A/N: Next update on our favorite two lovers is out! School's keeping me pretty busy these days, so that's why this one took a little longer.

Chapter 9

Deafening Silence

0o0o0o0

Silence was deafening. It blocked everything out; all sound, all noise, all words. It was the eraser of color.

For the thousandth time, she blinked up at the castle window. Agnarr stared out from his bedroom, down at her. Their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds, but immediately Iduna closed her eyes and sighed.

She was standing outside in a back doorway, lingering next to the dirt path that led to the fjord. A light drizzle of rain pattered down ever so softly, dripping down onto the floor and pooling around her feet. She kicked the ground. Ever since yesterday, a void had formed between her and Agnarr. An abyss that she had no idea how to cross. A wall stronger than the mist that separated their people.

It's better this way, her mind said again. It's okay.

Iduna stole another glance at the boy. He was hunched at a desk, leaning down casually, his head in his hands. He looked defeated. That's your fault too, her brain helpfully chipped in.

Someone entered the room from behind and gave him a document. He read whatever was on it, put it down on the desk, and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed him. Not knowing what to do, the person exited the room.

Iduna turned back to the path ahead of her. She should go. Now, while she still had the courage. If she didn't, she might never leave.

She was finally going home. After all this time, she would go back and face the "mist," or so everyone was calling it. Even if she had no idea what she was doing, it was better than wasting time here. Drooping her shoulders, she resisted the urge to look back for the thousand-and-secondth time and stepped forward.

Suddenly, a crash rang out. Iduna turned around and heard a guttural cry escape Agnarr's lips. His chair was overturned behind him, and papers had been thrown everywhere in his bedroom. He lunged forward, reaching a desperate hand out, but it looked like he'd missed whatever he was trying to get.

She furrowed her brow, confused. …Maybe his desk had exploded? Did he drop something?

Then she saw it. A neatly folded slip of paper, twirling around in the air as it floated gently towards the ground. She looked closer and recognized it as one of the brown notepad papers they had bought at the market.

Agnarr put his hands on his head and started pulling his hair. His eyes met hers, and an amused smile relaxed on her mouth. She read the message in his frantic gaze clear as day: Please help me help me help me Iduna please. Get it please.

Iduna squinted at the paper against the gray bricks of the castle walls. The light breeze in the air seemed to be buoying it up. Smiling inside, she realized she could play with him a little. If she wanted to.

But was it worth it?

Yeah. This could be the last chance she had to tease Agnarr, so she might as well make the most of it.

Sighing dramatically, she waltzed forward and pretended to walk as slowly as possible, to Agnarr's agonizing dismay. Her next move was to spin in a loopy circle, keeping an eye on the notepad as it drifted down.

A glance at Agnarr revealed his anguish. "Iduna…" he whimpered, covering his face with his hands. "Come on. Just get it. Please."

Finally, just as the pad was about to land in a puddle and melt away into the inky clearness that paper had a tendency to do, Iduna reached out and plucked it from the air.

"You need to calm down," she said to Agnarr, smirking nonchalantly. "I was gonna get there." She looked back at him, expecting a lighthearted laugh or a smart remark.

But he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Okay," he mumbled. She inwardly sighed. After all, she was leaving. And he knew it. They both knew it. The silence was deafening.

But then she pulled back the notepad's crinkly corners and saw what was inside. Agnarr's eyes shot open and he cried out in alarm. "Wait! Iduna! No, don't…"

There were notes. Notes everywhere. Though the notepad was small, it was crammed with information that could be read from every angle. A drawing of what appeared to be a stick. A slightly incorrect version of the symbol of the fire spirit. Words, phrases, sentences, floating around randomly like ice in a pitcher. Amid the jumble of scrawled handwriting, there were many words she didn't recognize. Most words she didn't recognize. But one she did. And it was repeated in almost every line.

Northuldra.

"Iduna, put that down. Stop, please don't read that…" Agnarr's face fell as she looked back at him, shocked. Why did he have these notes on her people? What did they say?

A terrible thought crossed her mind, exploding in realization and sending a shockwave of pain down her spine. After frantically rereading the notepad to confirm that she wasn't crazy, she stumbled back in horror. Was he behind it all? Is this proof of that? Her eyes flicked back to the boy in the window. Agnarr? No, it can't be...

"What is this?" she said, trembling slightly and holding the paper up. "Where… where did you get this?"

He cringed. "It's… nothing. Important. Nothing. I mean, nothing important."

Shaking, she shook her head in utter disbelief, not believing him. Not Agnarr. NOT Agnarr...

"Look, it just fell out of my desk, and it's, uh… something personal. Can you please stop reading it and come give it back to me?"

Iduna's heart wrenched. She looked back out at the fjord, weighing her options. It can wait. I need to know what this is. "Okay… but you have to tell me what it's about." Still in shock but struggling to regain her composure, she gave him a pointed look. He groaned and collapsed in his chair.

After she'd walked back into the castle, up the stairs, and into the hallway, he reached his hand out. Reluctantly, she dropped it into his open palm, then scrunched her eyebrows in anger. "Why is North-"

"Sshhhhh! Please," he gasped out, suddenly covering her mouth with his hand. His head swiveled left and right, praying that no one had been around to hear anything. "Just be quiet."

Frowning, she wrenched his hand away and made a big show of wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "Geesh, Your Majesty. Alright."

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds as he refolded the notepad and stuffed it into his pocket. Finally, after she couldn't bear the suspense any longer, she pressed him again. "So what is-"

"Shh," he silenced her again, then looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "The thing is… I- I-" He searched everywhere, then let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. "I can't tell you, Iduna. I'm sorry."

Her heart pounded. It can't have been him. Not Agnarr. No. No! "Agnarr…"

"No, really, I can't tell you. Please don't tell anyone you saw this. Or heard me say anything."

So he wasn't going to tell her? We'll see about that. Fighting her inner panic, she took on the placid look that had, so far, hid her so well in Arendelle. Conceal. Calm down.

After her breathing had slowed to a normal rate, she bared her teeth. If Agnarr truly had… done it, she was going to find out, once and for all. By now, Iduna was a master of self-disguise. It was time for a ruse.

Plastering a smirk on her face, she crossed her arms together and planted her feet firmly on the hallway rug. "Agnarr, tell me. Come on. Don't take all day."

He looked like he was about to explode. "Iduna! This isn't just a game! It's- Well, it's…" He trailed off.

She booped him on the nose, giggling. "What's the matter, silly? Reindeer got your tongue?"

He gave her a mixed look of contempt, indignation, and defeat all at the same time. He knew it was pointless. She'd never stop trying to get it out of him until he went mad.

He gave her an unamused stare, eyebrows as flat as the plains. "You're impossible."

She winked at him, but fear swam behind her eyes. "Ah, there he is. I'm listening."

0o0o0o0

He half-scowled at her again. How did she do this? She was extremely stubborn. Like no one he'd ever known. As if she wasn't even from Arendelle; she was so stubborn.

"Why is it always me telling you stuff? When are you ever going to let me in?" His mind flew back to their fight the day before. That had hurt; it truly had. That this girl was willing to accept everything he'd given her, and still she didn't trust him enough to share whatever conflicts she was suffering through herself. He just wanted to help.

But she didn't answer. Just gestured for him to start.

He groaned, then sighed. "Not out here."

Searching the hallway for one last all-clear look, he dragged her into his bedroom and shut the door behind them. Once the lock clicked in place, he breathed out a sigh of… what was it? Relief? Frustration? No, it wasn't relief. Did such a thing as a sigh of frustration even exist? Why on Earth was he doing this? This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea. It was, to be honest, a completely terrible idea. Such a terrible idea, in fact, that-

"Aggy…" Her sing-song voice broke through his inner rant. Moaning, he unfolded the paper again and gave it to her.

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he looked her in the eye. "Iduna, I trust you. Okay?" She nodded. "I'm trusting you right now. Please trust me. Please don't freak out."

This was it. It was now or never. He took a deep breath. Better to just put it out there, right?

"I think Northuldra is innocent."

0o0o0o0

Wait, what? Did he just say that? Were her ears working properly?

Multiple emotions were racing through her head. First, shock. Then, relief. Then, disbelief. Then, some more relief. They fiercely swirled around in her mind, threatening to break free and tumble out, like Vind on a particularly stormy day.

So Agnarr wasn't behind the battle? Or was he? What was going on?! No, he wasn't behind it. He wasn't. That much was clear. At this revelation, a shiver of snow, a light breath of cold air, and an anchor of dread lifted off her shoulders. She almost let out a "Thank the spirits!" but, luckily, she clamped her mouth shut in time.

So she did her best to remain calm, knowing that if she were to give the wrong reaction now, she would only be hurting Agnarr further. Thus, the only facial expressions that betrayed her surprise were her widened eyes and a furrowing of her brow.

"What do you mean?" she asked him lightly, struggling to keep her inner tsunami of questions and shouts at bay. This was not going to be easy.

Agnarr tilted his head questioningly at her, biting his lip. "You're… not surprised? At all?"

She rapidly shook her head. Too rapidly? "Uh, yeah, definitely. I'm surprised. Of course I am! But I, uh, I just want to hear what you have to say."

He gave her a strange look, then let out a deep sigh of relief, his teeth chattering in tense apprehension. "Thank God! Okay, I was so scared you'd be mad. Or angry. Or, wait—those mean the same thing. Nevermind! I'll just keep talking."

Iduna almost laughed out loud. Holy spirits. He sucks at concealing. Really, he was terrible.

But she didn't let it show. Instead, she hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, silently reassuring him. She could feel him relax at her touch. "Go on," she whispered.

With his left hand, he reached down and took hold of her other hand. She smiled, despite the circumstances. "Okay," he said to himself.

"Okay. So I think Northuldra is innocent. Even when I first woke up from being brought back, I was confused. Not everything matched up. In fact, I- I quickly realized that lots of things didn't." He gave her a soft stare, which she returned in earnest. "Like, like, the Northuldra are not a fighting people. I know that. And… and, they had no reason to fight us that day. From what I can piece together, I'm pretty sure they had no reason to attack us."

"How do you know they aren't a fighting people?" She squeezed his hand. "Didn't you forget most of what happened?"

He scratched his head, then scrunched his eyes at her. "They came to Arendelle a few months before building the dam. To make the agreement. They made a big scene of it in the square… Don't you remember that?"

A shiver ran down Iduna's spine. "Oh! Yeah, yeah, sorry. I remember now. So…"

"So I remember parts of that day vividly, for whatever reason. And I remember noticing that the Northuldra didn't bring swords. Or bows, for that matter. All they had as weapons were sticks." He pointed to the drawing of the long, wooden object on the notepad. "Like these. I remember, standing in the courtyard as my father and the Chief shook hands, that they didn't have any armour. None. Why wouldn't they bring swords or armour when coming to a foreign kingdom?"

She blinked, playing along. "Because they didn't have any…?"

He nodded, gesturing with his hands to show she was on the right track. "Exactly! It's not in their nature."

Iduna knew what he was talking about. The day the agreement was made? Like him, it was vivid in her mind as well.

3 months earlier…

"Do you have to go?"

For the hundredth time, Papa embraced her in a giant hug. "Yes, my star, I do." He pulled away and smiled comfortingly at her. "We'll be back before you know it."

"But what if something happens?" she persisted, clutching his sleeve like it was the last time she would ever see him. "I don't like this. Any of this. I still don't trust them."

He gave her a reassuring pat on the back, proceeding to swirl the figure-eight that he knew she loved. "Don't worry. The Arendellians mean no harm. We mean no harm. This is just to make the agreement, to start work on the dam. And Vlen will know what to do if anything happens." She looked at him fearfully. "Which is nothing," he quickly added. "Everything will be fine."

"Kimarr! Last call!" came a voice from their left, accompanied by the sounds of footsteps, reindeer hooves, and other chatter. "We're about to leave."

Her father gave her one last smile. "See, Iduna? There's no need to worry. Why, the spirits will protect us, if it comes to that. Vind will keep us all safe. Especially you." He grabbed his bags and walked over to where the rest of their party was, preparing to make the journey south.

The last Iduna heard of her father as they faded into the distance was the echo of his voice in her mind.

"Everything will be fine…"

"Iduna? Hello?"

She snapped back to the present, shaking her head to clear it of the memory. "Huh? What?"

"I asked whether you think the Northuldra are a fighting people." He was again sifting through the papers of his desk, pulling out different notepads and rereading sentences that, seemingly, were all about this same topic.

She blushed and shook her head, frowning. "The Northuldra are peaceful. As they always have been." If only he knew… Maybe she should ask him a question. "Hey, Agnarr?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"Do… do you think Arendellians are a fighting people?" She was half-scared, half-excited for his answer. Either way, she was holding her breath.

He stopped shuffling notes for a second and gazed out the window. "…More than them. I suppose." He looked back at her, sensing what she was asking. "But we would never have done that. Father would never have done that."

The urge to strangle him was just bearable.

"But… how do you know?" she said, emphasizing each word.

He stacked up the papers and put them back in his desk, shutting the drawer with a reasonating thud! "Mmm, I think the guards are on break right now. Let me show you."

0o0o0o0

"Where are we going?"

"The armory." His voice came clipped, full of grim resolve. His blonde face showed a mixture of determination and anxiety. She wondered what was going on in his mind. Maybe she had gone too far when she'd brought suspicion on the past King. His father. Surely, he wasn't so blind as to be ignoring that completely.

But, she realized, she probably would have done the same. If someone had accused her people of committing such a hateful crime, she would have denied it on all accounts too. It was the natural thing to do. Iduna looked over at him again, smiling softly. She'd done that just a few minutes ago, when she thought he had been behind it all. So it wasn't entirely his fault.

But, of course, someone had done the callous deed. The truth awaited no one. It had no heart. Only spoke in measures of stone, steel, and ice, unwavering no matter how hard you wanted to believe otherwise. It was the mist that truly couldn't be lifted.

After they'd exited the castle and walked down a short path, Agnarr exhaled. "We're here." He pushed open a dusty set of wooden doors, their hinges creaking terribly as they entered.

Inside it was dark and musty. There was only one window on the far right wall, whose opening only let in a small, fraying amount of light. As a result, the entire room was shrouded in partial darkness, as if the air itself knew the horrors that had been committed by the items in its close proximity.

Iduna squinted. It was a little hard to see.

Rows upon rows of weaponry lay stacked against the walls. Swords, their silver edges glinting proudly in the late afternoon sun. Bows, their wood carved from the finest bark. Arrows, standing tall and true next to their crescent-shaped counterparts. Shields, all bearing the signature green, yellow, and purple hues of the Arendellian coat of arms.

But Iduna did not look upon them with admiration. Every sword she saw, every bow, every arrow, and every shield would be forever intertwined with horrible flashbacks of her people being slaughtered. Looking at it all now… it brought a fresh wave of pain that made her stomach churn. Gulping, she had to turn away for a second.

Agnarr put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She gave him a weary smile. Don't show. "Yeah. What is it you wanted to show me?"

He looked her in the eye, not taking it. "Are you sure?"

He's so sweet. "Yes, Agnarr, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Alright." Reluctantly, he conceded, then glanced back at the weaponry lining the room. "This is where we keep all our weapons. I- uh, I know I'm not supposed to be showing you this, but no one's here at the moment, so I think it's okay. But we'd better hurry."

Iduna exhaled, then forced herself to gaze around the room in its entirety. Upon closer examination, she noticed that a great deal of the room seemed to be empty. "There's a lot missing," she remarked.

He grimaced. "Yeah, we, uh- we lost a lot of soldiers in… you know." He dropped his gaze. "Hence the empty shelves. But I think Sturr's planning to send a missive to Bartou for a shipment."

She looked at him. "How long does that take?"

"A few weeks at best, but usually a month. Depends."

Walking up to the barracks, she peered down at one of the swords, her insides becoming queasy. This was used to kill my people. She mumbled a soft prayer in their name.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear that," Agnarr said, coming up behind her. "Were you talking to me?"

Frantically, Iduna wracked her mind to think of something to say. "Uh- yeah! Sorry. Um, I- …wait, how did these marks get here?"

He leaned down, picking a sword up and holding it in the fading light. "You mean the little dents here and there along the blade? Those are natural. They come from all battles, when the two sword edges meet. You know… clashes."

She nodded slowly. "That's… why you and Erin were using wooden ones. The other day. So that there aren't dents."

He tilted his head at her, as if this was common knowledge. "Yeah…? Okay. Anyway, here's what I wanted to show you."

He led her over to the armory's top left corner, the one where the least light was shed. The sun was definitely falling fast. Pointing at a wider sword on the wall, he made a grand gesture and bowed. "May I present: The Svein itself."

Uhhh, what? Am I supposed to know this? her mind went.

"Um… what's The Svein?" she asked confusedly. Maybe this is too obvious that I'm an outsider.

He stood up from his bow, looking slightly hurt. "You don't know about The Svein?"

Yeah, definitely too obvious. She covered her face with her hands. "Sorry. Over the past few days, I just- I-"

"It's okay," he reassured her, smiling. "If there's anyone who knows a thing or two about memory loss, it's me."

He took a deep breath. "The Svein's a pretty big part of Arendellian culture. At least, our fighting culture. Well, it's like a tradition. Yeah." He shook his head in a silent apology. "The Svein is a special sword. Basically, whenever a King of Arendelle leads his troops into battle, he wields it to symbolize the people and his kingdom. It's kinda like a formal warcry." He brought it closer to her, which, to his dismay, she shuddered at and flinched away from.

He sighed. "Sorry if this is too… I don't know. Do you want me to stop?"

She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them again. "No, go ahead."

A concerned expression came over his face, but he continued. "Okay… Well, see this small red stripe on the hilt?" Iduna glanced down and, sure enough, there was the faint design of a leather binding, which had been etched into the hilt with the precision of a hawk. "That's how you can tell it apart. I think… yeah. The Svein was named after King Svein, who was my… great-great-great-great-however-many-greats grandfather. One of the first Kings of Arendelle, who brought the sword into battle for the first time."

Iduna motioned for him to give it to her, which he did. "So the King only brings it into battle when he knows there's a war coming?"

Agnarr scratched his head. "Yeah… I guess. Sure."

"And this is part of your- I mean our culture? I- uh, I never knew the history behind it."

"Yes." He grinned proudly, then rolled his eyes. "Gosh, if Ms. Bjorn knew her lessons were actually coming in handy for once." He laughed. "She'd never let me hear the end of it."

But whereas Agnarr was full of lighthearted laughter, Iduna's mind was focused and acute as she studied the sword. Something's not right. What's missing here? "Mmm."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "But, well, that's why I think the whole thing—the battle with Northuldra—was just a big misunderstanding. Like I said, they don't seem like a fighting people. And, well, if my father had planned on killing the Northuldra, he would have taken The Svein into battle with him. Which he didn't, 'cause it's right here."

She closed her eyes, her mind searching for the key that would unlock the door to this mystery. Where is it? What's wrong here? "Is there… is there another Svein?"

He shook his head. "This is the only one. Since King Svein made it himself." He peered around nervously. "Iduna, the guards might be returning soon. We should leave."

She held it up to the dying, last rays coming in through the window. And finally, with the clarity of the fading sunlight and the musty, dark air surrounding them, the piece clicked into place. The key was found. Or—part of it.

"Then why are there no dents in it?"

Agnarr frowned. He took the sword back from her, and, looking at the blade closer, his frown deepened. Then it deepened some more. "Wait…"

A seed, an idea of hope blossomed in Iduna's chest. "See? There are no marks along the edge. And if this is the only ever one, it should be older than this. But… there's nothing." It was almost impossible not to jump in joy. It made sense! It did!

At least for her. Agnarr seemed to be having a hard time believing it.

He stumbled around, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, 'cause… there are marks. I've held The Svein before. And there were plenty of dents. I don't… This can't… no."

She felt like Bruni on steroids, as if she could take a running leap into the sky. Keep it in. This isn't supposed to make you happy. It's supposed to make you confused and miserable. But try all she might, unfortunately, Iduna couldn't suppress the sneaky smile that found its way onto her lips. Fortunately, she was able to hold in the exuberant shout fighting against the confines of her still tongue.

Her eyes dancing in excitement, she prodded him. "I… I didn't say anything, Aggy. But the guards are coming back soon. So… maybe we should go?"

He slumped, her words registering. "Oh. Yeah."

Still frowning, he carefully placed The Svein (or was it?) back in its spot on the wall, then they left the armory, closing the doors behind them. The hinges did not creak.

"But I just don't get it, Iduna. There's only ever been one Svein. And if this isn't it, what…" He stared at her, and a shiver raced down her back. "What happened to the original?"

Though her inner self was bouncing around in a crazed fit of hope and wonder, Iduna still felt bad for her friend as they walked back to the castle. He just looked so perplexed… and sad. Poor Agnarr. Their silence was deafening.

0o0o0o0

He dropped the pen on the floor of his room, having just written down their new information in his set of notepads. "Okay, well, I'll have to think about that later." He rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Iduna still felt buoyed by their discovery, so it took her by surprise when Agnarr placed his hands on hers and squeezed once. "Iduna…"

Her eyes widened. "Y- yeah?"

"I…" He sighed, then gulped and made eye contact with her. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. Here. With- with me."

It was such a simple message. Capable of being repeated in just one breath. But its weight, its enormity hung in the air like a suspended Earth Giant.

A sigh of defeat escaped his lips. "I know you have things you want to keep to yourself. But I'm okay with that. As long as you feel free to be yourself. When I'm… with you."

Her heart pounded and swelled with a passion she couldn't describe. It was a raging fire, not the destructive path of an inferno, but instead, a warmth that fluttered up her body and settled into every nook and cranny of her being. It wasn't going away anytime soon.

She took a deep breath. "Agnarr… when I'm with you, it's… it's like nothing I've ever felt before. I do feel happy, being with you." His earnest gaze bore into her. "And… yes, I know I haven't let you in. I'm sorry. I just- it's hard for me."

His grin faded, prompting another wave of guilt to cascade over her. "But I really, really appreciate you being so nice. And I want to help you. So… I want to stay." She gave him a small smile, then added, "With you."

He brightened, activating her fiery warmth again. Though he said "I'm glad," his gaze sadly dropped to the ground.

He deserves to know.

He does.

It's my turn to open up to him. After everything he's done for me. And, her mind said, pausing, he doesn't blame your people for what happened. This is your chance—maybe the only one anyone will ever get—to truly erase their blame. To reverse what's happening. To free your culture from this torment of lies.

But more importantly, he deserves to know.

He does.

She covered her face with her hands. Yes. He does. Tucked away a loose strand of hair. Flexed her fingers. Heaved another deep breath.

He does. More than anything in the world.

"Agnarr?"

He turned his head ever so slightly to look at her. And she grinned at him. A wordless exchange, but full of meaning. Fuller than the moon in the sky, fuller than the caverns of Ahtohallan.

"I trust you."

He nodded.

"I'm trusting you right now. I am."

A glimmer of hope dawned on his ashen face.

"Please trust me."

And in that moment, Iduna felt his trust. She saw it in his eyes, the telltale anticipation. The sign that every fiber of his body was holding his breath. Waiting for her to speak.

In that moment, she finally opened her soul, finally welcomed the boy who had taken her in, finally unlocked the unlockable gate. She was going into the unknown. This was it.

In that moment, the silence was deafening.

A/N: Whew! This chapter definitely took a little longer to write, but I'm glad I finished. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :D Hope you're all having a great day.

Okay, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. Please don't kill me. Instead, leave a review! They really help. :) What'd you think about Agnarr's logic? The Svein? I had a lot of fun thinking of how I could introduce more of Arendelle's culture to this story. Let me know your thoughts.

By the way, shout-out to Digital for encouraging me to write. Thanks dude! It helped more than you know.