Notes:
Sorry for such a huge wait between updates - I was on holiday, and when I got back was feeling pretty negative about the current structure of this story. I'm a stickler for very deliberate structural choices and I felt that this fic wasn't delivering.
As such, I've been doing a fair amount of planning, re-organising and decision-making about various arcs. Hopefully, there should start to be more drive and neatness to the next few sections of this story.
To make up for the long absence, I'm going to spam a fair few chapters today and tomorrow!
Thanks for sticking with this story - hopefully, the structure hasn't been bugging you as much as it has me. Any feedback about this would be super appreciated.
BFM x
Elsa – and Anna, though more sporadically so – was fascinated by the repairs to the castle. Her whole life, the castle had been like some great immovable mountain. It was immutable; impregnable. Nothing could shake it.
The way it had so easily crumbled under her magic was a culture shock to say the least.
Master Haugen had completely redesigned the replacement sections, and explained its intricacies to a slightly open-mouthed Elsa and Olaf.
He gesticulated broadly with a sweeping hand towards a very complex-looking section of interlacing brickwork. "As you can see your majesty, we have been able to drastically reduce the amount of wood used in construction and introduce a number of expansion joints. As previously discussed, I am confident this will allow the design to withstand extreme temperature change far better than the previous – these new sections will be less susceptible to deformation."
"Amazing," Elsa murmured, striding forward to examine the brick more carefully. Olaf hopped after her. "This is excellent, Master Haugen. I offer you my sincere thanks."
Without waiting for a response, and with only the slightest hesitation, Elsa sent a sweep of ice into the wall. The bricks frosted over, smoking like dry ice against the warm temperature of the air, crystals skittered and scattered over their faces and between Haugen's painstakingly detailed patterns. She listened carefully for any sound of creaking or cracking in the structure. She could hear Haugen hold his breath and Olaf gasp in wonder.
There were no ominous sounds from the wall. Elsa pushed harder, willing the temperature of the brick to drop further – and expecting at any moment to hear groans, creaks, splinters –
But there was nothing.
She dropped the onslaught and allowed the warmth of joy flow from her and into the bricks. Haugen breathed a sigh of relief.
His queen turned to him.
"Master Haugen, this is fantastic. You have achieved what I actually thought was impossible. Thank you." She smiled, widely, and inclined her head to him. Olaf copied her.
Haugen bowed low in response. "It was my pleasure, your majesty. It has been quite a while since I had such a challenge, and I am honoured to have been of service. May I show you the completed work on the dungeon also?"
"I would love that."
The town hall was a low, squat building that looked out of place among the multi-tiered, pointed aesthetic of Arendelle. It had been painted bright blue at some point, in an attempt to help it blend in – but even that could hardly disguise the fact that it was much, much older than most of the other buildings. That said, it was bustling – always populated with people coming and going like honey bees.
This morning, it was host to one of Anna's 'creative and constructive enrichment activities' – a music group for kids. They sang, learnt instruments and generally soaked up an atmosphere they never otherwise would.
"Come on, Sofia, it'll be fine! Frue Mona is nice, I promise."
The little girl shook her head.
"I know you don't know anyone yet – but you know me, and I always say that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet."
Another head shake.
"Hey, listen," Anna crouched down before her, seized with a sudden idea. "What if I come sit next to you? I don't know the tune either, so we can both learn it together. Then you won't be the only one. How does that sound?"
It was Sofia's first time at the choir. Her father had dropped her off (the other, unofficial function of Anna's enrichment activities was free child care. Not that Anna minded: if it meant both the children's parents could work and the family could more easily put food on the table, there was no problem). Sofia was incredibly shy, but wearing her best dress. At Anna's words, she peeked through her fingers and nodded.
"Come on then," Anna took her little hand. "Let's get a good seat."
It was almost noon when Kristoff arrived at the guildhall.
Hauling his blocks into the icehouse and collecting his payment ("North and south, Bjorgman, how much ice did you bring me this time?") he hesitated – then walked Sven to the guildhouse stables.
"Right Sven – I'm going to see Elsa. You get some rest and I'll be back later, ok?"
And he found himself traversing the castle's corridors without getting lost once.
Elsa was in her study. When he knocked on the open door, she looked up from the chess board before her.
"Kristoff!" She stood, and smiled, and gestured for him to come in. He did.
"Elsa. I thought I'd – I just got back from the ice fields."
Her hands were folded before her and though she was wearing one of those peculiarly icy dresses, and smiling with a genuine warmth, something about her was even more tightly wound than usual.
"It's good to see you back. How was your trip?"
"Great, thank you. Are you – playing chess with yourself?"
Elsa glanced back at the board and smiled sheepishly, like a child caught with the jam jar. "Yeah. It was my father's. Anna doesn't really play – Olaf gets over-excited and names all the pawns – and it would seem nobles always lose on purpose."
Kristoff grinned slightly. "That makes sense."
"Should I – call for some tea or anything?"
"I'm good. Thanks. How has – everything been here?"
Elsa shrugged. She sat down, and gestured for Kristoff to do the same. He sat on that sofa that so often Elsa saw occupied by Anna and a book.
"Things have been quiet here, actually. Anna's been quite… she misses you when you're not here."
Kristoff rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. He'd spent the past week trying to convince himself that Anna needed space, and whatever she decided – whatever that letter had said – he'd accept it.
"She's been quite… you know. With the news about Hans."
He cleared his throat. "I don't… What happened? With Hans? Anna didn't say," he apologised. "It's none of my business, but – "
Elsa was surprised. "She didn't say?"
"No." Kristoff was beginning to wish he'd never raised the subject. Any second, Elsa was going to demand he leave the castle, forbid him to ever see Anna again, strip him of Guildmaster status for his impertinence –
"All the letter says it that Hans is… well, not yet receiving the kind of punishment we'd hoped for. He's maintaining that he loves Anna – " she made a face – "And that I am holding Arendelle and everyone in it under some kind of spell. Manipulating people against him."
Kristoff looked faintly disgusted. "And they're buying that?"
"It would seem so. His step-mother isn't – but his father most certainly is." Elsa sighed heavily. "He might try to write to Anna."
"But Anna said – he told her all those things – I remember her saying over dinner."
"So do I. And I'm sure she's strong enough to ignore whatever he says – but, you know. It's convenient they were the only two to hear what he said first hand." She moved restlessly. "I worry. He's very charming, according to Ambassador Perrault, and when I spoke to him in the dungeons – he's very persuasive. And it's… understandably upsetting for her."
Kristoff nodded.
"What a jerk."
Elsa nodded grimly. "You can say that again. She hasn't said anything about it to me. Has she to you?"
Kristoff made a strange, jolting movement with his head. "No. I didn't want to – I don't think she – I don't want her to – "
Elsa nodded; understood. "Me neither."
Quiet.
Kristoff hesitated. He seemed on the verge of asking something – but thought better of it. Elsa could tell questions bubbled within him.
She considered for a moment. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, she walked to her desk and retrieved the letter from Hans' mother (it hadn't been more than five feet from her since it arrived – she'd read it over and over and over).
When she turned around, Kristoff had scrambled to his feet. She held out the letter.
"Here. Obviously it's not something I want shared with the general public, but – I trust you Kristoff. And actually…" It still killed her to ask for support. From anyone. "I could use your advice about it."
To her surprise, Kristoff looked down and away.
"Oh – no, it's ok, I don't think – "
"Kristoff, please. Objective third parties are always welcome. Especially third parties as down-to-earth as you."
He was fidgeting.
"Who's this letter from?"
"Queen Agnes of the Southern Isles."
Yeah… he wouldn't be able to read that.
Kristoff silently cursed.
Missing this inner catastrophising, Elsa handed him the letter. He tried not to melt into the floor and looked at the first line.
There were a few of the words he could read – to, her, Elsa, of, Arendelle – good enough. Next.
I thank you for your letter. It was most
Still ok. He had the gist. Next.
I am… you have put us in a… I… am… by… your… of… I… my… send-ing him to…
Even scanning through there were very, very few words that weren't pronouns or very phonetic verbs that he could read. And none of them were particularly helpful.
He tipped his head back and looked up, one hand clutching the letter and the other balled at his side. He took a breath.
"I can't read this."
Elsa was confused – and not entirely sure what he meant, or why he wouldn't meet her eye. "What do you mean?"
"I… can't read this. I can read. Obviously, I can read, but – not these words, they're – big – "
Perhaps he could change his name, grow a beard and disappear into the mountains, and this would never be spoken of again.
"You can't… read?"
"I can read," he flushed furiously. "Just not… very well. Basic stuff. I can read runes great," he added rather lamely. "Trolls are… big on runes."
He waited to be laughed out of the castle. God, this was not where he belonged –
"Kristoff, you should have said," Elsa looked at the man before her who stared determinedly at the opposite wall, who, for all his bulk, shame had cowed into a child – and she felt a warmth rise within her. A kind of… solidarity. For the past thirteen years, shame had been her constant companion. "It's all right, Kristoff."
He suddenly looked at her and blinked.
"Though, do you not need… how did you write those reports for me last month?"
"I can write well enough to keep track of exports," he mumbled. "And I'm teaching myself reading. But there's a guy at the guildhouse who writes. I just… told him what to put."
"And the job description? I'm so sorry, I didn't think – I should have had someone read it to you – "
"Anna did," he was still mumbling. "But she doesn't know – please, your majesty, she can't know – "
"Just Elsa, please. Kristoff, you know she'd jump at the chance to teach you something," the queen laughed. "I can almost hear her enthusiasm already!"
"Nonono, please," he looked at her, face and form still holding the vestiges of humiliation. "She can't know. She'd think I'm…" He trailed off.
Without thinking, really, Elsa leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm.
He was a man of few words: he understood. He thanked her with a smile of sheepish relief.
"Do you play chess, Kristoff?"
He looked up in surprise. "Er – no. Not really. I never learnt that either."
And Elsa rose, beckoning him over to the board. "I'm going to teach you."