FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY

Chapter 4

I'll Still Be Here In The Morning

A/N: Queen Elsa must move quickly. The Company's wealth and military strength grows by the day, and Elsa and Anna need powerful allies if they are to prevent Kristoff's self-destructive path. They must match his rage against Hans and the world with an equal determination to stop the Company! The shadow of war between Kristoff and Weselton looms over the horizon. There's not much time left for the Arendellian monarchy. Will Elsa's Crown be reduced to a puppet symbol?

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It was dinnertime, and Reimund couldn't believe his luck. He was wining and dining with two royal sisters in their magnificent palace. One was Arendelle's Princess and the other his Queen. They were kind. They were welcoming. They seemed genuine. He couldn't help but notice their beauty. For an overworked journalist like him who rented a grubby shoebox apartment in the heart of Arendelle and considered a piping hot meat pie and cigar a luxury, this was an unmatched honor.

"Is it good?" asked Elsa hopefully, watching the political correspondent of The Witness wolf down the mashed potatoes, before moving quickly on to the roast pork and apple sauce. The three sat together at the edge of a long table, which was decked from one end to another with lavish dishes and treats for dessert. Venison, stuffed goose, seasonal berries and imported fruits from elsewhere, the finest Arendellian chocolate fondue, pound cake, and so much more… it was so extravagant it was almost shameful. The siblings peered at the hungry commoner with a mixture of expectation and amusement. Elsa looked radiant in her signature azure, crystal dress and cape, whilst Anna had donned her favorite black top and lime blouse. They had purposefully prepared this generous feast for him. He didn't dare believe it, but this was really not a dream.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," warbled Reimund, covering his stuffed mouth as he struggled to give a dignified answer. His white shirt's front already had a large gravy stain: thank goodness he'd draped his brown jacket behind his chair. "You think me an influential writer, but that has no bearing on my very humble finances." He gulped down his bite, and took a deep breath, adjusting his spectacles. "Your Highness, are you finished eating already?"

"Yup. And please, Reimund," said Anna, taking a sip of grape juice in her glass (she was a bit more careful with wine ever since she broke a chandelier in a drunken romp with Kristoff), "I'm calling you by your first name. Why don't you call me by mine?"

"Anna's right," said Elsa, nodding at a mortified Reimund encouragingly. "You're not a servant. You're a journalist employed by a private company, and now I've asked you to stake your professional life on our… struggle to wake up Kristoff. Titles and accidents of birth aside, let's work together as a team. As equals."

Reimund set down his knife and fork, bowing his head in respectful gratitude. "I will never forget this gesture of utter generosity. I'll also never forget your humility, which more than legitimizes your right to reign," he declared. "To return your kindness as soon as possible, I don't want to relax for too much longer. If I may, Your Majesty… I mean… Elsa… I'd like to propose to you and… Anna… how we may start putting pressure on the North Mountain Company."

Reimund's pale cheeks blushed. Calling them by their intimate first names almost seemed wrong, but if they wanted it, then…

Elsa nodded eagerly, leaning forward slightly from her chair. "I'm all ears, Reimund."

"We journalists are obsessed with framing narratives for our readers. We need to offer the public two perspectives: the first will persuade them that they can trust you and Anna about your opinions. On that front, we've got a huge advantage over Kristoff and his friends. Kristoff might be famous, but he's not exactly charming. Yet we common people adore our Queen and her heir apparent," he reminded Elsa and Anna pointedly. The young women glanced at each other sheepishly. "So along that strategy, I'd like to publish a few interviews with you in The Witness. We'll present to everyone your views about the Company there. That should generate some buzz and open a debate."

"I suppose it's true," admitted Anna. "If we don't favor the Company, others might start asking why."

"And as they do so, we'll try to persuade them by force of your personalities. My ladies, I'll being doing several features about you two to utterly seduce and captivate readers to our side. Kristoff will very soon discover he can't control your voices, nor the influence The Witness has over its readers."

"I'm not good with interviews, so you'll have to guide me. I think Anna would be much smoother at sharing her thoughts," sighed Elsa.

"Don't let me blurt out something stupid, though," quipped Anna.

"The second perspective will be harder. We need to feed our readers a steady stream of stories that reinforce a strongly negative image of the Company." Reimund glanced pointedly at Anna. "What do they mainly trade in?"

"Well, Kristoff is all about ice," said Anna thoughtfully, "but Elsa, didn't you get a report from the Prime Minister about the Company's Board of Directors…?"

"Yes. They have four Directors, including Kristoff, who is also the Governor." Elsa paused for a moment, thinking. "Four supreme leaders above their officers and sailors, four distinct industries. Apart from ice, I recall seeing fur, spices, and opium being the other main three."

Reimund nodded, sipping his glass of aged wine. "Well, there's nothing to get readers excited about ice, but we've got a perfect angle on fur. The trappers bash the skulls of seals and beavers before skinning them. That's the truth," he added, noticing Anna's horrified face, "no distortion there. Let's do a few reports about how cruel the Company's trappers are. Let's insinuate that they would gladly skin our readers' pets alive to make a quick gold coin. There's a weapon more powerful than muskets or even the facts: it's public perception."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably. "Reimund, I'm not so sure about the integrity of your plan – "

"I'm sorry, Elsa," interjected Reimund, raising an apologetic but firm hand. "Kristoff has the richest bankers and merchants of your empire on his side, and your public servants are comfortably tucked in his coat pocket. He's already got enough funds to pay his Presidency Armies. Do you really want a subject of your realm to be able to defy you with his own private armies? Armies loyal only to gold coins from him?"

Elsa stared at Reimund, horrified. "That would be treason!"

"Kristoff would never!" cried Anna, as if to reassure herself. But of late, she wasn't so confident in him.

"I don't want to imply anything. But we have to play dirty if we're going to agitate resentment and hatred against the Company. That's what you summoned me to do, and for you I'll gladly drag myself through the mud so neither of you have to." He paused. "I beg your forgiveness. That was the first and last time I'll ever interrupt my own sovereign so insolently."

Elsa looked down at the table, looking chastised. "Thank you for filling me with a much-needed dose of resolve. I must be stronger than this," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Please, continue."

Reimund glanced in slight panic at Anna. "Did I go too far?" he mouthed.

Anna grinned and winked. "She's not angry at all."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Reimund carried on: "Do we have any information on the other territories that the North Mountain Company wants to extract concessions or land from? Your government has already been ceded part of the Southern Isles. What's next?"

"My spies report that Hans fled to Weselton after my Royal Navy attached the Isles' ports, and is holed up in the Duke's castle. I have no affection for that dominion or for its ruler, for he called me a monster. But to be unable to stop Kristoff on his rampage of vengeance against Hans means that Weselton will be an innocent casualty of our expansionism too," sighed Elsa. "I despise the Duke, but I genuinely worry for his realm and his life."

"So the Company has set its sights on conquering Weselton," said Reimund. "Where else do they have interests?" His eyes widened in sudden realization. "Spice! Spices!" he exclaimed, pointing to the many wooden shakers on the table. "Where do you get all your spices from? The Company's officers, of course! And they had to have imported a great deal of it from Agrabah."

"Of course!" cried Anna. "Everyone's read about the homeland of the legendary pauper-turned-prince and his amazing genie. But it's kind of crazy the Company managed to sail that far and make a base there, too," she added, looking at a grim Elsa nervously.

"Well, that's why their merchants got together. To pool their resources into a single organization that can fight multiple fronts. To employ mercenaries to overpower those who don't want anything to do with them. So aside from the Southern Isles, Kristoff's allies have been moving against Weselton, and I'm sure one of the Company's leaders has traders and residents in Agrabah."

Elsa could tell that it wasn't just about the spices. She had never been to Agrabah, but when her late mother read bedtime stories to her and Anna, Agrabah seemed to lie far to the east. It seemed a powerful kingdom, much more ancient than Arendelle. "But I'm sure you're aware of the situation. Other states have been vying for the spice trade too. And to secure Agrabah's allegiance, the Company's recruited thousands of native men to be trained and employed in their Presidency Army. Protecting the spice routes means protecting the region's sovereignty and their own city ports," said Reimund.

"Agrabah is effectively a protectorate, then," replied Elsa, quickly catching on to the Company's methods: to divide and conquer entire continents. "Their leader must have struck a deal with the Company. Give the Company indirect control over taxes and military affairs, and maintain partial independence and treatment as more or less an equal by the Company's officers." I'm starting to get the hang of this now. It's a ruthless game, she thought somberly. With all its holdings and investments, the Company might soon have even more gold than my coffers. And they dare to recruit a private army in the open. They have neither shame nor fear.

"Agrabah's current Sultan is a woman," observed Reimund. "I hear she's sensible and knows when to back down from a fight – hence her acceptance of the Company semi-colonization of her territory. But I also read that she's a proud character. If you can convince her you actually don't like the Company and would like assistance in suppressing it, she would gladly rally her people to rebel in the name of independence… and that would make the headline that really sets our agenda." His eyes shone. "Elsa, I strongly recommend you summon Sultanah Mariam, direct descendant of the folk heroes Jasmine and Aladdin."

Elsa's eyes hardened in resolve. "Excellent advice, Reimund. Anna, summon my couriers and have them draft up an invitation to Mariam. I want to roll out the most lavish welcome my country can offer an equal monarch. I must convince her that our royal house is actually seeking to neutralize the Company's colonial excesses." She paused. "Reimund, do any of your colleagues know the movements of the Company in the coming few months?"

"One of their new ships, Predator, is sailing to Agrabah soon. The delegation of officers is led by one of the Company leaders, Stefina. She deals in the opium. Now that they've monopolized Agrabah's spice trade, they want to make every nation addicts to their drug," replied Reimund.

"Then have this particular Stefina deliver it to the Sultanah. We'll need Mariam's knowledge of the Company and the extent of its empire as much as we need Reimund's expertise."

Anna eagerly clapped her hands, laughing in glee. "A fellow royal in our court? I'm on board!"

Elsa drew herself up proudly. "Just as Kristoff has placed himself and three fellow Directors against the entire world, I, as Queen of Arendelle, must have a triad of allies to answer him: my dear sister, Reimund, and a fellow monarch."

The fun of the early evening had worn off. It was late into the witching hours, and she couldn't sleep.

Please, Elsa. Come to me, so I don't have to stumble into your room like a terrified girl… even though I sure feel like one.

Anna's hand trembled as she held a quill over the parchment. The candle had almost burned itself out. Soon, it would blow out, and Anna would have to reach for the lanterns. She had drawn back the curtains, seeking the beaming moon, but it was raining outside, and the stormy clouds had obscured eventide's only natural source of light. The vastness of her bedroom was a curse on these nights, and far from giving her space, it felt cold and unwelcoming.

The storm was coming. Anna never liked the lightning and thunder.

A slow knocking came from her door, and Anna sighed to herself in embarrassed relief. "I'm glad you came," she called softly.

"Dear sister," said Elsa, looking worried as she walked inside. Looking beautiful and slightly vulnerable in her sapphire nightclothes and black stockings, she quietly tiptoed over to Anna. "You aren't fast asleep yet?"

"I'm… I'm trying to write a letter to Kristoff." Anna swallowed, staring at the blank sheet of paper on her desk. Elsa watched her struggle to express herself (a rare sight), noticing that she had worn her green nightdress the wrong way round. "To tell him that if he doesn't stop disobeying you and come home… I have no choice but to make myself useful to you. To force him back, if that's what you need."

Elsa pursed her lips, her eyes shining in concern. "You don't have to do that. Just because I've written to Agrabah's monarch…"

"But I want to," interrupted Anna, smiling bravely. But her voice was shaking. "He needs to learn a lesson. He can't just turn against you, Elsa, and expect me to just follow him blindly along like some dumb dog – "

Elsa placed her hands on her little sister's shoulders. She sifted her fingers through the latter's red locks. "Dearest Anna. He'd never expect you to follow him. Why else do you think he hasn't taken you with him on his ship?"

"Honestly, I don't know which feels worse," croaked Anna.

"You've been so worried about this that you've become absentminded over everything else. You don't have to do this. This is a conflict between Kristoff and me, between the future paths this country can take. I only ask that you understand what you owe the Crown, and support me accordingly. I still bless your love for him. I still care for him. I could never hate him." She drew down, putting her face close to Anna's and nestling her chin on Anna's shoulder. Anna's mask slipped, and she closed her eyes in deep pain and sorrow.

"Elsa, I love you so much. And he means so much to me too. This is a family argument… times, like, a thousand or something."

Elsa chuckled. Even in her darkest moments, Anna had a way to make her laugh. "I'll always be here for you and him. We're trying to stop him from going down a dark road because of Hans' evil. That's all."

A single tear slipped down Anna's cheek. It wasn't easy to control herself anymore. And from Elsa's patient, inviting body language, she didn't need to either. Her hands left the quill and parchment and reached for Elsa's arms instead. She turned around and buried her face in Elsa's embrace, sniffling quietly. Elsa kissed her again and again, wrapping herself around Anna's trembling form until the pattering rain outside the castle was forgotten and the parchment lay ignored. "I'll hold you until your worried eyes close. The rain will be gone when you wake up. But I'll still be here in the morning," she cooed, whispering those words of comfort in Anna's red ear. Anna held onto Elsa tighter, and she'd never know when she had relaxed enough to loosen her grip. Only then did Elsa carefully carry her to her bed, and even then she kept the sleeping Anna warm until sunrise.

The Queen's alliance was slowly coming together. But how would they deal with their connected affections and conflicted tensions?

One month later

Beads of sweat rolling sensuously down their bare legs and torsos, the dancing girls stamped their jingling feet on the exquisitely patterned carpet, bowing and bending their slender hips to make way for the approaching opium dealer. Dressed in her sleek black and red Company uniform, Stefina made her way past the veiled slave girls and other members of the imperial harem. She first had to pass the courtesans, then the male courtiers with their veiled slave girls fanning their corpulent forms. Finally, she stopped at the dais, on which sat a languid figure smoking an opium pipe. The woman on the throne had a tanned, smooth complexion with calculating, calm eyes. Her ebony-black hair was rich and luscious. It spilled down loosely behind her bared shoulders, and her navel was exposed. Only a slain tiger's skin bound her torso, and her long legs were covered by a silken yellow dress with patterns of peacock tails. Her sandaled feet peeked out from the bright silk.

Stefina had travelled through the baking hot heat and the bustling, chaotic Agrabah marketplaces to arrive here, in the great palace of Mariam, distant heir to Sultanah Jasmine and her commoner husband, Aladdin.

"Greetings, Company director," said the Sultanah curtly, watching Stefina look around the half-open throne room-cum-courtyard. Her feline gaze was both scornful and suspicious.

"Hello, Mariam. I'm here on business, like last time," replied the opium dealer, with an equal amount of disregard and sarcasm. She pointedly didn't use Mariam's royal title. "The shipments have arrived, as you wanted. I'll talk to your taxmen about the payments. You have new prisoners and convicts in your dungeons, don't you? Hand them over to us and we'll whip them up into fighting men who can use muskets to fight off the other princes who are trying to take over your dominions."

Mariam brought her pipe, whose end was shaped like a cobra, to her arresting, red lips and inhaled. "You are aware that my enemies are trying to steal my land because of your very gainful plantations, yes?" she asked resignedly. The cloudy fog momentarily blunted her anxiety and frustration at the fact that it would take years for Agrabah to obtain the same kind of sailing and gunpowder technology as Arendelle's. She had done the best she could when the Company's merchants arrived at Agrabah's littoral ports: an alliance with the Company, she promised herself, would help her fend off the other princely powers surrounding Agrabah. But the merchants of Agrabah now depended on the Company's supply chains of spice, sugar, and cotton. Mercantile dependence led to military dependence on the growing Presidency Armies of the Company that were becoming a much more common presence in Agrabah's economic centers. It didn't help that the Company welcomed recruits of local birth, making Agrabah's economy and the Company even more reliant on each other. Eventually, such mutual reliance could end up in political submission – and the Sultanah had personally inspected the mighty cannons and muskets of the Company's ships and soldiers. It would be her, not the Company, to be forced to submit.

Mariam had no choice. Until there was an opportune chance for a war on equal terms, she would subject great Agrabah to this indignity of protectorate status. For now, Agrabah was a semi-colonized kingdom. She had to acquiesce to indirect foreign rule, but one day she would have her revenge on Arendelle, swore Mariam to herself silently. For Jasmine and Aladdin's legacy.

Stefina smirked inwardly, watching the once-proud ruling class of Agrabah succumb to the addiction of her irresistible poppies. The Company's opium was some of the finest in the world, and people of every class in Agrabah had embraced its refined qualities enthusiastically. The opium's symbolism of involuntary, resentful submission was positively… exquisite. She flicked back her brown hair and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "By the way, our most generous monarch invites you to join her all the way up north, in cold Arendelle," she added. She handed one of the servant girls a letter, signed and sealed with the coat of arms of the Snow Queen. "I was given this by an officer of the Royal Navy before leaving Arendelle. Sadly, I can't read it, sealed as it is and addressed only to you. Wouldn't you like to meet the monarch who helped our Governor found this magnificent corporation?"

Mariam's regal brown eyes narrowed as her attendant quietly glided over and placed the sealed letter in her outstretched hand. "You don't need to taunt me. I granted your goons extraterritoriality on one very simple condition: that you leave my people and I in peace. That means that you don't address me as an equal, let alone an inferior. You call me 'Your Majesty'. Understand? Our signed treaty, approved by your own Governor Kristoff, demands that."

Her lip curled, enjoying almost perversely Stefina's enraged glare. "Uncultured whore."

Stefina fumed, her hand briefly clenching in the itch to bash in the Sultanah's smug face. "At least you've got the good sense to know who's pulling the strings here. Don't forget, Mariam – there are plenty of other emirs and nawabs who'd gladly be a bit more obedient than you for the crumbs we toss for your kingdom. What a superior empire gives, it can take away!" she laughed spitefully, turning away and storming off. She pushed aside a terrified dancing girl, who tumbled aside. "I'm leaving this sweltering backwater!"

Mariam ignored the opium dealer and turned her attention to the envelope. She stared at the letter, which seemed authentic, and tore it open, looking suspiciously at the text. To her amazement, it was written in flawless, almost calligraphic Arabic. She had no idea Arendelle enjoyed scribes of this caliber. It read:

To Your Majesty Mariam, Sultanah of Agrabah,

I address you not as a ruler of a protectorate, but as an equal and fellow monarch. You might be shocked and suspicious at this assertion. You and your people have experienced firsthand the belligerence and gunboat diplomacy of the North Mountain Company. I assure you that the individual who helped me deliver this letter to you is not my friend. The North Mountain Company is not a corporation friendly to me, either.

Let me absolutely clear: the Company is acting on behalf of its Board of Directors, not on mine. It is a long story, and I cannot explain such a complex conflict in a short letter. But you know better than I, that in their greed to monopolize the world's spice trade, they make war with whomever they please and forge alliances with whoever suits their pursuit of gold. Your Majesty was only one of many victims. I know of more.

In my country, I am a symbolic head of state. Arendelle's constitutional monarchy severely restricts my powers to constrain or dissolve the Company. So I need allies. Allies to turn public opinion against the Company, and friends who can inspire entire continents and kingdoms to confront its excesses and military power.

I beg you to sail to my palace at Arendelle with an entourage of your elite guards. I will welcome you as my equal and, if you may allow me the honor, as an ally. Together, we can turn the tide against the Company. When we meet, I shall tell you how.

Yours warmly and truly, in regretful contrition and hope for forgiveness,

Elsa, Queen of Arendelle.

PS. Please do not forget to bring warmer attire. My kingdom is far colder than yours.

Mariam's thin brow furrowed as she clenched her hand around the letter, scrunching it into a ball. Her dancing girls continued to prance about, oblivious to the dark, uncertain thoughts in her head.

Could she trust the Queen of Arendelle? Did she dare believe this letter?

"Prepare my ship. I'm sailing to the north," she called out to one of her viziers.

Next chapter: An alliance fit for queens! Queen Elsa meets Sultanah Mariam, sparks fly!

And the Company invades Weselton with its Presidency Armies to kill Hans, once and for all!