MD3: Cross Purposes Chapter 26: Results Not Guaranteed, a frozen fanfic

Cross Purposes

by Concolor44

. . .

Author's Note:

Mundane Life continues to suck up my time. I know this isn't as long a piece as I normally post, but I didn't want to leave you hanging. Much.

I'd like once more to thank all of you who have taken the time to send me your thoughts. A few of these conversations have made adjustments in the path of the story, and I deeply appreciate any input that can improve the outcome.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Results Not Guaranteed

. . .

Queen's Hostel North, Arendelle, Saturday 28 May 1842, 4:45pm

Martin Pfyffer von Altishofen, Commandant of the Swiss Guard, came into the common room central to their group of rooms and waited until the conversation died down. "Gentlemen. Now that we have arrangements, I'll be taking our letter of introduction up to the palace. Ivar, Teodor, I'd like for you to come with me."

"Yes, sir."

He clasped his hands at the small of his back and started slowly to pace. "I was given to understand that the Queen is, um, currently on a mission of mercy. But she should return in an hour or two, so we may have to wait for a bit once we get there."

Ivar, frowning slightly, asked, "What sort of mission of mercy would a Queen have?"

"Ah … as to that …" Martin searched for the right words. "The Harbormaster was eager to explain that to me. Apparently, Queen Elsa has a gift of divine healing."

That made them sit up. Some looked at each other. Jan, near the front, asked, "Healing? To what extent?"

"She, ah, has apparently prevented the deaths of some two dozen of her subjects."

"I thought she was Protestant."

"And so she is."

More blank stares. "How?"

"When I asked, he shrugged and grinned at me, and said, 'Magic.' He was quite blasé about it. Unsettlingly so. The people of Arendelle … they, um, simply accept that their Queen is a highly magical being." He shook his head with a small smile. "His Holiness had told me … well. Many things. I was not prepared for the … um, utter lack of anything approaching approbation here. Her people appear to love her most intensely. Two others I spoke with had similar tales. One had been present when she healed the Prince Consort."

"Her husband?"

"No, the Princess's husband. Commoner, as the story goes, though I'm not privy to details."

"Did he get sick?"

"No. He'd been run through with a sword during their wedding celebration."

"What?!"

"Assassins, as he told it; there was a sorcerer trying to kill the Queen, and it was part of his plan."

"A sorcerer?" responded one of the men in a low voice. "Is he still around?"

"No. Queen Elsa and her husband fought the sorcerer and killed him."

"How could healing magic combat-"

"She's a woman of many talents. I plan to get the rest of the story soon. In any case, the Queen, ah, removed all traces of the wound, and according to the shopkeeper I spoke with, he is perfectly fit today."

A solemn blanket of silence settled gently over the group as they digested that. Finally, Teodor observed, "The Arendelle Royal family are Protestants."

"True. They follow the Lutheran tradition."

"But she works miracles."

"Teodor, to answer that question you carefully didn't ask, no, I can't explain it. In any case, His Holiness would like to see if she could be brought into the faith. She did, after all, marry a Catholic."

One of the men scoffed, "I've heard about him. Spanish expatriate. He might be Catholic by birth, but he's not in the Church."

"None of which matters to our primary mission. We are charged with offering her our aid and protection as a show of goodwill from His Holiness. This we will do. Pope Gregory is convinced of her sincerity and faith, and that's good enough for me."

That brought on a chorus of, "Aye." "He would know." "True." "Wouldn't be here otherwise." And several similar sentiments.

Martin brandished the packet containing the letter of introduction. "To which end we should get moving." Motioning to his chosen companions, he stepped out the door.

. . .

Countess Liesel's estate, the southern point of Arendelle, 5:05pm

Captain Mayer, upon their arrival, had taken the liberty of sending spies into Arendelle City. Each carried a brace of homing pigeons which had been supplying the mercenary leader with regular intelligence about movements in and around the castle for the last full day. The keeper had just received another such message, and brought it to Mayer where he and the Countess lounged in her garden.

Liesel waited (a bit impatiently, truth be told) while he read the short letter. "Well?"

He looked up at her with a lopsided smile. "The Queen has left the castle atop one of her ice creatures. According to this, we might be able to intercept her far from her main forces."

"Is that what you intend to do? Is it a good idea?"

"It is certainly worth a try. We may not get a better chance for some time."

She nibbled at her lip while thinking it over, then laid a hand on his arm. "Please be careful. She's dangerous."

"So are we."

"My Captain … Felix … overconfidence has brought ruin to many down through the years. I have a generous list of reasons why I don't want that to happen to you."

"And my list is at least as long. Please don't worry. This isn't the first time my company has undertaken such an effort. We know what we are doing."

"So, you've fought a sorceress before? Really?"

"No. We haven't. But we have the artifact. She won't be able to use her foul magic in its presence. This will give us the advantage, and my Rifles are excellent marksmen."

"… As you say. Still, something about this doesn't feel quite right. Please, please be careful."

He rose to stand before her, took her hand, and kissed it. "I shall be the soul of discretion."

"I'm holding you to that."

. . .

The shack where Elsa was attacked, 6:20pm

Sentinels had been arriving by ones and twos and more for most of an hour. Not knowing what else to do, they paced around the area, trying to figure out what had happened, and discussing the possibilities and consequences. All of them had, by this time, realized they'd somehow received a magical boost in size and intelligence, and many were trying to work out why. They all agreed there were a lot of puzzle pieces missing.

When Marshmallow got there, they gathered around him and began Sending questions. He held up both hands until they stilled. {{ My brothers, something bad happened to Our Lady. Something that severed Her connection with us.}}

{{This, we know. But what may be done about it? And where is She?}}

{{It is hidden from my eyes. But a time later, She sent us more magic, so we may hope that She has overcome at least some aspect of that which attacked Her.}}

{{I think there is little we can do to aid Her at this time. I will go to the City and search out those who love Her as we do. They may know what help we can give. Until then, you should return to the duty for which She made you, that of protecting Her beloved land.}}

{{It is good, what you say. But how will you approach the City? Will they not fear you? Your appearance is fell, indeed.}}

{{I may do this thing because Our Lady gave me a gift.}} He quickly shrank to roughly man-height, molding his features then into a semblance of Kristoff's face. {{You, She made even more ably fierce, as shown by your thoughts and your forms. To me, She offered a way to be with Her when needed, even among the other humans.}}

A susurration of agreement swept over the Sentinels. {{Your words are good. We will do this. It will honor Our Lady.}}

{{Be strong, brothers. I will speak what I learn, as soon as I may.}} In seconds, he regained his former bulk, elongating his legs greatly, and set off for Arendelle's capitol at a sprint.

. . .

Arendelle Castle gardens, 6:40pm

"You know, I thought I just might find you out here."

Sofia whirled instantly, giving a little jump at the sudden intrusion. She'd been pacing around among the roses for the past twenty minutes, alternately supplicating and berating God for allowing such a thing to happen to a creature as sweet and kind and noble as Elsa. Peering intently at the man, she said, "Mr. Eberhard? What are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened to the Queen. I knew how close you two are. I felt you might appreciate a steadying hand."

"Indeed, that would be welcome. But, thank you, I already have someone to offer me such comfort."

"You mean Knutsen?"

"That would be Councilor Knutsen. I wouldn't think you'd need reminding again."

Eric waved off her objection. "A momentary aberration on the Queen's part, I assure you. She will realize her mistake before long, and appoint someone more appropriate to the position."

"Oh, really."

"You may rely on it." He took a step in her direction. Another. "To your point, though, I don't see Knut- … ah, the Councilor around anywhere. Why would he not be here in your hour of need?"

She narrowed her eyes in a moment of furious thought. She'd been studying Court intrigues for a decade and a half, and wasn't about to be taken in by such a ruse. "… Why, indeed? And what might you know of it, Mr. Eberhard?"

"I? I am quite sure I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. How did you know Dankert would not be here with me? He moved into his rooms in the castle ten days ago. We see each other quite frequently, as is only to be expected since we are betrothed."

"The man is besotted with his mathematics, and with precious little else, as you will discover to your sorrow." He moved closer. "You need to see him for what he is, not what you wish him to be."

Cocking her head slightly, she adjusted her stance and stared him down. "What did you do with him?"

"Do with him?" He couldn't quite suppress a smirk. "Why, not a thing. Why would I trouble myself? You'll realize your mistake soon enough, and then we can-" His sentence died abruptly when the tip of Sofia's sword appeared in front of his nose.

"I asked you a question."

"You can't … how dare … I'm the son of a Baron!"

"You will soon be the earless son of a Baron if you don't answer me!"

He jerked backwards and turned to run, calling, "Guards! Guards! Help!"

Sofia, however, was in better shape. She ran him down and knocked a leg out from under him, sending him to the ground in a heap, where a large rock cost him two teeth. He scrambled around to try to sit up, crabbing away from her sword, but the keen point came to rest against his throat. At that point, two of the Guard came running up. One of them, a Sergeant who had sparred with Sofia several times, said, "Countess? What's wrong? What did he do?"

"I believe he kidnapped …" she swallowed hard, savagely suppressing the voice in her mind that whispered, 'or killed', "Councilor Knutsen. He had information and intentions that make me nearly certain of it."

The Guards turned hard eyes on Eberhard. Practically everyone in the Queen's service knew the man, knew his reputation. They had no trouble believing Sofia's accusation. Grabbing him by his arms, they hauled him to his feet, relieving him of a dagger. "The Captain will have a word with you now, I think. You can come with us quietly, or we can drag you there unconscious. Your choice."

A fuming Sofia followed as they escorted a very subdued minor peer to his interview. She didn't sheathe her sword.

. . .

The Hidden Pass into Arendelle, 7:00pm

Field Marshall Lars Bladberg found himself impressed with the discipline and efforts of his troops. The five thousand men had filed into the high, narrow valley at triple-time, and were nearly finished setting up the camp. After sending his officers away to their various duties, he tied his tent-flaps closed and pulled out the leather satchel with the King's secret orders.

Five minutes later, he was smiling broadly and chuckling in glee. His faith in his King was restored. It was all a feint! A ruse to show … well, that part stifled his enjoyment of the situation. The Princess had been kidnapped. Under normal circumstances it would be a simple matter of ransoming her, but these were not normal circumstances. Someone – someone with power and a lot of money – had a vendetta against Queen Elsa, and decided to prosecute it via the army of the Kingdom of Sweden and Norway. Still, King Charles was hopeful that Eugénie would be rescued and returned to them before many more days passed. All the 'invasion force' had to do was cool their heels (literally) for a week or two while the details got cleaned up, and they could all go home without any bloodshed. It was an intense relief. He held his men in high regard, and jealously guarded their lives at every opportunity.

He was in such an improved mood at supper that his senior officers remarked upon it. He would say nothing except that all would be revealed in the morning when he addressed the troops. And he couldn't repress the occasional chuckle.

Later, as everyone was preparing for bed, Colonel Aronsson stopped by Bladberg's tent. "Field Marshall?"

Bladberg threw the tent flap open. "Aronsson. Is anything wrong?"

"Not at all. I was only hoping for a bit of advance notice on your address tomorrow."

The Field Marshall contemplated him narrowly for a moment, then shook his head. "I have my orders from the King. Some of his plans, I will explain to everyone in the morning. But the men must rest tomorrow. We have traveled a long way, a hard way. They will appreciate a bit of better news after breakfast."

"Ah. I, ah, I see. Well, you know best."

Bladberg let slip the slightest of smirks. "Thank you. The King would seem to agree."

The Colonel pulled out a small flask. "I was hoping we could celebrate whatever had boosted your spirits to such an extent. Perhaps instead, a quick toast to our success?"

The other man raised a brow and licked his lips. "Would that be from your private stock?" Aronsson was widely noted for his refined taste in liquor.

"Indeed. I know it's not strictly regulation, but we are, after all, heading to bed soon. I couldn't see the harm."

"Truly." He frowned. "I didn't bring any glasses."

"Expecting that, I did." He produced a pair of tiny tumblers of blue glass.

Chuckling, Bladberg invited him in the rest of the way. "Who could say no? What have you there? Akvavit?"

"Not this time. I felt something a bit more auspicious would serve better." Holding up the flask, he explained. "This is an Islay single-malt scotch from Laphroaig. It rested in its keg for eighteen years before being decanted, and a smoother drink I think I have never tasted."

"Perfect. By all means, pour away."

Aronsson, facing away from his superior officer, set the glasses down on the tiny table near the cot, and carefully poured thirty milliliters of the golden liquid into each. Then he turned and casually presented Bladberg with the one in his right hand. "The King's health."

"The King's health."

They both spent a couple of breaths admiring the nose of the rare spirit before taking a small sip, letting it trickle down the throat, then tossing off the rest.

Bladberg's eyes slid shut. "Oh, my."

"Yes. Amazing, is it not?"

They stood in silence for a moment before the Field Marshall clapped the other man on the shoulder. "Aronsson, thank you. I promise you won't be sorry, once I pass on our orders in the morning."

"I trust you there, sir." No, he thought, I won't be sorry at all. Not at all. He left the tent with a tight smile on his face.

. . .

Arendelle Castle, 7:20pm

The half hour after arriving at the castle was something of a blur when Carlos tried later to recall it. There were maids and doctors, Anna and Kristoff and Sofia, Councilors and Guards, and at some point, early on, Juan had managed to get a shirt and some trousers on him. Carlos hovered while they did their work, but as soon as they had a good idea of her state of health, and had realigned the break in her nose, he shooed them aside and covered her in his healing aura.

He knew this might take some time; he tried to prepare himself mentally. He knew she was vastly more adept than he at healing someone else's injuries, and he was counting on her waking at some point to take over. He wove a soft blanket of comfort, eased her pain as much as he could, and sat vigil. Now and again, he would Send to her, but two hours in, he had no response.

Anna had stayed, curled up against her other side, holding one hand and lightly rubbing her thumb across Elsa's knuckles. Then Carlos had an idea. "Anna? If you're willing to help, I'd like to try something. I don't know if it will be dangerous, but if-"

"Anything! Carlos, you know I'd do anything for her!"

The Spaniard eyed the small crowd milling quietly around, and motioned for Kristoff. When the blond came over, Carlos said, "I need you to clear the rest of the room."

"Um … okay. Why?"

"State secrets."

Kristoff frowned briefly; his eyes went wide; he glanced from Anna to Elsa, and nodded. "Okay, everyone, listen up. You all need to step out for a bit."

The physicians protested, but Kristoff was unmoved. "We're going to try something magical that needs both room and privacy. Out." And, grumbling, they did. He locked the door behind them and scooted back to the bed. "You think it'll work?"

"I have no idea. But at this point I'm willing to try anything."

"Me too," said Anna, her voice firm.

"All right … Anna, get as close up against her as you can."

The redhead threw an arm across her sister's waist and a leg across her thighs, nestling her head up under Elsa's chin. "Okay, now what?"

"Just hold on tight."

"Not a problem."

Carlos examined the healing aura, then entered the astral plane to look at it from that perspective. He noted how it worked with Elsa's natural spirit field, and how it reacted to Anna's, and began pushing and pulling and prodding and molding.

To Kristoff, it didn't look like anything was happening. He quickly grew restless. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. Then Anna gave out a muffled grunt, and Elsa's form took on a soft, blue glow. "Is that it? Is it working?"

As he watched, the dark bruises on Elsa's face began to fade. The slight dip where her nose was broken disappeared. Kristoff held his breath. When Anna and Sofia had returned to the castle, the news about Elsa's blinding had stunned everyone. They all knew of her ability to heal wounds, though, and were quite hopeful that when the Prince Consort brought her back – and they had no doubt he would – she would be able to regain her sight … assuming she was still alive. He peered closely at her face …

Less than a minute passed before the sunken lids began filling out.

. . .

8:10pm

"Are you sure she doesn't just … I don't know, need to sleep it off?" asked Anna hopefully.

Carlos shook his head, his dark, burning eyes staring intently at his wife. "I can't reach her mind. There is no way that is normal in any way, shape, or form. Something is still wrong."

Doctor Odum and two of his assistants had fussed around Elsa for a while after Carlos finished the healing. None of them could give him a valid reason for her continued state of unconsciousness, and that bothered everyone concerned.

Reaching out a hand, Carlos gently brushed her bangs back. One of Doctor Odum's standard tests involved checking her eyes' reaction to light, and that result was disturbing. They were every bit as blue as Carlos remembered … but unresponsive. The pupils were small, no matter how much light was present, and they stared fixedly ahead, never even twitching. "This is beyond me. For once, I really wish Morana would show up. She at least might know what's wrong."

"Hmm." Anna caught Kristoff's eye. "Maybe we could ask someone else who knows a lot about magic?"

Slowly, he nodded. "He might know. He's had some experience with 'persuading a head', hasn't he?"

Glancing between them, Carlos asked irritably, "Are you planning on letting me in on the secret?"

"The trolls," Anna replied.

That pulled him up short. Naturally, he knew about them, knew they had helped the royal family of Arendelle a couple of times, but he'd never met them, and held all such Elemental beings in a wary state of distrust until they proved otherwise. "You really think that would be a good idea?"

Anna pursed her lips and gave him a defiant stare. "Do you have a better one?"

"… Truthfully …" He sagged a little. "No. I don't."

"Let's get her into the carriage."

"How about I just fly her there?"

"Do you know where it is?"

He shut his eyes. Rubbed them. Let his head thump back against the wall. "I'm not thinking clearly. My apologies." Facing the Princess, he said, "I can carry you both. You could direct me."

"Um, actually, Kristoff's the one who can find them. I know approximately what direction the Valley is, but not well enough to show you."

Kristoff added, "You probably couldn't see it from the air, anyway. It's magically hidden."

"… Then how do you …"

"I grew up there. The trolls are my family."

"Oh. Right. Yes, thank you, I knew that." He waved them off. "Apologies. Again."

. . .

Valley of the Living Rock, 11:35pm

"Hmm. Volcanic vents," Carlos observed. "I wasn't aware this area had any active volcanoes."

"Likely it wouldn't, if the trolls weren't here." Kristoff motioned for them to stay put and stumped off to a smallish cave mouth. Calling softly, he was shortly joined by a short, round figure easily visible in the light of the waning gibbous moon. The two spoke quietly for a few moments before the troll walked up to where Carlos stood with Elsa in his arms. "Your Highness." His voice was a well-modulated baritone that seemed instantly to ease some of Carlos's fears.

"Sir. Kristoff said … well, Elsa was … injured. I've healed her as much as I can, but …" His breath caught. He took a few deep ones. "We have a … special connection. We can speak to each other's minds. But I can't get through to her and … and she won't wake up. I don't know what else to do."

Grandpabbie placed a rough, blunt-fingered hand on her head, but then jerked it back. He stared at her for two breaths. Took his staff and laid it across her chest. The fire crystals tied around its upper end glowed; two of them flashed. "Bring her. This will not be easy." He headed back to his cave.

. . .

Thanks for reading! Remember, Reviews = Love.