AN: Before writing this I read the entirety of "A Snowflake in Spring" by Celery Sticks.
It was not my best decision ever. The feels were just… oh man, the feels.
But I managed to get all those daggers out of my feels in the end, and then I just wrote. And wrote. And wrote. And that's what brings us to chapter 26 here.
"I did it last time, I'll do it again," Vanja warned the sailor sitting next to her.
"Fine, Ostberg-Lang," the sailor smiled drunkenly, patting his muscular chest and showing off his tattooed arms. "But you can't resist this forever!"
Vanja downed her drink, looked at the sailor, then mumbled. "Oi, Frida! Refill!"
The sailor took a great draught of his own drink, slamming the mug on the table between them. Then he eyed up the competition. He wasn't the only one vying for miss Ostberg-Lang's attention tonight. Two blacksmiths, a silversmith, another sailor, and an absolute bear of a man from the artillery corps. So far miss Ostberg-Lang hadn't shown the slightest interest in any of them—aside from the challenge they proposed about the last man standing getting a kiss. Probably a very drunken kiss, the sailor considered, the way things were going.
The blacksmith on Vanja's right placed a hand on her fur-covered shoulder, and in his inebriated state let it slip lower than it should have. She reacted immediately, cracking the man's knuckles against the table with her left hand. Drunk men took liberties. Liberties she couldn't afford to have taken. Not since… Vanja shook her head, burying the memory with the drink Frida had just brought her. The blacksmith was growling something unimportant, rubbing his bruised knuckles.
After another swig of her drink, Vanja finally took pity on the man, taking his bruised hand in her own, turning it over and inspecting the damage. Bruised knuckles, split skin.
"You'll live," she pronounced, dropping his hand. "Stop touching what isn't yours and that won't happen."
The blacksmith growled something unintelligible, but stared into his drink. Vanja smiled as the sailor who'd tried making a move earlier passed out across from her with a heavy thud against the table, sloshing rum from his over-filled mug. The silversmith hadn't lasted long at all. He'd been too refined for her tastes anyway. Overly polite, almost fawning. But the attention had been nice, for a while.
Now, now she had a little fire in her belly, Vanja really felt like loosening up. A different kind of contest. Arm wrestling, maybe—that would certainly put these men in their place. Underneath the furs she always wore, Vanja Ostberg-Lang was very muscular for a woman her size. For anyone her size, really. The furs weren't for warmth though, as she knew so many assumed. It was because she liked the feel. What most people would never know was that making them had once been her great craft. She still hunted sometimes, following the old ways. Selling pelts helped make a good living, as did her time serving on the council. She knew one of those would eventually run out, and was fairly certain it wouldn't be the pelts she hunted for.
But she was getting sidetracked, time for a contest. She had her quarry in sight now. The other sailor, the one still somehow conscious after drinking so heavily he could have set sail on a sea of alcohol.
"You," Vanja pointed at him, holding her right arm out in the accepted form of challenge for this kind of contest. "Let's go."
"Whaddo I get ifs I win?" the sailor slurred.
"I'll give you a kiss. But you ain't gonna win, tough guy."
The blacksmith on her right counted them in. Vanja could feel the sailor trying to force her hand over, and let him have an inch or so of movement. Then she tensed her muscles and the sailor's hand stopped dead, a look of surprise crossing his drunken face.
"You're cute," Vanja teased the man. "Are you just going to let me win?"
The sailor redoubled his efforts to force her hand over, and Vanja had to admit to being impressed by the massive hawser like muscles in the man's arm. He was very strong, but also very drunk.
"That's more like it!"
With a grunt of effort Vanja pushed the sailor's hand back, forcing it back past vertical. She felt the sailor give a desperate burst of strength to try and force her back, but to no avail. His hand slammed against the wooden table—not quite hard enough to hurt—and Vanja smiled in triumph.
"You buy the next round," The sailor opened his mouth to protest, but Vanja cut him off. "You think a kiss from me wouldn't be worth that much? Oh, well"—she jerked a thumb towards the silversmith and the other sailor—"you can leave them out. It's not like they'd appreciate a drink right now."
"I accept challenge," the massive artilleryman held his arm out in the correct form. "I win, one kiss. You win, I buy the next round."
"Done!" Vanja slammed her fist on the table, then reached out to take the artilleryman's hand. It absolutely dwarfed hers, but she wasn't about to back down. She would never back down from a fight.
The blacksmith counted them in again, then patted his comrade on the shoulder because he'd just got up to leave, muttering something about important work and sleeping it off. He stayed long enough to watch the struggle though. It took ten minutes, and Vanja fought for every one of them, feeling her arm slowly falling sideways as her hand grew ever closer to the tabletop. The artilleryman was just too large, and not nearly drunk enough to be sloppy or weakened by his inebriation.
Massaging her nearly numb hand for a moment, Vanja slammed both her fists on the table in frustration. Well, he'd won, and she'd underestimated him. He leaned in for his prize. Vanja made a show of sniffing his face.
"Clean enough," she said at last, then planted a drunken half-kiss on his lips to the hoots and jeers of the rest of the patrons in Hus av Strykejern.
"You've never seen anyone lose a bet before?" she asked angrily, eyeing the room around her. Everyone else turned back to their own conversations. "I'm done."
And with that, she left, staggering through the dimly lit streets of Arendelle until she reached her home on the outskirts near the woods. She didn't care that being drunk probably made her more vulnerable. It meant she wouldn't have to remember that… no, she was too drunk to deal with that right now. Hopefully she would have forgotten it by the morning. Then she could just go back to hating everyone in equal measure.
Still in his workshop late at night, Søren had actually seen Vanja stumble past, and had taken a short break to quietly ensure she was okay, watching from afar as she made it to her door. Slipping back into his workshop he sighed at the slightly charred pasty atop the coals in the forge. These things happened, and the filling was still good anyway. The charring just hid his blackened fingerprints.
He was nearly done with the wheels now. The hubs had been easy for Søren, little more than short, hollow tubes, surrounded by discs that had required a great many holes to be drilled through them. He was immensely grateful for the drilling machine his earnings had afforded him two years prior. Then he had to make the spokes—he had talked with other members of the blacksmith's guild about bicycle tyres, and the best way to construct them. Over a hundred spokes all told, all of equal length, with a short bend to hook securely into the hub. The opposite end of each spoke had to be threaded, and then secured inside the rim with a brass nipple.
Søren sighed, getting back to work. Each of the spokes did not extend straight out to the rim of the wheel, instead, they crossed each other in triplets, forming a complicated weave of thin metal rods. Both sides of the wheel were constructed that way, with the nipples screwed on loosely to hold the spokes in place as the other smiths had advised. He was unconcerned that they hadn't questioned his motives. They knew he was always attempting to improve his craft, and if they could show him something new, well, next time he wouldn't have so many questions about their techniques—some of which were quite radical.
Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Søren yawned, taking in his work. One wheel so far, but now his mind was numbed, and the spokes still had not been tensioned. But he was too tired to continue, so he left himself a short note, and collapsed on the small bed in the room at the back of the workshop. Konrad would understand if he wasn't home. He was a good kid like that. As he drifted off to sleep Søren found himself wondering if Elsa might be so understanding of such things.
"What do you mean, 'missing'?" Kai held Gerda's gaze levelly, trying to hide his own worry at the implication behind what he'd just heard.
"I checked their rooms Kai, they're not there. Not in the ballroom either. Or anywhere in the castle for that matter. No one can recall seeing them since before yesterday evening. They missed dinner. Princess Anna never skips a meal—"
"We have a problem," Kai's voice was level, but shaky. The Queen always had a plan however, and she would have left clues. "I will check Elsa's study. Princess Anna may be irresponsible, but I know Queen Elsa would at least have left a note if she didn't have time to talk to us."
Kai's hand went to the crucifix beneath his shirt, rubbing it through the fabric as if it were a talisman. If anything has happened to their majesties—no. I mustn't think like that. This is not the same as three years ago. Elsa had mentioned something about the north mountain and another—creation. Was she trying to resolve that? One hand still on his crucifix, Kai opened the door to Queen Elsa's study. Wan sunlight filtered in through the high windows, illuminating a small piece of parchment in the centre of the ornate desk.
Smoothing the paper against the desk, Kai read it and breathed a sigh of relief. Anna is taking me to a secret place she says Kai helped her find. We intend to be back before midnight. Kai read the note again, making sure of what he'd just seen. Before midnight. Before. Kai hurried to the wall, grabbing the first map of Arendelle he could find, tracing out all possible routes to the place he had helped the Princess find several days ago. It was a respectable distance, a hike maybe two hours long through the woods. Through the woods… through the border forest.
Only then did Kai remember Princess Anna's admission about becoming very lost when searching for the Queen. Only then did he think to question whether or not his Queen might have similar problems. She knew the castle well—she couldn't not—and she knew well enough how to navigate the township of Arendelle. But the forest was something else entirely.
Replacing the map shakily, Kai left the study and went looking for Gerda. Their discussion was brief, and to the point. The captain of the guards was informed of the situation, and search parties were immediately dispatched to the woods. Marshal Gerhardt dispatched his own teams when he heard the news. Teams composed of military scouts and the best fusiliers from the Royal Marines. Teams capable of dispatching any bandits or enemy raiding parties with perfunctory ease. It might not be enemy action, but Gerhardt was unwilling to take that chance.
Inwardly, Gerhardt cursed at the Queen's pacifistic nature. It was probably worse that the Princess was with her. Elsa would be forced to hold back, to avoid hurting her sister. Gerhardt's blood ran cold. Both Queen Elsa and Princess Anna were missing. A crisis of succession would cripple Arendelle. Gerhardt forced himself to exhale. To consider the possibilities. He already knew neither of the royal sisters had taken a bodyguard with them. They had taken no escort. They were travelling the border forest at night. Elsa had her magic, but would it be enough?
Again, there was the possibility that it might not be enemy action, but that was simply too convenient for Marshal Gerhardt's tastes. Such a move would be a masterstroke at crippling a small nation like Arendelle, and without their Queen, who could the people look to to save them. There were few times Gerhardt regretted having earned his rank the hard way, but this was one of them. His soldiers would listen, but the people would not. He slammed his fist against the edge of his map table in frustration, the tiny figures atop it rattling unsteadily. The best he could hope for now was that this was simply some kind of mistake, and that the Queen had been negligent in informing her staff of her plans.
And when and if she got back, Gerhardt was going to assign her a bodyguard, whether she liked it or not. Queen Elsa's safety was of paramount importance. That was all there was to it. To keep Arendelle safe, he was going to have to keep its Queen safe, possibly even against her wishes—because she seemed to have little regard for her own security, even factoring in the power of her magic. Gerhardt slammed his fist against the table again, several small figures toppling sideways. Dealing with her was infuriating, but she was the Queen, and he would put no other before her.
Lieutenant Erikson had been tired and grumpy. Had been. Those emotions vanished when he was told why he'd been awakened so early after conducting night drills what felt like mere minutes ago. Elsa was missing. So was Anna. The palace guards had already been sent out to search the forest. Scouts and marine fusiliers were being formed into teams in order to assist them—in case the royal sisters were not missing, but taken. Hank was cleaned, dressed and fully armed in under five minutes. So was everyone else under his command.
Each team consisted of two scouts and four fusiliers. There were twenty such teams, and commandant Erling Horn was informing all of them just how the search was to be conducted. The border forest was not considered the safest of places, and that was before the border kingdoms themselves were taken into account. If enemy action was confirmed, the fusiliers were to launch an immediate rescue operation if the scouts could safely locate the Queen and the Princess. If not, they were to report back all their findings in the hopes that it would help speed up the search for the royal sisters.
"You have your orders," barked the commandant. "Now go! Double time!"
Deep within the border forest, hidden in a cave behind a waterfall, lying near an underground spring, were the royal sisters. One was snoring. The other was being used as a blanket. Elsa let out a surprised gasp when she realized exactly what was going on. Anna lay beneath her, wearing a dress—half wearing a dress, and three towels and two blankets were piled up atop them. It was actually ridiculously warm in the pile of blankets, and the platinum blonde Queen of Arendelle struggled to free herself from its embrace.
She watched Anna roll over, make an odd half-snore, and reach for something before burrowing down into the blankets. The tangled mass of fiery orange atop her head made it look she'd lost a fight with a broom cupboard. Elsa couldn't help but laugh at the mental image that presented. Anna fighting off animated mops and broomsticks before getting ambushed by a soapy bucket and a sponge. Her laughter woke Anna, who immediately complained about the bright sun above them.
"And… and… oh no, we've been here all night. I've been here all night," her hand went to her hair and she giggled. "I guess that's never gonna change. Elsa—Elsa, are you still here? Where'd you go?"
"Over here Anna," Elsa replied from the shadows. "It was getting too hot under that blanket—how can you sleep in that?"
"Because it's nice and warm and oh—wait, was it too hot because of me, or because it's so many blankets?"
"Because of the blankets, Anna. It's fine," Elsa sighed, sitting up, using her magic to keep her upright. "It's not fine. I'm not fine. I—You surprised me last night. I–I'm not sorry, or angry. I'm confused Anna. Everything you said was right. I can't deny that. Everything you did. But I still don't know why. Why, Anna?"
"Why what, Elsa?" Anna's voice took on a concerned tone. "Did I–did I do something wrong?"
"No, and that's just it. It felt right. When you kissed me, I mean. It felt right, and it feels so wrong. You're my sister and I shouldn't love you like that, but I do. I know you love me, but I never thought it was in that way…"
"I–I'm not sure it is in that way Elsa. I love you as my sister. I love you as my friend. I love you more than you'll ever know—and I don't always know how to show it, but I like seeing you smile; hearing you laugh. I love everything about you Elsa—well, except for your habit of getting up at dawn, and your stuffy queenliness sometimes, and the way you always have to be so responsible in front everyone. Or the way you have to hide things from people. Hide things from me. I mean, I understand why Elsa, I really do, it's just… it hurts me when you do that. And I know that knowing that hurts you too, so that's why I try not to push these things too much."
Elsa cleared her throat, dragging herself into her chair. "We should be heading back now Princess feistypants."
"Really, Elsa, that's all you've got?" Anna stared disbelievingly at her sister, one eyebrow raised. "I tell you why I like you—how I like you—and I admit there's some things that aren't that great, and all you've got is a 'let's go home'? Seriously?"
"I'm sorry Anna, that was unkind of me. You were honest and open, and I just brushed that off. I like that you feel you can always be that open and honest with me. I'm just a little distracted, okay? I'm not sure what time it is, and I left a note for Kai saying we'd be back before midnight. I'm hungry, and I—well I don't know, really. Hey, how did you manage to fit all that into your satchel—well, mostly?"
"Like this!" Anna demonstrated, shoving everything in, pounding it until it fit, then barely managing to close the flap to secure it. "See, nothing to it. Umm, wanna do anything about your hair—I know we can't save mine."
Conjuring a mirror of ice, Elsa self-consciously ran her hands through her hair, taming most of the frizz and flyaways. Being able to actually freeze her hair in place had nothing to do with it. Or at least Anna hadn't figured out that trick yet. Peering sideways at the mirror, Anna made a half-hearted attempted at reducing her own mane. It made about as much difference as yelling at the wind. She shrugged and decided she could simply live with it.
Emerging from behind the waterfall, Anna pushing her chair, the first thing Elsa saw were the bautasten she'd been unable to read at dusk the previous evening. She bade Anna to stop in front of those standing stones, reaching a hand up to trace the runic script carved into the stones. One of the many things she'd learned in her self-imposed isolation was how to read runes—not just modern runes, but the Elder Futhark as well.
The runes were a short verse extolling the virtues of a long dead king, his wife, and their child. The words were simple, but they evoked a strange longing in the Queen. She gasped when she read the queen's bautasten. The rune poem was very different, the prose much more elaborate, but that was not what had caught Elsa's attention. It was the word used to describe what the queen could do: Ismakt. It meant ice powers in Norse.
Seeing the word was such a shock, such a revelation, that Elsa nearly wept in relief, prompting her sister to ask if something was wrong.
"Nothing's wrong," Elsa took Anna's hand and guided it to the rune-word. "See this word here?"—Anna nodded, looking questioningly at her sister—"Ismakt. It means ice powers, Anna. Ice powers. It means I'm not the only one—but I've never seen that name on the lineage pedigree. The stones are very old, so it's possible that this is from, well, before."
"I wonder what she was like." Anna spoke wistfully, running her fingers gently across the runes. "I wonder if she was like you?"
"I hope not," Elsa replied sadly.
"Why, Elsa?" Anna remained positive. "You're an amazing person, and I can list off like literally dozens of things that make you great but I guess it's not always working because you can't be positive all the time like me and it's okay to not be positive all the time because I guess, I mean it must be hard for someone like you to be brave and face the world and I'm rambling and Elsa did I say something wrong?"
"You wan't to know why I hope she wasn't like me?" Elsa wiped away a tear.
"Why?"
"Because she couldn't have you. If she was like me, and she didn't have you…"
It was Anna's turn to wipe away tears then, and she had to tell a half-hearted joke. "You really do care."
Seeing the mischievous grin on Anna's face was what led to half an hour of chasing each other through the dense woodland, scaring various small animals and scattering snow everywhere. It didn't matter to Elsa that her hair was all messed up, or that every other minute she seemed to be getting tipped from her chair by uncooperative tree roots or hillocks or fallen logs. It didn't matter because she had her magic to put herself right, and if that failed, Anna would double back, deposit her in the chair, and run off again. But even as they played, doubts began to gather in Elsa's mind.
It was easily mid-morning. Possibly noon, depending on when they'd actually woken up. Elsa had left a note for Kai, as she had said earlier. The note was to inform him where they'd gone, and when they were expected back. She sincerely hoped that her and Anna hadn't caused some sort of minor disaster by spending the night in the woods. Remembering the geography of Arendelle, Elsa asked herself exactly which woods these were likely to be. The answer hit her like a sack of bricks. The border forest.
"Damn," it was barely above a whisper.
"What?" Anna managed to hear it, despite being nearly twenty feet away.
"Anna, we just spent the night in the border forest. I told Kai we'd be back by midnight. I think we may have created a slight problem—okay, that's an understatement. It's going to be huge. People are going to be blamed—things are going to be rough when we get back. Not right away, but after. I'm sure the council will be having words with me about 'irresponsible jaunts with your sister' when they find me. Anna I love everything you've done, but—"
"Did I mess up?" Anna asked, voice full of regret. "Was it bad?"
"It's my fault Anna. I didn't think of what might happen, and I didn't know where we were going—no, it was a good surprise, don't apologize—but I should have realized we might end up spending the night away from the castle. I messed things up. Again. Freezing you. Dismissing Gerhardt. Terrifying the Bishop. I keep messing up Anna. Why can't I do anything right?"
"Because you're trying too hard," Anna placed her hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Just relax. Take a deep breath. Let things happen. That's how I deal with messing stuff up. I mean, when I'm not chasing my sister through the fjord and having a whole tree's worth of snow dumped on me and splashing through a frozen river and climbing a mountain to find her shut up in the most awesomest palace made of ice I've ever seen. I mean, there was this one time—"
"Anna, you're rambling."
"Oh. Sorry," and Anna gave Elsa the most adorable chagrined smile she'd ever seen. "Hey, umm, which way is it back to the castle?"
"Kai wasn't lying when he said you have no sense of direction, was he?"
"Hey!" Anna gave an indignant pout. "Okay, fine. But it was hard finding the north mountain in that blizzard. Everything was white."
"Anna, you can see it from the castle. It's so distinctive it's impossible to miss. Supposedly, because somehow, you managed to miss it."
"Hey!"
"Next time we go out I'm bringing a map and a compass, and I'm going to teach you how to use them properly. I'm sure Kristoff knows," Elsa teased with that last statement.
The shouting could be heard for hundreds of yards. Elsa and her sister finally noticed it, hearing their names on the wind. And that was when Elsa knew she was in trouble. She felt six years old again, her hand somehow caught in the cupboard door that held all the chocolate. The fate of which had been obvious from the brownish smudges around her lips and cheeks. This was going to be so much worse. She was the Queen. She was supposed to be a responsible adult. The people scolding her had good reason to do so. And they weren't her parents, but people she knew to some degree; knew and respected. Oh, was it ever going to be bad.
Elsa buried her head in her hands. "I'm dead," she mumbled.
"What?" Anna stared straight at her sister, wondering if she'd actually heard what she just thought she'd heard.
"I am so dead. The whole kingdom must be looking for us now. They're going to ask why. Ask where we were. Ask what we were—ack, Anna. You know I'd never tell them that. It was hard enough telling you. But you understood it. Everything it meant. Not everyone is so understanding and forgiving as you are."
"You're afraid they're going to punish you?" Anna asked, incredulous. "But you're the Queen. How could they possibly punish you?"
"They can't. Not really. But they'll have lectures for me. Harsh words. And I have to listen, because it is my fault this time."
Anna's reply was cut short when men of the palace guard came forward through the trees, several of them on horseback. One of the men did a double-take upon seeing the miniature forest caught in Princess Anna's hair. The Queen's hair was in a similar state, but somehow she managed to make it look regal and somewhat dignified. The lieutenant leading the search party dismounted from his horse, offering the sisters a curt bow.
"Your highness, your majesty, if you would, my men and I will lead you from the forest," he turned to another rider, taking his own horse by the reins. "Tell them to call off the search. The Queen has been found."
"We can find our own way home."
"Then we will serve as an escort. The border forest is not a safe place, your majesty."
Elsa knew there was no way out of it this time. Throughout the entire hike home it felt like her cheeks would ignite with the heat of her shame. All this commotion, simply because she hadn't arrived home on time. Elsa felt terrible for worrying everyone so much, but at the same time she was happy. It showed how much the people cared for their Queen. She still wondered how many were helping in the search simply because it was expected of them, and how many were genuinely concerned for her and Anna's safety.
It was several hours later when they reached the castle gates. Kai stood next to the gates, one hand against his chest, holding the crucifix beneath his shirt. His eyes were full of worry and Elsa couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Anna, staring at her feet, eyes downcast. They'd just wanted to have some innocent fun, Elsa knew Anna had just wanted to show her the spring. They'd messed up and put an entire kingdom on edge.
Kai bowed deeply, finally letting go of the crucifix beneath his shirt. "Your majesty, it is a great relief to see you have returned unharmed."
He turned to Anna. "Your highness, what possessed you to drag the Queen through the woods past midnight?"
"We were going on an adventure. You know the place you helped me find?" Anna was full of energy once more, no more shame-faced. "It's totally real, and amazing, and wonderful and I don't have words for it, Kai. I just don't. I know Elsa does. She knows so many. Oh, oh, and we found these standing stones—well, the ones you found on the map, and Elsa says there was a poem, and the Queen—the one in the poem, not Elsa—she had Ismakt. She was like Elsa, but not Elsa, and, and I gotta know more. There's gotta be something in the library, right Kai? Right?"
The ever reliable servant simply gave Elsa a look. She returned it with a raised eyebrow and an expressive shrug. It was Anna, what else could she do?
"Ah, your majesty, Marshal Gerhardt left a note for you earlier. It is in the envelope on your desk. He did not seem happy."
"I'm not sure Marshal Gerhardt is capable of being happy, Kai. He seems all too busy with making plans and scheming about possible conflicts. It's—" Elsa was going to say 'unsettling', because that was how she felt, but it wasn't fair to Gerhardt. He was only doing what he was required to do. "It's his job. I would hazard a guess that the note he left me has something about my safety being his job too. If you wouldn't mind?"
Kai stepped aside, letting Elsa wheel her chair into the castle proper. Gerhardt's note was exactly where Kai had said it would be, placed neatly at the edge of the ornate desk in her study. The books and ledgers from two days ago were undisturbed. Hands trembling, Elsa opened the envelope. The note contained nothing of substance. In fact it contained almost nothing at all.
Queen Elsa, meet me in the barracks. Now.
How dare he, Elsa raged internally. How dare he presume to tell her what do. How dare he—the fire went out of her, and Elsa sighed heavily. They might have butted heads over certain issues, but Gerhardt did have Arendelle's best interests at heart. She spared a thought to try and see things through Gerhardt's eyes, but she couldn't quite grasp what he might have seen. Elsa tried a different tack; what if she hadn't been Queen, but someone else was? What would the concern be?
How could I have been so stupid? Elsa cursed herself. How could I not have seen that? Am I blind?! Her internal monologue mellowed as she continued to think over the events of the day before. It wasn't deliberate, you just put someone else's needs ahead of your own. You set aside your responsibilities for her, but you'll never blame her. Anna is too much fun to be around. She's like a drug, and you don't care about an antidote. Bad Elsa, bad.
Elsa laughed, it seemed so silly to admonish herself like some misbehaved pet, but it worked. Making her way out of the castle she made sure to inform Kai exactly where she was going, and to inform him that she was unsure as to when she would return, but that she hoped it would be before dinner.
"Tea?" was Gerhardt's first question when Elsa entered his office. The conversational tone set her on edge.
"No, thank you."
"I honestly did not think you'd be that polite after I left that note for you, your majesty. I'm impressed," the Marshal failed to hide a slight smirk. He knew how Elsa's father would have reacted to such a summons, so this served as something of a test to see how alike they really were.
"I'm not. I know why you summoned me here. You think I was acting like a little girl, not the prim and proper Queen I'm always supposed to be. You also think I nearly caused a crisis of succession by taking my sister with me into the woods."
Gerhardt watched, fascinated, as fractal skeins of ice began to weave their way outwards from where Elsa's hands were placed against his desk. Slowly, so slow their movement was almost hypnotic, but Gerhardt was more interested in what the Queen was saying—and leaving unsaid.
"You probably expect me to deny those things like some petulant child that can't see what she's done wrong." Gerhardt frowned at that. It was, to some degree, what he had been expecting the Queen to do. To have her say it outright, however, meant there was something he'd missed. Or perhaps he'd simply underestimated her political aptitude; and in that respect at least, she was very much her father's daughter.
"But, Marshal, I am not going to deny those things. I am, as many would no doubt say if they were allowed, old enough to know better. I made a mistake, and I admit it. I also have some idea why you called me here to discuss this in private, rather than with the council."
"You do?" Gerhardt interlaced his fingers and leaned forwards, suddenly very interested.
"You plan to appoint someone as my bodyguard, 'for the good of the kingdom' or some such justification. After the commotion I caused this morning, you expect me to be unable to refuse, for fear of causing another such incident."
"Not just yourself, Queen Elsa, but Princess Anna as well. Outside the castle both of you seem to have little regard for your personal security. Arendelle, for the most part, respects and venerates the both of you. For the most part, as I said," Gerhardt's tone hardened. "Not everyone is like that. The wider world, the kingdoms around us"—Gerhardt spread his hands above the map on his desk—"they are not like Arendelle. Perhaps with the exception of Corona. My point is this, your majesty: the world is not a safe place. You will need protection. And in my life, I have found it more prudent to have such protection and never have needed it, than to need such protection and never have had it."
"Anna as well?" Gerhardt couldn't quite decipher the look that flashed across the Queen's face. Something over and above mere familial concern.
"Yes," Gerhardt nodded. "Both of you. If we—by which I mean Arendelle—were to lose either one of you it would be a great tragedy, much as when your parents were lost. If, however, both of you were lost, it might well destroy the kingdom. You have no heirs. Your parents are dead. Your closest relative by blood lives across the ocean in Corona. It would be a crisis of succession the likes of which Arendelle has never seen. Your safety is our paramount concern. You may hate me for this, and you may chafe at such an intrusion, but you are going to have a bodyguard appointed before the council meets again.
"One way, or another."
"I could always dismiss you, Gerhardt. It wouldn't be hard," the Marshal gave a little shiver then smiled darkly. There was an easy way out of that one. He'd been saving it for a later occasion, something a little more public, but it would work just as well here, with a minimum of modification.
"You could. It would be easy. The rest of the council knows we don't get along, but I get the feeling questions would be asked. Questions of why. Of what I might have done, or said. Do you think your story could hold up to that kind of scrutiny?"
"Bastard," she all but spat at him.
"Call me whatever you want, your majesty. It doesn't change the fact that I'm right. You need protection, whether you want to admit that or not. You've already said you won't use your magic to harm people—which you might have to do if you were protecting yourself—so you need a protector who is willing to do that for you. I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you can never talk to me again. All I care about is that Arendelle is kept safe, which means you have to be kept safe."
Gerhardt saw the ice behind the Queen's eyes, how hard she was holding back to keep from freezing something over. Half the desk was now covered in frost, tiny spikes rolling forward like waves cresting on the sea. He remembered the look she'd given him in the last meeting when he'd suggested bodyguards. A look that suggested she would never trust someone he had hand-picked for the task, no matter how qualified that soldier might be. So perhaps there was a way to defuse this.
"I am not the heartless monster so many think I am, sitting here above the rank and file, deciding who lives and who dies in war. My ultimatum remains the same: you require a bodyguard before the next council meeting. I know you would never trust anyone I chose, so perhaps you should try getting to know some of the men who are ultimately under your command."
"What?" the surprise in Elsa's eyes was clear to see. This was clearly not what she'd been expecting. Gerhardt allowed himself a small smile.
"Get to know the men. Maybe one will stand out as being good enough for you to employ. You had best do so quickly, because if you haven't chosen a bodyguard by the next council meeting, I will choose one for you."
"Can–can marines serve as bodyguards?"
"If you consider them more trustworthy than our other soldiers or sailors, certainly."
Gerhardt didn't both asking why. If the Queen was asking such a question there could only be one reason.
Elsa left, not bothering to thaw Gerhardt's desk. That annoyingly self-satisfied smile had just been too much.
AN: Okay, some characterization may have been a little off there—nothing I can really put my finger on—but I blame it on following too many stories with too many differently nuanced Elsa's, Anna's, and everyone else's besides.