Chapter 4: A Past That Haunts
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"A man's past can be deadlier than the sharpest of swords. Pull the right strings, and he may join you in the end."
- Mafiq the Knife Juggler
Valhalla - The Sky Pits - 16 Years Prior
"Class is over, Arthur."
Imperius towered over him, his eyes gleaming with scorn. Around him whirled a furor of air that condensed so much it became visible. The ring of wind moved forward threateningly.
Arthur remembered what his father had told him the night before. If you show Imperius your fear, you will only embolden him.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said, trying to sound confident. But his quavering voice betrayed him.
The older boy lunged forward and swept Arthur off his feet with a gust of air. "You're a coward, Artie. That's all you ever were. Just like your mother."
"My mother wasn't a coward."
Imperius barked with laughter, allowing the tempest around him to subside. "Oh yes, she was. She ran when the Inquisition's armies invaded, I saw her do it. And when she left the people to die, she paid the price for it."
Arthur knew there was no truth in the older boy's claims, but the words stung. "You're lying," he said angrily, trying to stop the tears welling up in his eyes.
With a mocking smile on his face, Imperius leaned in close to Arthur. "Aw shucks, Arthur, are you crying? Don't let big daddy Gareth see you like that," he japed.
Arthur clenched his jaws. With furious eyes, he raised his arm, ready to send out a bolt of fire. But it was knocked aside by a flick of Imperius's hand.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Imperius sneered. "You haven't even mastered your Third Tome."
"Better than you when you were eight," Arthur retorted.
Imperius pounced upon Arthur and grabbed him by his shirt. He lifted a finger to the younger lad's cheek, conjuring a sliver of air as sharp as a sword.
"Say that again." Imperius said between gritted teeth, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper.
Arthur tried to flinch away, but Imperius's grip held him fast.
"SAY IT!" Imperius yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth, only a pathetic croak. He shut his eyes and shook his head, trembling with fright. With a grin, Imperius stood up and threw the boy aside. "Just like I thought. You're a coward, Artie."
Imperius strode away, his gray hair fluttering in the wind of the Sky Pits, purple cape flowing grandly. Once he left, Arthur rose and wiped the dust off of his clothes. What would father say?
Every dawn since Arthur had been six, he was expected to arrive at the Sky Pits to be instructed on his powers. When he had first started his training, Imperius was already a strapping lad of ten years. I am the chosen of Valhalla, Imperius had told Arthur on his first day, you will listen to and obey whatever I say.
It had seemed so, for Imperius was the son of one of the five Councilors who ruled the city. Arthur's father had disliked the situation from the start. No good can come from it, he said often, no family should wield the power of both the elements and the Council. But the Council had ruled that Imperius's father would keep his seat, and Imperius was allowed to train as the Sentinel of Air.
The fact that his father was a great politician took great effect upon Imperius, who imposed himself as much as he could upon the younger Arthur. Hardly a day passed when Arthur did not receive some unkind word or stinging blow from his peer. And as time passed, Imperius became bolder, tormenting Arthur even in front of their teachers, who were hesitant to discipline a Councilor's child. Arthur had appealed to his father for help, but it did nothing. A Sentinel must learn to stand up for himself, Gareth had said whenever Arthur spoke to him of Imperius's actions, or he will never be able to stand for others. But how could he stand up against someone who was bigger, stronger, and faster than him?
Arthur had asked himself that question every morning when he woke up, and every evening before he slept. It's no use, Arthur thought now, every day will just be the same. He hung his head dejectedly and began the journey home.
Castle Arendelle - Present Day
Arthur woke late into the morning. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced out of his window. The early sun cast its brilliant light over the Bay of Arendelle, painting the sky amber and gold. Birds flitted about, singing in high voices. Outside, the people of Arendelle had started their business - bartering for goods, hammering away at their anvils, sweeping the streets.
How long have I slept? Arthur scrambled out of his bed and stumbled into the bathroom, where there were polished marble tiles, a set of warm candles, an ornamented washbin, and a steel bathtub. He filled the washbin with cold water and splashed some on his face, allowing the freezing sensation to awaken him.
After he washed up, he donned a red linen shirt and a black leather vest. Refreshed and changed, Arthur pocketed his ruby dragon and placed the chain with his mother's ring around his neck. He strode to the bedroom door and opened it. A servant was standing outside. The man bowed politely and placed his hands behind his back.
"Good morning, Sir Arthur," he said.
"Just Arthur," replied Arthur.
"The Queen wishes to know if you will have breakfast with her and Princess Anna."
"Are they still eating?" Arthur asked, taken aback.
The servant smiled graciously. "The Queen and Princess are still asleep."
"Did anything happen last night?"
"Oh no, sir. The Queen and Princess often rest until this time."
In Valhalla, Arthur would have been disciplined harshly by his instructors for sleeping past dawn. I suppose being royalty has its benefits, he thought. "I will accept Queen Elsa's offer, but don't bother waking them at my expense. Now, which way to the food?"
"The Dining Hall is right this way, sir."
Castle Arendelle - The Royal Bedchambers - Present Day
Elsa finished her morning bath and changed into a set of fresh clothes. She spread her arms, and a burst of ice transformed her clothing into a lavender gown. It was a daily affair that she had taken up after the unfreezing of Arendelle.
Every morning she would take an outfit of hers and transmute it into something she preferred. Of course, there were certain dresses and garments that she held dear and never dreamed of changing, but Elsa had so far run through more than half of her wardrobe. She tossed her hair backwards and gazed into her mirror, checking that she was presentable.
Her sister burst into her room, clothes crumpled and hair frazzled.
"Hello-oo!" Anna sang as she waltzed inside.
"Anna," Elsa smiled, "get dressed, we have a visitor here today."
"That's what I heard," Anna collapsed onto Elsa's unmade bed.
"Then get changed," Elsa poked her sister on the side.
"Why wasn't he at dinner yesterday?"
"I don't know, he said he had something he needed to do."
"Like what?"
Elsa shrugged. "I don't know," she repeated. She stared into her window thoughtfully. Arthur's visit had been rather strange. No one had ever come to Arendelle asking to meet Pabbie. Usually all the men were foreign dignitaries seeking an alliance, or suitors hoping to marry the Snow Queen.
"Was he dreamy?" Anna grinned.
"What?"
"You have that look on your face," Anna said enthusiastically, "like you're thinking about something."
"He was... different," Elsa said cautiously.
"Like... you like him different?"
"What?" Elsa asked incredulously. "No, just..."
"Dreamy."
"Anna, go get changed."
"Come on," Anna stretched out on the bed, "tell me."
With a sigh, Elsa consented. "When he came to the throne room, he seemed like he knew something. And he wasn't telling me what it was."
"Maybe he knows you can make snow?"
"Everyone knows that, Anna," Elsa laughed.
"Anything else, then? Did he want to marry you? Like that Spanish guy? What was his name? Eduardo the Thirty-Eighth?"
Elsa shook her head, grinning. "No, not like him. This one asked to see Pabbie."
Anna sat up. "Like, Pabbie Pabbie? Kristoff's Pabbie? Our Pabbie?"
"Yes, our Pabbie."
The subject seemed to interest Anna. "What for?"
"He didn't say."
"Ooh. Mysterious," Anna teased.
"All right Anna," Elsa grabbed her sister and hauled her up. She pushed her gently towards the door. "Go get changed. He's probably downstairs eating breakfast already."
"Oh! What do we have?"
"I think they said they were making lemon pancakes."
"Yeuch," Anna shivered. "Who eats those anyway?"
Elsa pointed to Anna's room, which was adjacent to hers. Her sister held her hands up in surrender.
"All right, I'm going, I'm going."
After ensuring that her sister stopped dallying, Elsa made her way down to the dining hall. It was often reserved for the royal siblings and their guests, if they were hosting any. But on normal days, the castle staff were free to eat there during mealtimes. Arthur was already seated on a bench, wolfing down pancakes and speaking to a guardsman.
"So," Arthur told the guard, "if you keep your sword high, you'll have more options when attacking or parrying. Granted, you can't really lunge, but it'll save your skin more often than not."
The guard, a man by the name of Flydd, was also biting into a lemon pancake, but with less enthusiasm than Arthur. He nodded in agreement as Arthur spoke.
Gerda approached Elsa and curtsied. "Good morning, Your Majesty. Would you care for some breakfast?"
"I think I'll just have some bread and butter today," Elsa answered, giving Gerda a knowing wink. Lemon pancakes were an experimental effort of Kai's. So far, both the royal family and the kitchen staff had found little liking for them. The steward smiled and and went off to the kitchens.
Elsa moved toward the two men in conversation. Flydd noticed her and stood from the table. "The Queen is here to speak to you," he told Arthur. "Perhaps we may discuss this further sometime else." He bowed to Elsa and left.
Arthur wiped his mouth and rose as well. "Your Majesty, the food is delicious."
His statement seemed genuine enough. Looks like Kai has found his first supporter, Elsa thought, amused. She smiled graciously. "My apologies for being late. I hadn't realized it was so late. Will you still be eating with us?"
"I've still got some room," Arthur patted his stomach. "If I may-"
He was interrupted by Anna, who entered wearing a black skirt, yellow bodice, and an olive blouse. "Hi, I'm here," she announced. Elsa extended her arm towards her sister, who took it happily.
"Anna, this is Arthur the Second, from Valhalla," she said.
Arthur bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," he said cordially. "I take it you are friends with Kristoff the Ice Master?"
"Yes, he's... very close to me," Anna replied sheepishly.
Arthur laughed. "I see. And does he often travel to the Valley of the Living Rock?"
"If you mean to see his family, then yes," Anna answered. "He goes once in a while."
"When we say family, we mean the Northern Trolls. Kristoff was raised by Pabbie and his tribe," explained Elsa. "He was just a boy when his parents disappeared."
Arthur's face fell. "I understand," he said softly.
Afraid she had offended him, Elsa spoke again. "Is something wrong?"
The red-haired foreigner shook his head. "It's... It's nothing."
The trio were silent for an few awkward heartbeat. In the end, it was Anna who saved them. "So," she said radiantly, "why weren't you at dinner last night?"
But Arthur withdrew even more. "I had... things to do. Forgive me if I say you wouldn't understand."
"Leave him alone, Anna," Elsa interceded gently. She exchanged a look with her sister. He's different all right, Anna's face seemed to say. Gerda reappeared from the kitchens, carrying Elsa's breakfast.
"Princess Anna," she greeted, "would you like anything to eat?"
"Anything but lemon pancakes," Anna whispered, looking to make sure Kai was not around. Gerda placed Elsa's food on a table and left again to order Anna's meal.
"Shall we eat over at the high table?" Elsa suggested lightly. "The seats are very comfortable."
"Of course,"Arthur said, putting on another smile. But Elsa could see that his mind was elsewhere. He has a past, whatever it is, she thought as they moved toward the elevated dais. A past that haunts him.