CHAPTER FOUR
The Western Pass
On the dawn of the second week of her reign, the party escorting Queen Elsa of Arendelle on her diplomatic mission departed through the castle gates. A dozen mounted guards in green uniforms and tall hats bearing the royal crest rode in two columns, flanking a modest carriage teamed by four sturdy draft horses. Behind that was a sled pulled by a lone reindeer who looked far more pleased with himself than any animal had right to be. Citizens lined the streets to wish their queen a safe journey, cheering and waving to the carriage as it passed.
The mood inside the coach was somewhat less jubilant. Nearly a week of off-and-on protesting, arguing, cajoling, and pleading had not convinced Anna to remain behind, and Elsa had become convinced that, queen or no, there was at least one person in the kingdom she could trust to never do as she asked.
She wondered why that thought made her so happy.
"So," Anna said, once they had rolled beyond the city limits and she no longer had anyone to lean out the window and wave to, "Kristensand. Nice place?"
"So I'm told. It has a nickname you'd like: because it's on the west coast, they sometimes call it the Sunset City." Elsa wore a dress of silver velvet beneath a sky-blue traveling cloak with a sapphire clasp. In her lap was a small book, a brief history of Kristensand and its ruling family, lent to her by the foreign minister. He had presented it to her by way of an apology the evening before their departure. For her part, she had gifted him with a fountain pen embossed with the royal seal, and wished him luck in negotiations for Arendelle's trade agreements while she was away. She still felt guilty; not due to their argument per se, but how she had used her powers during it. Responding to disagreements that way was a path towards tyranny and ruin.
"Was Father really friends with the duke?" wondered Anna. Her dress was a dark forest green, and her russet traveling cloak was already tossed aside in an untidy heap on the bench of her side of the carriage.
"Yes. He'd tell me stories about all the trouble they got into as boys."
"Trouble?" Anna asked, eyes alight. "Like what?"
"Hunting trips through the forests, climbing mountains, exploring caves. And once…" she trailed off, momentarily lost in the memory of one tale, told in the wake of that terrible night when she'd accidentally struck Anna with her powers.
"Elsa?" Anna was looking at her, brows knit with concern.
She shook her head, giving her sister a reassuring smile. That time was done and gone; even the single blond streak that had adorned Anna's head for nearly fifteen years was faded into a thing of memory. "It was on one of his adventures with Duke Christian that Father found the trolls." She remembered that story better than most. She'd asked Father how he'd discovered the strange creatures who had known so much about her powers.
"They'd spent the day searching for gold in the streams of the eastern foothills and lost track of time. They tried to make their way home as night fell, but instead found themselves turned around in the dark forest, walking in circles. It had started to snow and they couldn't find any of the caves they were familiar with for shelter, but they wandered into a clearing filled with steam vents, which they used to stay warm. When they heard the wolves howling, they decided to build a fire in the stone circle of the clearing, one big enough to last the night. When they started rolling some stones into place to ring the fire pit, the stones started talking."
Anna laughed. "That must have been a surprise."
"It was. Father said that they were 'old enough to be startled by talking rocks, but young enough not to run away screaming.'"
"Lucky for them. And us, if you think about it."
"I suppose so. Anyway, they stayed the night with the trolls, who passed the time by telling them stories, showing off with magic, and reading their fortunes."
"And singing, no doubt."
"I wouldn't put it past them. From what Father said, the magic show was the highlight of the evening, because the stories made even less sense than the fortune telling. But he was always grateful for their help, and promised to keep their home secret and safe."
"I wonder why Duke Christian never came to visit, if he and Father were such old friends."
"I'm not sure. The foreign minister was annoyed that the duke missed my coronation, but it's not like he'd been a regular visitor."
"Maybe he and Father had a fight," Anna said. Her mouth twisted into a frown. "I hope he's not still angry. That wouldn't be good."
"I don't think that's it," Elsa said. She held up the booklet. "I glanced through the genealogy. Do you remember Aunt Helena?"
Anna's face scrunched up in concentration. "Father's sister?"
"Stepsister, actually. She was a daughter of grandfather's second wife."
"Oh, that one. I don't remember her, but I've seen her picture in the Hall of Portraits. She was pretty."
"She married the duke, but died in an accident. You were two, I had just turned five."
"You think they stopped speaking after she died?" Anna frowned. "That's not just worse, it's sad, too."
"It's not all bad," Elsa said, trying to sound cheerful. "It turns out we have three cousins."
Anna brightened immediately. "Really?"
"Really. Two boys, Uriel and Gabriel, and a girl, Seraphim. I'm sure they'll introduce us when we arrive."
"Wait," Anna said, her face scrunching in concentration. "If Aunt Helena was actually Father's stepsister, doesn't that make her our step-aunt? And if she's our step-aunt, wouldn't that make them step-cousins?"
Elsa laughed, smiling fondly at her sister's consternation. "It doesn't quite work that way."
"I'll take your word for it. You always were better at this stuff."
That was all too true. Whenever her room had become too claustrophobic to tolerate any longer, Elsa had sought refuge in the tall, quiet shelves of the castle library. Adventure, romance, and history had given wonder to a life that would have been suffocated without them. Geography and biology let her explore the world without ever having to leave the safety of the castle.
Mathematics and geometry had held a special charm to her, though, above and beyond the rest. Systems and equations of an inviolable certainty held great appeal to one cursed with an inexplicable, uncontrollable power. The concept of symmetry had fascinated her most of all, for just like the snowflakes borne of a winter storm, her powers too had been bound into those infinite permutations of mirror perfection. The occasional beauty of her curse had given her some small solace.
The sisters lapsed into a comfortable silence, livened by the creaking of the carriage wheels and the rhythmic chorus of hoofbeats from their escort. They made good time for most of the first day, as the coast road climbed steadily into the mountains west of Arendelle. The view outside the windows of the coach transitioned from bare headland to tended timber woods of oak and maple, and finally into thick forest of pine and fir. Their progress slowed as the road grew steadily rougher with disuse, until finally Captain Mathias called a halt just before sundown.
"We're not far from the pass," Kristoff informed them as they made camp in a small clearing beside the road. "It gets pretty rough from here, though."
"Will we have any trouble with the carriage?" the captain wondered.
"I don't think so," the ice harvester replied, as he tied Sven's reins to a tree near the lines that hobbled the carriage team and the guards' mounts. "It's clear, just steep near the pass. If the weather holds, it shouldn't be a problem for these guys," he concluded, nodding at the draft horses, which were munching contentedly on their feed.
The captain seemed satisfied by that, and marched off to check on camp preparations and set the watches. While Anna wandered away down the line of horses, scratching at noses and making up progressively more ostentatious nicknames for each animal in turn, Elsa posed a question of her own to Kristoff. "So. You and Anna?"
The poor boy tensed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was standing. "Uh…"
Elsa smirked, folding her arms and leaning against the low branch Sven was currently tethered to. It was hardly a regal posture, but Elsa rationalized that she was not a queen at the moment, merely a big sister. "Very eloquent. But not much of an answer."
Kristoff sighed heavily, hanging his head. The reindeer repaid that defeatist gesture with a generous lick to the face, which set Kristoff sputtering and Elsa giggling. The young man gave his oldest friend a murderous glare, but the whole thing did serve to break the tension. "I like her. Quite a bit, really. Assuming that's what you meant by your question."
"Partly. You have my personal gratitude for what happened during… well, I'll call it my winter, because that's what it was. Anna hasn't told me the whole story yet, but I have gathered that you were a help to her when she asked, and loyal when she needed it most. Words – or a sled, for that matter – won't express how thankful I am for that."
"I was in the right place at the right time. You probably know that Anna can be… insistent when she wants something."
"Yes. And not always to her benefit," Elsa said, a little sadly.
"She deserved better than that," Kristoff growled. But as quickly as it appeared, his anger turned to guilt. "She deserves better than me, too, really."
"I don't know. I can think of far worse things to be than an honest man, and more than one example of nobility behaving with anything but."
"Look… Your Majesty…" Kristoff said, abruptly remembering he was addressing the queen, "I can't promise you anything. I'm still getting used to things like talking… to people. And queens. But I can tell you that I will never hurt her. Or let anyone else hurt her, either."
"Then we have something in common. And an understanding, I think," Elsa said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just remember who her big sister is, and you'll be fine." With one last touch against his arm, she walked away. The yelp was clearly audible when Kristoff noticed the frozen palm print on his jacket, and Elsa couldn't hide her grin as she walked towards the fire at the center of camp, and the smell of dinner being served.
...
The second day of their journey dawned clear and bright, with a chill on the air that had most of the party shivering as they went about the business of breaking camp. Even in midsummer, the wind this high in the mountains was brisk on the best of days.
Elsa was helping the grooms reload the carriage, passing up bedrolls and tent poles bundled in canvas to be tied down on the coach's roof. Anna shuffled up to her with stiff little strides, wrapped tightly in her cloak but shivering even so. "How c-can you s-stand this c-cold?" she wondered, teeth chattering.
Elsa smiled, reaching out to rub her bare hands briskly up and down her sister's arms. "Oh, I don't know. Just lucky, I guess." Anna's reply to that was a scowl so fierce that Elsa couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, it will be better once the sun's been up for a bit."
The crunch of steps across the brittle underbrush drew their attention. One of the guards approached, bearing a pitcher in one hand and several pewter mugs in the other. Whatever was in the pitcher was steaming, and the sharp scent of apples and cinnamon filled the air. "You look cold, Your Highness. I've mulled some cider, if you'd like a glass."
"Y-you're a l-lifesaver," Anna gasped, nodding eagerly and taking a deep breath of the hearty scents coming from the pitcher. The guard deftly filled a mug for her, which she cradled in both gloved hands and sipped eagerly. "It's wonderful, thank you."
The man turned to Elsa, cheeks ruddy from the chill. He was young, probably near her own age, and new to the guard, fresh-faced and eager to please. "Would you like some, Your Majesty? It will warm you for the road. N-not that you n-need it, of course," he stammered.
"I'd like that, thank you," she said. Her eyes narrowed fractionally as she searched her memory. "Liam, isn't it?"
His eyes went wide, and his cheeks got even redder, which she hadn't thought possible. With a mute nod, he handed her a mug before heading to offer some to the grooms, stumbling stiff-legged in the cold.
Elsa gasped with surprise, almost spilling some of her cider, at the solid impact of Anna bumping her hip-to-hip. She frowned at her sister, who merely repaid the look with an odd waggle of her eyebrows. "What?"
"You have an admirer."
"What are you talking about? He's probably terrified of me." Like everyone else. She tried to hide her frown by taking a sip of cider. It really was quite good.
"Nuh-uh. Didn't you see the grin on his face when you remembered his name? I'm pretty sure you made his year."
"Don't be silly."
"If you say so, Your Majesty," Anna sing-songed, strolling off towards Kristoff's sled, cold all but forgotten.
They were underway again within the hour. The press of the evergreen forest receded as they approached the western pass, giving way to bare stone with only a handful of stunted shrubs clinging stubbornly to the cracks. The coach tilted ominously as the grade grew steeper, the road aiming for a gap between two imposing peaks of bare granite. The horses whined and snorted with frustration as the footing grew precarious. They were fortunate that the sun was high in the sky, driving away the ice that might otherwise have made the bare stone treacherous.
Elsa grit her teeth, managing just the occasional glance out the windows. Heights didn't faze her, but she had never liked riding in the carriage. Across from her, Anna was fearless, all but leaning out the door to watch their progress. "This is amazing! I've never seen the air so clear." She gasped. "I can see Arendelle!"
That brought Elsa to her window, and she drew enough courage from her sister's enthusiasm to risk putting her head far enough outside the window and look back the way they had come. Just as Anna said, far in the distance, a mere speck on the horizon, was the small cliff-ringed cove that sheltered their home.
"It looks so small," Elsa breathed.
"Like a little toy within a snow globe," Anna agreed.
"One that holds everyone we know, and every place we've been. It makes you feel… small, doesn't it?"
"Maybe a little," Anna said doubtfully. "It really makes me wonder what else is out there, though."
Their view of the city abruptly vanished, along with the sunlight, behind a wall of sheer rock. Cold and grey in the gloom, it rose up and up and up some more, as though it strained to pierce the sky itself. Just as quickly as it had vanished, the sun reappeared with an intensity that made Elsa flinch as her eyes readjusted. She turned to look ahead, and felt her eyes go wide as her breath was stolen away.
The road vanished ahead of them into a distant mass of trees, but from her vantage Elsa could see above the forest and into the lands beyond. A vast plain stretched out before them, gold and green and brown and more open than anything than she'd seen save the ocean itself. Rolling hills rose around the glittering tracks of streams and rivers. The pale brown veins of roads and paths connected the telltale rows of fields that covered the countryside like the patterned squares of a quilt. The shadows from the wispy clouds above them tracked lazily across the valley.
"Wow," said Anna.
"Yeah," Elsa agreed.
Further in the distance along the coast, she could just barely make out the cluster of black-tiled roofs that marked the city of Kristensand. She could only make out a few individual buildings, like the spire of the church and the rays of the docks that reached out like fingers into the ocean. The white sails of ships both coming and going stood out like snowflakes against the pure blue of the water. Beyond the city, on a bluff overlooking the docks, she could see the castle that stood sentinel over the city.
Captain Mathias brought his horse alongside them, expertly holding station with the coach's uneven pace. "We should reach the city in a few hours, Your Majesty."
"Thank you, Captain," Elsa said, ducking back inside the carriage. She caught her breath, closing her eyes to process and absorb the idyllic sights. She had never really considered the variety that the world had to offer, as some part of her had never believed she'd leave Arendelle. The pictures and paintings she knew of distant lands had not quite prepared her for reality of seeing a place other than her home with her own two eyes.
The road descended from the western pass, and the sun vanished once more behind a canopy of leaves as they followed the coast road through the forest that marked the duchy's borders. The carriage rattled on for nearly an hour, and somewhere along the way Elsa nodded off, lulled by the rhythm of the movement and steady clip-clop of hooves on the gravel of the road.
She was awakened by the glare of the midday sun as they emerged from the woodland. She blinked away the cobwebs and glanced out the window to check their progress. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she wondered if she was dreaming.
Distance had muddled her earlier vantage, and a closer look at the hills and plains inspired more worry than wonder. The rolling grasslands that had seemed a vibrant mix of green and gold from afar were a troubling shade of golden brown up close. The only green to be found was fitfully holding out near the roots. The shrubs and hedges spied from afar proved thin and wilting, their leaves drooping as though the sunlight itself was a weight upon them. Creeks and rivers were edged by cracked mud, and in some places nearly dry. The neat rows of crops were stunted and overgrown, weeds in places topping even the stalks of corn.
"Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?" Anna asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
"I don't think so," Elsa replied, unable to mask her concern.
"This is kinda creepy. I'm no expert, but farms aren't supposed to look like that, are they?"
"No," Elsa breathed, her worry turning to despair. She was coming here to ask these people to help Arendelle, but suddenly she wondered if the duchy was even capable of feeding itself in these conditions. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Elsa wondered if they hadn't just stumbled upon the reason for the duke's absence from her coronation.
Anna had leaned out of the carriage again for a better look around, but she ducked back inside after just a few seconds. She was blinking furiously, coughing and swatting at her face and arms, sending out puffs of brown dust. Outside the shade of the trees, the sun beat down on the carriage with savagery. The air inside was fast becoming uncomfortably hot. Anna had already discarded her cloak, and was trying to fan herself with a hand. "Ugh. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think we might have just found someplace that could use a little snow in summer."
Elsa glanced doubtfully at her hands, fingers slowly flexing open and closed. "I'm not sure if that would work," she said, thinking of how her conjured ice and snow had vanished when she dispelled the white blanket that had covered Arendelle in her winter. Her ice could melt: Olaf was still around thanks to constant replenishment from his flurry, and she'd had to call forth a steady snow to keep up the skating rink she'd made in the celebration of summer's return. That was one thing. Trying to water crops and restore rivers? That was another.
Despite the new measure of control Elsa was slowly teasing out, there was too much uncertainty in her heart over how her powers worked. And that was before considering if she was even capable of summoning another winter. She hadn't actually meant to bring on the first one, after all.
Outside the carriage, she heard the captain call a halt. The carriage rolled to a stop, and without waiting for a word otherwise, Elsa threw open the door and climbed out. "What is it, Captain?"
Mathias wheeled his horse in place beside her, standing in his stirrups and holding up one hand to shield his eyes from the raging sun. Elsa followed his gaze, and saw the plume of dust shrouding the road before them. It was close, and getting closer, billowing out to shroud their view of the city, less than a mile distant.
"Riders, Your Majesty. At least twenty," he said, growling out the number. "You may want to return to the carriage."
His worry was infectious, but Elsa reminded herself that they were in the lands of a man she hoped was a friend. She would not color the first impressions of either side with mistrust. "No, Captain. Remain calm. Perhaps they're just coming to welcome us." The captain gave her a look that spoke volumes of just how likely he thought that to be, but said nothing and lowered himself back into the saddle.
The approaching party began to take shape amidst the dust. Elsa couldn't make out a firm number, but the captain's estimate looked more likely to be proved low than the other way around. Anna disembarked from the carriage and stood beside her, taking hold of one of Elsa's arms. She tried to give her little sister a reassuring smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt.
The faint, arid breeze carried the indistinct bark of an order to their ears, and the riders slowed to a stop. Three of them broke off from the group to continue their approach, stopping a stone's throw from the lead rider of the Arendelle column, their horses panting furiously in the heat. "Who goes there?" one of the riders shouted. It was hardly a happy welcome, but it wasn't a threat, either. That was something.
Captain Mathias sidled his horse onto the berm of the road, holding his right hand up, palm open, his left still gripping the reins. The three Kristensand riders shared a glance and approached at a trot, stopping within a more conversational distance, and the captain slowly lowered his hand. "We are the escort for Queen Elsa of Arendelle and her sister Princess Anna, come in peace to call upon Kristensand and Duke Christian as his friends and neighbors."
The three riders shared another look. "We welcome the royal family of Arendelle to our borders," one of the riders said, removing his cap and bringing his horse forward a few more paces. His gaze swept across them, finding and fixing upon Elsa. "We will escort you to the city, where an audience may be arranged."
The captain's eyes narrowed. With a faint twitch of his legs, his mount took one step and then another, placing him between Elsa and the rider. "And if we decline?"
"Then you will know the fortune that falls upon trespassers to sovereign soil of the Kingdom of Kristensand, and learn the fate of those who oppose Catalina, Queen Regent of the Sunset City."
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*A/N* - It was mentioned in a couple reviews, so I'll say it: no, they did not leave Olaf in charge back in Arendelle. The queen's council will keep an eye on things, just as they did during Elsa's minority. Olaf's a fun character, and his existence gives me some wonderful ideas about Elsa's powers and how they work, but I haven't found a place for him yet.
