"Adolf must be having a tough go of it with all this fog."
"I'd kill for watch duty right now. Ain't nothing to watch," Karina scoffed, eyes unmoving from the whittling knife and wooden block in her hands.
"Captain'll still have his head if we hit shallows or Islander scum," Jorn replied, pausing his washing of the deck railing to look out again over the open ocean, "Fog came outta nowhere."
"It's the anniversary, that's why it's foggy."
Jorn turned to the old man mopping behind him. "What, really, for the Siege of the Fjord? Ain't that next week?"
Karina slouched further down against the barrel she was using as a backrest. "Hell if I know, been stuck on this bloody ship for ages."
The eldest sailor continued mystically, "You know, days like this they say you can see her."
"Here we go," Jorn quipped, twisting out his cleaning rag, "Another classic legend from the salty sea dog himself."
"Go on, Lars, I could use a naptime story," Karina barked with a laugh.
Lars waved them off, returning to his mopping with a grunt. "Piss off."
"Oi, mate, it's just a bit of fun, go on then. Let's hear it again," Jorn said diplomatically, retiring his cloth over his shoulder, "For the anniversary."
The wink between the two younger sailors went unnoticed as the old man rubbed his thick, grey beard, leaning against his mop.
"Arendelle was always peaceful under two beautiful queens. One was born during the Winter Solstice and had magical powers of ice. The other was born during the Summer Solstice and was as warm and bright as a poppy."
Karina frowned. "Wasn't one technically a princess?"
"Yeah, didn't they switch or something?"
"It doesn't matter!" Lars snapped before returning to his tale, "The sisters took care of us. We prospered under their rule and made friends with the People of the Sun living in the forest with the spirits. Queen Elsa, the lady of winter, took care of the spirits and the forest. Queen Anna, the lady of summer, took care of the people. But-"
"Then those Southern Isle bastards showed up?" Jorn crossed his arms, leaning against the railing.
"Don't spoil the ending," Karina pouted sarcastically.
"Their entire fleet appeared on our shores, demanding our surrender. Two hundred ships!"
"Mum always said three hundred when she told it," Jorn muttered with an amused smirk.
Lars continued in a deep, foreboding voice, "They had sacrificed their souls to dark magic, giving birth to the Shadows, monsters of night. Death was knocking on our door."
"Don't forget the attack from the forest too."
The trio looked to the newcomer who had spoken up, a smiling ensign on his hands and knees with a scrubbing brush.
Karina chuckled, nodding to the young Northuldran, "That's right, don't forget Magnus was fighting Shadows as a runt!"
"Better than you!" Jorn quipped before nodding back to Lars, "The attack from the sea, go on."
Lars glanced between the three onlookers, dramatically paused, ensuring their comments and laughter were finished. Once satisfied, he brandished his mop like the scepter of a decorated official issuing a proclamation.
"Queen Elsa went out to meet them, and a powerful storm of ice, wind, and thunder swallowed them all. No one saw what happened. But when the clouds and fog cleared, all the ships were wrecked, and Queen Elsa was gone. The few survivors were taken prisoner, and they begged for death. They spoke of a terrible and mighty Blue Dragon that had brought upon their demise in seconds and couldn't stand to live after witnessing such carnage."
"Badass," Jorn asserted, the other two audience members nodding in agreement.
"Aye, lad. Badass. That's why we fly the standard of the Blue Dragon now as Arendelle's Royal Navy," Lars explained, pointing his mop-head to one of the flags fluttering above them, "So that those bastards never forget what happened five years ago."
"Five years," Jorn hummed, glancing back to the sea, "Reckon she's out there somehow?"
Magnus solemnly commented, "Lady Elsa hasn't been seen since that night."
"Oh, she's out there. Seen her myself," Lars asserted before leaning in surreptitiously, "If ya look close, and I mean real close, when the fog is thick like this, there'll be the blue glow. Or a shadow long and dark under the water," he gripped the wooden handle of his mop tightly as he unwaveringly declared, "The Blue Dragon's out there."
"Ice, off the port bow!"
The shouts and shuffling of the others tore the four away from their somber reflection. Jorn leaned over the rail, squinting against the fog. White littered the surface.
"Where did all this ruddy ice come from?"
Karina rose and stretched, interest peaked enough to walk towards the gathering sailors.
"There's a person!"
"We got someone overboard!"
The mates called for the dinghy to be dropped. Everyone was watching now, pushed to the side of the ship, observing as the little row boat and two of their comrades made their way down and out with their paddles.
"She's still breathing!" one of the rescuers called back to the boat, sending those on board scrambling for blankets, to fetch the medic and a stretcher, or to inform the captain. The rest continued to stare in wonder. Someone found alive at sea was unheard of in their deep, cold waters.
The ropes were hoisted, and the dinghy returned to the mothership. The group of sailors all extended hands to lift the precious cargo to them, to safety. She was heavy, somehow still partially frozen. They laid her gently on the deck, and despite their training, they stared dumbstruck.
Chunks of ice clung unnaturally to the woman's torso and limbs, and her skin was as pale as snow. Her long, damp hair was splayed across the deck like tarnished gold. A simple necklace dangled from her neck, moving so slightly with her delicate breathing.
"By the Five…" Lars stuttered breathlessly.
The old man trembled violently, swaying on his feet. Jorn gripped his forearm, catching him from falling. Still, his haunted eyes did not leave the woman before them.
"Lars, steady on."
He merely mumbled back, "It's really her."
"Who?"
He was met with silence. Some sailors too tilted their heads in confusion, wondering at the mystery before them. Others still mirrored Lars, eyes wide, as if they had seen a ghost. Fear and awe bewildered them all and robbed them of their words.
Magnus was the one who finally answered, his voice oddly calm.
"Lady Elsa."
Captain Maren of Arendelle's Royal Army sighed as she climbed the spiraling staircase to the queen's office. Who knew what kind of mood their leader would be in today, especially when Maren had been so hastily summoned to the castle.
When she crested the top of the stairs, a long hallway greeted her. At the end, two guards stood beside a large wooden door. Maren began her march down.
A mirror on the wall caught her eye, tucked between old paintings and portraits.
Her own reflection was still an oddity. Years of nomadic forest life meant her only mirror was river water, and nowadays she was always camped in the field or at the sparsely decorated forts.
The woman that looked back at her was very much a soldier. Her shoulders square, back straight, forest green uniform neatly in place. Short, cropped brown hair and calculating brown eyes accompanied an otherwise reserved expression. A long scar travelled across her cheek and upper lip.
Maren looked away and continued walking. She didn't have time for vanity.
She silently stopped before the threshold. One gatekeeper knocked, stepping into the inner sanctum to announce her name and rank. The leader of the Northuldra did not often have to introduce herself anymore when in Arendelle. At least recognition induced efficiency.
When the guard remerged and nodded, she entered the room.
Sunlight streamed through two windows on the right wall, illuminating the rug's vivid, teal fabric. The fireplace's mantle was richly decorated with cloth and a shining, silver axe inscribed with runes. Bookshelves, ornate picture frames, and even a suit of armor lined the other walls. A grand desk with the floral sigil of Arendelle carved up the legs stood at the other end of the room. The woman behind the desk stood up.
"There you are."
Queen Anna's wardrobe had garnered a reputation as robust, and today was no different. The signature dark lavender of the royal family seemed to coat her entire body; impressively high collar, protruding padded shoulders, elbow-length gloves, a full skirt, and knee high boots all matched with a golden trim. A long braid wrapped around her head, almost like a helmet. The overall effect felt like one was facing down a heavily armored knight, and the finishing touch was a black eye patch covering her left eye, embellished with a golden flower.
War had changed them both.
Maren approached the desk and bowed. She stood at attention and watched as the queen poured dark liquid from an elegant decanter into two glasses. One was presented to her.
"Go on. A toast, of sorts. Between old friends."
Maren obeyed the order and picked up the glass but did not sip. She stood stiffly holding the drink out in one hand, the other arm still formally tucked behind her back. 'Friends' wasn't a precise term, but she knew the queen did not have many. Nor did she herself, for that matter.
They both had simply done what was necessary to survive, and this united them.
The queen took her glass and turned to the nearby window. Maren noticed the lipstick and fingerprints already lining the goblet; this was not the first beverage of the afternoon.
"You know, my grandfather spent his whole life at war with most of the continent," Anna surmised, staring down at the city and fjord below, "Perhaps this war is merely poetic justice for thinking my reign would be different."
Maren did not comment.
"Five years to the day today, they declared war, and we answered back. Five years from today, my sister…"
Right. The two things they truly had in common. War and her. The queen took a sip of her drink, swallowing hard, staring intently at the bottom of the glass.
"The Prince Consort thinks it's time I accepted she's gone," she continued evenly, failing to hide the note of bitterness in her voice before she looked up at Maren, "What do you think?"
The captain answered evenly and pragmatically, gaze directed at the back wall in perfect etiquette, "Your Majesty, Olaf lives. Her magic lives. She is alive."
"We both saw her fall into the sea, from these very windows."
"She is alive."
"How can you be so sure?"
On a normal day, the queen embodied the absolute confidence of someone born with the divine right to rule. Arendelle loved their leader that rode with them to battle even when she demanded perfection. She was strong, incredibly intelligent, and intense in hot anger or cold retribution.
But doubt? It was never on the queen's lips… and yet there it was now.
They were the last two that still turned to the ocean's horizon with searching eyes. For her. And now it seemed, Maren was the only one left.
Elsa.
She stared directly at the queen now, propriety be damned.
"I swore an oath to this kingdom I would protect it. I swore an oath to my queen I would find Lady Elsa and bring her home. I will fulfill both before my dying breath," her voice was even but resolute. A declaration. A vow.
She would do whatever it took. Another five years or another fifty years.
A blue eye stared intently, assessing.
"You really love her, even still?" Anna asked softly.
Maren looked down to the drink in her hand.
Love. The word echoed in her chest, a whisper reverberating an empty chamber. Love had been snowflakes on eyelashes and kind smiles by nighttime fires. Love had been freshly fallen white blankets of powder on morning walks with accidentally brushing hands. Frozen lakes of childlike wonder and frost just before the dawn of spring. Dances and reindeer rides.
Love was a precious sculpture of ice buried deep to protect it from the fires of war. She had to be hard and cold for its sake. She had a job to do.
Placing the glass on the desk, Maren stood rigid and upright once more, arms firmly locked behind her and chin held high. The perfect soldier.
Her gaze returned to the wall beyond. "Respectfully, may I ask why I have truly been summoned, Your Majesty?"
The queen turned back to her window, expressionless.
"Fort Halvor has fallen. One soldier managed to escape to bring us the news. The rest are captured or dead. Convoys in the area were told weeks ago to rendezvous there."
She paused, and with one swift motion, downed the rest of her drink. Her eye narrowed as it continued to survey her kingdom outside the window.
"Captain, take the Silver battalion" the queen commanded absolutely, "Take back my fort."
Maren bowed. "Your Majesty."
The soldier turned on her heel and made her exit.
Sleep my darlings safe and sound…
Elsa awoke with a violent start. She shot up and looked around in wild panic, unsure of where she was.
The tension in her body melted slowly as she realized she was in a room and in a bed. Generally a sign of safety.
Arendelle's flag was splayed on the wall, and the mere sight made Elsa sigh in relief before she continued inspecting her surroundings. The rest of the lodgings were simple. Wood floor, wood walls, wood ceilings, wood chair, small wood desk close to the bed. A map laid on top of the table beside a compass. An unfamiliar swallow-tailed flag adorned the wall nearby, smaller than the national banner. The background was the same purple hue, but a long, bright blue serpentine figure stretched across it. As she stared, Elsa could feel a gentle rocking. All the wood...she was on a boat.
The sight of countless ships decimated across the ocean flashed in her mind. Her head dropped to her hands as an ache culminated in her temple.
A light knock sounded at the door. Elsa looked up to see a tall man enter the room and close the door. The sight of the familiar white uniform of the Arendelle Navy again put her at ease. The stranger had casually rolled up his sleeves. Green and purple detailing around the chest indicated he was ranked above the average seafarer, but he moved to the desk in the room before she could properly analyze it.
He sat down, opening a drawer. Inspecting his profile, she noticed traces of grey in his red hair and beard. Any traces of old age, however, were overwritten by the defined jawline and strong, wide shoulders.
A bottle emerged from the drawer with a small glass.
"You probably have questions." His voice was deep and scratchy as he placed his new bounty on the desktop.
Elsa blinked. That was a massive understatement.
"What's going on?"
"You were found floating in the middle of the ocean in hunks of ice a few days ago," he explained calmly, uncorking the bottle. He paused, eyes glancing towards her, "Do you know who you are?"
"Elsa of Arendelle," the former queen replied with a frown, anxiously looking between the man and the flag, "Do you not know who I am?"
He began to pour the golden contents of the bottle into the small glass as he answered, "I do know, Your Highness. Pardon my lack of decorum, but I needed to check. These are strange times."
She tilted her head quizzically at his odd response, but there were more pressing matters.
"Where are we?"
"Aboard the HRM Geirr. Captain Johansen, at your service," he bowed his head in her direction as he set the bottle back down, "We're a few leagues into the Southern Sea from the east, heading due west."
Elsa glanced down to the floor, menrally picturing the map she had memorized long ago.
"But that would be towards Arendelle. How are we so far to the east of the continent? I was just at the capital."
Johansen finally turned to face her full on. His gaze was intent as he leaned forward in his chair.
"Lady Elsa, what do you last remember?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but none came. Her eyes fell to the blanket still covering her legs. The ships. All those dead people.
"The invasion. I had to stop it. I thought I managed to before…" she trailed off, struggling to piece the fragments, "I'm afraid I don't remember anything after that."
The captain's dark, grey eyes did not move.
Elsa looked back up and questioned apprehensively, "Is everyone alright?"
It couldn't have been for nothing. They had to be safe.
Johansen leaned back into his chair and picked up the shot of liquor, quickly tossing it back. The empty glass clinked back against the table.
"Did I pass out for a bit?"
As he again picked up the bottle to uncork it, he finally answered, "A bit."
He poured another shot and then sighed, "Your Highness, I might be an officer of Her Majesty's Navy, but my lot in life is leading a group of sweaty sailors that are only literate in curses and shanties, so I'll be blunt," he paused, then held the bottle out to her, "Drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Right," he muttered, clearing his throat, setting the drink down. He turned again to her.
"The invasion you speak of was five years ago."
Five years.
Elsa felt her mouth dumbly fall open.
Five years? Impossible.
She knew what it was to freeze another's heart, but now, she felt the cold as it revolted against her. The chill crept up her spine and clutched at her chest.
Five. Years.
Johansen continued on, gravelly voice barely registering to her, "We have been at war with the Southern Isles and their allies since then. You have been missing, more or less declared dead, for five years."
War. Dead?
Were the people she loved dead? Why was her head and heart so empty, where were the spirits? What had she done? So much blood was on her hands and she then...she left? Died?
It was so, so cold. She shook fiercely. Fear turned the winter against her. Her mind screamed Conceal, don't feel, the body howled back in all-consuming fear. The room was spinning, her breathing growing too quick and shallow.
No. Never again. The ice belonged to her.
She practically glared at the wall, trying to anchor her vision. Her hand stretched out to the desk. The captain's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he did not contest, quickly handing her the bottle.
Elsa uncorked the bottle and took a swig before rather ungracefully launching into a coughing fit.
The burning in her throat, the coughing, the fire of it all...it was like waking up again. The excessive force felt terrible, but she was alert now, no longer spiraling into panic. The fear had been pushed aside. She could think.
The room went quiet. Her breathing softened, breathes growing longer, deeper. Johansen just calmly watched.
Elsa swallowed and raspily asked, "Anna. Queen Anna is still…?" she struggled, unsure how to ask if her sister was still alive.
Thankfully, the man understood and firmly nodded.
She took another slow, long breath.
Honeymaren.
"The Northuldra are still with us?"
He nodded again. "Many of them joined our ranks. We fight the war on two fronts. Forest and sea."
By Atohallan, she hoped Honeymaren was alright. However, she forced herself to continue down her mental checklist. She extended her arm back to return the rum to its owner, who silently accepted it.
"Are we winning?" She winced as soon as it tumbled out of her mouth. They weren't playing a card game.
Johansen grunted, "The enemy has magic. We call them Shadows. Big, dark, like someone covered in spilled ink."
Elsa grimaced further. "I saw them that night."
She hated to wonder how her people had fared against the walking nightmares.
He nodded before continuing, "Very hard to kill, if they even die. Took about two years before we discovered they really only went down against silver weapons. Anyway, we don't see a lot of people like us on the other side nowadays. A few, we think, to round up and command the Shadows," he explained, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair, "Wasn't always like that, so we think the Islanders are running out of men and funds. We hope. We're running on fumes and recruits that keep getting younger," his voice grumbled and he shook his head.
He nodded his head to the map on his desk before continuing, "Corona and most of the inner dukedoms, they're with us. The outer dukedoms are with the Islanders. The whole continent is tired."
Five years of war. It was a lot to take in, but Elsa's mind, the mind of a former leader, was already picking it apart and studying. The captain seemed content to pour himself another drink as she mulled it over.
"You said the enemy has magic. What about us?"
The glass that was on the way to his lips paused, and he looked at her incredulously.
"Your Highness, you were the magic."
"But the other spirits…" she murmured, still desperately trying to feel them, to sense them.
Johansen shook his head. "Gone. Folks will swear 'by the Five' or have heard of the Blue Dragon and her spirit kin saving the world. But for the past five years, they've only been fairy tales. Common ones for Arendelle. But still just stories...and now here you are," he muttered almost ominously before turning back to his drink.
The silence she felt was real then. The spirits had disappeared.
She had to figure out what happened. She needed to get home.
"Captain, I must get to the capital," Elsa stated firmly, summoning what queenly energy she could despite still sitting a bed in front of the man that had observed her multiple panic attacks. It admittedly wasn't her best day.
There was silence save the clattering of glass as the bottle was returned to the desk drawer. Johansen stroked his beard in thought as he turned back to her.
"My orders are to get to Fort Halvor. We're two weeks late on a supply run thanks to a surprise blockade, and I know they need the gear," he summarized thoughtfully, "Army there should be able to get an escort for you, faster cutting across on land."
Despite his rough demeanor, Elsa could see the kindness in his stormy grey eyes. After all, his crew had saved her, and she was grateful.
"Thank you."
He nodded, standing up and walking towards the door. "We're just over a day out now. Try and get some rest. My quarters are all yours."
Before he opened the door, however, he paused and turned back to her.
"I'm not saying Her Highness shouldn't do as she pleases about the ship. But, well, a lot of sailors are superstitious. Their guardian of the sea just came back to life. Don't think too harshly of them if they're a bit…" he scratched his head as his hoarse voice trailed off.
Elsa offered a sympathetic smile. She knew her presence was, at minimum, terribly awkward on the best of days.
"While it seems a lot has changed, that, at least, is pretty normal," she replied as nonchalantly as she could.
He nodded, opening the door. The sunlight now streaming in brightly illuminated the wall, and the electric blue dragon popped vibrantly on its flag.
"Wait, sorry," Elsa called out before he could leave, "you mentioned it before, what's the Blue Dragon?"
Johansen turned and just stared at her, ship creaking gently with the quiet rocking. Suddenly, he burst into booming, thunderous laughter. Elsa stared bewilderedly from the bed at the man who had been serious and unreadable for most of their conversation.
He was gasping for air, tears in his eyes when he barked, "You!"
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "What?"
The only response she received was continued snickering as he walked out the door and shut it behind him.
A/N: Hopefully this was a fun surprise...Thanks for reading, and as always, please comment with any and all feedback so we can try to make this awesome.