Hey everyone! Thanks for reading, following, favoriting and all that other good stuff! I don't know how long I can keep up with the update a day, but I'll do my best! Where do you all think I'm going with this? Any ideas or thoughts are welcome!
The jagged, bleak shores of Valdiston hadn't changed a bit since Don had last set foot on them. The massive, heavily sheltered bay, nearly a perfect circle a mile across, was edged with knife bladed peaks. Houses were built all along them, so that the walls looked as if it were a beehive.
At the center opposite the bay entrance, was his father's palace, a monolithic fortress, with massed batteries of ballista's lining its walls.
It was towards this that the Sturmfisch arrowed, heading towards the dock below the walls. Don looked sideways, at Josephus. Then out into the bay.
Nearly forty ships littered the bay, all at anchor. That was nearly five times as many as was the normal. Not to mention that most of these ships were warships, with catapults and their own lighter version of the fortress ballista mounted on turntables.
"So this is my father's fleet," He said, just loud enough for Josephus to hear. "It's quite impressive."
Josephus slapped him on the back.
Trying to act friendly again. I've been behaving, He thought to himself, but that will only last so long.
He'd even been allowed to wear his sword, and one of his… no, one of Josephus' men had been kind enough to patch the hole in his uniform. So he at least looked the part, except that his left arm was in a sling, the wound still being bandaged and raw. It would likely be weeks before he had any kind of use out of his arm.
The Sturmfisch bumped against the dock, coarse words running between the line handlers on the ship and the dock. Soon he found himself walking with Josephus towards the gates of the castle, two members of the crew following them.
The Palace of Valdiston had been constructed by Don's great, great grandfather, when he'd first come from the east to set up his own kingdom. It was strange, in that it actually had two levels, like a pair of steps on stairs. The first sat down at the bottom of the knife wall, while the second stretched upwards over them, stretching for several hundred feet back towards the heart of the island. It had never been taken in battle, and only a pair of sieges had been attempted. Both had been repelled with nearly half of the attacking force dead below the walls.
The grand hall, which despite its name, was actually one of the smaller buildings in the fortress. But it was still large, and its domed roofs brought back painful memories for Don.
No time to dwell on the past.
He walked fast, feeling only a cold gnawing sensation in his chest, most likely the stress and consternation of having to come home. He soon approached the gate.
A squad of his father's guards, wearing long blue cloaks and carrying long war axes, blocked his way.
"Identify yourself!" He said.
Don made eye contact with the guard captain, and saw the man's eyes widen with recognition. Brushing roughly by the guards, he made his way through the gates, and started his long ascent up the stairs.
I'm coming father, He thought, Are you ready for me? Are you ready to pay for locking these memories away?
"I can't believe we still can't find that captain of the guards. The man is easily recognizable, and the fact that he was able to break an entire group of the royal guards out of their captivity is a bit remarkable…"
Elsa did her best to listen in on the conversation from the table that had been set up in front of her throne, without appearing to do so.
In the week since the coup, she'd been largely relegated to the grand hall or her own room. Except for the final ceremony of the Winter Festival, where she'd been forced to grant the Baron of Snake River the title of Chancellor of the Realm. Along with granting him the title of Duke, of course.
The final ceremony had also been the last time she'd seen her sister, Kristoff and Olaf. All three had been nearby, though from the proximity of the guards standing behind them, she knew they likely had knives to their back. It was unfortunate that Snake River was sending them all to his own lands, as 'guests'.
It was the worst situation possible.
"You Majesty, do you have anything to add about the current situation?"
She looked up, drawn from her musings by the Duke of Snake Rivers almost light hearted words.
"No, Your Grace," She said, though her heart told her to make some snarky comment, she thought better of it, "I believe that your capable hands will be able to solve it."
The Duke nodded, almost graciously, before turning back to whatever it was. While Elsa returned to her musings.
I wonder how the Captain escaped, and where he's gone off too.
"Anna, are you feeling okay?"
Kristoff tapped her on the shoulder, as she made another gagging noise.
"Ugh… I hate riding in carriages, I'm…" She gagged again, and Kristoff moved over closer to Olaf.
"Don't get sick in here, Anna!" The snowman said, scrambling up onto the bench. "That'd be gross!"
Kristoff pounded on the wall between their cabin and the platform where the driver rode.
"Hey! The Princess is going to be sick!" No response. "Hey!"
The carriage began to slow, coming to a halt with a lurching, hopping sensation. Anna gagged again, just as the door was pulled open.
"Don't puke in my carriage, damn it!" The carriage driver said. He was a little man, shorter then Anna, and old. "Get out, get out!"
Anna was the first out, followed by Olaf. She ran off into some bushes, where he could hear her gagging and spitting up. Kristoff looked around, finding them ringed by a dozen horsemen, their swords drawn and crossbows cocked. One of them, wearing a plume in his helmet rode over to the carriage driver.
"Why are you stopping? Get them back in the carriage!"
The little man stubbornly shook his head.
"No," He yelled back at the officer, "You may have rented my services, but I will not clean puke up out of my carriage! Why are you worried anyways? There are a dozen of you here! It's not like anyone could attack us!"
The officer rode up close to him, placing the tip of his blade against the man's nose.
"Get our guests back in the carriage, now!"
Kristoff and Olaf just watched with a sense of dread as the officer turned to look at them.
"You need to get back in the… Wait, where's the girl?"
Kristoff turned, not seeing Anna near the bushes anymore.
Oh god… Now she's trying to escape. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed, exasperated. Another of Anna's awesome ideas. This almost beats when I tried to teach Anna how to drive a sled.
He shook his head, not wanting to remember that nightmare. He'd had to spend days going around and apologizing to all of the people who'd nearly been killed.
The officer motioned to a group of men.
"You all, go find her!"
The horsemen trotted off into the underbrush on either side of the road. Snow, ice and mud hampered their progress, and several of them dismounted.
The officer rode over to Kristoff and Olaf, sword pointed at them.
"Don't you two get any funny ideas!"
"Ideas? I barely ever have any ideas." Olaf said.
Kristoff shook his head, sitting down on the steps into the carriage.
A quarter of an hour went by, then half, then three quarters, and still the horsemen hadn't returned. The officer seemed to be getting antsy, as the sun fell, pacing his horse back and forth. Finally, they heard brush snapping, and the men appeared, Anna was thrown over ones saddle. She was still struggling, though she was bound and gagged.
The horsemen stopped a few yards away, dismounting and dragging the princess to the ground. In the darkness, you couldn't quite see the men's faces.
"Phelps, what took you so long?"
"Oh, we had some stuff to take care of."
Kristoff jumped in surprise, as the officer spun his horse around. A dozen men stood from the brush around them, all wearing the uniform of the royal guard, with crossbows aimed and ready to fire.
That voice… I've heard that voice before!
It was the Captain of the guard. He spurred his horse forward, drawing his sword, and slashed the rebel officer across his chest, leaving a deep red gash.
"Now!"
A dozen crossbows fired as one.
Don reached the top of the steps, approaching the grand hall.
The men who had been following him had disappeared, even Josephus. Now he walked alone, his footsteps echoing across the courtyard. The doors were already open, and he could hear a number of conversations going on from inside, amplified by the interior structure of the hall.
Don stepped into the grand hall, jaw clenched, and all the murmuring conversations stopped.
A hundred pairs of eyes turned to him. Only one pair of those eyes interested him. His heels clicked against the polished floor as he walked towards his father's throne.
The men on either side were the duma, his father's councilor who assisted him with running Valdiston and the other cities of his kingdom. There was only a single requirement to become a part of the duma, and that was too take a man's life in combat. A simple requirement.
Good, mother isn't here. I wouldn't want her to be hurt. He thought, seeing the smaller, empty throne next to his fathers.
"Ah, my heir has returned from his mission." His father's coarse voice echoed down the hall. "How went the mission."
Don didn't say anything, feeling his rage building inside him. He simply kept walking purposefully towards his father, the members of the duma looking on with resigned expressions.
"Has someone cut out your tongue, boy," His father called again, "Speak boy!"
Stopping at the beginning of the open area before his father's throne, he did not kneel as was required. His father lounged on his throne, head propped up with his arm. His father's brown eyes watched him with fleeting interest.
"Well?" He said again, a hint of agitation showing through.
"I challenge you for the throne."
Don pitched his voice so all around could hear, trying to inject it with strength that he honestly didn't feel. His heart beat fast, as his father sat up, his arms going to grip the chairs of the throne.
He'd been planning this since
"What was that?" His father said, putting a hand to his ear. "I couldn't quite hear you.
"You heard me!" Don yelled, tired of his father's mocking, insulting attitude. "I challenge you for the throne!"
His father stood explosively, all six foot five of him. He and his father did look quite a bit alike, sharing the same oak brown hair, the same wide nose, and the same chin. But his father was larger by a large amount. He was at least three or four inches taller, and much beefier. He had wrists that showed he'd been in quite a few battles, thick with corded muscle.
The men of the duma began to whisper among themselves. He had once before challenged his father, and been beaten down. It had become something of a joke among the people of Valdiston, they laughed that the 'Wee Prince' thought he could take on Ivan the Brutal.
I'll show them today…
"Don't you remember what happened last time?" His father said. "I didn't even have to use a sword. And… you don't even have any use of your left arm. I will not fight you, injured. It would be an insult."
His father barely had time to duck as a burst of lightning leapt from Don's outstretched hand. The men of the duma didn't even flinch, though some of them let out yells of anger as the throne disintegrated. It had been a gift to his great grandfather from his brother, the Emperor of the East, and had been in place for over a hundred years. Now it was a smolder, splintered wreck.
His father danced out of the way of the next bolt, his sword coming out of its sheath with a rasping noise.
"You locked away my memories, you bastard!" He screamed, sending another burst of lightning towards his father. "You sent me to Arendelle under a false flag! To deliver lies! You gave me this curse!"
Rain began to fall inside the hall, and thunder boomed out, as a strange gathering of clouds appeared above him.
"Ah! I see now where your anger comes from!" His father yelled, spinning out of the way of another bolt. "Someone unlocked your memories for you! Was it the trolls of Arendelle? Or perhaps that pretty Queen… I've heard that she is-"
"Don't you speak about her!" Don bellowed, letting loose a barrage of hate fueled lightning.
It struck his father. Lighting danced across his chest
Finally, its over! He thought, elated. He'd finally struck his father a blow!
But his elation turned to horror and confusion as his father stood, wiping a bit of blood from his mouth.
"That hurt." He said simply, before charging.
Don let loose another bolt, feeling fear leeching through him. Again, his father stumbled, but got right back up, his sword aiming for Don's heart. Don's own sword snaked its way awkwardly out of its sheath, his hand convulsing slightly from using his powers.
How did he survive that? It should have killed him!
Their blades met, and his father's blows soon sent his sword skittering across the stone. Something was wrong with Don's body, it was responding sluggishly and…
His father caught him off guard, delivering a punishing blow to the face. It snapped his head around, making his teeth clack together with a clearly audible noise. Ivan's boot slammed into his side, sending him sliding across the floor. He approached again, but Don was in his own little personal hell, as a freezing sensation took hold in his chest.
"Well boy," His father said, back to his usual semi-composed self, "It looks like you got more than you bargained for from the Ice Queen."
What is he talking about?
His father lifted his sword up, so that the flat of the blade was towards him.
Don's reflection was… different. The left side of his head was streaked with white.
Elsa's attack… It's…
His father sheathed his sword, roughly lifting Don up by his jacket. His thumb was dug into Don's wound, a careful cruelty by his father that made him squirm in pain.
He's trying to teach me a lesson… Don thought, his mind a confused jumble.
"Listen to me," His father said, holding him aloft with one hand, using his other to turn his head to face him, "You've lost for the second time. I will spare you again, but if you challenge me a third time, I will kill you. You won't be necessary in a few months, since I will have a second heir."
It took a few seconds for his father's statement to make sense.
"Mother's… pregnant?" He was able to strangle out.
"We found out when right after you left." His father said. "The child is due in five months. By then, Arendelle will be destroyed. A fitting birthday present."
"Father… You cannot destroy Arendelle, they are…"
"Let me guess," His father said matter-of-factly, "You've fallen in love with someone there. I'm guessing from your outburst earlier, that it's the Queen of Arendelle." His father grinned. "If you love her so much, maybe I'll give her to you when I conquer her pissant little kingdom."
Don struggled slightly, but his father held on tightly.
"No… I won't let you," He said, his voice faltering, "I… I'll conjure a storm to sink your fleet…"
Ivan chuckled, dropping Don. He collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," His father said, squatting down next to him. He reached in his jacket and pulled out a small necklace. A little stone amulet hung around his neck. "I'm guessing you know who Djavul is?" Don nodded imperceptibly. "Well he gave me this little beauty, an amulet that absorbs magic. And he also explained to me a few other things. It looks like your shelf life may be coming to an end even sooner… Your heart is frozen, boy."
It all made sense to Don at that moment. Elsa had frozen his heart... She'd told him a little about how she'd frozen Anna's heart, how…
An expression of true love is all that can thaw a frozen heart. He thought, remembering her words.
But, why had her magic now begun to affect him earlier? It must have been his curse, 'protecting' him from it. It kept the ice at bay, as long as he didn't use his magic.
His father called for a pair of guards to take him to the Palace, while Don watched all of his plans crumble around him.
Alrighty, I have a little non essential story information for you all. I've based this on the 1800s, in the area of the Baltic sea. If you want to see how all of the cities match up, just goto google and type in Baltic Sea. I've had this stuff stewing in my head and I just gotta get it out.
Valdiston- Based on the isle of Gotland, the city is where Visby is (North West part). I've given them a strong Russian/ Swedish makeup, with a British arrogance and level of seamanship.
Arendelle- Approximately in the area of the city of Goteberg.
Corona- The city from Tangled(Yes, you will be getting a little crossover!), is right on the border between Poland and Germany, Ostseebad herringsdorf.
The Southern Isles- Pretty much Denmark. (Sorry to any citizens of Denmark reading this story for being associated with Hans!)
Paix-On-The-Sea- Someplace that may be explored later on(or in the sequel). Approximately where Calais, France is.
Weselton- in the area of Lubeck.