Chapter Twenty-Four
Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.
When the sun finally rose pink over the frozen river, Hans let out a sigh and sat up. Despite Kristoff's advice, he hadn't slept a great deal during the night, and the knot of worry in his stomach had tightened again with the pale daylight.
Kristoff, too, looked grim as he led Sven out and hitched the reindeer up to the sled. The two tore down the tent and packed up the rest of Kristoff's belongings in the back of the sled without speaking a word, each with his own thoughts on his mind. It was only as they climbed in and Kristoff snapped the reins for Sven to start that Hans finally broke the silence.
"Here we go."
Anna stayed in bed as long as possible, but the awful, sick feeling in her stomach made it impossible for her to go back to sleep once she'd opened her eyes. She ended up getting dressed and heading down to breakfast early, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion.
Elsa was already present, sitting in front of an untouched bowl of oatmeal. Anna sat down across from her, but neither realized the discomfort of the other. Elsa's forehead was creased into a nervous frown, two little lines appearing between her eyebrows. She glanced over as the maid gave her sister a second bowl of oatmeal.
"So," the Queen said, finally breaking the silence. "Today's the day."
"Yep," Anna agreed, her voice overly cheery, although Elsa didn't notice.
"Kristoff's coming back to day," she said, trying to make conversation. "You must be happy."
"Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah, really happy. Just… so happy." She smiled a smile that was as forced as her tone. Elsa fiddled with her spoon, her expression one of barely suppressed dread. Anna, not knowing what else to say, stirred her oatmeal and tried to eat a bite. It tasted bland and flavorless.
The dining room doors opened suddenly, and each jumped a little, startled by the unexpected noise. A manservant in green entered and said, with a quick bow, "Your Majesties… your suitors have returned."
The two pairs met at the castle gates. Kristoff hopped out first, saying something to Hans. The prince nodded and got out as well, and Kristoff led Sven and the sled up to the two royals.
Elsa's face was inscrutable, a mask of taciturn aloofness. Hans curled his gloved hands reflexively, feeling all at once both too warm and too cold. He gave a formal bow. "Your Majesty."
"Prince Hans," she returned, in a voice that was cordial but not at all familiar.
Hans cleared his throat. "If you'll pardon me, I'd like to go change into more suitable attire."
"Naturally." The conversation was so stilted and rigid that it seemed it could snap at any moment. "I believe I'll be going as well; I have some work to do." They both disappeared inside the castle again, heading in opposite directions and leaving Anna and Kristoff to stand there alone.
The two looked at each other uncomfortably. "Um, hey," Anna said finally, breaking the ice.
"Hey." He hesitated, and then said, "How are you?"
"Fine." She noticed suddenly that there were bandages poking out from the gap between his boot and his pants, and her eyes flew wide. "Oh my gosh, what happened?"
"It was my own fault, really; a pack of wolves snuck up on me while I wasn't paying attention and thought I'd make a good dinner," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just lucky Hans was nearby; he fended them off."
"Oh. Well…I'm glad you're okay."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair. Finally, Kristoff sighed. "Look, um…I acted…the things I said were…" He bit his tongue. "Anna, I'm sorry. I was a jerk. I've been acting like a jerk for a while."
"I'm sorry too. We both, um, crossed some lines."
"Listen, while I was out there, I got to thinking," Kristoff said awkwardly, "and…even though this isn't going to work out, I…I still think you're a great person, one of the best people I know. So…"
"So… friends?" Anna offered hesitantly.
Kristoff nodded, relieved that she'd understood. "Yeah. Friends."
She managed to smile a little at that. "Okay."
He nodded in the direction of the stables. "I gotta go unhitch Sven."
"Alright. I'll see you later."
After a moment's pause, they, too, parted ways. Anna breathed a sigh of mixed sadness and relief. Friends.
Kristoff was just rolling up the sleeve cuffs of his good shirt when the clock outside his room chimed half-past. He ran a hand through his unruly blond hair and glanced in the mirror.
Even to him, his appearance seemed pretty plain. A clean blue shirt, a dark vest and his boots were all the finery he had. Though he was—well, had been—engaged to a princess, and therefore a prospective heir to the throne should anything unfortunate happen to Elsa, he'd always felt extremely uncomfortable allowing Anna to use the crown's funds to provide him with anything he couldn't pay for himself. The sled had been one thing—he'd worked and saved for two years for that sled, and she'd been the reason it got destroyed—but her attempts to gift him with a new set of clothes or pair of boots had always left him feeling a little embarrassed. He'd usually managed to dissuade her from her well-meant attempts at generosity, and so in the end he really only owned only a two sets of good clothes for Sunday church, and three for workdays. He'd never needed any more before he'd come to the castle, and he doubted he'd need any more when he left.
Leaving… it was the first time the idea of leaving the castle had really struck him. Although he and Anna had agreed to remain friends, he was no longer her fiancé and therefore definitely not entitled to whatever niceties the Queen and Princess had provided for him for the last few months because of that. It was the first time he'd had a real home, with a roof and a bed, for more than a decade and a half, and the truth was he knew he was going to miss it. The servants, cooks and even the Queen herself had become his friends, even something sort of like an extended human family, a luxury he'd never had. Without them, he wasn't quite sure what he'd do with himself out in the wide world again.
You'll get by, he told himself. You always did before; you will again.
Get by…and be lonely. Anna was the first girl who'd ever really glanced twice in his direction; among the village girls, few to none would consider marrying a dirt-poor ice harvester like him, and the local farm and forest girls knew well enough, or could at least guess, the sort of parentage he had, just by looking at him. Poverty and prejudice taught little kids grown-up lessons, and he'd learned rather quickly to keep to himself. Sure, he was friendly with the other ice harvesters, but the townspeople had always held him at a businessman's arm's-length away, and he them. Anna had brought him out of that isolation, not merely on a romantic level but on a broader, relational one; it was impossible not to make friends with people when she was around. Now it seemed he was destined to go right back into it.
He was startled from his thoughts by the lilting chimes of the clock once again, and realized that he'd wasted a whole fifteen minutes on reminiscing. That's enough self-pity for today, he told himself, quickly buttoning his vest. No one was ever helped by complaining. You'll get by. And with that thought, he hurried out the door.
The last hymn ended just as the bishop pushed the chapel doors open, and the parishioners broke into conversation now that church was over. Elsa listened idly as the townsfolk discussed work and Christmas plans—and, of course, the wedding.
The wedding. Elsa was somehow surprised at how real it felt. Despite the facts that she of course knew it was fake and that she had left all the choices on cakes or decorations up to Anna, the countless well-wishers and having to organize the palace for the continued influx of visitors had made the whole ersatz-engagement feel incredibly genuine. Thankfully, the last of the scheduled nobles had arrived several days previous while Kristoff and Hans were gone, and she'd managed to situate them into the correct guest rooms, as well as all the soldiers into the normally unused barrack on palace grounds.
"Elsa?" A hand shook her shoulder, and the Queen glanced up, startled. Anna was looking at her with slight concern. "Church is over. We should go…"
"Right, of course." She stood up hastily, embarrassed. Her head was still working on everything she had left to do- was everyone comfortable? Had there been any complaints?- and she was so pensive that she didn't even notice the way the rest of the villagers had gathered around outside, murmuring in low, confused tones. It wasn't until she'd nearly bumped into one of them that she finally realized something had happened.
"Pardon me, excuse me," she said, moving through the crowds as they stepped aside for her. She stopped when she reached the door, her eyes going wide in surprise.
"Your Majesty!" Willum said, looking over. "Just look at it! I've never seen anything like it before."
Elsa's eyes had narrowed again into a troubled frown. The storm had arrived, as she'd predicted. But it was…strange, somehow.
Even as the crowds watched, the thick, dark clouds moved across the mid-morning sun, turning the whole town as dark as dusk.
"It's getting colder, Elsa," Anna said with obvious worry, looking towards the window.
"I know." The Queen was standing at the window as her sister, Kristoff and Hans finished their lunches. "These clouds are thicker than any I've ever seen—or created. They're blocking out the sun almost completely. And snow can't be far behind."
"I told my guys to come in by noon," Kristoff said, pushing his chair back with concern. "I sure hope they listened."
As if summoned by the words, the door to the dining room opened suddenly, and Kai poked his head in. "Sir Kristoff, there's a man here to see you. He says it's urgent."
A much larger man entered the room. "Kristoff, you'll never believe it, I-" He stopped suddenly, noticing the three royals. "Oh, uh, yer Majesties," he said gruffly, and gave a quick bow.
"Never mind that; just tell us what's happened," Elsa said hurriedly.
"Right, 'o course. Well, I can't really explain it, Ma'am, but—well, we all started back 'round ten, just like you told us, Kristoff, an' on the way these soldiers caught up to us. Said they were from the northern outposts, on the way in on orders of the Queen."
"Of course; go on," she urged.
"Well anyways, they ask if they can join our group, since they've been riding like mad an' the horses need a rest an' all. So we tell 'em sure, and ask why they been runnin' so hard. An' they says to us, 'Well we ain't ne'er seen anything like it. We were comin' anyways, but we left in a big hurry when we saw it.' An' so o' course we ask what it was they saw. An' they says, yer Majesty, they says, 'Well the blizzard, 'o course. Couldn't hardly miss it, could we? Strangest thing; snow coming in like a wave off th' sea. Ain't seen no blizzard this bad since the Great Freeze, but this was even bigger than that—' Oh, beggin' yer pardon, Queen Elsa," he said quickly, realizing he might've offended her.
"No need to apologize; please, just continue."
"So then we sees the clouds comin' in, an' the soldiers, they start to panic an' all an' says, 'Well we knew it, here it comes, ain't ne'er gonna stop, not 'til all the world's snowed over.' An' they spurred the horses an' we followed just as fast as we all could, an' so here we are."
Elsa nodded, face creased with a worried frown. "Thank you very much, Mr.-"
"Jorgensen, yer Majesty, Sigurd Jorgensen."
"Mr. Jorgensen. You've been very helpful."
"O' course, yer Majesty. Best o' luck." He gave a quick bow and then left.
"Snow coming in like a wave off the sea," Elsa repeated, troubled. "I've never heard of anything like it."
"I've seen something similar, just once," Hans volunteered. "When you fell on the fjords, just after–" He caught himself, "–Just after I approached you, the storm retreatead in almost the same way."
"That much snow could collapse houses; folks could get lost on their own doorsteps, or get trapped in their homes," Kristoff said, running the scenario in his head. "People could get seriously hurt. And if it's moving that fast–"
"–Then everyone in this town is in danger," Anna finished.
The four looked at each other, and all personal reservations were suddenly set aside. Elsa hurried to the doors and threw them open. "Kai!" she called.
The manservant hurried up. "Your Majesty?"
"There's a blizzard coming in, a large one and very dangerous. We need to warn the people now, before-"
"Elsa!" Anna suddenly cried.
The Queen whirled around, and her blue eyes flew wide as she saw what Anna had seen. Drifting down outside the window were the first hints of snowflakes.
"Elsa, you need to do something!" Hans urged.
She closed her blue eyes tight, thinking. "I-I can't send it away. But I might be able to hold it at bay for a little while." She opened her eyes again. "Get everyone inside the palace, all the villagers. There'll be enough room, just barely, but we'll have to house some in the great hall. I'll hold the storm off as long as I can."
Hans gave a short, sharp nod. "Let's go."
The courtyard just inside the palace gates was packed to the brimming, with dozens of families waiting on the bridge beyond. Hans was busy giving orders to a team of servants, who ran back and forth between the gate and the castle. "Tell the kitchens to start making ration food—hot glog, stew, the like—and start setting up any spare guest rooms. If there are single wedding guests staying in the castle, move them into shared rooms," he commanded.
"Yes, Prince Hans," the servants quickly agreed, hurrying away.
Elsa looked over at him, her expression somewhere between impressed and strained. Her hands were lifted up in front of her, and a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, as if she were holding back some massive weight. She managed to spare a moment to say, "You certainly know what you're doing."
"I've done this before," he reminded her. "How are you holding up?"
She grimaced, and he nodded, concerned. "If you need anything, just let me know."
"Will do," she agreed wearily, and then closed her eyes again and gritted her teeth.
"The guest rooms are all stocked with blankets and firewood," one of the servants said, running up to the prince. "And the yule log has been chopped up for the great hall's fireplace."
"Then start filling them, large families first. When we run out, fill the great hall. And open the royal stables for anyone who brings livestock."
"Prince Hans, I must object, and quite strongly, too!" said one of the visiting aristocrats, looking extremely indignant. "Are you truly implying that the nobility will have to share the castle with the peasantry?"
Hans rounded on him with a fierceness that made the man shrink back. "That is exactly what I'm saying. Arendelle is in crisis; all of the royal family's resources are at the people's disposal. If that doesn't suit your standards, you are perfectly welcome to leave."
The nobleman gulped. "No. No, I didn't—that is—we would not want to miss the wedding for something as inconsequential as this."
"Hm. Somehow I thought not. Alright! Large families first, four or more children to the front! Smaller families follow! Anyone with spare resources, please, bring them to the castle; you will be compensated after the crisis has passed!"
"This way, please," Anna said kindly, urging one of the larger families inside the castle. "We have a room ready for you. Follow Gerda here; Kristoff will take your cow to the stables."
"Alright, next family. Name? Thank you. Now just–" The prince stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. "That's incredible."
"What?" Kristoff said from beside him, holding a rope attached to a milk cow's collar.
"Look." He nodded to the sky, and the ice harvester and the princess both glanced upwards.
"Oh, wow," Anna breathed, eyes wide. All overtop the town, snow flew in a huge arc, darkening the sky so much that it seemed like dusk. It was as if an invisible dome were keeping the snow from descending upon the village and snuffing it out like a candle.
Elsa's eyes opened a fraction of an inch. "Hurry," she begged.
"Alright, folks, just follow the princess," Hans said quickly, returning to his job. "Next family!"
"Is that everyone?" Elsa demanded. They had managed to move her just inside the palace doors, though her hands were still up
"I have a town census right here; everyone is accounted for," Hans assured her.
"And the farming families? The woodsmen?"
"They've all arrived, as well."
She gave the barest of nods and commanded, "Close the gates."
The servants hurried to comply, shutting the great doors from which spilled in the bitter cold. Elsa lowered her hands an inch, then an inch more. Finally, she let out a large breath and dropped them together.
The room was dead silent for about two seconds, with no change except that outside, the world seemed to grow darker.
Then the blizzard slammed against the windows from every direction, rattling the glass in its panes and making everyone jump in fright. The winds howled and the snow blotted out any light once visible from beyond the castle walls. Thankfully, the glass held, and Elsa let out a relieved sigh. She tried to take a step back and tripped from exhaustion, but Hans caught and steadied her before she could fall over. "Thank you," she breathed hoarsely. "I- I think I need to sit down. No, not here," she said, as a servant gestured to a waiting bench nearby. "Get me upstairs, to the great hall."
Anna hurried over to help, and with the aid of her sister and Hans, Elsa managed to walk upstairs to the ballroom, where she quickly sat down on her wooden throne. She surveyed the scene with dismay. The guest rooms hadn't been enough, and at least twenty families and a handful of assorted bachelors had all been packed into the great hall, setting up camp on cots and spare mattresses. Several servants were handing out food and blankets. "Fantastic," Elsa groaned. "This is just what we needed."
"Hey, it's okay," Anna said consolingly. "It's just a storm; it'll blow over soon."
"I hope so," she agreed tiredly, and tried to stand up. "I should probably start helping–"
"Don't be foolish," Hans said sternly, pushing her gently down again by the shoulder. "You stay here and rest; I'll pass out supplies."
"But-"
"Your fainting won't help anyone; if you really want to be of assistance, the best thing you can do is recover your strength. I have the feeling you're going to need it."
Elsa glowered at him, but had to concede that he was right. "Fine. But I don't like it when people out-reason me, you know."
"What a shame; I rather enjoy out-reasoning you." At her continued irritation, his tone softened. "Rest, Elsa." He walked away and spoke to a servant, who handed him a pile of woolen blankets.
She sighed and did as told, glancing to one of the windows. Her frown grew darker as she watched the sky outside do the same. One-o-clock in the afternoon, and it already looked like sundown outside. Something was very, very wrong.
Elsa wasn't the only one who thought so. In the corner, Kai caught Willum and Gerda by the shoulder. "We need to talk," he said firmly. The two glanced at each other, a knowing look in their eyes, and they followed him into the corridor.
Kai hastily closed the door into the great hall and glanced around, checking to make sure no one else was listening. When he was quite sure they were alone, he said, "We need to tell her."
"We can't," Gerda replied sharply. "We swore an oath, Kai!"
"The king never would have wanted us to keep the oath in a circumstance like this!"
"We don't know that!"
"What does it matter? We have to tell the Queen!" He began to pace fretfully. "This is her doing, it has to be!"
"But why now?" Gerda demanded. "After all these years…she has always known of the Queen's powers; after all, she was the one responsible for them."
"I don't know why or how, I just know that it is. It'd be treason to not tell the Queen!" Kai said vehemently.
"It would be treason if we did!"
"We have no choice! Surely if there were ever a time to break our word, it would be now!"
"Well, Willum?" Gerda said, rounding on the bishop. "Have you nothing to say on the matter?"
He held up his hands defensively. "I don't get involved in lovers' spats."
Gerda's glare became fiercer. "Willum."
"I'm sorry, I know, it's not a laughing matter." The bishop began to pace, frowning deeply. Finally, he said, "We've held our tongues this long; we can hold them a few days more. If the storm doesn't blow over by the wedding, we'll know it's the Snow Queen's doing and we'll tell Elsa. If it does, then we won't have needlessly broken our promise."
The three looked around at each other. Gerda's mouth was tight. "I don't like it."
"I know," Willum sighed. "Neither do I. But there's nothing else for it."
Gerda shuddered. "Just…the thought of her. It makes me feel cold all over."
"That makes two of us," Kai said grimly. Gerda took his hand in hers gently, her fire gone, and he gave her a tired, grateful smile.
"So we're agreed then," Willum said firmly. "No one tells the Queen until we know for certain." Kai and Gerda glanced at each other, and then each gave a nod. "Good. Now we should probably get back to work."
The three disappeared back inside the great hall, even as outside the castle walls, the winds continued to howl. The children cowered, the villagers spoke in hushed, uneasy tones, and the good Queen watched it all with a worried gaze, fearing for her people's safety.
And somewhere far, far north, the Snow Queen sat upon her icy throne, and laughed.
A/N: And the storm finally reaches Arendelle. I hope you enjoyed it; R&R!