Three weeks later as the alliance negotiations were in the final stages and peace seemed attainable, everything changed. Once again the past was refusing to stay where it had been consigned and this time two events came roaring back into the present with a vengeance.
This time one of the events is three years in the past. The ship bearing the King and Queen of Arendelle on its way back from the treaty signing at Oslo was being beset with one of the worst storms seen in the Norwegian Sea in a hundred years. The captain valiantly tried to steer his ship to safety between the towering waves, but finally in desperation as his men were being worn to the bone asked for volunteers from the royal party to lend assistance or all would be lost.
King Artur instantly volunteered along with his personal servant Jon and several others. Queen Idunn was too overcome with seasickness and stayed below with her equally sick ladies. It was a competition between the women as to whom would beat whom to using the pot.
About an hour later the seas had not calmed any, if anything they were worse, and the royal-party's priest had just finished given everyone confessional so they might go to God with pure hearts. Queen Idunn found that she could no longer stand the smell below decks from the overflowing chamber pots and decided if she had to throw-up that she would do it topside and be beside her husband when she died.
She staggered out onto the deck and wrapped her arms around a mast as the ship pitched and heaved and she found that she did indeed have more to throw-up just when she had thought she had no more to lose. It was then she heard her husband who was up on the steering deck behind and above her to help hold the wheel shout. "It's a rogue wave."
She stared at the tallest wave that she had seen yet. It towered almost four-hundred feet high and unlike the other waves it was bearing down on them from the side. She saw Artur and the steersman valiantly trying to turn the ship to meet it but knew it was too late as the wave blotted out the sky. She threw her hands up in a futile gesture as it hovered there as if held by an unseen hand. Then it broke, plunging down on them and everything vanished in the turmoil of destruction as the wave smashed the ship into hundreds of fragments.
Pieces of the ship were washed up on the Norwegian coast for a month afterwards and some even were found much further south on the shores of Holland in the North Sea. A month later the King and Queen were pronounced deceased by the Bishop and word was sent to Rome. Then Duke Grey, the King's half-brother, was by the King's last will and testament, appointed Regent until Elsa would reach her majority as someone had to run the kingdom for the next three years. Duke Grey was in poor health but managed to hang on until three months before Elsa's coronation. Remember that wreckage as it will soon have major implications for the present.
Another event in the past began forty years before Elsa and Anna were born. The scene is not Arendelle but is a typical country scene where a group of children aged nine to twelve are sitting around a nighttime campfire being entertained by wandering storyteller. He had paid for his meal and room for the night with all the latest news and gossip to their parent's satisfaction and had performed Beowulf for them in its long version where the hero slew both Grendel and Grendel's mother. Now for the children since it was all Hallows Eve or Halloween he was spinning the typical stories that children always like to hear at that time of year.
He'd just finished with a favorite that would be passed down in folklore to ages of children unborn. "And then Fanden the Fiend stamped his cloven hoof and said. 'So you don't believe I have the power to put myself in a nutshell do you?' And the young man just scornfully shook his head. 'I'll show you!' Fanden screamed and in an instant he was inside the nutshell. And in that moment while his powers were occupied, the young man grabbed the treasure and fled, leaving the howls of the tricked Fiend dying in the distance behind him."
The children all howled with laughter as this was one of their favorite stories. Fanden was always so gullible. But one brown-haired boy of about ten did not laugh. His companion a blond-haired young miss of about eleven noticed and asked. "Shel, why aren't you enjoying the story? Everyone else is."
"Because it's not scary, Trud." He declared. "Fanden is so stupid that he always loses. What type of story is that for Hallows Eve?" The other children unanimously shushed him and called for another Fanden story.
When he again insisted on commenting negatively on it the other children turned their wrath on him. He was obviously not a favorite as they called him names like 'four-eyes' because he wore glasses, 'vulture' because of his hawk-like nose and negative attitude, 'fool' because he was so clumsy, always falling over his own feet, and 'Midas's boy' because he was a merchant's son obsessed with earning money and he was being trained to follow his father in the trading business.
Finally crying in rage he turned away from the fire and fled into the night. Only the girl Trud followed him after telling the others. "Just because your fathers are members of the nobility doesn't mean you have a right to be rude."
"Well, your father is the Duke so I guess you can feel free to go sit your royal carcass in a tree with vulture beak." One retorted. The others wisely shushed him as her father was indeed the Duke and had a terrible temper.
She found him sitting on a log cursing and nearly crying. She sat herself by him and took his hand. He looked over at her with red eyes. "Why are you even here, Trud? You can do so much better than me. I can't dance, I can't sing, I can't tell stories, I'm a clumsy fool, and I'm only a merchant's boy, a strutting pretender to being noble."
"I'm here because I'm your friend." She said as she squeezed his hand.
"Then you've made a poor choice in friends."
She shook her head. "No. The others have."
He came to his feet and faced her. "Trud, I swear someday that everyone will look up to me and no longer laugh. If only there was a magic ring or something. I would use it to put down those bullies."
"You'll put them down by being so much better than them. I know you will." She firmly declared with love for him in her eyes.
"Trud, my daughter, where are you?" A voice called out of the darkness. They looked up as a black-bearded richly dressed and heavy-set man stepped into the clearing. From his breath it was obvious he'd been drinking. He angrily grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't want you associating with this merchant's leavings?"
"Sir, we were just talking." Shel protested.
Her father shook his free fist in the boy's face. "I catch you again with her, son of a female dog, I'll have you whipped. Is that clear enough?"
"Daddy, Shel's my friend." Trud protested.
In response he raised his hand to strike her and Shel said with courage and quiet menace. "Don't hurt her or the chickens will dance on your grave."
This was an old saying whose origin was lost in time. It was an ultimate insult for it implied he'd be buried so disrespectfully in a shallow grave without a coffin that the chickens would feast on the grave worms growing in his corpse.
With a cry of rage the Duke struck the boy and dragged his crying and protesting daughter away. The last thing Shel heard as he staggered back to his feet was the other children's taunts as they rejoined their noble parents.
"You know." A voice said to him out of the darkness. "That you're right. Fanden the Fiend as we tell the stories today is a joke. Before the priests came with their crucified god he was a terrible thing to face. I can only tell these stories with the priests' approval because I leave out the parts where Fanden turns the tables on his tormentors." A man stepped up beside him. It was the old storyteller.
"You want to know one of the original endings?" He didn't wait but continued. "As soon as Fanden was in the nutshell he heard the young man reach for his treasure and he burst forth in all his fiery splendor and shouted. 'So you would win by dishonesty and theft? You have chosen your own punishment.' And Fanden gestured and the young man vanished into the nutshell which Fanden cast disdainfully amongst the rooting wild hogs and thus was the fool served for his dishonesty and thievery."
The boy dabbed at his bleeding nose and smiled unseen in the darkness. "I would like that Fanden. It's too bad he's no longer around."
"Who says he's not? People just can't see him because they don't look for him in the right places. The Dark man, the Beastial One, or the Dark One as he's sometimes called, always prefers the dark beneath the earth to the bright light of day but once he was powerful enough to walk wherever he pleased. If you want to seek him, then go to his cave in the West Mountain and call his name if you dare." He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now, you see how scary I can be on All-Hallows Eve." He laughed darkly as he walked away.
Five years later the young man named Shel was caught by the Duke trying to see his friend Trud. For his presumptions he was beaten, tarred and feathered and ridden out of town on a rail by the Duke's men.
"Try to see her again, boy, and I'll see the chickens dance all over you!" The Duke shouted from his window.
Trud flew at him crying and beat her fists ineffectively against his barrel chest. "Stop this, Daddy. I love him."
"You're insane!" The Duke screamed and struck her so hard that she fell to the floor bleeding.
She looked up at him with pure hatred as blood poured from her smashed lips. "When the chickens dance on your grave, then everyone will dance with them." He raised a fist in response and then just turned his back on her as if she meant nothing to him but she did as he could marry her off to cement an alliance and be rid of her.
On that night the young man, Shel, swore vengeance on his tormentors, especially the Duke, and after he'd recovered enough he went to the West Mountain in search of Fanden the Fiend.
Mountains don't have a lot of caves in Norway as they are mostly granite uplifts and not limestone and the few caves that exist are very hard to find. But in this case the occupant of one of them wanted to be found.
Shel was sitting on a boulder in the middle of a dry streambed wiping the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief when the rock wall facing him shimmered and vanished to reveal a black hole penetrating deep into the mountain. As he stood up, staring in apprehension at it, a deep, echoing voice rasped out. "Come in, boy." There was a long pause and then a sigh from someone who'd been disappointed too often for far too long. "Or just go away like all the others before you have done so."
Shel stepped up to the entrance. "Are you Fanden the Fiend?"
"I have many names. I am the Dark Man, the Walker in the in-between, the Devourer, and many more. Surtr, the king of the fire giants, is my brother and the Great Serpent is my mother. Once I ruled all these lands. But now?" There was silence.
"Then you are powerless to help me." Shel started to turn away.
"I did not say that, boy. The priests have cut me off from my former worshippers but I still have enough powers to aid you in fulfilling your dreams. However, I require a boon in return. A boon which will return me to my former greatness."
Shel tensed. "And what is that? Do you need sacrifices of souls?"
"Don't speak to me of souls. Despite the lies spread by the priests I never had a thing to do with stealing souls nor do I want them. I'm not one of those stupid beings like Grendel that derives his strength from murder or soul eating. What I've observed is that a hundred years ago the female elves or Dis as you call them broke with long-held traditions and joined with human mates and as a result humans with magic coursing through them are being born every day in the present age."
"Since they are humans and not elves this makes their power vulnerable and being a creature of magic I can interact with their powers and suck them dry, thus increasing my own powers. At a certain point if I can gain enough power then I'll be restored to my former glory. In our deal I'll see that you get to be the Duke, a successful merchant, and gain the hand of the girl you desire. In turn I will identify those who carry the magic and you will bring them to me or leave them in a place that I can approach at night to suck them dry. Do we have a deal?"
"Will this sucking of their magic kill them?"
"Boy, I'm not a murderer. They will be what they should've been, alive and human."
Shel nodded feeling relieved. "In order to seal this bargain do I need to sign over my soul or give you a cup of my blood when I sign our contract?"
"Don't be disgusting. Blood has no special power, I have no use for souls, and I don't deal in contracts like the Christian Devil. Swear by Surtr's name and his magic will bind us. Now do we have a deal?"
"Yes. By Surtr's name we do."
And so it began. Weselton would never be the same again. The chickens did dance on the former Duke's grave and like Trud had declared a lot of others danced too. Trud and Shel did marry and Shel, the clumsy merchant's son, did become the Duke and the influx of magic fed the growing strength of the Fiend under the mountain.
And Weselton prospered as Shel despite seeming a fool was an astute business man and the economy flourished, schools and hospitals were built, and the people had happy well-fed families and were prosperous. The only ones unhappy were the ones who fed him their magic and even some of them were glad to give up the powers that had tormented them and were glad to just be normal
Then one night there was a terrible storm where lightning crawled across the sky and thunder rolled and echoed from the hills. People were thrown from their beds as the ground shook and ran outside to see what was happening. They saw the storm was all concentrated on the West Mountain whose peak was struck repeatedly by jagged bolts of lightning and the thunder became one continuous sound. Abruptly, the storm just ended and there was quiet. The people went to their beds and in the morning everything seemed unchanged.
The Duke of Weselton and his Duchess were overseeing the care of those who'd suffered injury in the storm when a grey column of smoke sprang up almost at their feet and an ominous voice declared. "Meet me at my cave at once, servant."
"I'll be there as soon as we finish up here." The Duke replied, holding a whimpering girl child while Trud bandaged her cut leg.
"Now, you fool! Now! Unless you want to burn!" The voice shouted and the column of grey smoked dissipated.
"Shel, was that the Fiend?" Trud asked as she comforted the crying child. "He sounds different, angrier, and more arrogant."
Shel gulped. "What he sounds like is mad. Take care of everyone who is hurt and I'll see what he wants."
He was gone almost a day and when he returned he was ashen faced and trembling and practically fell into his own chair. Trud asked him what had happened and he replied. "The Fiend is altering the bargain. Now he wants not only magic but he wants death and he declares we have no power to stop him as last night he began his ascent to his godhood." He put his face in his hands. "Oh, Trud, what have I done to us?"
"We can resist him and refuse his demanded blood tithe." She declared.
"How can we resist him? He has made sure there's no-one here in Weselton that has the strength to fight him. He says he'll bathe our town in blood if we don't cooperate." He looked at her with pain in his eyes. "The Fiend declared that I would be the last to die and just before that I would see you and the children torn to bloody pieces before my eyes if I refused him. Oh, Trud, I have sold us all to hell. What will we do?"
She held him until he was done weeping. "We will resist as we would any invader who was stronger than us, but one day we'll cast him down." He reluctantly nodded as there was nothing more that they could do.
Unfortunately she didn't live long enough to see that day come and the Duke without her support became more and more a creature of the Fiend that he served.
Time passed and it was now six years before the present and the Duke was called in once more to see his dark partner. The unseen figure in the cave came right to the point. "Have you heard the prophecy by the rock trolls on the coming of the Snow Queen?"
The Duke of Weselton who was more the man we are all familiar with frowned. "No I haven't. Is it as important as dancing properly?" He tried to demonstrate the same move he would later with Anna and fell flat on his face. He scrambled to his feet, stepped on his coattails and went down again, sending his glasses flying.
The voice laughed hideously. "Ha, ha, ha, ha. I think I keep you alive because you amuse me, you pretentious, old fool." Then all humor dark or otherwise vanished. "However, this Snow Queen is no laughing matter for when she comes fully into her powers she will have the potential using her glory to defeat me. Her mother will be a sorceress called the Ice Queen. Unfortunately prophecy is not clear as to when the Ice Queen will be born and where. I have searched for magical signs of her and have found nothing. Tell your agents they will be richly rewarded if they slay this Ice Queen before she can create this evil offspring. Is this clear?"
"Milord, are you certain you want her killed? I'm sure I could find a way to capture this sorceress and bring her to you for you to use as you want."
There was a roar and the ground shook, driving the middle-aged man to his shaking knees. "Never question my orders again, you simpleton, unless you want to see your family suffer."
The Duke abased himself, quivering with fear. "Please don't hurt them. I'll do as you say."
"Your groveling pleases me. Now go and do it or find out what real suffering really is."
The Duke turned and ran down the mountain, tripping over a rock and rolling all the way to the bottom. The Fiend in its cave chortled. "What a delightful idiot he is. I'll consume him last."
It is now five months before the present and Elsa's coronation is in full swing. The Duke is attending with his granddaughter Audhild and has no idea that Garandpeppy's prophecy is beginning to be fulfilled. His first clue is the ice blast that Elsa unleashes in her frustration with Anna. Seeing this he remembered the Fiend called the Ice Queen a sorceress. This is why he calls it sorcery and is so desperate to stop Elsa as she flees the palace. He will later employ his soldiers to try and assassinate her to do the bidding of the Fiend.
Once on the North Mountain and out of the castle stonewalls which have hidden her for nearly fifteen years Elsa pronounces. "Well, now they know!" And she lets the powers go.
In his cave on the West Mountain the Fiend comes fully aware that the Ice Queen is there on the North Mountain as she is lighting up all his magical senses, but he can only curse as he's not strong enough to fight her outside of Weselton. He has to rely on the Duke and his two soldiers and his rage is terrible to behold when the three fail. After they return the two soldiers are consumed with screams and the Duke is forced to listen to them as they die
Grandpeppy had told Elsa that fear would be her biggest enemy. The old troll was covering a lot of ground with this prophecy. Elsa had come to realize that he'd been referring to not only fear of her by other people but her own fears as well. She did not know there was a third one, the fear of the Fiend that her daughter, the Snow Queen, would destroy him if it did not kill Elsa before she was born.
The intrusion from the past into the present which is now going to change everything begins innocently enough six weeks before the present out on the North Sea. The Dutch fishing boat had been blown well-off course off the coast of Holland by a late-fall storm. In fact it had almost been driven on the rocks which guarded the Dutch barrier islands, home to mostly seagulls, sand dunes, and pine trees too stunted to make good wood for building ships. For this reason most captains kept well out of this region as there was nothing to be gained by landing on these islands and the barrier rocks would most likely tear the bottoms out of their ships if they got too close. A few crazed hermits and monks had tried to take up domicile there but none had lasted more than three years as the islands were always being rearranged by the terrible winter storms coming off the North Sea.
Thus, the captain of the fishing boat was astonished to hear the sound of a pistol shot from the island in front of him and see a puff of powder smoke rising in the air from the beach. He put his eye to his telescope and as a second shot rang out, he got his bearings and focused on a section of the beach where a rock jutted out of the sand. In the glass he saw a ragged figure raising a pistol in the air. He saw the flash of fire from it and then a moment later heard the report.
Several of his crew had gathered at the rail and all were pointing towards the beach. He lowered the glass and eyed the currents. "Give me a depth sounding."
When the report came back he knew that he had enough depth to stably anchor here as the tide was just slacking from its full run. He had a narrow window but if he was quick he could get a boat ashore and back with their castaway. "I need four volunteers to man the skiff and rescue our friend."
He had to choose his four from amongst all of them. Ten minutes later the skiff was on the beach and he saw only one figure running to meet the rescuers. He eyed the currents again and noted the tide was turning back. "Don't dawdle." He muttered. "I can't wait more than twenty minutes more."
The castaway turned and picked up a ragged valise from the ground and then continued on to meet the party. This one had been well prepared to seize his lone opportunity. His estimate of the intelligence of this lone man went up quite a bit. Then the skiff was back in the water and with the tide running out was brought almost too quickly alongside. Ropes were cast out from the pulleys, quickly tied off to rings on the skiff, and the rest of the crew hoisted the skiff back out of the grasp of the surging waves.
He turned and gave the orders to get his ship out of the reach of the hungry rocks below. It was only when he was sure that they were finally safe that he went to see whom they'd rescued. When he was told who it was, he knew the Dutch King had to be informed immediately.
Several days later King Lars Erikson of the Southern Isles was pondering the latest batch of intelligence reports on the disturbing moves that his sources informed him were being planned by the Duke of Weselton against Queen Elsa. The reports were sketchy as Weselton had one of the best security forces in the area and kept sweeping up his spies.
This had forced him to rely on information gathered from the handful of people who did come and go from Weselton such as merchants like Wandering Oaken. As a result he knew a lot less about the place than he really wanted to. His wizards said there was a dark and very strong magical presence in Weselton which was blocking their probes and very likely detecting and sweeping up his spies.
Now the merchants were reporting that the Duke had apparently gotten his hands on some ancient sorcery that he was going to use against Elsa. The Duke had called her a sorceress but he was willing to use sorcery against her. So what did that make him, besides a hypocrite? Obviously, a dangerous madman.
The man either had to be completely demented as he didn't seem to care that if he attacked Elsa that he would have the Southern Isles and their wizards to fight too or he was crafty like a fox and he had some secret force backing him up which would then fall on both of them. In fact his sources said that the Duke was actually looking forward to his revenge. His behavior at the coronation dance and afterwards had indicated he was demented and a fool, but had all that just been for show? Was all this the first move by a master player? He hated not being sure.
He decided that it was well-past time for a change of rulers in Weselton. The Duke had a couple of granddaughters who were much more reasonable than he would ever be. Maybe it was time for a Duchess to be in charge. He made a note to himself to look closer at them. But there was still the problem of…
His train of thought was derailed by the intrusion of a messenger. He flashed the man an angry look. "Unless it's important you know I never want to be disturbed right now." His expression softened when he saw it was no ordinary messenger but his first born. He sighed. Karl never interrupted him unless it was important. "What is it, son?"
Prince Karl glanced at the stacks of reports. He picked up the one from Arendelle and shook his head in an abrupt motion of dismissal as he dropped it in the wastebasket. "I think a lot of this one just became irrelevant, Father."
King Lars leaned back. "How so?"
"A Dutch warship just came into the harbor and they have a most interesting passenger. They aren't staying long except to observe formalities as they are in our sea lanes but they are escorting a once-lost member of the Arendelle royalty who apparently wants to get home as fast as possible. He chuckled drily. "They just brought the apple with them that is going to upset the whole cart."
A few minutes later when King Lars met the Dutch ambassador and the person he was escorting he had to totally agree. Not only was the apple cart upset; it had been smashed into pieces in the process.
Hours later he watched the Dutch ship sail north. Now this was going to get interesting. Not only was law and precedent unclear on this, but so was common sense. He would bet anything that that little weasel in Weselton would seize on this stroke of fortune which would throw chaos into the ranks of his adversaries and might even move up his invasion schedule. He grinned. When the players started going wild on the game board, then there was opportunity for the quick kill if you were bold enough to take it.
Fortunately his spymaster and intelligence analyst had just delivered a new report for him on all the events that had happened in Arendelle in the last few months and a lot of it involved the Duke and his attempts to murder their queen.
He saw that the name of the granddaughter who'd accompanied that old fool to the coronation in Arendelle was Audhild. His sources reported that she'd sat beside her grandfather in the church during the coronation ceremony.
They also said that she'd volunteered to give supplies from their ship and their trading house in Arendelle to help to keep the people warm when the cold had descended on them. This had not endeared her to her grandfather who'd gone into a rage over this wasting of valuable, tradable goods. She was then ordered confined to her quarters on their ship.
Later when informed that her grandfather had ordered his men to kill Elsa his sources from inside the guard at Arendelle who'd been assigned to the docks reported that she'd gone into her own rage on the ship as it was making ready to sail and it had been a beautiful tongue lashing.
What really struck his interests was her accusation that reportedly she'd shouted just before the old man had shut the door. "Grandfather, this has to stop! We can no longer continue to serve the Fiend. For our honor and for the salvation of your very soul, this must end."
The guard source reported that the old man had turned and said sadly. "It was too late for me years ago, granddaughter, and now I must play my role in serving Fanden to the bitter end."
Interesting. This seemed to confirm everything. Apparently Fanden the Fiend was the true power behind the throne and was so powerful now that even wizards were helpless against him. This revelation made him even more worried. The Fiend was another name for a true demon who had plagued Scandinavia for centuries before Christianity had come and the priests had decreed Fanden was just another form of their God's adversary. If this was who they were facing in Weselton, then they were going to need all the help he could stir up.
His other sources in Arendelle in the castle staff reported that once the granddaughter got back home she'd sent letters immediately to both Anna and Elsa apologizing for her grandfather's despicable behavior and begging their forgiveness that she'd been unable to stop him. She'd also hinted that it would not be safe for anyone who possessed magic to ever set foot in Weselton.
He smiled. Audhild was a name which meant fortune in battle. A very auspicious name for a young lady who if he had anything to say about it would be the next Duchess of Weselton. He summoned the woman who was the coordinator of his spy network and started making arrangements to have one of the merchants discretely contact Audhild.
After the woman had left to carry out his instructions he then went to consult with Prince Karl on what material aid they could send any rebellion that he suspected would be brewing there because it had been nearly four months since Arendelle and the Southern Isles had cut all trade off with Weselton and its effects should be being felt strongly right now. In fact the people there should be starting to starve and that was another lever he could use against this so-called Dark One. The chess pieces were finally clearly revealed and it was time to play.
Out on the Norwegian Sea the Dutch ship cut through the waves sending up sprays of foam. The tall man and his cloaked companion stood at the bow as if they could pierce the miles with their eyes and see Arendelle which was still days away. The sailors took notice and after a while as they worked they began to sing the song Coming Home to You:
"Once I had the yearning to roam,
And I left my young girls at home.
Now I've seen the wide earth,
But to me it has little worth.
I'd trade off all the sights
Just to know they're all right
And to hold them both in my arms.
I swear to protect them from all harm,
And never to leave them again,
No matter how great the pain.
Home, home, I'm coming back home.
Home, home, from there never to roam."
The two stood at the bow until darkness fell.
Five days later the Dutch ship dropped anchor in a very familiar harbor and a tall regal-looking man with a companion wearing a grey cloak with the hood pulled up left the ship and headed directly to the castle gates through the light snow.
As usual Kai met the unexpected guests at the door to the castle. This time he turned white, staggered, and then went to his knees. "Your, Your Majesty."
"It's good to see you again too, Kai. Forgive my voice as I am raspy from a cold. The Dutch Ambassador and I need to see my daughters at once. Are they here?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. They are in Queen Elsa's apartments planning a picnic with their betrotheds whom I believe are awaiting them there. Shall I go and inform them that you're here?"
"No, Kai. It's been three years and as soon as I was rescued I rushed back here to be home with them. Just lead the way but don't announce me." The tall man and his cloaked companion followed Kai down the hall.
Kai had sworn he'd never drink again. It looked tonight like he'd be perilously close to breaking that promise and so would a lot of the other servants when they found out who was back.
Elsa and Anna were not in the meeting room inside Elsa's apartments as Anna was back in the bedroom trying on different dresses and getting her sister's opinion. She still hadn't found one as good as the one she'd bought at Oaken's store but she wanted something different to wear to the picnic. Clothing choices for warmth while picnicking in the snow were no problem when you can control the temperature like Elsa can. However, the available clothing gave her little choice between styles as Norwegian winter wear was for the most part very practical and boring.
In the meeting room Georg in his fire form was playing a game of tag with Olaf and Rufina with snow balls and fireballs being the weapons of choice. Kristof and Sven had begged off and had just left to get the sleigh ready. The other three were piled up in a rugby-type scrum in the center of the floor when the unexpected guests arrived as Kai opened the door.
"Interesting." A raspy voice declared. "Who are you people?"
They looked up to see the tall, regal man and his cloaked companion standing in the doorway. The tall man sniffed as if to say what did I expect? Recognizing the Dutch ambassador by his choice of clothing and other things, Georg immediately snuffed out his flames and came to his feet, followed by Olaf and Rufina. He wasn't sure who the other was but from Kai's expression they were someone very important and he made shushing motions to Olaf and the daughter of his heart.
"Are you one of the betrotheds, young man?" The raspy voice asked, obviously aiming the question at Georg.
Olaf who never took well to being shushed answered before Georg could reply. "I'm one of the betrotheds."
"What!?" Both figures stared at him. "You're a snowman. Are you really engaged to Elsa?"
He laughed and then said. "Oh, don't be silly. Elsa's practically my mother. I'm engaged to Rufina." He held out his stick hand to the firewoman who took it and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek in a hiss of melting snow.
"Thank goodness." The raspy voice sounded greatly relieved. "For a moment there I was afraid that Elsa had completely lost her mind.
Olaf frowned. He wasn't sure but he thought he might just have been insulted.
The raspy voice asked. "So, which one of the princesses are you betrothed to, young man?" This time the emphasis was firmly on the word man.
Georg who had found that his diplomatic training had been just enough to help him keep a straight face during Olaf's antics stepped forward. "I have the honor to be betrothed to Queen Elsa. I am Earl Georg formerly of the Southern Isles." He made a diplomatic bow, not too deep or too shallow. It was used when an ambassador was dealing with an important personage of unknown worth. "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
Before a reply could be made Elsa and Anna entered the meeting room. Anna was still tugging at the fit of her new brown skirt when Elsa laid a hand on her shoulder and stopped her. "Kai, who are these people?" She asked with a frown unconsciously echoing the question just asked a minute before by the raspy voice with similar faint intonations. Anna looked up and paused. Something was nagging at her memory.
The concealed figure gasped, stepped forward and with trembling hands opened the cloak and flipped the hood back. "Oh, my darling girls. You don't know how long I've prayed for this very day." The raspy voice shook with emotion.
The figure was revealed to be a woman of Anna's height with white and black streaked hair bound in two pigtails which fell below her shoulders. Her facial features had something from both Anna and Elsa in them and her eyes were like theirs, alive and commanding, and at that moment tears were starting from their corners. She was wearing a black dress of mourning and black gloves and on her head was a golden diadem just like the one Elsa had been presented with at her coronation.
Olaf breathed out. "You look just like both Anna and Elsa. But older, much older, and much more..."
Rufina put a fiery hand on his shoulder and shook her head at him as this was not the time for his levity.
Elsa gasped and felt Anna grab her hands at almost the same time she reached for Anna's and heard Anna's own gasp of disbelief. On the right-hand wall beside them were pictures of their parents and although this woman was older and more worn, she could've stepped right out of the picture of their mother.
Elsa felt like the whole world had changed before her eyes and that nothing was ever going to be the same again and then she felt all her emotions running wild and knew that for once she didn't care. Beside her Anna's breaths were coming quick and hard as it finally sank in whom she was seeing.
"My darlings, please say something. I am who I look like. I'm Queen Idunn and I'm your…"
She was drowned out by two almost simultaneously shouted incredulous shrieks of. "MOM!"
Then they were both in her arms hugging her, kissing her and crying. For a long moment their mother tried to keep the calm reserve that she'd always displayed to them and then her reserve shattered. She hugged them back and she was crying too as she sobbed out. "Oh my girls, my beloved girls, I missed you so much." Then she kissed each one in turn on their cheeks or foreheads. All three sank together to the floor as they held each other and cried uncontrollably. Unbelievably the sea had given back part of what it had stolen from all three of them and the past was once more in the present.