I said this at the end of the previous chapter, but I'm going to repeat it here because no one reads the end notes. I DO NOT AND WILL NOT TAKE DICTATION. The plot and the ending of the story are already decided. I appreciate feedback on how to improve my writing style and characterizations, but it's not going to change the direction I'm going with the characters. The end.

Chapter 13: The Northwestern Isle

That same morning, a few miles to the west, Hans awoke with a mighty pain in his side. When he peeked out of the mass of blankets he found that he was laying on the hard, splintery wooden floor. How he had gotten there he didn't know. Rubbing his side and groaning as he sat up, he peered to his left and saw the sunlight shining angelically on Elsa, who was laying spread-eagle on one of the bunks snoring like a freight train. He couldn't help but chuckle. He shuffled across the floor on his knees, blankets still around him, and poked her in the shin. She let out a snort.

"Your majesty…" he whispered apprehensively. In response, she tossed herself over to face the other direction. He poked her again in the calf. "Your majesty," he repeated.

She let out a dry, sleepy gasp followed by a long, airy squeal. "What?!"

"We should get going."

She stretched her arms above her head and let out a high pitched, "Nooooo..."

"No?"

"No," she corrected, sitting up.

"No we shouldn't get going? Should I go back to sleep then?" he asked.

"No!" she repeated, "I meant no, we shouldn't not get going. I was just making my stretching noise."

"Your stretching noise?" he laughed.

"Yes. 'Noooo.' It's my stretching noise."

Hans didn't know that such a thing existed or what purpose it served. "Okay then," he noted with a smirk, "You have something on your mouth, by the way."

She brought her hand to the corner of her mouth where something wet was inching it's way down. She blushed and turned away as she wiped it off. Hans snickered, stood up, and searched the room for more supplies. Elsa peered at him to make sure he wasn't watching before inspecting the damage that had come to her hair. She unpinned what was left of her crown of braids, ran them through her fingers, and began to braid it again to the side until Hans interrupted her.

"You should leave your hair down," he uttered.

"Huh?" She glanced up to find him gazing at her.

He shrugged. "It-It looks nice that way."

She observed her wavy blond locks, surprised at the compliment and unsure whether to receive it or not. She sighed before finishing the braid. "It's easier to manage like this."

"Oh...hmm.." he responded in assent with a nod.

She couldn't decipher what his motive was in it, so she gave up and instead assisted him in gathering more useful items for the rest of their journey. Upon finding herself in an empty room she looked at her reflection in a dingy window and shuddered at her ripped, grime-cloaked dress. Sorry Miss Pedersen, she thought. It needed to be replaced, but for some reason it was harder for her in that particular moment to choose a design. Should she wear something sedate and traditional or something a little more regal? She wanted it to be elegant, but not too flashy. She finally decided to go with something traditional, but with a splash of color. Blue? No, green? No, somewhere in between the two? And what about the neckline? A high or a low one? A lower one. But not too low. With three-quarter length sleeves. And flowers? Maybe a few…

"Queen Elsa?" Hans called.

"Um...just a minute!" she responded. She peered again at her reflection. It would have to do. But why did it matter? She decided to add a small finishing touch: a silver chain with a ice-jeweled snowflake pendant.

She made her way back into the other room, straightening a few wrinkles, where Hans was shuffling around holding a few sacks. "Have you seen Olaf and Eli-" he trailed off when he pivoted around to see her.

She blushed and gazed at his expression with trepidation. "Um...I just thought I should-Is it too much?"

"Uh…" he began, "No, it's...fine."

"You hesitated," Olaf interrupted, peeping through the doorway.

Hans' mouth gaped open at him. "No, I mean it. She looks beautiful. I mean pretty. I mean..." Elsa blushed and Hans did as well, scratching his beard before running his fingers through his hair, "I mean...it's nice."

Elsa laughed. "Thank you."

Hans smiled in embarrassment and examined his own atrocious appearance. His coat and pants were torn and covered in mud "Uh…I'm going to change too." He ran from the room carrying all the sacks draped over his shoulder.

It seemed like forever before he returned with a clean shirt, vest and coat, a grey scarf, and black pants. The coat was a little too tight and the pants a little too loose, but it was the neatest thing he could find. His boots were still heinously dirty, but they fit.

As the sun rose higher, the air grew slightly warmer, so Elsa lined more blankets with ice and wrapped them around Olaf Eliana before they mounted Sitron and made their way to shore.

"How are we going to find our way to Reykjaford now without Gunnwald?" Elsa asked as they rode in the opposite direction of the sunrise.

"I know that it's somewhere on the southeastern coast. So we won't be far from it when we arrive."

"That's very vague," Elsa spouted.

"We'll ask for directions."

They arrived on an abandoned dock with only a few turf-covered houses dotting the hills in the distance. To the south was a quaint fishing village a bit smaller than Kubbergrove. It was surrounded by green hills set at the foot of snowcapped mountains, and...Hans hadn't lied. The sand was black.

"Look!" Hans exclaimed, pointing north.

"What?" she squinted behind them but wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking for.

"See the smoke?" Sure enough, there was a grey cloud hovering over a black mountain that stood separate from the others, tall and magnificent.

"Mt. Eldurogis," Hans informed, "Isn't she a beauty?" Elsa had to admit it. It was rather impressive. "I never thought I'd get to see it in person," he ranted, "It's even more amazing than the landscapes I've seen in Lars' books." He sighed. "And it's supposed to have some kind of magic."

"What kind of magic?"

"It didn't say. Maybe you throw a coin in and it grants you a wish," he chuckled, "What would you wish for?"

"That my sister is safe," Elsa answered without hesitation.

"Oh yeah. I shouldn't have asked."

"What about you? What would you wish for?"

"I guess," he started, pondering for a moment, "I don't know. There are lots of things I would wish for." Elsa was about to ask if ruling a kingdom was one of them, but she resisted. "But did you know that it erupts at the same exact time every three years?" he continued, "Without fail."

"What year are we on now?" Elsa asked.

"Actually, I don't know…"

"And on what day?"

"I'm-I'm not sure…" Hans felt rather sheepish.

"Hopefully not any time soon."

"I highly doubt it," he assured her, "What are the odds that it would erupt now? One in-what, over a thousand?"

There was quite a bit of hustle and bustle as they arrived in the harbor. Elsa covered her nose as men shouted and passed along crates and barrels of fish. They quickly arrived at a market where shoppers had arrived bright and early to snatch up the most flawless, freshest specimen for that night's family meal. Fish merchants shoved various items in the villagers' faces as they carefully examined them and exchanged offers. It was a sight Elsa found very intriguing and entertaining.

"Only ten pieces for this mighty guy!" someone shouted in Elsa's ear, holding an enormous brown trout in front of her nose, "Freshly caught only an hour ago!"

"No thank you," Elsa declined with a polite wave of the hand.

"How about eight?" he offered, "Enough to feed you, your husband, and the little ones for a week!"

"He's not my-"

"Can you tell us the best way to get to Reykjaford?" Hans interrupted, stepping in front of Elsa.

"Oh, not from around here, eh?" the merchant observed, putting the heavy fish down, "I'll tell you...but you need to make a purchase first."

"What? That's absurd," Hans retorted.

"I'll tell you what," the man whispered. He glanced slyly to the left, and then to the right before leaning in towards Hans. Hans hesitantly turned his ear towards him. "I'll make you a small exception, but don't tell anyone. I'll give you two of my largest trout for only fifteen pieces and then I'll tell you how to get to Reykjaford. Nobody else will give you an offer like that in a million years."

"But we don't even need one, let alone two!" Hans snapped.

"Then beat it!" the man cried, leaning back and waving them away with the back of his hand.

"But we need directions!" Hans looked around at the rest of the crowd, but no even glanced his way let alone offer help.

"Well I just need to feed a family, and you're wasting my time! Who do you think you are anyways?"

"You see this young woman here?" Hans asked, pointing to Elsa, "This is Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and she has things to do, places to go, and people to see!"

"Hans, don't!" Elsa whispered, putting a finger to her lips, but it was too late. The crowd began to grow silent as they peered at the four of them. And they didn't seem pleased. Hans immediately realized that he had made a mistake.

"Queen Elsa?" the fisherman sneered, "Of Arendelle? Where did you get the gall-" Suddenly a colleague hopped over to him and whispered something in his ear hurriedly, his eyes fixed on Elsa and Hans. Elsa fiddled with her necklace as she felt ice crawl down from her fingertips to her wrists.

"Your majesty," Hans muttered, gently taking her by the elbow, "we should go." The ice on Elsa's hands instantly settled, but she didn't move. She was too curious.

Still peering at Elsa and Hans, the fish merchant stood up straight and smiled as his friend scurried away. "My apologies," he said with a bow, "I was thinking of...someone else." Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Welcome to the Northwestern Isle!" Hans shifted his gaze to the other merchant who was making long strides down the road, glancing back at them occasionally. Once he came close to the intersection, he broke out into a run and turned the corner. Elsa spotted it too.

"It's such an honor to have you here," the merchant exclaimed, "How about we...show you around? The mayor would be very glad to meet you."

"I don't know…" Elsa began.

"What...brings you to Reykjaford?"

"Well-"

"Who are you here to see?"

"That's classified diplomatic business," Hans snapped. Elsa nodded in assent.

"And who are you?" the merchant asked, eyeing Hans.

"Queen Elsa, let's go," Hans urged her.

"Right," she agreed, and they pivoted away, Hans pulling Sitron along. Olaf and Eliana trailed behind discreetly. They traipsed nonchalantly down the lane when behind them they heard a whinny. Hans spun around and spotted three horsemen in blue jackets holding out long swords.

Elsa didn't notice however. Instead she was struck by the half-audible words somewhere to her right, "Are they here to assassinate the queen?"

"Who is trying to assassinate me..." Elsa uttered, searching for the voice.

"I think," Hans said directing her gaze to the angry guards and placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, "that you're the assassin."

"What?!"

"Quick!" Hans shouted. As the guards rode towards them the four of them climbed onto Sitron's back and fled down the cobblestone road. Shoppers cried out and pinned themselves to the merchants' stands, clearing the way for the chase. Hans searched for the narrowest alley he could find and pulled the reins in that direction. Being too tight for all three guards to squeeze through, two of them looked for a detour while the remaining one continued the direct pursuit.

"I don't understand what's going on!" Elsa shouted in Hans' ear.

"I don't think you're very popular here," Hans panted as Sitron made a sharp right. Elsa held on to him more tightly.

"Well, obviously, but why?" Elsa asked, "What did I do?" She suddenly remembered what Gunnwald had said about Queen Mirella. Why did she hate her so much? So much so that all the people of this town hated her too? Or all the people of the Northwestern Isle even?

"You're freezing my coat!" Hans cried.

"Oh, sorry!" Elsa responded, loosening her grip slightly. But when they made their way down the dock where fishermen were unpacking the last of their daily catch, a few dropped their crates in alarm, spilling fish all over the ground. The two horses slipped and slid across the grimy surface and Elsa lost her hold.

"Woah!" she exclaimed, beginning to fall backwards. Hans reached one hand back, grabbed her arm, and wrapped it snuggly around his waist.

"You can freeze me if you want," he laughed, "I deserve it anyways."

Elsa made no answer, but merely clenched her fists so as to lessen the affect. She turned her head slightly to the side and saw out of the corner of her eye that the other two guards were catching up to them. She reached out her free hand and formed an ice rink along the dock. The horses behind them slid to a stop, just barely maintaining their hooves' grip to the ground. The guards tried to urge them forward, but they wouldn't budge. Sitron, nearing the end of the tiny village, turned to the left, climbing a narrow pathway up a hill. Elsa slickened the entire area behind them, and the ice crawled over some turf-covered red-washed houses. The inhabitants burst out their doors, and when they saw Elsa they shouted foreign obscenities, fists in the air with rage.

"Sorry!" she apologized weakly, raising a hand in pardon, and an icicle shot into the air, impaling the barn next door. She slapped her hand to her mouth in humiliation. Returning to repair the damage wasn't an option at this point, so she just hoped with all her might that somehow this wouldn't make them hate her more than they already did.

The fishing town began to disappear in the distance as the dirt road climbed over rolling green hills. But to Elsa's dismay the guards had found another path and were quickly approaching. And this time they had reinforcements.

"Look!" Elsa cried. Sitron halted for a moment as Hans twisted his head around. "Go faster!" Elsa shouted. Hans brandished his sword just in case and urged Sitron to quicken his strides. Elsa formed snowballs and began launching them at them, enlisting the help of Olaf and Eliana. They had surprisingly good aim, especially Eliana.

"Right in the face!" Olaf shouted underneath his disguise, "Well done!"

"Why thank you," Eliana giggled. However, it only made the rider more angry, and the horse ran faster. They approached a long fence and Sitron leaped over it with ease into a field of cabbages. The closest guard bounded after, but the black horse stumbled, launching his owner face first into a pile of mud. The other horses, upon witnessing the event, halted to a stop in fear. Elsa, Hans, Sitron and the snow people escaped the fenced in area just in time, right before the farmer entered the scene. He spotted the guard tumbling over his precious cabbages and he screamed in exasperation, chasing him with a hoe back out the way he came.

"Good job, Sitron!" Elsa cheered, patting the horse's rear. Sitron whinnied with pride.

"Our favorite pastime," Hans explained, "Jumping practice. Good distraction." But then after thinking for a moment, he began, "But it's only a matter of time before they…"

His eye caught on a large rock with an opening and he led Sitron in its direction to explore it. What he expected to be a small cavity became a narrow sloping entry to a cave. Hans slowly dismounted the horse, pulling Elsa and the snow people after. Elsa and Hans glanced over their shoulders in unison to be sure no one was coming and proceeded forward. The cave was lit to some degree up ahead by a dim blue glow.

Hans pulled out a lantern and ignited it with a match. As he did, it revealed a thick layer of icicles covering the walls. They moved forward a few yards and the size of the space increased to about that of a large cathedral. They peered up and above them was a magnificent blue ceiling that seemed as though it was made of the waves of an ocean. It was so high that it reached out of the rocks and towards the sun revealing the source of the illumination. Upon further observation, Elsa started to notice something very peculiar. The ice along the walls was very smooth, symmetrical, and carefully formed. Almost as if…

"You guys..." she began. Olaf and Eliana regarded it too. Hans and Sitron, however, didn't hear her, but were instead gazing at the ceiling in awe. The lantern hung uselessly at Hans side. "Hans!" she shouted.

"What?" he responded.

"Look!" She pointed at the walls which circled the room. Arches formed up the walls and towards the ceiling, coming back down again in thick columns. Each arch was a perfectly equal distance apart and exactly symmetrical. Ahead of them was an entryway leading to a long staircase, and above it, a magnificent balcony. The floor underneath them was thick, smooth and flat. Elsa could feel tears forming in her eyes. She slid around the room, observing everything in sight, twirling as she went. Hans watched her in amusement as he moved casually towards the center of the space. Elsa ran her hands along every surface. Every column, every wall, and every arch, until she ended at the bottom of the staircase. It almost looked like one of the rooms in the palace at Arendelle...

"This is amazing!" she cried, her voice echoing against the walls and the ceiling. Olaf and Eliana waddled about the room, taking everything in as well.

"Yeah," Hans observed, "It's pretty incredible. Whoever made this was really talented." Then peering at her he added, "You're getting...quite emotional over there."

Elsa felt her cheeks and a tear was streaming down each of them. She turned to him and shouted, "Don't you understand what this means?!"

"What? What does it mean?"

"This wasn't carved out with a chisel!" she exclaimed from across the room, motioning to the architecture around them, "This was formed. Like my ice palace. By someone with ice powers."

"Really?" He ran his hand down one of the pillars. "How do you know…?"

"I just know!" she explained, "This means, somewhere out there, there's someone just like me! I'm not the only one!"

"Wow…" he said, looking around him again as Sitron licked one of the columns. His tongue got stuck and he whinnied in frustration. "I never really thought about that possibility before."

"You mean you never once thought about whether there was someone else like me?" She asked disbelievingly, shuffling back over to him. Sitron, with some effort, was able to pull his tongue off the column and did not repeat the previous attempt again.

"Well, I guess maybe it crossed my mind at one point in time. I don't know. I can't remember specifically."

"I wonder every single day of my life."

Hans sighed. "The real question is, why is this here? And where is the owner?"

Suddenly it hit Elsa. She gasped in delight, spun around, and skated towards the staircase again, bounding up them this time. "Hello?" she cried, disappearing from Hans' view. "Anyone here?" He heard some shuffling and some creaking echo from above and after a few moments she appeared on the balcony and leaned over the railing.

"There are rooms up here!" she yelled, pointing behind her. She disappeared again and after a few more seconds she slowly returned and added, "They're empty." She took one more look around before coming down the stairs. She quickly skated across the floor, past Hans, and towards the entrance on skates of her own making. "We have to go find them," she insisted, "Whoever did this, I need to meet them."

"Whoa," Hans interjected, sliding ungracefully towards her and grabbing her arm, "I should remind you that the guards are still out there looking for us. And besides, we need to find Anna first and then we can find your little ice friend."

She gazed at the entrance for a moment and then back at him. She nodded defeatedly and skated back to the center of the room, leaning on one of the columns. She observed Eliana and Olaf doing figure eights in the near distance. She laughed and pushed herself off the column to join in as Sitron tried and failed to mimic their artistry. Hans watched her take hold of Eliana's stick hands and spin her in circles. The snow maiden cried out in glee as Elsa let her hands go and Olaf caught them instead, the momentum sending them both in spirals. Elsa then proceeded to do crossovers along the walls followed by a single toe loop and a one-foot spin in place. Out of breath, Elsa halted and peered at Hans in embarrassment.

"What?" she muttered.

"Nothing, it's just…" he responded, "you're pretty good at that."

She merely scratched the back of her neck bashfully. "You try," she demanded, pointing a finger at him.

"No, I've never-" All of a sudden his feet were moving forward and backward. He looked down and his boots had been converted into skates. He stood up straight to maintain his balance. "No, your majesty, I don't know how."

"Well, then you need to learn how!" she insisted, making her way towards him, "If you're going to be my friend."

Friends? They were friends? As she plowed to a stop in front of him he winced slightly, afraid that somehow she was about to knock him over. He almost lost his balance but she pulled him back just in time. She took both of his hands and slowly dragged him forwards. "Lean forward a bit," she instructed, "and bend your knees slightly." He did so, as best as he could. For someone who considered himself to be an experienced dancer, Hans thought, he was amazingly ungraceful on skates. And Elsa, on the other hand, who claimed not to know how to dance, moved with ease and elegance on the ice.

"It's almost like walking," she continued, "with small heavy steps pushing out from the inside."

He attempted to do what he thought she was talking about, but the result was unfruitful. "I don't get it," he uttered.

"Like this," she said, letting him go. He almost lost his balance but caught himself just in time. She slowly skated in circles around him, emphasising the pressure she placed on the inside edge of each skate one at a time. "See? Easy peasy."

"Oh yeah," he responded, "So easy."

She took his hands again. "Now you try." He nodded and clung to her wrists for dear life as he moved himself forward. "You're going to fall at some point in time," she informed him, "So just accept it.

"Really?" he answered sarcastically, "You don't say…"

"You won't die if you do, though. So don't be afraid."

"But I might get seriously injured," he countered.

"No," Elsa exclaimed with a laugh, "I promise you won't get hurt." She let go of one of his hands and moved to the side, giving him more space as he waddled along. "The faster you move," she pointed out, "the better your balance will be."

Hans didn't see how that made any sense, but he gather up all his courage to try it, and she was surprisingly right. As he moved a little faster, he got more of a feel for the correct way to position himself, and his confidence increased. He laughed as he realized just how enjoyable it was. Together they skated in larger circles at an even faster pace. After a few laps Hans felt more sure of his abilities, and he took Elsa's other hand and spun her in small loops. Elsa laughed with glee.

"How romantic," Eliana sighed as she and the other two watched them from behind a pillar. Olaf snickered and Sitron huffed enviously.

Perhaps Hans was a little too over-confident, however. One wrong move and he felt himself leaning in the wrong direction. He tried in vain to right himself, still gripping Elsa's arms, but he sailed backwards, pulling her down with him in turn. He threw a hand behind him to soften the fall as she landed face first onto his chest.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed in embarrassment. "Are you okay?" She lifted her head slightly and began roaring hysterically with laughter, a few snorts in between.

"What's so funny?" he asked as she rolled off him.

"You should have seen your face!"

"What's wrong with my face?" he exclaimed, lying on his side to face her.

She was hardly able to contain her laughter. "You were like-" she contorted her face into the ugliest look of surprise she could muster and howled with laughter again, holding her stomach.

"Wait, what was that?" Hans mocked, "I missed it."

"Like this." She made the same face and chuckled some more.

"Wait, I still didn't see it," Hans chortled, "Do it again."

She formed a ball of snow in the palm of her hand and slammed him in the face with it. "I'll freeze you if I have to."

"No you won't," he argued, wiping the snow off his face and flicking it away.

"Mock me again and I will!"

"Whatever you say."

Breathing heavily, the both of them lay spread eagle on their backs and gazed at the ceiling. "I guess you were right," Hans observed, "We were going to fall eventually."

No, it wasn't Jack Frost, so you can rule that one out. Sorry, Jelsa shippers.

So...Iceland is actually quite a distance away from Norway and they wouldn't have gotten there in a day, but pretend with me, okay?

The stretching noise...That's actually a thing. That I do. And I get made fun of all the time.

GOOD STUFF TO COME, GUYS! STAY TUNED!