Chapter Thirty-Nine
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.
"Alright, how far are we now?" Anna said as the sled flew around a switchback, trying to squint at the map in the light from the swinging lantern.
"On a guess? Half an hour from the top. We should reach it just before midnight."
"Are you sure? Maybe there's a shortcut-"
"Anna, I know this mountain like the back of my hand; there's no shortcut," Kristoff replied, as they ricocheted around another corner.
"Every minute we waste is another minute my sister could be dead!"
"Yeah, well, I'm worried too, but I'm getting us there as fast as I can!" he snapped, a little offended.
"You can hardly see anything in this blizzard; how do you know there's not another way?" she demanded.
"I know, okay?!"
"How do you know?!"
"I just know!" He yanked the reigns tight around the next turn- so tight that horse and reindeer were thrown off their guard, and the sled tipped and nearly skittered off the stone path down the cliff. The harvester let out a yelp and managed to right it, but not before he heard the scream that made his blood run cold. He pulled the sled to a halt. "ANNA!"
The princess (who had been thrown from her seat when the sled tipped) had managed to grab on to the edge of the sled and was hanging on for dear life, letting out a little screams as her gloved hands began to slip. "Hold on, I got you," Kristoff said, pulling her up into the sled. Anna clung to his arm, trembling, and Kristoff held her as tight as he dared. "Are you alright?" he asked urgently.
"I-I think so," she stammered, peeking over the edge. She shuddered as she looked at the drop, filled with the swirling, snowy winds that hid the bottom. "Maybe not so fast, huh?"
"Yeah, no kidding." He snapped the reins, still keeping one arm protectively around her. "Easy does it, boys." Sven and Sitron started off again, this time at more of a trot than a run. Anna's hands were still shaking as she gripped at his sleeve, and he felt absolutely awful for having put her in harm's way. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been running them so fast."
"No, it's my fault; I wasn't letting you pay attention. You're right, you know this mountain better than anyone; I should trust you."
His brown eyes were full of concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. I'm good." She took a deep breath. "Let's just…get up this mountain and find my sister, okay?"
Kristoff gave a humorless chuckle. "Talk about déjà vu."
Another twenty minutes passed before they broke through the cloud layer at the top of the mountain, and found themselves beneath a sky of coldly glittering stars. As Kristoff pulled the sled to a halt and they paused, drinking it in, something caught Anna's attention. "Look!" she said, pointing to a rock formation some ways away. Kristoff could faintly see orange firelight flickering from within the crevice, its source hidden by the snow-shrouded stones. "That might be Elsa!" the princess beside him exclaimed.
The pair hurried forward and around the rocks' edges to the formation's opening. Within they found not the queen, but something rather more interesting. "Hello, Kristoff, Anna!" a cheerful voice called.
"Olaf!" Anna cried, rushing forward and kneeling down to hug the animated snowman. "What are you doing out here? Where's Elsa—oh, wow!" she exclaimed, breaking her train of thought as she caught sight of Ovn and the dismembered Marshmallow.
"Hello," Ovn said shyly. "You must be Princess Anna and Sir Kristoff." She gave a little curtsy.
"This is Ovn!" Olaf said with obvious pride, as though he were the discoverer of some rare masterpiece. "Isn't she amazing?"
"Hans made you, right?" Kristoff said, dropping to a knee beside the little fire-being, who nodded.
"I think he was trying to scare away the angry men with the arrows, but I'm afraid I'm not very frightening," she said, blushing.
"But she's so pretty!" Olaf practically gushed. "I mean, gee, compared to her, this perfectly formed physique of mine looks like a misshapen lump!"
Anna tried to stifle a giggle. "She's lovely, Olaf. I mean, you're lovely," she repeated to Ovn. Then, she grew more serious. "Have you seen my sister?"
"She went up to the palace a few hours ago. We haven't seen her since," said Ovn, golden eyes frowning with worry. "I hope she's okay. I wonder if she found Uncle."
"If she's not alright, then we'll help her," Anna said resolutely, standing up. "Don't worry, guys; we'll save my sister if it's the last thing we do!"
"But preferably, it won't be," Kristoff added, getting to his feet as well. "You guys stay safe. And watch over Sven and Sitron for us, okay?"
"You got it!" Olaf promised. As the pair walked away, they heard him say, "So this is Sven, and this is Sitron! Ooh, do you want to hear about the day Sven tried to steal my nose?"
Anna giggled again, and Kristoff couldn't help but grin. It was pretty clear that the snowman was smitten with the little fire-being.
They walked a little ways more before finding themselves before the castle. Anna instantly knew something was wrong just by its appearance; the whole structure seemed to have been punctured by large icicles, and two great ice-sculptures stood at either side of the staircase. She whistled low and hurried towards the stairs.
This was a mistake—in fact, it was a major mistake. Almost instantly, the two ice statues sprang to life and raised their battleaxes menacingly. Anna skidded to a stop in the snow. "Whoa."
"Anna-" Kristoff said, starting forward, but he was too late: without warning, one of the guards reached down and grabbed Anna about the waist with his jagged ice-talon fingers. Anna let out an angry cry. "Hey! Put me down!"
The statue grinned. And then it did as told. Kristoff had a split second's image of his former fiancée flying through the air like a redheaded rag doll, before Anna sailed over his head and landed hard on the ground behind him. "Anna!" he yelled, running to her side. Her pink bonnet had been knocked clean off, but Kristoff was grateful to see that she was still moving. "Anna, are you alright?" he demanded.
"You mean other than the fact that I'm seeing three of you?" she asked dazedly, sitting up and raising a hand to her head. "Ooh, that hurt…"
A sudden noise made him look over. The ice-giants had started towards them again, hefting their axes for a fight. Kristoff looked at them. He looked at Anna, who was gingerly touching her head with a grimace of pain.
And then, he got mad.
"Alright, you oversized popsicles," he growled, getting to his feet and pulling his pickaxe out of his belt. "I've had just about enough of you. You think you're tough? You think I'm going down without a fight? Well think again, because I am Kristoff Bjorgman, knight of Arendelle and official Ice Master and Deliverer, and you attacked the wrong princess!"
"Kristoff, no!" Anna cried, as the harvester charged the guards with nothing but his ice pick. The ice giants, recognizing this as an act of aggression, swung their battleaxes like massive deadly pendulums, but Kristoff dodged the blows, ducking and weaving in between until he'd reached one of the guard's legs. Before it could move, he'd brought down the pick on the giant's knee with all the strength and skill of a man who broke ice for a living.
The giant roared with pain as the ice fractured. He swiped at the harvester with his claws, but Kristoff ducked out of the way and hit him again. He continued to strike with the ice pick until the leg fractured completely, and the giant stumbled sideways and crashed into his partner. They careened sideways and tumbled into the chasm below, vanishing under the cloud-layer. Their howls echoed for a moment in the winter air, and then faded away.
Kristoff turned back to the princess, still breathing heavily. Anna was staring at him in shock. "You okay?" he asked concernedly, hurrying over to her.
"Y-yeah, I think so," she stammered, getting to her feet.
"You've probably got a concussion, maybe you should just wait here–"
"No, I'm alright. Um… that- that was really brave," she said, suddenly feeling very shy. "So…thanks."
"Uh, yeah," Kristoff said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "No problem."
They stood there for a moment, both blushing, though neither really knew why. After a moment, the princess suddenly remembered why they were at the castle in the first place. "Oh! Right, we should probably go in, shouldn't we?"
"Yeah, that might be a good idea," Kristoff agreed. They hurried off towards the stairs again, glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes and wondering what exactly had just happened.
The villagers all stood and turned to look as the bishop entered the great hall through the side doors, clad in his white miter and cope, with his gold crosier in hand. Behind him followed two acolytes in their albs, one swinging the thurible as the scent of frankincense filled the air. Without music, without instruments, the congregation began to chant the hymn in unison, voices filling the air with a hope that could not be quenched by the darkness beyond the hallowed walls.
"Deilig er jorden,
prektig er Guds himmel,
skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsgang!"
The bishop approached the makeshift altar at the front of the hall and kissed it reverently. This was his hope. This was his providence.
"Gjennom de fagre
riker på jorden
går vi til paradis med sang!"
Oh, my children, never forget the power of a simple prayer! Be it one that falls from the lips of small children or those of an old, gray man, a prisoner and criminal or a saint of purest virtue, He who sees and hears all things will surely hear the prayers of those who love Him. And so it was that cold, dark night, as the frightened yet hopeful faithful kept the Christmas Vigil, and their hymn reached the God of both peasants and kings. Their songs rose to Heaven, and on the mountain far beyond, the beauty of this prayer filled even the silence of the room in which sat a weeping queen. Though she heard it not, it filled the frozen air around her, brushing against the pages of the hymnal that lay beside her on the ground. And the rose within the pages, covered by an icy casing of malice and fear, felt something within its sacred heart respond to the sacred hymn of the masses far below, and came to life once more, flushing red as if in the bloom of springtime. The ice around it warmed, and then split with a sharp crack!
The castle was eerily silent as Kristoff and Anna walked through the front doors. They paused a moment to look around the destroyed entryway. "Whoa," Anna murmured, taking a step forward, and then let out another, "Whoa!" as she slipped on several scattered beads of ice.
"I got you." Ever-vigilant Kristoff quickly caught her under the arms, and Anna let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks." She glanced at a nearby icicle jutting from the ground and shuddered. "Let's keep going."
"Good idea. Up and in?"
"Up and in," she agreed. Both turned towards the staircase, but pulled to an abrupt halt as a loud plink! sounded in the icy hall. The bead on which she'd slipped struck the far wall and rolled away harmlessly.
The sound of its roll was drowned by a loud grinding noise, as from the icy floor there grew great mirror-like walls, cutting off the rest of the room. Anna clutched at her cloak nervously. "Kristoff, what's going on?"
"On a guess? I'd say nothing good."
The walls rose and rose to the distant ceiling, and then their growth slowly ground to a halt. For a long moment, there was dead silence. "I think it stopped," Anna whispered. She found that she was looking at a reflection of herself, seemingly superimposed on the balcony beyond the wall. At first, it seemed quite ordinary—until she noticed a very odd peculiarity about the mirror. "That's funny," she said slowly.
"Trust me, Anna, nothing is funny about this situation," Kristoff responded tersely.
"No, not funny-funny. Look." He glanced over, and she added, "See? My reflection's there…but yours isn't."
"So they're mirrors?" Kristoff reasoned. "But where am I?" He turned around, confused, and then his eye caught another figure, this one just before the hallway, dressed in gray furs and with a pickaxe at his side. "Oh. There I am. Creepy." He put one hand on his axe, wary. "You look that way, I'll watch this way. That way, nothing can sneak up on us."
"Gotcha."
They quickly went back to back. Anna watched her own reflection nervously. When nothing any stranger happened, she inched forward, biting her lip. Kristoff did the same, knife at the ready.
Anna reached out a hand to the ice. Her reflection did the same. Hesitantly, she touched the glass, her fingers seeming to brush against those of her double. She looked into her own green-blue eyes, frowning in confusion.
Then, her reflection smiled. "Hello, Anna."
She jumped away. "Wh-what-"
"Now is that the kind of greeting I get? Not even a 'Hi' back? Ru-ude." Her other self rolled her eyes and blew a stray strand of hair out of her face in a manner that was very similar to the princess's own mannerisms, but somehow also very foreign.
Anna's mistrust and fear began to grow. This was her, but not her. Something was very, very wrong. Even as she watched, the scenery behind her other self became Anna's own bedroom in the Arendelle palace. "To be totally honest, this isn't a great time," the reflection said, clearly irritated. "My husband's late, my kids are driving me insane, and seriously, I've had it up to here with the whole idea of family, they're such a nuisance!"
She began to pace, waving her hands in an angry rant as the real Anna's heart began to pound. "I never have time for myself these days; you know I haven't gotten out of the castle in months? All I do is change diapers, nurse babies and listen to their whining! And Kristoff's no help when he gets home! I don't know why I ever got married; what good has it ever done me, anyways?"
Behind her, Kristoff (who was entirely oblivious to the princesses' dialogue), warily reached out and knocked on the glass. His reflection did the same, and then frowned, annoyed. "What're you looking at?" he asked harshly.
The real Kristoff's mouth dropped open. His alter glared at him. "Come to make fun of me, huh? Figures. Well I haven't got time for this; I've got a meeting in twenty minutes and I still haven't got any idea what it's about!" He threw up his hands, pacing angrily in front of the desk that had suddenly materialized in a perfect replica of the castle library. "You're really the icing on the cake today, you know that? The council already thinks I'm a joke, my own kids are ashamed of me and I'm pretty sure my wife's looking to leave me, so the last thing I need is your input on how I should be doing my job!"
"I- I just-" Kristoff stammered.
"Oh, I'm sorry; were those words too big for you?" his double spat. "Figures; you look just about as stupid as I am. But that doesn't stop you from coming to gawk, does it?" He sneered angrily. "You think I don't know what people say about me? Kristoff Bjorgman, the Half-Wit Prince! The half-blooded oaf, isn't that right? The princess's biggest mistake!" The real Kristoff stepped back, rebuffed by the hateful words. "A nobody! Less than nobody! Worthless!"
Behind him, Anna pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, a sob escaping through her fingers as her eyes filled with tears. Her reflection had turned and retreated to the background, taking the form of a shadow. "Where have you been?!" she heard her own voice screech shrilly from the mirror, as her figure shouted at a Kristoff-shaped silhouette, his head hung low. "These brats have been driving me crazy all day, but you're never around to help! Some husband you are, you lazy, stupid oaf!"
She backed away, shaking her head as the tears ran down her cheeks. "I wish I'd never met you, Kristoff!" screamed her reflection. "I wish these children weren't even mine! I wish you were all gone for good! None of you are worth my time!"
Both she and Kristoff pulled away from the mirrors, trying to break away from their fears but unable to do anything but watch, watch as they destroyed their own lives, their family, their kingdom–
And then suddenly, their hands bumped against each other's, and both turned, startled. Without thinking, without planning, each pulled the other into their arms.
Anna watched as in Kristoff's mirror, the shadow of her fiancé raved a list of self-depreciating insults, while Kristoff saw the silhouette of his beloved shriek and screech in ways the true Anna never had. "Is that what you're afraid of?" Kristoff said, stunned. "That you'll be a bad mother? A bad wife?"
"And you a bad prince? Kristoff, did you really think we'd let you go into this on your own?" Anna asked.
They drew back, just enough to look in each other's eyes. "Anna, I don't– I don't belong in your court," Kristoff said hoarsely. "I'm sorry, I tried, I really did, but I just–"
"We weren't expecting you to be perfect at it right away," she insisted. "Learning how to be royalty takes time; you'll have advisors, tutors, people to help you." But he was shaking his head. "Kristoff..."
"Anna, I can't. I can't be a king, I can't even be a good prince. I'm just me."
"Just the...half-blooded oaf."
He nodded. Silence settled over them, the shrieks fading into the background.
"Did I...ever make you feel that way?" she whispered.
"You didn't...want me to wear my coat, out in public." He couldn't meet her eyes, because there were tears in his; he had never felt so humiliated. He had never wanted her to see this side of him, the insecure, stupid, pathetic part that listened to it all. The part that, despite himself...believed it.
But then her arms were around his neck, and his eyes went wide. "Anna...?"
"I'm sorry," she said into his chest. Her muffled voice sounded choked. "I'm so, so sorry. I never realized—of course you took it that way." She drew back. "Kristoff, I love who you are," she insisted, tears rolling down her cheeks. "All of you, not just the parts that make my life easier." He looked doubtful, and she poked his chest. "Do you know why I fell in love with you? Because you're smart and kind and dedicated to everything you do. Exactly the kind of man who'd make a great prince. And I should never have made you feel rejected like that."
"It wasn't just your fault," he insisted. "I-I know, that I shouldn't take what people say so seriously, but..." She brushed his tears away with her thumb. He looked past her to her reflection in the mirror. "Anna...what made you think you'd be a bad mother?" he said, bewildered.
It was her turn to look at her feet. "I..."
"Anna?"
"You...said it best." She shrugged, looking as if she were trying to shrink as she wiped her eyes with her gloves. "I, ehm, wouldn't know responsibility, o-or maturity, if it jumped up and bit me in the nose." She tried to laugh, but it came out broken.
He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up. "I was a jerk," Kristoff said seriously. "I let my own worries spill over onto you, and I'm sorry for that. Anna, you're not irresponsible, or immature."
"But I'm childish, and I like—stupid fairytales, and chocolate, and–"
"You're not childish, you like having fun. There's a big difference."
"But what if I can't be myself, once I'm married?" she confessed. "If I have to give up who I am—Kristoff, I don't think I can do that, and what if that means I wouldn't be a good mom or I'd take it out on you or– or–"
"Anna, I would never ask you to give up who you are. I want to marry you, not some perfectly-polite-wife-ish version of you. Whatever that would look like," he added with a shudder, and she gave a watery giggle. "You think I'd just abandon you in the castle with the kids to do whatever I want? Does that sound like me?"
"Well...no, not really..."
"And who you are is not irresponsible," he insisted. "Anna, I saw how hard this was on you, pretending to still be engaged and helping everyone else keep hope when you were in so much pain yourself. Even if nobody else saw it, I did."
"You did?" she whispered, eyes sparkling with tears.
"When your people needed you, you stepped up, even when it was hard. You always have." She bit her lip hard. "You're kind, and loving, and one of the most loyal people I know," he said seriously. "And you don't have to be Elsa to be a good princess, or a good mother."
Anna's mouth fell open. "How did you–"
"Because I know you, feistypants." He grinned at her, even if it was a watery grin. "And you're going to be a great mom someday, and—and I think you'd make a great wife, too. If that's what you want."
She smiled tearfully and nodded. "A-and I think you'd make a great prince."
He swallowed hard, and then pulled her in close. They embraced each other tightly, eyes closed shut as each held the other. It was for this reason that they didn't see the icy mirrors slowly start to crack, a little at first, and then more and more, until finally they shattered altogether and fell to the floor.
Startled by the sudden noise, each looked up and then around in wonder. "Did we do that?" Anna questioned, surprised.
"I think so," Kristoff agreed.
They looked at each other, and each began to laugh in awe and relief. Before either really knew what was happening, Kristoff took Anna by the cheek and kissed her, with a passion. She kissed him back with equal fervor. When they pulled away, both were smiling with deep happiness and the sense that finally, things were back how they ought to be. Then, Anna's smile suddenly faded. "Elsa," she said grimly.
Kristoff nodded. "Let's go."
The Mass ended with the final verse of Eg Veit i Himmerik ei Borg, and Willum allowed the acolytes to quickly collect the Mass vessels and purificators, gathering them in his arms. "I'll be back soon," he assured Kai and Gerda. "Everyone should start readying to leave by morning."
"We'll tell them," Kai assured him. The bishop gave a short, almost bird-like nod, and then hurried out of the great hall, the gleaming sacred vessels in hand. He was just about to descend the staircase to the lower floor of the castle when, from out beyond a nearby window, something very strange caught his eye.
It has been noted that the thick snow had obscured all lights from the village beyond the bridge, not that there was anyone in the houses to have lit a lamp in any case. So, naturally, all beyond the frosted panes of glass, there should have been nothing save that impenetrable darkness and the howling of the wind. And yet—and yet, inexplicably, the bishop saw very distinctly with his old gray eyes, a gold and scarlet light growing in the darkness.
Frowning in confusion, he shifted a few of the chalices to rest against the other arm and breathed on the glass, wiping the frost away with the sleeve of his cassock. The image grew sharp and clear; even beyond the great gusts of flying snow, it became horridly apparent that—Mater Dei!—the town was ablaze!
His eyes flew wide as he searched for the source. Beyond the window, in the crackling heat of several shops set ablaze, a single figure stood, fists clenched in rage, red beard bristling with sparks, eyes burning with a cold fury.
The bishop hardly noticed as the sacred vessels crashed to the ground, ringing with a harsh metallic noise as several ciboriums went tumbling down the staircase. He rushed back to the ballroom and cried out, "Call the guards! Sound the alarm!"
Every head in the hall snapped to look at him as he continued to shout for the guards. Kai hurried up to him. "Willum! What in Heaven's name-!"
"He's here," the bishop gasped. "He's headed for the castle!"
"Who is headed for the castle?"
"The king!" Several people blinked, and he elaborated frantically, "The Southern King! But something's gone terribly wrong-"
"Look!" a voice by the windows screamed, and the crowd seemed to move in unison towards the glass doors of the terraces.
"It's the king!"
"Wh-what's happened to him?!"
"He'll burn the whole town down!"
Willum tore from the room, down the stairs and outside into the snow. The first gust of wind nearly knocked him over, but he didn't dare stop, not even for a moment. Through the chapel doors, into the sacristy, up the back staircase to the bell-tower he ran. He grabbed hold of the nearest rope and began to ring the church bells as loudly and harshly as he could.
A ways away, he saw the burning figure look up, startled. Then, even from that distance, he watched as the king's face hardened, seething with rage at the sound of the bells. Willum rang them all the harder, even as Kai and Gerda stumbled up the stairs behind him.
Just as he'd hoped, the panicked ringing had alerted the guards in the palace barracks, and the soldiers came storming out into the courtyards in droves, crossing the bridge into the town. "Thank goodness," Gerda sighed behind him. Willum didn't say a word, holding his breath.
His reserve soon proved to be not unwarranted. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around the king, and surely, they would have fought bravely, had they had the chance. Before they could so much as level their crossbows, however, Agnar threw his hands out wide. Twin walls of flame erupted on either side. Another flaming sphere forced the guards directly in front of him to dive out of the way to avoid sure and sudden death, leaving the king a direct pathway to the bridge—and the castle. To their credit, several tried to shoot through the walls of fire, but the arrows were incinerated instantly- as would have been anyone who'd attempted to rush through the billowing flames.
Willum's mouth tightened, ad he made an executive decision, hurrying down the staircase into the sacristy again. Gerda and Kai started and followed. "Willum, what are you doing?" the housekeeper demanded.
"If he isn't stopped, he'll burn the castle to the ground and kill us all," the bishop said grimly, pulling on his cloak from a hook near the door. "Get everyone to the back door by the fjords; if all else fails, at least they'll stand a chance at getting out that way."
"Willum, what in the world do you intend to do?" Kai demanded. "The man is clearly bent on reducing this place to ashes; how could you possibly hope to stop him?"
"How else?" Fifty years of experience with wayward sinners shone in his gray eyes as he took his crosier in hand. "I'm going to talk him out of it."