Chapter 7: Treason and Treachery

Author's Note: I broke the trend of having three sections per chapter in this one, because I felt that the following four sections worked better together instead. I don't particularly enjoy this mode of publishing, but the content in this chapter just felt more cohesive if I did it this way. I plan to revert back to my original style in the next chapter. Please Review You have my thanks if you already have taken the time to write a comment.

"There are those around us who do not think before they act. I pray I am not one of these."
- First Sage Magyr

Castle Arendelle - The Library - Present Day

Queen Elsa sat in the Royal Library, snuggled up to a cushion with a book in her hands. The room was one of the smallest in the palace, excluding the bathrooms and closets. But there was a charm to it that Elsa enjoyed. Her mother had been an avid reader and book collector, and so the shelves were filled with novellas and poems and epics. The notion of a chandelier would have been laughable for such a small anteroom, and since it was windowless, all light came from a few candle-lit lamps, which were held up at head-level by thin iron stands.

The floor was not carpeted, like most of the rest of the palace. There was one chair, a delicate thing with red plush, and armrests that ended in the carvings of lion's heads, and it sported the crest of Arendelle on its back. It was accompanied by a sizable chestnut desk made of rare elm, imported from a far away land. A lantern, with the intricate design of metal spires coiling around the glass cage, had been installed on top of this table. This was the workplace of her father, should he have needed to study a book or sign a treatise.

It had only been three and a half years since her parents had passed. The news of their deaths had crushed Elsa, she suspected even more so than it had affected her sister. The days between then and her coronation were the loneliest in her life. There had been few tears. Just pain. And a feeling of emptiness. She thought that things would have changed for the better after she was free to be with Anna and her people, but now she cried herself to sleep more often than before. There were nightmares of her 'bad days', the times she had hurt Anna, or her father and mother. She would wake up trembling, finding that her room had frosted over, with crystal spikes of ice protruding from the walls.

In the morning, though, her spirits would lift, and life in Arendelle became delightful. Today, there was little to do. Now that her guest had departed with Anna and Kristoff, the palace saw little activity.

And so Elsa sat, enraptured by the literature in her hands. It was an adaptation from Frankland, about a young woman who falls in love with a man who had been turned into a monstrous beast. That was true love to Elsa. She was glad that Anna had learnt her lesson about Hans, though she wished it had happened another way. Love must be built, not found and squeezed dry by desire, she thought as she leafed through the pages. It had been something she read in a wise-man's book when she was younger. She drifted through the novel happily, until a shadow appeared on the smooth wooden floor in front of her.

Elsa looked up to see Kai standing in the doorway. He bowed apologetically. "If you will excuse me, Your Majesty. A letter has just arrived."

She got to her feet. "From who?"

The steward shrugged lightly. "It arrived by carrier pigeon."

"Carrier pigeon?" Elsa said in surprise. This sort of method was a first for her. She had heard of it before, but as far as she knew Arendelle had never received letters this way. She placed her book on the ground. It would have to wait.

Kai said nothing, but merely produced the letter from behind his back. Gingerly, Elsa took it from him and read the outside.

To Arthur Halcyon the Second, it said, in meticulous cursive. Elsa inspected the paper. It was unsealed, simply obscuring its contents by being folded neatly and wrapped with light string. Elsa removed its binding carefully and opened it.

"Your Majesty?" said Kai, slightly uncomfortable.

"It's fine, Kai," Elsa reassured him. "I just need to find out more about our visitor." She smoothed the letter and read.

Dear Arthur,

Things have not been going according to plan at Baron's Watch. We arrived safely yesterday, and I parted ways with Captain Bors. I have been scouring the port for a ship that will bring me South, but none of the captains are willing to risk such a long journey, for fear of the autumn storms. It seems that we have mistimed our approach.

Of course, you know that I will be visiting my mother first, as we agreed, and then move on to the task ahead.

I will have to stay at Baron's Watch for the next few weeks, and as you can probably surmise that the recruitment will have to wait until I can depart. Do not be distressed, I have sent word to Louis and Count Gaston in Frankland, and our friends in Endwall. They have agreed to discuss matters with me once I can meet with them. I estimate that we will be able to raise a force of fifty thousand, if not more.

The attack will have to be swift. For reasons that I am sure you know, I cannot specify the location of assault. But do not forget that they have magic on their side. We will need to isolate that fight from the rest of the troops.

I leave you with a warning. I trust you are making progress with the Queen. Be careful, if we are to unseat this power we must be cautious every step of the way. They have friends in Frankland, Endwall, Corona, Etalia, and others as well. There are few people that I can trust at Baron's Watch, so I had to resort to carrier pigeon. The bird will know its way back. Send your reply with it.

Your faithful friend and servant,
Percival Marks of Highfell

Elsa breathed a sigh of distress and rubbed her forehead with a frown.

"Your Grace, is everything alright?" Kai asked with concern.

She handed the letter to him. He received it and read with inquisitive eyes, and when he was done he folded the parchment slowly. "Do you think...?"

"What should I do, Kai?" asked Elsa.

He placed his hands behind his back in contemplation. "If this is what we suspect it is, we will have to take action. The consequences if we do not would be dire. We must ensure that this Arthur is detained and kept under guard."

The Queen closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking carefully. This was something she was still unused to - protecting her kingdom "We'll wait for them to return from the Valley," she ordered. "Put all the guards on alert."

Kai bowed. "I'll do it personally." He turned to go.

"Wait," Elsa said, stopping him. "If we do arrest him... what if they really attack us?"

The steward stood tall and cocked his head slightly backwards in a proud fashion. "Then we will show them that Arendelle won't be taken over without a fight." He bowed once more and was about to leave when he halted himself once again. "And, if I may say so, if anything were to go wrong... we do have you," he added. With a final bow, he left the library, leaving Elsa alone in the room.

Let's hope it never comes to that, she thought.

Arendelle - The Valley of the Living Rock - Present Day

The sun kissed the earth and sank into the horizon - a long, intimate embrace. From the center of the Valley, Bulda could see its orange light dissolving lazily. Dinnertime had been over for almost an hour. It was time for the Gathering. She picked up a hollow, carved stick and rapped it on a large boulder with special markings on it. Ratat-tat-tat. The pattern rumbled through the rock and resonated into the ground. A few trolls appeared from various directions, rolling quickly and assembling near the boulder she was standing next to. Bulda continued to drum out the sequence as more members of her tribe, young and old, wheeled in and popped up around her.

Kristoff and Anna materialized as well, with Olaf and Sven in tow. Bulda smiled and sighed in contentment as she saw her adopted ward with the Princess. She liked to think that their relationship was of her doing. But her smile vanished as her father rolled into sight. The mass of tribe members had divided so that he could approach the boulder, as was their custom. The new visitor, Arthur, was not with him.

The strange foreigner was standing at the back of the congregation of trolls, next to his horse. His left arm rested on her neatly cut mane, which he stroked absentmindedly. Pabbie unfurled himself and gestured to Bulda. She knocked out one last rhythm on the boulder, then placed the stick on the ground. With grandeur, Pabbie raised his hands and spoke to the listening tribe. The Gathering had begun.

"My fellow tribespeople," he called out. "Some of you may remember me as your leader for the past twenty years. Some of you may remember my father, Kaggar Greenstripe, who served as your leader before I did. And still some will remember his father, who served us more than sixty years ago."

A few of the more ancient trolls raised their hands in acknowledgement of Pabbie's last statement, grinning from ear to ear. A number of them were older than Pabbie himself. He bowed and continued on. "It appears now that I must leave you. There are pressing matters in the Kingdom of Arendelle that I am required to attend. So I will be leaving Bulda, my daughter, in charge of the tribe when I am gone." He glanced at Bulda. "I have complete faith in her, and you must listen to her as you have listened to me."

The surrounding trolls murmured excitedly. A few of them gave Bulda a thumbs-up. As the chief's only child, she had always been expected to fill her father's position. But Bulda had never thought she would be doing it so soon. New chiefs were usually appointed because the previous ones had either passed away or were unable to serve any longer.

"It's just temporary, though," she assured the tribe. She turned to Pabbie. "Right?"

Her father opened and closed his fists slowly, something he did when he was nervous. "Maybe, maybe not."

His statement rankled the tribe members, and the chattering intensified. A male troll near the back voiced their concern. "What does that mean?" He asked loudly.

"It means that these are dark times," Pabbie said resignedly, "and unless I act now, we could all be in great danger."

The Gathering was silent. The words were still sinking in. Some of the children shuffled about in a restless manner. Then a loud shout dashed the stillness. "Three Cheers for Grand Pabbie!" It was one of the youngsters. The rest of the trolls broke from their spell, jumping around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hip-hip-" A troll called.

"HURRAY!" The rest yelled with gusto, pumping their fists in the air.

"Hip-hip... HURRAY!"

Bulda joined in as well. It was a good distraction from the troubling announcement. When they had finished their impromptu salute, a hearty roar rose into the skies, and the trolls began to clap fervently for their leader.

To the side, Arthur shook his head with a smile and clapped too. Pabbie bowed his head, accepting their support, and picked up the stick from the ground. He knocked a distinct beat on the central boulder, signifying that the Gathering was over.

Whooping with joy at their release, most of the troll-children scurried away to jam in an hour of play before their bedtime. The rest joined the adults as they moved forward to say farewell to their leader.

Pabbie received each one openly, some with a pat on the back, or a gentle hug, or a simple word.

"Good-bye, Grand Pabbie," the younger ones said, though some because they felt obligated to.

"Good-bye, Chief," the older trolls said with heartfelt sadness.

Bulda could see that her father was close to tears. She stood by him and placed a hand on his shoulder, greeting each approaching troll with a smile. When they were finished, the tribe dispersed, to do their evening chores or to prepare for the night, leaving Arthur, Pabbie, Bulda, Kristoff, Olaf, Sven, and Mara standing near the boulder.

As the trolls departed, Arthur moved toward Pabbie and spoke in a hushed whisper. "Why did you tell them that?"

His voice was soft, but Bulda could still hear his words if she listened carefully

Her father looked up at the new visitor. "Better for them to know now, than when the armies of Valhalla come marching through."

"You say that as though we'll fail."

"Will we?" Pabbie gazed intently into the foreigner's eyes.

Arthur grew quiet.

"I'm not sure," Bulda heard him say.

Valhalla - The Inner Sanctum - 30 Years Prior

The Inner Sanctum. Polished white marble floors and golden statues and iron doors. Home to the privileged, refuge to all. Or at least that was what it should be. Now, as he walked through the City Square, he could see only the rich and powerful strolling around. He watched them intently as they whispered gossip or went about their business. They flaunted their jewels, their fancy clothes, their bizarre hairstyles. It made him sick.

Some of them stared at him, but there was not even a single flicker of recognition in their eyes. He continued walking, shrouded in his hooded cloak, the bottom half of his face obscured by a black mask. His black leather boots, worn from years of travel and hard terrain, groaned in protest as he crossed the plaza.

The city's center was huge - it took him a good fifteen minutes to make his way through, even with his rapid stride. But finally his destination came into sight. It was an ivory limestone structure, modest and small compared to the surrounding buildings, but still splendid and clean. The entrance was accompanied by pairs of alabaster pillars, stretching high into the ceiling and firmly onto the ground.

A set of pearly-white stone stairs led up to the door. He climbed these and placed his hand on the door, giving it a solid push. Its hinges were well oiled, and it swung open smoothly. Before him lay a hall of rooms, furnished with lacquered brown tables and gilded chairs against its walls. The hallways were the same color as the building's exterior, a pure and blank white, save for the gray and black tiles that formed mosaics on the floor.

He entered, walking quietly, glancing into each room that he passed, but saw no one. He did not stop, instead resuming his path down the hall, until he began to hear a smattering of voices. Following them, he neared the end and turned right. There was a large room with a great wooden dining table and a set of benches, on which which three figures sat - a man, a woman, and a short troll. They were laughing at something, some joke that one of them must have made.

As he stepped through the doorway, they heard him and swung their heads around, the amusement fading from their lips. He stood silently as the trio looked him over from top to bottom curiously. It was only after he removed his mask and hood that one of them spoke.

It was the man, a finely clothed youth with bright red hair and a handsome face. He stood up from his chair, and his voice held hints of disbelief. "Carthus?"

"Hello, Gareth," the cloaked man replied.

The two others got up as well and stared at him. He remembered the woman immediately.

"Mara, it's been too long," Carthus greeted her. She blinked at him at first, then gathered herself and inclined her head towards him.

"Likewise," she said politely. Like Gareth, her long, flowing hair was unnaturally colored, but silvery white instead of his crimson. She was dressed strikingly as well, in a gown of azure and lilac. Mara had been a child when he last saw her. He could see now that she had changed. Adulthood gave her an air of elegance and beauty.

Next, Carthus turned his attention to the troll, and scanned the short figure with interest. They had never met before, and Carthus was inexperienced with such a race. The grayish-blue skin, their minuscule height, and beastlike hair were foreign to him. "And this is the newfound Sentinel of Earth?" He indicated the troll with an extended hand.

But Gareth ignored his question. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

"Wherever I needed to go," shrugged Carthus. "Mostly to the North, if you must know."

"You were gone for seven years."

"Time that I needed to take," he reasoned.

"I think it is perhaps not a matter of where you went, or how long you took," said Mara. "What we are concerned about is why you left."

Gareth agreed. "The Council of Five searched everywhere for you."

Carthus waved his hand dismissively. "I would not pay them any attention if I were you. The Council is a pack of idiots."

"Idiots that we take our orders from," Mara reminded him.

A smile crept onto Carthus's face. "No longer," he said slyly. From the way they looked at him, he could tell that an explanation was needed. "You ask why I left Valhalla unannounced," he began. "Well, I shall tell you. Three centuries ago, our Chief Explorer and his men discovered a remarkable substance, one that changed magic forever, and tipped the balance of power in the Council's hands."

"The Argent Rock," said the troll. He had been so silent that Carthus had wondered if he spoke at all.

"Yes," Carthus replied. "The Argent Rock was placed in the Inner Sanctum, where the Council watches over it."

"We know our history," Gareth spoke up, "why are you telling us this?"

"Because since then, the Council has used this substance to violate the laws of Valhalla," Carthus said. "You all know this to be true."

"You speak treason," Mara breathed.

"And what if I do?" Carthus asked her, raising his head imposingly. "The Argent Knights will come and take me away? There are only four of them."

"And one of you," countered Mara. "It will only take one Argent Blade to fell a Sentinel."

"No more," Carthus repeated triumphantly. "Seven years ago, I set out to discover a way to end the tyranny of the Council."

The others in the room stepped back slightly, uncomfortable with his words. But Carthus ignored their unease and continued on. "And after my travels, I have found it. A substance just like the Argent Rock, only with the power to do the opposite."

Gareth was surprised. "You found something that would undo the Argent Rock's strength?"

Carthus grinned, "The Council cannot cower behind it any longer."

"I'll hear no more." Mara crossed her arms and turned away.

The troll withdrew as well. "I think it would be best if I did not discuss this any further," he dipped his head, but his voice held no warmth in it.

Carthus studied Gareth carefully. The Sentinel of Fire was hesitating, but in the end, he took a deep breath and shook his head.

"You as well?" Carthus said, slightly disappointed. Before he left Valhalla, he knew that Gareth had been resistant to the Council's ways. But the red-headed Sentinel seemed to have mellowed over the years.

"I have changed." The younger man would not meet his gaze. "To preserve the order in Valhalla, we must obey the Council."

"I see you have let them whittle you down until you are nothing but a blithering child," Carthus mocked. "You are a Sentinel, not the slave of the Council."

"Don't listen to him, Gareth," warned Mara.

But Carthus knew he was unable to convince him. The youth instead pressed his argument further. "We serve the The Council because it serves Valhalla. That is how the law is."

"And do you see that with each growing day?" Carthus rebuffed him quickly, "Immediately upon my return I discover that the common folk are not even allowed into the Inner Sanctum, one of many grievances that we must answer."

"It is not our right," Gareth asserted.

"It is more than our right! It is our duty!" Carthus cried angrily. "And you lie here, like the craven slug you are, while the Council oppresses the people!"

"Please, Carthus," implored Gareth quietly, "do not do this."

Carthus took a step back and shook his head. He had expected this from them. "I suppose it does not matter," he said with dangerous eyes. "You can't stop me."

Before any of them could react, Carthus pulled back his shoulders, and with a burst of energy vaporized into a gale of wind. The three others yelled in surprise. Whipping about furiously, he shot out of the room and billowed through the hallway. He could hear the protesting shouts of Gareth chasing after him as he blasted out of the entrance and climbed higher and higher into the air.

Below him, Carthus could see the onlookers pointing up at the silver gust of wind in the sky. He hurtled toward the Council Chambers - a massive dome-shaped building. The guards posted at the gate had sighted him, though from the way they acted Carthus knew they were unsure of what to do. There were six of them, clad in steel armor and wielding sword and shield, and they watched him motionlessly as he rushed toward them.

Carthus swept down and resumed his humanly shape as he landed. Flicking both wrists, he sent twin arcs of air towards the guards in front, beheading them before they could even move. The other men tried to raise their shields, but Carthus swiped his arms forward, conjuring two shards of wind that sped towards their targets. The impact punctured their breastplates and felled them swiftly.

With blinding speed, he leapt forward and slammed into the remaining pair, crushing them and shattering the marmoreal floor. A boom echoed through the Council Chambers as he reverted back into his wind form and rocketed further into the building. More armed soldiers emerged to meet him, some wielding crossbows or long spears. Carthus kept moving, materializing only to dismember limbs with deadly precision or blow apart bodies with powerful torrents of air, sending deep thrums out as he switched between forms. He streaked past the obsidian and jade columns that supported the stone ceiling, slaying all that opposed him as he traveled further and further into the Chambers.

It was not long before bells and horns began to sound the alarm, and the guards began to rally together. As Carthus entered a deeper area of the building he transformed into a man once more, and saw that a party of soldiers stood in the middle of the great room. At their lead was a quartet of figures clad in armor gilded with gold, and grasping glowing swords. The Argent Four. One of them strode forward a few paces and raised his hand.

"Stop right there, Sentinel!" He called authoritatively. "You are trespassing the law of the Council!"

"As is my intention," Carthus replied him with contempt.

"The penalty for assault and murder in Valhalla is death," the Argent Knight warned. "If you do not cease your actions, we will arrest you and bring you under the Council's justice."

Carthus broke into a smile. "We shall see about that." He gathered himself and launched toward them, shifting into wind again. The Argent Knight in front raised his weapon to fight. The other three did not move to help him, thinking that the Sentinel would not stand a chance against the Argent Blade.

But Carthus's powers did not falter as he approached them. Much to their dismay, he hit the ground before them as a human once more, and struck the lead Knight in the chest with a strong zephyr, causing the man to fly back a hundred yards. The brunt of the force killed him as he collapsed onto the ground. Carthus disarmed the remaining three Knights with a flurry of his arms, sending bolts of air that knocked the swords from their hands. He smashed a fist with the force of a tempest into the first one, splintering his armor and obliterating his insides. The second was tossed into the tall ceiling with a quick thrust of Carthus's hands and splattered onto the floor afterward.

The last Knight watched Carthus in despair and confusion as the Sentinel advanced upon him. He struggled as Carthus grabbed his throat and lifted him into the air, armor and all. "But... but... how?" He gasped.

"Know this," Carthus hissed in his ear. "True justice cannot be stopped." He flung the man into a pillar, accelerating him with howling blasts of wind. The Knight cried out in pain as he smacked hard into the structure. Carthus raised his hands and brought them down smoothly. A gust of air from above slammed onto the man, so strong that it incapacitated him.

The rest of the guards fled once they saw that the Argent Knights had failed.

With a derisive humph, Carthus brushed the dust off of his cloak and walked down the length of the huge room. The door to the Inner Court lay before him. He opened it with a wave of his hand and strode inside. The Councilors were seated at their respective thrones. They rose in surprise as they saw him enter. Their bodyguards moved forward to stop him, but he removed them in a matter of seconds with a few blasts of air. He turned victoriously to the Council members and raised his hand. Some of them flinched. One of them, Councilor Dagon, spoke up.

"Sentinel Carthus!" He called, trying to sound relieved at seeing him. "You have returned at long last!"

Carthus ignored him. He eyed each of them angrily. "For centuries the Council has abused its power for its own benefit. The people of Valhalla suffer because of your indulgence. The children of the Outer Rings die of starvation while you feast on foreign delicacies. The laborers are not even paid enough to clothe themselves. Your taxes have crippled every merchant, every artisan, every innkeeper that does not swear allegiance to you. And the Argent Rock has protected you from the wrath of the Sentinels. But no more."

"You do not understand," another Councilor said, "we have made Valhalla wealthy throughout the years."

"You have amassed your wealth by stealing from your people!" Carthus retorted. "You have broken every law that Valhalla was built to stand for."

"Do not accuse us of your own crimes, Sentinel!" Councilor Meera reprimanded him.

"I have done nothing wrong!" Shouted Carthus. "My actions are for the people! And the people require a new Council!"

"We will never stand for this," Dagon said strongly.

"And that is why I will slay you all," Carthus flexed his hand and readied a dangerous gust of wind, "and I will present your bodies to the people."

He turned and pivoted his body, whipping his arm around and slicing open Councilor Meera's stomach with a sliver of air. The other Councilors cried in fear and scurried away, some hiding behind their chairs, others ducking under tables of pure diamond. Carthus brought his right foot down in front of him, sending a wave of wind out, crumbling the Council thrones.

"You will now pay for your transgressions!" He roared and pulled his arms up, spawning a frenzied cyclone in the room. The floor of the Inner Court trembled and began to rip apart as furniture and tiles flying about. The Councilors tumbled about haplessly, their cries muffled by the shrieking wind. Carthus advanced upon another Councilor, who had managed to hold on to a nook in a wall, and lifted his hand to strike.

Then the lightning came. A surge of energy blasted into his back, and Carthus heaved in pain as it coursed through his body, overwhelming him. A blue light had filled the room, and a crackling sound buzzed through the air. The heat made him scream in anguish, and he convulsed on the floor, writhing as it continued to electrify him.

It seemed to him as though it would never end, but it finally did, with a sizzling crack. Carthus lay smoldering on ground, his hands still twitching with lightning. His hair was singed and burning. The swirling furor around him had subsided. He turned his head slowly to see Gareth behind him.

"Gareth," he wheezed, "you stupid cur."

"I mastered my element while you were away," Gareth said. "And I see it is fortunate that I did. Had I not, you would have upset the balance of the city."

"You're a fool," spat Carthus. "Why would you save them? They have done nothing for you."

"It is the law," said Gareth firmly.

"We are meant to be above the law," Carthus said huskily, "to protect the innocent, and punish the guilty."

"Not like this," Gareth shook his head.

"Curse you, Gareth," Carthus said. He raised a hand to retaliate, but found that frost had begun to envelop his body, until he was quickly encased in a block of ice, with only his head protruding from it. Mara and the Northern Troll appeared behind Gareth.

"We warned you, Carthus," said Mara as she walked up. "You should never have done this."

Gareth grabbed his neck. "Now tell us, how did you defeat the Argent Knights?"

But Carthus drew back and lashed out with his mouth, biting Gareth furiously on the hand. The Sentinel of Fire yelled in pain and withdrew as Carthus spat out blood. "With this blood I curse you, Gareth Halcyon. I curse you and your descendants, until the end of time. You will never find my secret."

The Sentinel of Fire examined the bloodied teeth marks on his injured hand. The Councilors had roused, and they now approached the scene cautiously, the sight of Meera's murder still fully in their minds.

"Your curses mean nothing here," Councilor Dagon said, "you are a disgraced man. The Council hereby exiles you from Valhalla. You must never return again, or you will risk by your fellow Sentinels."

The Northern Troll cocked his head in confusion. "But without a Sentinel of Air-"

Dagon stopped him with a hand. "We have thrived for seven years without him. Valhalla can do without all four elements."

Mara and the Troll nodded in understanding, but Carthus stared deep into Gareth's eyes.

"Curse you," he said one last time, with hatred in his voice.

"Enough," Gareth said, and cracked his hand upon the Sentinel of Air's head, knocking him unconscious.

Castle Arendelle - Courtyard - Present Day

The palace loomed into view as the party turned a corner and arrived at the bridge. Their journey back to Arendelle had started off fine. They had cheered themselves up at first by singing a few songs, but Kristoff's arms soon grew tired from playing his mandolin while walking. Pabbie and Kristoff then tried to show Arthur what a Northern Bluebird could do when one appeared near the sled, but a huge sneeze from Olaf sent it fluttering away, and so they were deprived of even this.

The travelers talked instead - of foods and of clothes, of Anna's funny stories with Elsa, of Kristoff's ice business, of pets and of swords and of books. Not once did anyone mention of how Pabbie had described Arthur as the Sentinel of Fire. Arthur figured they felt awkward about it, or they forgot. It was not too long before they had arrived back in Arendelle, as the Valley was not that far.

They had fitted wheels on the sled now, so that it would travel better on the brick streets of the city. As usual, Anna and Olaf sat inside as Sven pulled the makeshift cart. But Kristoff had taken to walking alongside them to allow room for Pabbie to sit. Arthur felt obligated to dismount Mara and travel on foot as well. He held her loosely by the reins as they approached the palace.

"Ah," Olaf sighed contentedly, "Home sweet home!"

Kristoff agreed with him. "I can finally get some rest." He stumbled forward, having tripped on a loose stone. "Whoa." He grabbed onto the cart to stop his fall, making Sven snort in surprise.

Anna gave a look of concern. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine," dismissed Kristoff, "Just a little tired, that's all." He gave an exhausted smile and took his hands off the cart.

Arthur could not help feeling guilty for his condition. "I'm sorry I put you through this. Perhaps we should have left for the Valley a few days later."

"Oh no, that's not what I meant," Kristoff said courteously. "It's not your fault, sir, don't worry."

The Ice-Master's eyes were sincere enough to make Arthur believe him. "Just call me Arthur," he told Kristoff, "you don't have to call me sir."

Pabbie laughed from his seat in the cart. "You are your father's son."

Arthur responded only with a smile. They crossed the bridge as Anna fussed over Kristoff's state and Olaf greeted each of the lamp-posts, which he had taken the liberty to name.

"You really shouldn't be walking on foot," Anna said, "come sit on the cart. I'll get off."

"Anna, we're nearly there," Kristoff pointed at the gate, "it's fine."

"When we get inside, you're going straight to bed," she insisted.

"After a shower. Geez, what are you, my mother?"

"Fine, after a shower."

Arthur grinned as he listened to the couple. They continued down the bridge. A guard at the top of the gatehouse sighted them. The man disappeared quickly behind the parapet. At the base of the gate, Flydd was on duty again. As they approached Arthur waved to him. "Good morning, how are you today?" He called goodheartedly.

Flydd stared dead ahead, stone faced. "Good day," he replied curtly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What's with him?" He turned to Anna expectantly, but she merely shrugged. He received his answer when they entered the compound. An entire squad of guards stood waiting for them inside, with serious faces and weapons drawn. As Sven and the cart reached a halt, Queen Elsa emerged from the palace, followed by Kai and Gerda. She looked anxious. With a nod, she signaled for the guards to close the gates, and the heavy doors were slammed shut.

"What's this?" Anna asked, confused.

Elsa called out to her sister, her voice tense. "Anna, Olaf, Kristoff, come here now."

"I don't understand," began Anna.

"Just come here," Elsa said again. Anna exited the cart obediently with Olaf, and walked toward her. Kristoff unhooked Sven from the wagon and followed them. Arthur began to move forward as well, but the Queen raised a hand to stop him.

"Stay away from them," she commanded. Arthur halted and eyed her curiously.

"I'm not quite sure I understand either," he said politely. "What's the matter?"

Kai the Steward stepped up and replied him. "The Queen of Arendelle has reason to believe that you are planning treason against her," he said officiously.

Arthur was not certain if he heard the man clearly. "What?"

Pabbie rose from his seat. "And what reasons do you speak of?" He asked.

Surprise leapt onto Elsa's face. "Grand Pabbie?"

"Queen Elsa."

"I didn't know you were here," Elsa said in shock.

Pabbie patted a small layer of dust off of his habit. "There are matters of interest here in Arendelle that I must attend to. But first, why are you accusing Arthur of these crimes?"

Clearing his throat, Kai spoke up again. "The Queen received a letter addressed to him. In it were contents that aroused our suspicions."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Olaf said in panic, "Arthur's a bad guy?"

"No, he's not," answered Pabbie, "I can assure you he is innocent."

Arthur paid no attention to him. "You read my letters?" He frowned at Elsa.

Her eyes were apologizing, but she turned away from him and to the guards. "Detain his man," she ordered. The dozen armed men advanced toward the cart.

Anna was not so sure about this. She grabbed Elsa's arm.

"What?" Her sister snapped.

"Elsa, what are you doing?" Anna asked. "This isn't how we do things here."

"Not now, Anna," Elsa said urgently and shrugged off her younger sister's hand.

"I would listen to her, Elsa," Arthur put in as the guards closed in on him, "You're making a mistake."

The Queen ignored his words. The first guard strode forward and reached out to take hold of Arthur, but Mara turned around and gave him a swift kick in the stomach.

"Oof," he said as he flew backwards, his cap flopping behind him. The other guards hesitated upon seeing their comrade knocked to the ground.

"Mara," Arthur scolded. But in truth he had been prepared to defend himself as well. The mare neighed and shook her mane, as though she were laughing.

Kai was unimpressed. "Arrest him," he urged the guards. Arthur shot an irritated glare at him, then turned to Elsa.

"Look, I don't even know what's going on," he tried to reason with her, "maybe you could give me the letter and I'll explain everything to you."

"If you're innocent, you'll have nothing to fear," Elsa replied.

The guards surged forward and grabbed hold of Arthur. It was all he could do to stop himself from blasting them in the face. Mara whinnied in protest and headbutted one of the men, making him land on his rear.

"Restrain that horse!" Kai's voice thundered. Two men snatched Mara's reins and another pair held her down.

"Hey," Arthur said angrily, "be careful with her!"

"Be still," one of the guards told him as he struggled against their grip. Arthur tried one last time to break free, but the eight hands holding him proved too strong. He gave up and turned his head to Elsa.

"Is this how you treat your visitors, then?" He asked sarcastically. "With restraining orders and accusations?"

"I don't know," Olaf was telling Kristoff off to the side, "he seems like a pretty nice guy."

"Quiet, Olaf," Kristoff whispered. He was not enjoying this either, but he knew it was not his place to interfere.

"Elsa, please stop this," Pabbie implored her, "this is mistake. Listen to me, Arthur would never plan treason against you."

She looked away. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice quavering, "But I'm doing this for my kingdom."

"At least give him a chance to prove his innocence," the Troll reasoned.

"If the contents of the letter are to be believed," Kai said for the Queen, "then Arthur Halcyon is a dangerous man. It details plans for an invasion of Arendelle, and details him as part of an insider's job."

"That's absurd," Arthur protested.

"The letter was quite clear."

"And did it specifically say 'Arendelle'?" Arthur asked.

Kai hesitated. "No," he said slowly. "But it was obvious that the target is here."

"And how," Arthur breathed out in annoyance, "the hell, is that?"

"Hey, watch your language young man," Olaf said disapprovingly.

But no one was listening to the snowman. Kai produced the letter and read from it. "It mentions quite a few qualities pertaining only to Arendelle and the Queen."

"Such as?" Pabbie inquired.

"In particular, the Queen's magical powers."

Arthur began to think he knew what was going on. "Did the letter say they were Elsa's powers?"

Kai looked at the parchment again. "No," he admitted.

"Then how did you assume it was hers?"

"Well," Kai began, "because..." He stopped as the words began to sink in, and turned to Elsa for help, but she was equally dumbfounded. The Queen was trying to make sense of what Arthur said.

"So you're saying that there are other people who have powers, besides me?" She asked him.

Arthur gave a charming smile and indicated the guards with his head. "Maybe I'd talk better if I wasn't..."

She was interested in what he had to tell her, but she was unsure if she should set him free. Kai had often been adviser to her father. She glanced sideways at him to see if he had any opinion, but the steward seemed just as intrigued as she was. Hoping she was not making the wrong decision, Elsa nodded to the guards restraining Arthur, and they released him.

The red-head shook their hands off and stretched the ache out of his shoulders.

"Now," Elsa stepped toward him, "explain."

Arthur took a furtive glimpse at Pabbie. The troll met his gaze and nodded. It is time, his eyes said. With a sigh, Arthur adjusted his clothes and looked back at Elsa.

"Explain, huh?" He said with a smile.

This is going to take a long time, he thought.