Chapter 10
"So," Anna continued on cheerfully, "after that we went to the docks … and well you know what happened after that."
Reinhardt nodded in a very strained sort of way, tapping his tea cup idly on the saucer.
"Yes, I guess we do," Elsa added politely. Her heart wasn't in this conversation. She kept glancing at the door hoping to see Kai.
With the lull, the Prince saw his opening, his chance to get his whole visit back on course, so that he might get what he came for. "It was delightful going out with the Princess," Reinhardt said. "But since I am here to see you, I am hoping that we might get to spend some time alone together, perhaps tomorrow. We don't even have to go far, I understand the castle has lovely gardens."
"Oh," Elsa blinked bringing her attention back into the room. "Yes, indeed."
"So do you think that would be possible?" Reinhardt was watching her closely.
"Well, I usually like to check with my secretary, but I am sure that …" She trailed off and stood up as soon as the door opened, walking quickly over to Kai. At the door she turned and added, "If you'll just give me a moment."
"Is something wrong?" Reinhardt asked following her over. "Might I help?"
Elsa started, surprised that he had followed her into what was clearly a private conversation. "No, no, I am sure everything is fine ..." she pushed Kai out the door and followed him. "I'll be right back." Elsa pulled the door closed behind her and watched it carefully, half expecting the Prince to continue his pursuit. But he didn't. She was glad of that because once Kai gave her the entire update on what had transpired between the Winchester and the Agdar she found herself gaping in a very unqueenly way and then squeaking in surprise, "Here! He's coming here … to see me?"
Kai nodded.
"Oh my," Elsa took an unsteady step back and leaned on the door while she considered the rather awkward situation she was about to be in. "And nothing about Carolina?"
"Lady Fitzwilliam was seen in the company of Master Kristoff when they transferred to the Agdar. She was reported in good health."
"Then what in the world …" Elsa couldn't figure out why Prince Edmund of Avalon would arrive out of the blue declaring his intention to court her, with the woman who was her lover AND his half-sister in tow … unless Fitz hadn't told him … hadn't been able to tell him … was afraid to tell him. None of these possibilities seemed good.
"I expect the Prince will be here within the hour, Your Majesty."
"Oh … wonderful," Elsa breathed, thinking there was absolutely nothing wonderful about any of this. "Just let me know when he arrives. I'll greet him outside, on the portico. Oh … and have someone make up rooms for him – on – on the other side of the castle from Reinhardt, please."
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Lord Kristoff and his party were being escorted by Elsa's household guard to the castle from the docks. Edmund had brought Sergeant Moeltke as his valet. Fitz wasn't sure if that was for protection or other reasons, but she was glad her brother had someone to stand between him and any stray pike that might swing toward them. She was walking with Kristoff while her brother walked in front, clearly the focal point of the party. She hadn't exactly figured out what to do when they got to the castle. Edmund would present himself to the Queen, but if she was there ... then she would be able to see Elsa, but if she saw Elsa, she was also likely to run into that Prince from Luneberg, and if she met the Prince of Luneberg, it was very likely that not only would everyone in several countries know that she and Elsa were lovers, but she would have killed him, starting a war or some such nonsense. And that was exactly what this clever scheme was designed to prevent, needless bloodshed and embarrassing Elsa, not necessarily in that order. She was considering if she should return to her rooms at the tavern, which was a terribly depressing idea, when Edmund spoke to her.
"So Mil, have you thought about what I said?" Edmund asked.
"Said? Said what?" Fitz watched as Edmund wormed his way between her and Kristoff, giving the large man a firm squeeze on his shoulder. She hoped Moeltke was not the jealous sort.
"You know," Edmund kept his voice low. "What we talked about on the ship?"
"I don't remember …."
"You have to blend in ..." Edmund encouraged her to remember.
"Oh yes, you said something about that."
"So you'll be fine with it."
"Fine with what?" Fitz's brow wrinkled as she tried to remember the conversation, but it was lost to her.
By now Kristoff was fully engaged in their conversation, wondering himself where it was going.
Edmund looked both ways and then whispered, "Dressing like a lady. Wearing a dress, shoes, stockings, lacy underthings, whatever else it is that most women wear."
"What?" Fitz stopped dead in her tracks. Kristoff was afraid she was going to belt Edmund the way her whole body tensed up, and she clenched her fist. "You want me to do what?"
"Sssh," Edmund indicated she should lower her voice. "This isn't something we want anyone else to hear. The idea is that this other Prince won't notice you … or more like he will certainly notice you if you appear as a woman in man's clothing. And right now we don't want him to notice you."
Fitz began backing up, waving her hands in front of her, looking desperately for a way out. "Surely there is some other way ..."
"No," Kristoff interjected, "Edmund's right, and no one will recognize you in a dress. I mean except us. So no one will give you away, and you're less likely to be treated like a third suitor, intentionally or not. You also won't have to answer any embarrassing questions about what you're doing there."
"But I don't own any dresses," Fitz whined.
Kristoff had the solution to that little problem. "Anna can fix you up. She's good with that stuff, and she's got a ton of clothes. In fact, why don't you and I go find Anna? That will leave Edmund to do all the fancy stuff with Elsa, and we won't get in the way." Kristoff tried to placate her.
"Et tu, Brute," Fitz muttered, her whole body slumping forward.
"Really Mil, it's for the best." Edmund patted her on the shoulder. "We want him concentrating on me as his rival. We don't need you to distract him -" he looked thoughtful "- or kill him."
"It'll be OK," Kristoff tried to reassure a very forlorn and anxious looking Fitz. "Anna won't make it too painful. It'll be all low key. No fuss, no muss, that's just the way she is."
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"Oh … oh …OOOOOH!" Anna squealed excitedly, and she jumped up and down, clapping her hands together. "This is soooo wonderful! You are going to look sooooo great! I know just the thing, or things for you to wear. I mean you're not my size or Elsa's, but Elsa has so many dresses she never even had fitted, so we can start with one of the larger ones. We have a seamstress on staff … you know in case someone should accidentally rip a dress from time to time …. and she can make adjustments. Oh, you are going to look so … so perfect …so beautiful ... a real lady!"
Anna had left the tea and raced to meet Kristoff in the stable when she had gotten word he was back. Elsa had looked very unhappy with her leaving. Anna supposed that her sister wanted to be able to see Fitz, but someone had to stay with Reinhardt, and frankly Anna had done her Prince babysitting duty for the day.
When she found out that not only was Kristoff back in time for the formal dinner tonight, but that she was going to get to transform Fitz into … a lady. Well, she was beside herself.
"And this is the perfect time," the Princess continued. "It's a formal dinner tonight, so I have to get dressed up anyway, and you can be really, really, really dressed up … I mean, makeup and everything! We'll be like best girl-friends helping each other get ready. I mean, you know … if we were both helping."
Fitz growled, and Kristoff nodded in satisfaction, heading quickly for the door. "OK, that's good. Great to see a plan come together. I'll just leave you two."
"Oh, no you don't. You're not going anywhere." Anna grabbed Kristoff and pulled him back. "You're going to be dressed to the nines yourself tonight. You, sir, are going to look like a Prince."
"What? Why?" Now Kristoff felt the trap closing on him, and he wasn't any happier about it.
"Yes, we'll show that weasel Sandvik that you're not just some old ice-harvester."
"But I am some old ice-harvester!" he protested.
"No, you're not! You're the Master Ice Harvester and Deliverer of Arendelle by appointment of the Queen." Anna brushed some dirt off his coat with a brusque slap. "And soon to be Prince of Arendelle."
Kristoff closed his eyes in anguish. Once Anna got this determined there was no stopping her.
Fitz snorted unsympathetically, "At least you get to wear pants."
"Misery loves company doesn't it," Kristoff muttered.
"Indeed it does," Fitz responded.
"Oh, this is going to be so fun!" Anna took Kristoff and Fitz each in a hand and dragged them off toward the castle. "There is so much to do!"
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Elsa stood on the portico before the doors of the castle, watching the approach of the little party with Edmund at its center. She exercised every bit of her long-practiced self control to not fidget. Or ice over anything. Or … scream. Reinhardt stood at her side, presumptuous bastard that he was, acting as though this were his castle and he was welcoming the approaching guests. She clenched her jaw so hard she was afraid she'd break a tooth. It was enough that she had the perplexing situation of her lover's brother coming to court her – but she also had to have some strange, arrogant idiot from half a continent away acting like he owned her already.
Still, despite her mood, she had to admit that this Prince Edmund of Avalon cut a fine figure in his dress uniform, jaunty hat, half cape and the finest of gold braid. He and Fitz clearly shared good taste in dress, his being much more elaborate, but then he was the prince. Elsa could also see the family resemblance, the hair, the carriage … the nose. And they were both tall, Edmund even taller. So it wasn't too difficult for her to put on a polite smile as he stopped a measured three paces in front of her, swept off his hat in an expansive gesture and bowed to her as Kai announced him.
"Your Majesty, His Royal Highness Edmund Geoffry Henry William of Avalon, fourth in line to the throne of Avalon, Duke of Westerly, ..." The titles went on for some time, and Elsa found her thoughts drifting to Carolina. She had hoped to see her, even though she was worried about her interacting with Reinhardt. She wondered if she had gone back to that inn, which was a terribly depressing idea. Well ingrained reflexes told her when the introduction was over, and she inwardly shifted her attention to this new Prince.
Edmund straightened to attention, handed his hat to Moeltke, stepped a mere half a step closer to Elsa saying, "Your Majesty, the tales of your beauty that have come to my ears were woefully inadequate to fully describe the glory that is the Queen of Arendelle. May I thank you for receiving me? I know that the recent unpleasantness between our two nations could have made this uncomfortable, and I appreciate your graciousness toward me and my House."
Elsa recieved his words with a nod, impressed at his courtesy. It wasn't his words, although acknowledging that this was an awkward visit was good form, but she noticed at once how he respected her space. Even in this brief encounter he had already demonstrated a willingness to wait on her, to allow her to dictate the terms of their meeting right down to the distance between them. She thought back to the last time someone had given her this courtesy with such easy grace. Either it was a cultural artifact from Avalon, one she would gladly import, or the blood of a tyrant had some redeeming qualities.
Edmund wasn't finished with his greeting yet, however. He gestured to his aide, who stepped forward and handed him a small package wrapped elegantly with ribbons in the colors of Arendelle. Edmund opened the bow with gloved fingers and removed a series of books.
Bowing again, the Prince extended the gifts to Elsa. "In addition to the tales of your exquisite loveliness, I have heard of your keen intellect and love of learning. May I present to you these books? This set of three comprises the first edition of Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica. It is the 1687 edition. I realize the 1749 edition is more accurate, but I was afraid you would have that already, and the earlier copy has sentimental value to lovers of mathematics."
Elsa took the books, cradling the rich leather volumes in her hands and feeling a bubble of child-like delight at the thought of having such a set for her very own. Copies of the first printing of Principia Mathematica were very rare, only a few had been made, and these were never seen outside of Avalon. "Thank you," she said a little awestruck. "This is truly a magnificent gift."
Edmund then handed over another volume with a smile that bordered on sly. "This book, Hebrew Melodies, features the poetry of Lord George Gordon Noel, 6th Baron Byron, one of our leading romantic poets, set to music by Isaac Nathan. Bryon is terribly popular at home, perhaps because he was best described as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know."
"By his mistress, I believe," Elsa added with a smirk.
"Oh, I hope I did not offend you, but you seem very much a woman of the world, someone who knows her own mind." Edmund peered intently at her face searching for her reaction. When she did not seem affronted he continued, "And there is a poem, 'She walks in beauty like the night,' which upon meeting you I realize is indeed an accurate description."
"You flatter me." A gentle blush colored Elsa's cheeks at Edmund's gallantry.
He gave her a wink, "Well, that thought is not original, I'm afraid. It came from," he paused for emphasis, "someone close to me – but I do concur."
Elsa chuckled and tension rolled off her body. Edmund knew. He knew about her and Carolina, and he didn't object. That still didn't explain why he was here allegedly to court her, but at least she was fairly sure he wasn't her enemy, and he might even be a friend. Savoring this good news, Elsa was about to invite Edmund in and set Kai to showing him to his rooms when she heard a loud cough from behind her. Oh yes – Reinhardt. That - that man, he dampened the mood Edmund had created like one of her old ice-soaked blankets. She tried very hard to maintain an affable tone of voice as she introduced him.
"Your Highness," Elsa gestured from Edmund to Reinhardt, "may I present Prince Reinhardt of Luneberg. Reinhardt, this is Prince Edmund. I do not think I have the breath for all his titles." She smiled with genuine warmth at Edmund.
Edmund laughed at her joke, and Reinhardt twitched at being relegated to the junior status during this introduction. The Prince greeted Edmund with a stiff foot stomping salute. Elsa thought if he had been a dog he would have growled and raised his hackles to frighten off the intruder. Edmund merely returned a short bow, the bow one gave a peer or an inferior.
For his part, Edmund didn't personally know Reinhardt of Luneberg, but he knew the sort of man who stood before him. This was a man who had already seen himself as King of Arendelle. He had not been here four days and already he was playing house as the protective husband, and not with the permission of the Queen, of that Edmund was sure. Oh, this would be a delightful little game. Reinhardt could piss on whatever he wished to try to claim his territory. His Highness of Luneberg might think he was in a fight for Elsa, but that was a battle that had never begun. This Princeling was not half the man he was and not a quarter of the worth of Milly. Reinhardt could scurry home and take up with some noble lady who wanted to quietly stand behind her man. This Queen deserved someone better. Edmund knew, this Queen was meant to be with his sister.
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"Yes, that's the one that fits. I don't know what size they thought Elsa was, she'd have to be the Abominable Snow Queen to fit in this." Anna cocked her head as she looked critically at the dress now gracing Fitz's frame.
"Excuse me?" Fitz was grumpy, and being spoken about as if she weren't in the room only made her grumpier.
Anna waved her words off as if they were flies. "You've have to admit you've got shoulders larger than your average woman, and you're very tall, taller than even Elsa."
"Just remember, Your Highness," the seamstress added. "It's always easier to take in a dress than let it out. Fortunately I won't have to do much here, just a touch in the waist. Her undergarments will fill out the rest of it."
"Oh yes, that reminds me." Anna looked around. "Gerda, did you find enough underthings for Fitz?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I've got a corset, roll and chemise from Her Majesty's extras. I am afraid the chemise will be a bit tight."
"I bet it will be fine. They're actually both pretty large up there, just in different places." Anna held her hands out in front of her chest in the international symbol for large breasts.
"Good god, woman!" Fitz spat out. "You're talking about your sister!"
"Calm down, Fitz … no, Milly. It's just us girls in here. It's OK. Girls are allowed to notice each other … to talk about those things … and you know ... do this."
She reached out and squeezed Fitz's breasts, laughing when she jumped. "So where do you keep these puppies in your clothes?"
"My puppies, as you call them, fit nicely in my shirts and waistcoat, thank you very much, unlike your ..." Fitz gestured at Anna's chest, "unruly dogs."
Anna just laughed louder, "You think mine are unruly, you should see Elsa's ..."
"Anna!" Fitz yelped, both incensed they would be discussing this and unbelieving that she would think this wasn't information Fitz already had. "Do you think I have not appreciated Her Majesty's …." she sputtered, "figure?"
"Oh yeah … I guess ..." she looked around conspiratorially, and winked at Gerda, "but figure? Come on Milly, like I said … it's just us girls … how about boobs?"
Fitz grumbled something about "mixed company and "not seemly" and then held out her arms for the thousandth time in that hour for the seamstress to place the last pins.
"But Fitz!" Anna was giggling like a madwoman poking an enraged bear, "the company is not mixed! You're a woman!"
"That is enough, Anna! Leave Lady Fitzwilliam alone," Gerda said sharply.
And Fitz watched, amazed, as Anna stopped talking immediately, her eyes dropping, and blushed. She even sat down looking quite abashed. The seamstress shivered a little at the housekeeper's tone, as she scurried off to make the final adjustments to the dress. Fitz was a little jealous, even as Captain of the Vigilant she hadn't commanded that level of fear and respect. Gerda, having made her point, walked calmly from the room to find the needed undergarments for Fitz.
Kristoff had been sent off with a footman to change into his most formal clothes. Fitz had graciously offered her sword to him, as she would have no use for it tonight. Well she hoped she would have no use for it tonight. In any case, it was best to avoid temptation. Anna had also requested the loan of her beige silk cravat for Kristoff. Fitz was glad he wasn't here to see her humiliation as they tried dress after dress on her … most not even going over her shoulders, and more than one cut so that Fitz would have felt more properly attired if she were naked. She made a point of remembering those, though. Elsa would have to try them on for her. Elsa was going to owe her after tonight … at least that was her plan. Well, maybe not owe, she would settle for forgive … but the more daring dresses could be part of the forgiveness package.
They, Anna, Gerda, and the seamstress, had settled on a deep purple dress with green accents that was both generously cut enough in the bodice to accommodate her shoulders and was long enough that she wouldn't look like she was waiting for the fjord to flood. Being the colors of Arendelle, purple and green were popular gift colors. Anna made mention of the fact that she probably had a matching dress in the inverse colors, but she wouldn't wear it. Apparently that was some odd sort of woman faux pas thing that Fitz didn't understand.
"OK now, into the tub and then we'll start dressing you." Anna pointed toward her bathroom door. A maid had filled it moments earlier.
Fitz protested,"Dinner isn't until nine oclock. It's not much past 5 now." She dearly wanted to spend her few remaining hours of freedom out of that damned dress.
Anna clucked her tongue and continued pointing at the bathroom. "We should be downstairs in the drawing room for drinks by eight. It will take the full three hours to get you dressed … and I have to change too."
Fitz looked at her in disbelief. It couldn't possibly take three hours to get dressed. Not even Elsa took that long.
"Shoo, shoo," Anna waved her away with the back of her hand. "You've got to get into the tub and right back out. And make sure to wash your hair thoroughly."
"I always bathe thoroughly."
"Great." Anna seemed pleased. "I sometimes have to remind Kristoff."
"I'm not bloody Kristoff." Fitz sat on the chair, pulled off her boots and began to remove her shirt. She looked up at Anna. "Are you going to just stand there?"
"Are you shy?" Anna said with a giggle.
"No!" Fitz replied far too forcefully. "But … at least give me a dressing gown."
Anna rolled her eyes and got one of her robes out and handed it to Fitz. Fitz stared at the short pink wrap, white lace gracing the collar and cuffs, with distaste, but she threw it over her shoulder and stomped off into the bath. Anna began to hunt for her own choice of clothing when she remembered something. Fitz was entirely the wrong color for a lady of the court. Grabbing a small box of powder from her dresser she opened the door to the bath and walked in.
There was a yelp of surprise and splashing. Anna found herself laughing again, this time safe from Gerda's admonishment. "So you are shy," she tittered.
"Just get the bloody hell out!" Fitz roared.
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"OK, so I'm not going to lace you up too tightly, you're not used to it, but hang on." Anna wrapped her hands in the laces of the corset. She wasn't usually on this side of the pulling.
"Hang on to what?" Fitz gasped as all the air was forced from her lungs.
Gerda grabbed her hands and placed them on the bedpost. "Let me give it a try," she said to Anna, gently elbowing the Princess out of the way. "Lady Fitzwilliam, you should try and relax on three. One, two ..." Gerda pulled on the corset strings with all her might, making Fitz's waistline smaller by several inches quite suddenly.
Fitz swung around purple-faced and ready to take a swing at someone. Gerda met her eyes. There was a brief staring match before Fitz sighed and turned back to hold on to the bedpost once more.
Once the corset was tightened to Gerda's satisfaction she turned Fitz back around. "There you go, you look like a proper lady."
"How the hell … do … you … breathe?" Fitz wheezed.
"Now you just need to sound like lady," Gerda scolded her.
"Breathe from up here," Anna patted the top of Fitz's newly found decolletage. "It's more of an up and down thing than an in and out thing."
"I've finished the dress," the seamstress announced as she brought it in. She stopped as if she had bumped into a wall. "Oh my," was her only comment.
"What?" Fitz demanded, gasping for air. "What's the problem? What ... has she ... done to me?"
Fitz was a sight. Anna had gotten her into some matching green stockings that were held up at the thigh by linen garters. She was wearing her own bloomers … well, drawers - such as they were – more linen shorts than anything Anna had ever seen before, Elsa's chemise which was at least four inches too short, and then on top of that Elsa's corset, which was also short leaving a good three inches of chemise covered abdomen exposed. Topping this all off was a hip roll, which should have been over the very bottom of the corset, but in this case just sort of floated on the chemise at her hips.
"Nothing, you're fine." Anna answered her charge. Then turning to the seamstress she said with a defensive hiss, "It'll look fine with the dress on." She gave Fitz's head a push. "Come on, now head down."
Fitz, quite red faced and trying to argue that she wasn't doing this until someone told her what was wrong, found her head thrust downward. Suddenly she was overcome by dizziness, pitching forward, pulling Anna down on the floor with her. Gerda tsked, "Lady Fitzwilliam, you must breathe," and yanked her up by the arm.
Anna bounced up as well with an amused, "I thought I was the only one who did that." She stepped back to Fitz and put her hand on her cleavage, ignoring Fitz's wide eyes and obviously discomfiture. "Now, breathe in and push my hand up. OK, OK, good, now out. Right. You'll be taking shallower and more frequent breaths. In and out. Good. In and out."
Anna beckoned the seamstress over, and they managed to get the dress up and over Fitz head without her bending over. When finally it was on, the three women, Anna, Gerda and the seamstress, stood back and admired their handiwork.
"Not bad," Anna said with a nod.
"She looks rather fine," Gerda concurred.
"What are you going to do with her hair?" the seamstress asked.
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"No." Fitz furrowed her brow and stomped her foot. It would have been more impressive a stomp if she had been wearing her boots, but in the low heeled slippers Gerda had found for her it was a resounding pat.
"You have to; it matches the dress." Anna said as if this were some law of nature.
"You have poked and prodded, and pushed me into this bloody torture device. You have powdered and primped, and put makeup on me. But I am NOT wearing a bloody hair ribbon," Fitz bellowed.
"Language, Lady Fitzwilliam," Gerda roared. "Language. Proper ladies do not speak that way."
"I don't bloody care," Fitz roared back at her.
Again they locked eyes. This time Fitz swore she wasn't backing down.
But neither was Gerda. "Let me remind you, Lady Fitzwilliam," she said evenly, "that as the housekeeper I supervise the maids who make your bed and do your laundry. I also have considerable sway with the footmen who shine your boots and clean your coats. So if you ever want your bed properly sheeted ..."
"I can steal from Her Majesty …" Fitz answered determinedly.
"Your baths hot ..."
"Not a concern, there is only cold water available aboard a ship ..."
"Your boots polished ..."
"I can polish my own boots, thank you very much."
Gerda played her final card. "Your drawers lost to the world, your pants conspicuously missing?"
"You wouldn't." Fitz's eyes widened.
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Gerda crossed her arms and gave Fitz a look that reminded her terribly of her mother.
Anna nodded fervently, "She would. Don't cross her Fitz; it's just a really bad idea."
"Fine," Fitz said with a grumble. "Put the bloody thing in."
"Lady Fitzwilliam, language!" Gerda shook her finger in Fitz's face. She'd have tweaked her ear if she wasn't worried about mussing the powder.
"I am so sorry," Fitz choked out between tight lips. "I shall endeavour to speak like a proper lady."
"Ah, that's a good girl," Gerda patted her shoulder. "Now smile."
Fitz gave her a smile that said volumes about what she could do with this outfit when all of this was over.