw how quickly the fire spread over the wall and now it was climbing down towards the floor. Instinctively, Princess Elsa did what she had always done in case of a fire emergency. Hurriedly and without any hesitation, Elsa found the spot on which the fire burned and drew up her arms to cast a bolt of ice or frost or something, but then—

"ELSA!" Her father suddenly grabbed her arms just before she could work any magic, "No! No. Go and get your sister out of here—NOW!"

Elsa took one swift look into her father's face, saw the stern seriousness there, and decided it was time to get out. Grabbing Anna, she ran out of the Hall in more than a hurry, despite Anna's desperate pleas to stop for a break. When they finally made it back to their rooms, Elsa plopped down on the bed, let out a long and terrible sigh, then closed her eyes. It all happened so fast, she thought, putting her arms over her face.

"Elsa." Anna called to her just then in an anxiously worried voice. Elsa took another breath, she couldn't take anymore of this.

"What Anna?"

"You think we're in trouble again?"

Elsa looked back at her little sister. Anna looked sincere, but it was surprising at how naive she was. It didn't matter.

"Anna..." Elsa's voice trailed off, "I think we should've just built a snowman."


"How long, you think, does it possibly take to hear a case for two people?" A short peasant man complained.

"Don't know. But I do know one thing," said his fellow, another short male, "—those two don't belong 'round here. Not southern men like that!" With that remark, both men spat to the ground.

It was a little bit past three now, and the remaining six supplicants—a very short remnant of the thirty-two who were in line to be there—still awaited, with growing impatience, for the King. These six were an interesting few: 4 peasant men, a butcher's widow, and a tall boy who carried a journal and a satchel with him.

Of the six of them, the only two who were really quiet were the boy and the widow—well, the woman was asleep. The young boy, a lad with thick, black, fair-straight hair, stood silently by. He was an observant lad, but tended to look like he was minding his own business; a hushed raven, a still witness to whatever he saw or heard. He seemed aware now, however, not because he'd been waiting there himself for what seemed like...forever, but because these men in front of him seemed too rude to know their place. In all honesty, he was more interested in those two noblemen these men were talking about even though they did seem a little...suspicious.

He did wonder why it was taking too long though...

"Come on! What's taking so long!?" The same man earlier spat again.

The young lad, having a high sense of respect and loyalty for the 'Royalty' and the royal ground on which they spat on, had enough of it—these rude fellows. Breaking through the bubble of muteness that covered him from the scene, the boy spoke;

"You know, you shouldn't be spitting on the courtyard floor." All eyes suddenly turned to him—hard penetrating eyes like those of a group wild cats, "I mean, this 'is' the Royal Courtyard..."

Two of the men started to walk over towards him.

"...a-and, it's the Royal Castle." He gulped, "..with Royal...Guards."

"Who are you, boy?" A short, heavy-set man interrogated him, "Hadn't been speaking this whole time, so who are you?"

"Yeah. What's your name." Another man said in a slow, rough and breathy fashion.

"Ah-I...uhh...umm...I—" He stuttered and stammered, then momentarily found his voice and stood high, "Well, I-I am...Erik—"

"Erik who?" Another man snickered.

"Erik, uh, Christensen."

"Well...Erik...Christensen!" The man closest to him moved closer still, "Who are you to tell us where to spit or where not to?"

"You look a little bit too well-dressed for your lot, boy." The fourth man spoke up, distantly eyeing his sateen trousers, velvet waistcoat, linen shirt, and woolen overcoat. "You from the south too?"

"From the south?" Erik looked down and examined his clothes; they were one of his last sets of clothes—a gift from his uncle, "What, no! No, I'm just..."

"A rich lad!" The man closest to him, now heavily breathing on him, exclaimed.

"A nobody." Another added.

Just then, the doors to the castle keep—the Great Hall—opened momentarily...then it closed. A man came out, a big short man, with six of the Royal Guards behind him. This must be Sir Kai, the young boy who was being harassed thought' he'd been told about the Royal Steward on more than one occasion.

"The King sends his deepest apologies, good citizens, but he has called off the 'Felles Bønn' until tomorrow." Sir Kai announced.

The butcher's widow was awake now, and the other peasant men were crying out in anger. It nearly got very violent, but the Royal Guards stood there with their swords and their pikes.

"But we've been waiting all day!" A big man growled.

"And I have mouths to feed!" The widow started wailing.

"We want to see His Royal Highness!"

The Royal Guards looked to Sir Kai who was just standing there staring at everyone for a minute. He really looked sorry, but that was no justification for all the turmoil these people were purposely causing. Then, Sir Kai moved down to personally address them all eye-to-eye.

"You've been waiting here all day, you say? I'm sorry..I truly am, I am sorry." He told them, "But—"

"But we've been waiting out here the whole day!" One of the other men grumbled loudly.

"Yes. And we deserve to—!" Another started, but Sir Kai had had enough of it;

"The King! Has heard cases ALL day long himself! He has sent me out here to personally write down your names so that he'll know who he is to attend to first thing in the morning. So, if you cannot consider that fact, then I wish you good riddance!"

They were all hushed up then, and Sir Kai never kept his eyes off of them. One of the peasant men nodded and sighed. "So, you'll make sure we're the first ones tomorrow then?" He said.

Sir Kai's face had only an expression of indifference. "Yes. Of course."

The lead man turned back and nodded to his fellows, but as they all turned to leave, he said one more thing;

"We had better have it tomorrow." He then spat on the ground. Kai furrowed his brows, then reproved him;

"You know this courtyard takes a lot of work to clean. The next time you spit on these grounds, I'll have His Most Royal Majesty know of it and it'll be the last time you set foot here. That, sir, is a complete violation of the law on grounds of contumacy."

The man looked back to Sir Kai, a look of uneasy apprehension on his face, and he reached into his breeches-pocket to take out a piece of cloth—a handkerchief. Stooping down, he wiped the courtyard floor clean of his spittle.

"Thank you very much, and again," Sir Kai's stern expression never faded, "The King sends his apologies."

The men give their final grimaces, then set off out the gate in a hurry. Erik looked back and turned to see the widow wiping her tears; then with a horrible sigh that sounded as if she'd caught a cold, the lady scampered off with the rest.

"Staying for a bit, lad?" Sir Kai put a hand on Erik's shoulder; the boy smiled back.

"No, sir..." He then looked back towards the gate, "I don't think those men understand the meaning of 'contumacy.'"

"Oh no, I doubt that they do." Erik found the Royal Steward's face and tone of voice much less strict, instead the man looked quite weary, "But...it does sound a lot better than if I had said that they had committed 'treason' now does it?" The man smiled down at him; he nodded back.

"What's your name son?"

"Erik...Christensen." The boy answered slowly.

"And how old are you?"

"Fifteen, Sir."

"What's a boy of fifteen doing here alone? Do you have a family or, pardon me, a family issue?" Sir Kai seemed curiously interested, "Your mother or father?"

"No, sir. I uhh...my mam and dad are back home."

"And...where is home?"

"I'm from Denmark, sir."

"Oh, I see." Sir Kai regarded the young boy carefully. Erik tried to keep his gaze from wandering. "So, are you here all by yourself?"

"Here—? Oh, no sir. I have..uh..an aunt and uncle...here. They're actually from here."

"Well..." Sir Kai took a deep breath, then put both hands on the boy's shoulders, "I'm sorry, you look like a good lad..of the goodliest sorts of lads, and I like you lad. I would let you in to see the King in private, but I don't...I don't think that I could with all the 'drama' that just took place in there." He said that last part in a slight whisper. Then he puffed out the air from his cheeks while his eyes bulged open momentarily in a gesture to emphasize that fact.

'Drama?' Erik thought to himself. He wondered what it was. "I understand. Thank you, Sir Kai."

"Why, you're very welcome there young man." Sir Kai patted his shoulder, then nodded to the guards who then opened the gates, "And if you ever need anything, you can always find me here...or sometimes at the Fishmonger's Pub in town," He whispered that last part, "But don't tell anybody."

"Of course, sir." Erik grinned, "Thank you, sir!"

Sir Kai nodded back to him, and with that the Royal Steward swiftly ran back into the castle-keep entrance, into the Great Hall, to resume his royal business...

As Erik walked across the courtyard and back towards the gates, he thought about something. What in the world was he doing here? Sure, he was here to try to make a living, but all he really wanted was to see the Royal Family and have a taste of the court-life here up north. That...and maybe get a permit to start his own printing press.

Then suddenly, as he was about to exit through the gates, he heard a loud outbreak of alarmed shouts and shrieks coming from inside the Castle Keep. How odd, he thought, this place really is. However much he tried, he knew that he could never know what went on inside there..though he wished he did or could.

A few moments after he had gone out the gates and was walking halfway through the long-bridge—a horn was blown to sound the alarm for trouble. Someone was in trouble.


The wagon-carriage slowly bounced up and down as it made progress along the rocky road. After its rough journey across the North Mountain pass, it seemed as if it was only a matter of time before its wheels would collapse, but yet it strove on—onwards to the south. Inside the carriage, two men were talking about something.

"The Grovengards would have failed you by now." One man, a shadowy figure with a Swedish accent, spoke, "What will you do now?"

"How would you know this, exactly?" The other man, a proud-looking, well-dressed, proud-sounding noble, curiously inquired.

"Trust me, I know." The hooded figure said with a smile, "You don't have to be a fortune-teller to see the future. All you have to do is read the conditions at hand to make solid prediction. But...that's not important, what is important is your next decision."

"I wasn't counting on those two idiots to fail." The nobleman replies, an angry growl building up behind his tone, "One would think a hundred-thousand Kroner a very hard fortune to lose."

"Yes. Quite." The hooded man stared out the window for a second, then he quickly turned to his companion to face him, "But—! Suppose they did fail. Let's assume they had been found out, what will you do then?"

At this, the nobleman took a deep sigh. He seemed to be thinking about it, in fact the look in his eyes slowly changed from completely at ease to mildly apprehensive. He hadn't come up with a plan if the Grovengard brothers did fail him. Was it really possible for them to fail? No, they wouldn't.

"They're smarter than that. I'm sure they'll think of—"

"No-no. You very well said yourself that they were idiots, did you not?" The mysterious man teased. "But I can tell you're worried, so here's my proposition. My men are still holding Pierce Von Grovengard at Thoradell Fjord, as soon as we get to the Southern ports you say the word and I'll have the man disappear, along with all the other...evidence." He said with careless risk which was then followed by a drawn out laugh.

"How can you possibly be so lax?" The nobleman snapped, "You cannot make a light matter out of this! You underestimate the Kingdom of Arendelle, my friend."

"NO—Arendelle underestimates the 'Creed'!" The man in the hood suddenly roared, "The Creed is the sure ruin of all that you see here. Our Order will bring Arendelle and all the other Southern Kingdoms under the control of the 'Creed'; and when that is done, the rest will follow. We have the means, the money, the eyes, and all the men necessary to complete our course. What does Arendelle have? A castle not worth defending, a King who has no wisdom, who has a handful of men too few to be called an 'army', who has a few little ships too scanty to even be a 'navy'!" He then pulls the curtains of the carriage window back to reveal a group of frowning farmers working the soil of the countryside of southern Arendelle, "And citizens who do not like their brothers and their own King up north. What else does Arendelle have? Hm? Oh yes, I forgot—ICE! Ha!" He then burst into a maniacal, mocking and scolding laughter that could've been heard outside.

But the nobleman there sitting in the carriage with him was not convinced. "Arendelle," he began in a low-pitched voice, "is in an alliance with Harlindallr which not only is a very crucial port-kingdom, but is also a close ally with all of the major Duchies and Kingdoms of the Baltic States and...of the Kingdom of Norway, do not forget that."

"Oh. I haven't. You can be sure of that." The hooded figure pointed a straight finger at the noble, "But mark my words well, that will change very soon."

The nobleman looked surprised to hear that; he wasn't expecting such a bold reply. He wanted to ask how soon and how it was to be changed, but then disregarded it completely. Slowly, he leaned over to his companion and glared at him in a very serious manner.

"And don't you forget...if it were not for my help, neither you nor your 'Order' would've ever known about Arendelle. You'd never have gotten this far. So my decision will stay, regardless if the Grovengards fail; no one will touch the Head Bailiff and no one will act against the Kingdom...not just yet."

"Yes. Of course." The hooded figure seemed content, but as the noble looked the other way he shot a sharp, ugly look the man's way. Then he shifted in his own seat, thinking of his own plans and intentions. He smiled...it wouldn't take long at all.


Tired though he was, King Agdar felt no need to rest. The day had been long—longer than usual, and the sun was, no doubt, already setting outside. The King of Arendelle could smell the nauseating stench of burnt taffeta filling the Great Hall like smoke in a furnace. He was glad he'd acted fast enough; fire was no joke, it could spread faster than any parasite, and if helped by the wind—than any plague.

Hearing the alarm that had been sounded by the horn, King Augustus dropped everything and immediately made for the Great Hall where all the drama was situated. On arrival, he saw that everything had gone into chaos, somewhat, and inquired of his brother what had happened.

"A fire." Said Agdar; Augustus raised his brows.

"A fire?"

"Yes, a fire." King Agdar gestured for a few men to take the burnt curtains out the Hall. "No need to worry, it was only a small blaze."

"Who started the fire, Agdar?"

King Agdar stared at his brother for a moment, looked up and sighed then answered; "I...I don't know. I'll take care of it."

Thus saying, King Agdar paced upstairs in a half-irritated manner and made for his daughters' room. He wasn't so worried about the trouble that they had caused, or even the lives they did harm, so much as he was concerned about their own welfare. Well...no, he was worried about all the people that could've been hurt in that little incident, but that was King-side talking. He, as a father, however, was all the more troubled about his girls...about Elsa.

What could have happened if he hadn't been able to stop his eldest daughter from using her powers—her forbidden magic? Nobody had known of his magical heir's powers for as long since she had been born. He made sure that it would be kept as a sworn family-secret, and that he would be the guardian of that secret for as long as he lived. Only a selected few, as far as he knew, were aware of Elsa's magical abilities.

Quietly, the King knocked on his daughters' door. And it was Anna who opened it.

"Papa?" His younger daughter looked up at him through the small creak on the door; she'd left a very small creak so that only a faint ray of light from the bright hallway shone into the dark bedroom.

"Anna." He smiled faintly, "May I come in, my dear?"

Anna nodded as she opened the door. Agdar smiled down at her again, and entered the bedroom as his daughter closed the door behind him. It was as dim as midnight in the room, and a little bit gloomy as well. The King of Arendelle gulped a bit as he looked around the room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dark.

'This room needs a candle,' he thought, 'I'll need to get some light in here.'

"Anna, where's your sister?"

"She's over there." Anna silently pointed towards Elsa's bed on the adjacent side of the room close to the window. Agdar nodded, but it was still too dark to see much.

Anna skipped over daintily and led him by the hand towards Elsa's bedside. When he could finally see as much, he turned over to where the lamp was and switched the lantern on. The faint light seeped throughout the room like a smoky fog for a second, then dimmed to where it only illuminated the space around Elsa's bed.

"I'll have to replace this lamplight soon." Agdar said. Anna examined his tired face with wide eyes.

"You don't have to replace my lamp, it works just fine." She said. He smiled at her again, but knew she was worried about something.

"Let's see if we can find your older sister, shall we?" Said the King, as he looked over Elsa's untidy bed. It looked as if she'd been keeping a cat in here. "She's somewhere around here, right?"

"Right! She's over here!" Anna had gone over to the other side of the bed, "I found her!"

Agdar came around the bed and found Elsa withdrawn over to the corner of her bed, face to the wall, in a secluded manner. Anna ran over and put a hand on her sister's shoulder. The King observed silently.

"What's wrong Elsa?" Gently, Anna shook Elsa's shoulder, "You didn't tell me you were mad about something."

"'m not mad." Elsa muttered; a faint mumble lost in some silence. She never turned around.

"Okay then...why are you sad?" Anna's persistent and sincere zeal knew no bounds.

"I'm not sad." Elsa answered, this time her voice grew to a noticeable degree of volume. Agdar decided to intervene.

"Anna." He called, Anna looked back. "Come here, sit down."

Anna did as she was told, and watched as her father slowly came over to where Elsa was slouching against her bed. Tenderly, King Agdar, slowly bending down, wrapped his spacious arms around Elsa, his beloved daughter. Picking her up off the floor as one would a precious pet, Agdar sighed and kissed her on the head; the light, fair, delicate strands of platinum-blond hair felt like the softest silk on his lips.

"Hoghhh...min 'Gaerr Snjarfnukk'..." He cooed affectionately. Elsa looked into his eyes, she slept in his loving, understanding eyes. Agdar knew she knew what he had said, what he had called her.

Ever since she could walk, Elsa could understand him whenever he spoke the Old Tongue—the ancient words of their Royal Viking ancestors—to her. He had taught her how to speak High Arendalsk, or as was commonly called—Háendal Mál; although it was now a nearly extinct dialect among the Common Public, and spoken only by a very few of the High Nobles and Northerners. He tried to teach Anna too, but she was content with the Common Tongue—Norroenn, or now more familiarly known as—Norwegian.

Now, he called her by the name that he had given her on her birthday, as he'd always called her, in the Old Tongue: 'Gaerr Snarfnukk,' or 'Dear Snowflake.'

Still holding her in his arms, Agdar sat down on Elsa's bed next to Anna and again, spoke to comfort and reassure her;

"Elsa, Jek elsgé dek." He stared into the blue ice deep in the middle of her eyes, "Tu veita Jek géa. Ek...tu veita tu fodelle meka hva eidvedna."

Elsa nodded slowly, a small smile started at the corner of her mouth. He'd told her that he loved her, and that she knew that he did, and how that she knew she could tell him anything. Anna, who had also been listening, could do nothing but scratch her head in confusion as she'd always done every time they talked this way.

"Jek elsgé dek dil." Elsa spoke now, her voice very soft; Agdar smiled lovingly. "Svi...e Jeg í varfiði ná?" She asked him if she was in trouble. He only softened the loving expression on his face.

"Trouble? No..." He pressed Elsa closer to his chest, "No, my sweet, you're not—"

"Trouble?!" Anna suddenly jumped, it was as if that was the exact word she had been waiting for, the only word she heard, "Papa no! It wasn't Elsa! It was me! It was me who did it! It's all my fault! Please don't make Elsa be in trouble, she was just trying to stop me, she was just doing what you told us to do! I was the one who caused all the trouble, the one who should be in trouble. Papa, I—"

Anna, who was clearly close to tears in all her sincerity, was interrupted by her father who took her in his left arm, hushing her momentarily. Pressing her closely to him, he took a deep breath as he kissed his youngest on her forehead.

"Anna..." he stretched out her name, rubbing the angelic freckles on her forehead and temples, "Nobody will be punished. I love the both of you too much to do so. And I understand that you're both still very young, and that girls—especially little princesses—" he tickles both girls playfully, causing each to jerk and thrash around while bursting out giggling, "—tend to make mistakes. Of course, I was a bit of a troublemaker myself as a young prince."

Both of his girls laugh at this—especially Elsa. He knew that she alone believed that he was and had always been perfect, she was wrong, but she was also young. Humble though he was, it felt good to be admired. He was happy here with his daughters and in all fun, he started to laugh along with them.

"Oh, alright-alright. Girls!" He turned to look each of them in the eye, "I think its time for a break from all this trouble, what do you think?"

"Yes, papa!" Elsa nods.

"Mmhm!" Anna jumps.

Agdar let out another series of laughter, before proceeding. "Yes, good. Let's see if everything is fixed downstairs; that banquet should be getting on by this time. Anna, go run off and find your mother, she should still be in the drawing room next to the Gallery talking with a few noblewomen; tell her that we'll be helping prepare the banquet."

Nodding with a grin above her chin, Anna sped off without any hesitation whatsoever. Agdar was left alone in the room with his beloved heir.

"Father?" He heard her voice call from behind, he turned to her.

"Yes, dear?"

"Those men. At the Felles Bønn. The ones who—"

"—I sent to the dungeons, yes?" He finished for her, it was tough to keep a straight face. But he had to. So, she had seen it all after all...just as he feared. She nodded. He sighed deeply.

'She's growing up. I might as well explain myself as well I could.' He thought carefully before he spoke. "Elsa. Listen to me carefully. You are my eldest daughter and my heir. I am very proud of you." He ruffled her hair playfully, "Now, you may think it strange for me to do what I did, to act the way I had acted back in that hall. I don't accuse your judgement, it was, after all, the first time you saw your father as the 'King of Arendelle' at his true nature. But don't let that side of me blur your pride in who you know I truly am, your father. Now I ask you, do you trust me?"

Elsa nodded right away, as he knew she would.

"You do. So, I want you to understand that whatever choices I make as King I am also making them as your father, who loves you above anything else. Remember, just because the snow feels cold does not mean that it is not also warm. Remember the snow cave?" Elsa nodded again, he kissed her lightly on the brow. "Good. Trust me, as soon as everything unravels, it will all make sense. You just wait and see. Whatever is puzzling you will become as clear as ice. I love you...min Gaerr Snjarfnukk."

After that, Agdar walked with Elsa downstairs hand-in-hand. He was more tired than ever, all the day's trouble now took its toll on him. But that was just a 'small blaze', the real bonfire was just waiting to be lit.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: 'Kay...well, I lied, this chapter is longer than the last one. Actually its longer than the last two, sorry. However, I justify my means with the fact that my plot is really starting to develop and I need A LOT of words to speed up that process. Remember: this is still only part one of a three part plot line in this fic.

As for the 'High Arendalsk' dialect, it is, again, completely fictional so do not freak out. I made it up, though it is based on Norwegian(specifically Arendalsk) and Old Norse, and other Scandinavian-based languages.

In all honesty, I'm not convinced with this chapter, I was going to add more to it, but thought, 'Hey, I've taken long enough to write this chapter anyways, don't want my readers to nap on it now, do I?'

Frozen is Disney's original masterpiece, not mine at all.

P.S. I CANNOT WAIT FOR FROZEN 2!