The Next Unknown
20 – Within These Walls
OoOoO
His granddaughter swept into the room like a hurricane, wild with bed hair. "Grandfather! Grandfather!"
"Good morning, Dagny." Belland grimaced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. It was the first time in many years that he had slept in and his body refused to reap the benefits. "We've spoken about making noise in the morning, have we not?"
"Yes, but—" Dagny jumped onto the bed and whispered in his ear, "The queen is here."
It took a torturously long time to dress himself. His leg was always stiff in the mornings; the pain would usually have woken him by now. Snatching up his cane, Belland hobbled downstairs.
The front door had been left wide open—he needed to have another word with Dagny about that. Through it, Belland saw Queen Anna sitting on the steps with his granddaughter. "You got it! Okay, now we just need to tuck this corner under that fold and… see? Looks like a beak now, doesn't it?"
"Yours does," Dagny huffed. "Mine looks like a paper sandwich."
Belland cleared his throat, causing queen and child alike to jump and knock their heads together with identical yelps. "Is that my morning paper?"
"It's only the jokes section," Dagny said sheepishly, rubbing her brow. "You never read those pages anyway."
"To be fair, Wael doesn't write good jokes. But don't tell him I said that." Queen Anna handed Dagny the bird she had folded. "I think your super big brain can figure out how to fold an even better bird by dissecting mine. Up to the challenge?"
Dagny grinned back and returned the queen's hi-five. She gathered the remnants of the newspaper and ducked under Belland's arm. "Thanks, Anna! I mean—Your Majesty!"
"Stick with 'Anna'!" the queen hollered back, wrinkling her nose at Belland. "I'm really tempted to make a law about that. It's too weird hearing Your Majesty from the kids."
Belland's mind flashed back to another morning and another royal standing on his porch. "Did Your Majesty come by specifically for my advice on that matter? I'm honoured."
"Aha! So that's what it takes."
"Pardon me?"
Belland's son-in-law had installed a metal rail beside the steps for his footing on snowy days. He had never used it. Now, he watched as the queen hoisted herself onto it, just like Dagny often did. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "So you can get annoyed. I thought it was physically impossible for you or something."
Belland arched an eyebrow. "I am far from annoyed, ma'am."
"Oh, please. 'I'm honoured'? Yeah, you're not fooling anyone. You're totally annoyed. Nothing wrong with that." She tapped her chin. "Let me guess. Is it because I didn't talk to you about the speech before I went ahead with it?"
Belland's other eyebrow rose. "I was not annoyed; I was surprised."
"I thought you liked surprises."
"I thought so, too."
The kingdom had been set abuzz. The blueprints detailing evacuation routes had been distributed as planned, and the people were united in determination. It had become disturbingly common to see a civilian asking a soldier on patrol for advice on household items that could be repurposed as weapons. General Mattias had the fleet on standby, running drills day by day. Each morning, the kingdom woke to the assuring sight of the Snow Queen's walls, holding fast and strong. It seemed to Belland like Arendelle could not be more prepared.
Yet it was impossible not to notice that the queen, prince, and princess appeared perpetually occupied these days. Even Olaf seemed busy, no longer frolicking around the village. Meanwhile, Belland found himself at the luxury of sleeping in.
Queen Anna shielded her eyes and looked past him. "I never realised how strange it is that you live over here. I mean, the Erlings' house is up there. I thought you would've been neighbours. Your families were close, right?"
The house on the hill. Belland didn't need to turn to see it clearly in his mind. "Hakon Sr. and I lived under the same roof as children. When we proved ourselves useful to King Runeard, he rewarded us with property of our own."
"You didn't get to choose the location?"
"I am not dissatisfied, if that is what Your Majesty means to imply."
"I didn't say anything." The queen's gaze remained thoughtfully fixed on Hakon's house.
"The council has not convened in the two weeks since Your Majesty's speech. It is not fitting for the council to idle about while Your Majesty seems to be so busy as of late. It makes us look like geriatric layabouts."
"Wow. It must be bad if you're trying to make jokes."
Belland smiled back without humour. "I was not joking, ma'am."
"Sorry. I'll be serious." Queen Anna slid off the rail. "Kai said my grandfather had two capable advisors—you were one of them. The battle at the dam happened because he stopped listening to your advice. Are you worried because you don't know what I'm thinking anymore?"
The queen had become far more insightful. More difficult to discern. For the first time since her coronation, Belland felt one step behind. "No. We knew what Runeard was thinking long before that event. We believed we could stop him."
"But you couldn't. If you knew it was wrong, why did you go along with it?" Queen Anna pointed to Belland's cane. "That's how you hurt your leg, right?"
Reaching down to grip his aching leg, Belland smiled grimly. "Because he was my friend. I couldn't bring myself to walk away from him. Foolish, isn't it?"
Queen Anna stared at him. Then she frowned. "You remember that test you gave me? You asked me to prove that I had what it took to be a good queen. And you just said, 'Hakon Erling'. I didn't understand what you meant. I thought you wanted to see how I would deal with his attitude because we used to work together. But I think I've figured it out now: you knew how Hakon felt about the Northuldra. You and his father both followed Runeard, but you're the only one who survived. And you feel guilty because you couldn't criticise him after the choices you made. So you pawned him off to me."
Belland looked back at the young queen standing before him and smiled wearily. History was catching up to him, and he was too old to keep running from it. "I will not protest if it would please Your Majesty to arrest me for my cowardice."
"Why is everyone so obsessed with the dungeon? It's not like you did anything wrong. I talked to Hakon. For the record, he wasn't being weird towards me because of the Northuldra. It was actually… never mind. That's not why I'm here." Queen Anna looked at Belland. "He told me something else. Something that didn't quite add up."
OoOoO
The horse jerked to a halt.
"Whoa! What now?" Oskar blurted. Then he belatedly realised that they had reached the end of the dock; Miska had stopped only steps short of the water. He hadn't registered how deeply entranced he was. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry I zoned out. Good job keeping us on solid ground. Happy?"
Miska huffed.
"Aww! Look at you two getting along." Anna had returned from her rounds. How did she always have the worst timing? "Didn't I tell you to wait for me near the school? How did you two end up down there?"
"You were taking too long. Got bored."
"Soooo you decided to fall into the fjord?"
"No. Just got distracted. It's still…. weird."
"Is it? I think you've gotten heaps better. You and Miska totally have a bond going."
It took Oskar a moment to catch on. "I wasn't talking about riding, idiot. I meant—" He gestured across the glistening fjord. "—that."
He saw Anna's gaze follow his hand, climbing up, up, up. Then she winced and shielded her eyes. Oskar empathised—the ice walls were so tall that it was a simple thing to mistake them as part of the neighbouring cliffs. Except cliffs did not capture and reflect sunlight in an intense fractal beam; at the wrong time of day, it hurt to look at them. Yet it was also impossible not to be drawn to them.
It had been two weeks since Oskar and the rest of Arendelle had watched Anna's sister raise those breathtaking walls. Yet he still had not learned his lesson. If Miska hadn't had the sense to stop, he might have continued forward like a moth dangerously drawn to the light, itching to get closer. To touch it.
"Want one?"
Oskar snapped back to attention. Anna had sat down on a stone ledge and taken a massive cookie out of a paper bag. "That cookie is bigger than my face," he said flatly.
Anna's own face was already flecked with crumbs. "And? How is that a problem?"
She had a point. Unable to order Miska into turning around, Oskar gave up and dismounted. As soon as he was off her back, Miska gracefully trotted up the ramp and wandered off to investigate the nearest fruit stall.
"I want another pony," Oskar scowled as he sat down beside Anna. "A more disciplined one."
"Hmm? Wha wuf fa?"
Speaking of discipline. "Quit talking with your mouth full. Mattias will murder me if you choke on my watch."
"Nah. You can just point the finger at one of the four guards on my detail."
"Five." Oskar reached for a cookie. Okay, he had to admit it was pretty delicious.
Back home, he and Sofia used to sit on the pier all the time, even on the coldest of evenings. Between her studies and his training, it had been the only time and place they could spend time together as themselves. They'd share whatever snacks they'd scavenged from the kitchen, and Sofia would skip rocks while poking fun at the new bruises Oskar had picked up from his lessons. He should have paid more attention when she tried to teach him how to skip those rocks.
Anna finished her cookie and dusted off her hands. "Did you know there are different types of ice? Something about temperature and pressure. Apparently those walls are, like, the diamonds of ice. And that mist? That's from the ice constantly thawing and refreezing. You can hear it hissing when you get close enough, like a ghost song. I swear Elsa never does the bare minimum."
It was ingenious. The Southern Isles' strength had always lain in naval combat. With the fjord now impenetrable, Caleb would be forced to push through the mountains—if his army even survived the clash with the other nations in his path. The strongest defence had become the greatest offence. Prince Gregory would have appreciated the beauty of it.
"How are you not scared of someone who can do that?"
"Who? Elsa? That's a silly question. She's my sister."
"So? This war didn't start because Rudi and Runo murdered the king. It started because Caleb's brothers were scared of him."
"Well, Elsa isn't Caleb. Elsa is Elsa."
Oskar thought of the woman who had conjured walls of such tremendous scale that the ground had trembled like an earthquake. The same woman who had once fashioned him a chair of ice for his comfort.
But he also remembered the look on Anna's face as she had watched the walls rise. The way she had speechlessly looked between the ice and her sister, as if trying to regain her grasp of reality in the space between the two. "This is your first time seeing what she can really do, isn't it?"
Anna blinked. Then she laughed. "She made a whole palace out of ice, you know. This is just bigger. We have an inside joke that Elsa isn't capable of making anything that isn't beautiful. And these walls—they're stunning. Who knew walls could be so pretty, right?"
"Right," Oskar echoed, eyeing her.
Anna glanced back at the wall. Looked back down, picked lint off her trousers. "I guess it's a little different to her usual magic," she admitted shortly.
"So you are scared of her."
"Am not. Why would I be? I'm scared for her. I mean, this is exactly why that creep, Niklas, wanted to get his hands on her. Everyone wants to use her powers for some sort of world domination." Anna squared her shoulders. "Well, I won't let them. She's my sister, not a weapon." She looked at him. "You, too. You're not a weapon either."
Hadn't Sofia said something like that to him, once?
The mirth had slipped from Anna's expression like a mask. Oskar just wasn't sure if she was taking it off or putting it on. Anna was getting harder to read lately, becoming more like the queen he'd expected when he first arrived in Arendelle. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.
Anna nudged him. "If Caleb somehow still breaks through, you're going to evacuate like everyone else. I don't want to see you anywhere near the front lines. Deal?"
Oskar wondered if she had invited him along on her errands just so she could keep an eye on him. All he had to do was keep quiet. Be good. There was no point worrying her.
But he was starting to hate lying to her. "I'll make sure you don't see me, then," he muttered.
She groaned. "Oskar! I'm serious."
"So am I." He turned to her with a fiery gaze. "Caleb's the reason Sofia and Prince Gregory are dead. He's the reason you almost died."
"But I'm fine—"
"Well, I'm not!"
Anna flinched.
Oskar glowered at the wooden planks beneath his feet. "I tried, okay? I ran errands, read books, took care of the horses… It's nice here. I like Arendelle. But I feel like a fraud. Prince Gregory didn't raise me to sit around eating cookies. I'm just not trained to run away from danger. Do you get that? I was supposed to stand between Sofia and danger. She wasn't supposed to shield me from those archers. So don't… don't protect me, Anna."
No more stupid heroics, Sofia had told him.
She wouldn't know if he broke his promise. There were lots of things Sofia and Prince Gregory would never know now.
"Oskar…" Anna sounded desperate. "Look, I understand where you're coming from. It's not healthy, but I get it. You're angry. But you won't be able to get anywhere near him. It's just not—"
"Let's say we win this war. What am I supposed to do, Anna? Live in the castle as your charity project for the rest of my life? Become an honorary Arendellian?" Oskar had snapped his cookie in half. "Hell, maybe I really could do that. I might even be happy. But I don't know how to just survive. No one taught me how to live like that. So, at the very least, I'm going after Caleb. Even if it ki—"
"Don't say it." Anna's voice cracked. "Please don't say it."
Oskar clamped his mouth shut. Wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was chilly out here.
"You're only twelve years old, Oskar," Anna mumbled. "So don't… don't say stuff like that. Okay?"
Oskar stared stubbornly out at the fjord, wondering how much it would take to burn this bridge. He should have just lied. Promised to be good, followed orders, stayed in line. If he hadn't let Sofia care for him, she wouldn't have died protecting him.
Maybe he and Anna would never understand each other. They were too different; his simple reality was a horror story to her. Oskar didn't think he was wrong. Yet a part of him didn't like that he'd scared her.
Just as he opened his mouth to apologise, Anna let out a sigh. "You need a reason, right?"
"What?"
"You know. Something to keep you grounded. A purpose."
"I don't know. Maybe. Whatever. Just—forget I said anything." Oskar bit into his cookie and thought back to the day of the funeral, their first time riding together.
Hey, she had joked, do you want to be my little bodyguard?
Now, Anna ran a hand through her hair, looking deep in thought. Usually, he'd tease her about frying her brain. She would swat at him and one of them might end up in the fjord. A normal, tranquil day.
Ask me, Oskar thought. Ask me the question again.
Finally, Anna spoke up. "Elsa should almost be done by now. Finish your cookie first. Then I'll take you to see him."
Oskar squashed the rebellious disappointment. "Who? What are you talking about?"
There was something different about her smile. Something sad. Anna wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to her side. "You'll see. Just trust me, okay?"
How many times had she said that to him? How stupid did he have to be to keep believing someone so unconditionally?
Oskar let himself lean into her, just a little. "Fine."
"Good. Hey, can I have half your cookie?"
"Keep dreaming."
If Westergaards were lions, then it made sense that he hadn't been able to keep up the facade. He was too weak.
OoOoO
The door cracked open before Elsa could reach it. Petra, one of the soldiers who had been freed from the Forest with Mattias, warily stuck her head out. Seeing Elsa in the hallway, she opened the door fully and bowed. "Your Highness. I thought I heard someone coming."
"Nothing gets past you, does it, Petra?"
"Vigilance is underrated, ma'am." Petra looked questioningly at the tea tray in Elsa's hands. "Hoping to catch more flies with honey than vinegar? Doesn't work, unfortunately. The queen has offered many niceties. And patience. He's a stubborn one."
"May I speak to him in private?"
Petra studied her. Then she stepped back. "As you wish. I will return shortly and wait outside for you. I just need to check on that witch."
"… I beg your pardon?"
"His lackey," Petra clarified with a roll of her eyes. "We keep her on the other side of the castle in case she breaks out and disappears with him—but I swear to Odin, I am about to petition Her Majesty to throw her in the dungeon. She's a piece of work. Refuses to stop yapping about decorating the walls with our blood and… ma'am?" Seeing the expression on Elsa's face, Petra suddenly cleared her throat. "Pardon my language, Your Highness. Mat—the general keeps telling me I am too crude."
Elsa blinked. "Oh, no—you don't need to apologise. I'm not bothered at all. It's just…"
It was her first time hearing someone else being called a 'witch'. Petra, like Mattias and the Northuldra, had not witnessed the gates closing, her coronation, the winter. Sometimes Elsa forgot that there were people who had never been afraid of her. People who simply trusted that she could fend for herself without a guard detail.
"I'm glad you're here, Petra."
Petra cleared her throat a second time. "As am I. I assure you, I am usually far more professional than this. But that woman… she reminds me of the way I used to be in Runeard's army. Blindly following orders. It gets to me." She glanced back at Elsa. "Not that I wish to romanticise insubordination, of course."
Elsa smiled. "I'm not worried."
Petra smiled back. She held the door open.
The room was one of the smallest guest chambers, cloistered in the castle's quietest wing. Featuring little more than a bed, cabinet, and a small round table, it did not take long at all for Elsa to take in her surroundings.
It also meant that the room's single occupant barely needed to turn away from the window to notice her presence. He was thinner than she remembered, his hair longer and almost reaching his shoulders. "Princess Elsa."
"Prince Gregory." Elsa lowered the tray onto the table. "Will you join me for tea?"
Gregory pulled out the chair closest to him, looked at her, and waited.
It took Elsa a beat to register that it was for her. "Oh. Thank you."
Gregory's attempt to pull out his own chair did not go as smoothly. Elsa saw his left shoulder twitch, as if trying to raise an arm that no longer filled the empty sleeve hanging by his side. A dark expression flickered across Gregory's face, sinking into the lines that marked a permanent furrowing of his thick brows. Shoving his hair out of his eyes with his remaining hand, he dragged the chair out with his foot and sat down.
They faced each other.
"Anna said you wished to speak to me?"
"I do."
She understood why Anna found him difficult now. It's like talking to a rock, her sister had said, and I don't mean a rock that's actually a sleeping troll. I mean a literal, non-responsive rock.
Elsa turned her attention to pouring tea for the two of them. "We've met before. I don't know if you remember."
"I remember." A long pause. Just as Elsa wondered if Gregory spoke only in two word sentences, he added, "A brief meeting, before your coronation. Yet here you are, a princess once more. And I, your prisoner."
"You're not my prisoner, Prince Gregory."
"No. I am your sister's prisoner. She has put substantial effort into hiding that fact. Medical treatment. Three meals. Warm hearth." He lifted his right hand off the table. "No cuffs. My accommodations become more lavish with each relocation. This time, I have a room with a marvellous view. Is this good hospitality? Or an insult to a one-armed man who cannot escape through a window on the third floor?"
"These are arrangements for a guest whose presence has been kept secret for his own safety. Anna was attacked in Arendelle. We can't be certain your brother doesn't have spies."
"It doesn't matter. I didn't come for my safety." Gregory's hand formed a fist. Elsa heard his knuckles crack. "I came for my daughter."
She set the teapot down as quietly as she could. "I'm sorry."
"Should I believe she is dead simply because my captors say that she is?" Gregory's voice was tight. Controlled. "How convenient that you have already laid her to rest."
'There has been a tragic accident,' they told her. But it couldn't be true. How did she know it was true? What if it was another of Anna's tricks to lure her out of her room? It wasn't funny. It was cruel. Anna wouldn't do that. Anna was still crying outside her door. But it couldn't be true. Their parents couldn't be gone.
Elsa reminded herself to breathe.
Gregory hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She knew he was looking for cracks. Signs of deception. Elsa understood that desperation. The denial. She knew how to break it.
"Gregory. If your daughter… if Sofia is alive… don't you think we would already have used her as leverage for your cooperation?"
His face betrayed no reaction. Elsa knew, though, that concealing didn't mean not feeling.
"Your sister continually tells me neither of you are the type to resort to blackmail."
"We're also not in the business of lying—Anna, especially." Elsa slid a cup of tea towards him. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly.
Gregory stared down at his tea as if trying to divine meaning from its depths. When he looked up again, the grief had vanished from his eyes. He was a soldier once more, searching for a distraction. "You don't need my cooperation to trade me to Caleb for Arendelle's safety."
"I assure you, we have no intention of doing so."
"Your sister tells me the same thing. She says it like the thought has never occurred to her. I'm inclined to believe her. You, however." Gregory leaned forward. "Forgive me if I mistake your morals for pragmatism. You could deliver me to my brother and guarantee your kingdom's survival. Your sister and queen may disapprove, but is that enough to stop you from doing what you thought was best?"
Elsa met his unblinking gaze for a moment. Unlike Niklas, Gregory's eyes unerringly resembled Hans'.
She sipped her tea. Placed it back down. "I would not bring you to Caleb," she replied slowly, "because I don't think your brother values your head as highly as you believe. Surrendering you would not benefit Arendelle."
Gregory's lips spread in a grim smile. "Harsh words. Astute. Let us pretend, though, that it would make a difference. Would you have the stomach to deliver an injured man to your enemy's lair in order to protect your kingdom?"
"I don't understand the purpose of hypothetical questions."
"Why not? This war is so far hypothetical, isn't it? It would be just like Caleb to play mind games and watch you fret while he laughs from his throne."
"As much as I wish for that to be true, I don't think that is the case. A wise troll showed me a vision of a fleet sailing for Arendelle."
"I see," Gregory said in a tone that suggested he did not care about details. "Let us view this through a lens of inevitability, then. What would you do if Caleb broke through those impressive walls of yours, razed Arendelle to the ground, and mounted your sister's pretty head on a—"
The cups rattled on their saucers as Elsa slammed her hands down on the table. The fire in the hearth went out.
"Please," she said in a quiet, trembling voice. "Stop."
Gregory sat back in his chair, watching her. He reached for his tea, paused, and raised an eyebrow. Elsa closed her eyes and let out a long breath, unfreezing the tea.
Gregory drank it in one gulp. "That is what you are dealing with. I know the size of the Southern Isles' army and the depth of their discipline. I know Caleb. I also know that you, Arendelle's greatest weapon, are inexperienced in warfare. Your sister understands that score better than you think. She has come by every morning for the past two weeks, asking for my help in organising your kingdom's defence. She is asking me, a man who has lost his fleet and can barely swing a sword anymore, to fight under her banner."
Elsa's hands were still quivering. She clasped them together. Arendelle is fine. Anna is fine. She needs you to focus. "She's asking you because you are the Spear of the Southern Isles. You don't need to hold a sword. Your command sinks ships."
"Ships bearing my countrymen. Soldiers born on the same soil as me, dragged to the frontlines because it is treason to deny their mad king his ambitions. I may have killed many of them in my siege, but I did not do so lightly. So do not assume that it is a matter as simple as siding with my enemy's enemy."
In the first council meeting, it had seemed inane when Hakon Erling proposed the idea of throwing themselves into the Southern Isles' civil war by supporting Gregory's coup. Now, Elsa understood why the councillor had been so confident.
"You love your home." She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice.
"And you love yours," Gregory said, sounding almost impatient. "Tell me: if Arendelle were to lose this war, would you chase Caleb back to the Isles? And freeze everything that stood between you and revenge?"
Elsa refused to think of Pabbie's vision—of Anna lying crumpled and broken. A bridge untethered. "Why are you asking me this?"
Gregory looked at her as if it was obvious. "Because rage can make monsters of humans, and you are the only one who can tell me if my country will survive the destruction of yours."
She was only eight years old, but even she knew it wasn't normal for the northern lights to dance with such crimson malice. 'There is beauty in it,' the old troll murmured. 'But also great danger… Fear will be your enemy.'
"It won't come to that," Elsa heard herself say. "Arendelle will get through this."
"You make these promises as if you are a god. How much power do you think you hold? Your greatest weakness, Snow Queen, is that everyone knows what it is."
You're human, her little sister had told her.
Human.
The door burst open.
Elsa whipped around to see Oskar stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
Anna appeared a moment later, panting. "Oskar! Wait, I—" She broke off as she took in the scene.
Elsa backed towards her sister as Oskar walked dazedly forward. His wide eyes flicked wildly between Gregory's unshaven face to his missing arm. His mouth opened and closed. "Your Highness… I… Sofia…"
"I know, Oskar," Gregory said.
Clutching Gregory's sleeve, Oskar sank to his knees and began to cry.
This, Elsa thought as Anna squeezed her hand painfully tightly, was what it meant to be human.
OoOoO
"He probably hates me now. I can't blame him for it; I really should've told him sooner. If someone hid my precious person away and locked them up, I'd also…" Anna's gaze wandered to the ice walls looming over the fjord, so thick that they blocked out the fiery sunset and instead left Arendelle simmering in an awkward glow akin to that of an old bruise. "Never mind. Hey, are you even listening to me?"
The breeze indignantly swirled around her, making her bangs flutter against her brow.
"I'm kidding, Gale. You're an excellent listener. Wait—where did Ulf go?"
Anna caught sight of the snowy wolf on the other side of the courtyard. Ulf lay flat on the grass by the pond, ears twitching periodically as he eyed the ducklings. Anna didn't think he'd eat them; if anything, she worried the mother duck would get territorial. But wolf and ducks just watched each other, perfectly content with their differences.
Anna laughed to herself as a memory floated into her mind. "Tell you something funny, Gale? Elsa used to do exactly the same thing. She was so scared of touching the ducks she'd—"
"I would what?"
"Gah!" Only reflex and Gale's support kept Anna from falling out of the tree. She looked down, clutching her chest. "Elsa! Don't do that!"
"Gerda said you missed lunch, so I thought you might like a sandwich. If you'd rather I leave—"
"No!" Anna patted the branch. "You're hereby forgiven. Come join me."
Elsa regarded her amusement now suspended. "Are you sure? It's alright if you need space."
It had been so long since Elsa had been hesitant towards her that Anna barely recognised it. She kicked herself for running from Gregory's room and worrying her sister. "Don't be silly. Come on up. Here, give me that."
Elsa passed the sandwich, wrapped in a napkin, up to her. Yet her feet remained planted on the ground as she studied the tree with the expression of one doing mental calculus.
"Don't worry, sis; it's definitely strong enough to hold us both. Just put your foot on that knobby bit there. See it?" Then Anna remembered that night, so long ago; of the two of them huddled in front of a crackling fire and the conversation that had transpired while her sister freaked out over a splinter in Anna's finger. She gasped. "Wait. Am I about to witness your first time climbing a—"
Elsa held out her hands and leaves twirled at her feet, gracefully lifting and depositing her on the branch. "Thank you, Gale," Elsa smiled, adjusting her dress. To Anna, she offered a simple and angelic, "No."
Such a stinker.
"Traitor," Anna hissed at Gale. She took a bite of the sandwich, then stopped and looked down at it. "Did Gerda change her recipe or something?"
"Does it taste bad?" Elsa asked anxiously.
"Well, not really. It's just, uh, that's a lot of jam."
"You don't like lingonberries?"
"I love lingonberries. Tastes funny with pickles, though."
"Oh. I'll make you another one."
"Nah, I'm so hungry I could eat any—wait, what?" Anna nearly choked. "You made this?"
Elsa wore a bashful expression. "Gerda insisted. She said you might have more appetite if you knew I made it."
Was it strange to cry over a sandwich? The stress must be getting to her. Anna masked it by taking an enthusiastic bite. And another. "Besh sammich effer!"
Elsa beamed back.
Anna almost pointed out that she hadn't entirely skipped lunch; she'd eaten a cookie. And half of a second one, because Oskar had ended up sharing his with her. But that reminded her of Oskar on his knees, blubbering an endless stream of apologies into Gregory's sleeve, and that made swallowing painful.
"So, what did Gregory want to talk to you about? Did he even talk at all?"
"He did."
"And?"
"There's a chance he may help us."
Anna wondered if Gregory's lack of talkativeness had infected her sister. "But? I totally hear a 'but' coming up."
"Not quite. It's…" Elsa shook her head. "I'll fill you in later."
"Oh, just give it to me. You know I'm great at taking bad news. It's not like things can get much worse anyway." Was that a pessimistic or optimistic thing to say? She couldn't tell anymore.
"It's not necessarily bad news."
Anna narrowed her eyes. "Something's off about you, sis. Did he say something mean to you? I can tell the kitchen to put a heap of chilli in his dinner. Just say the word!"
"Calm down," Elsa laughed. She swung her feet back and forth as she gazed up at the scant foliage above them, more sky than leaves. For a moment, Anna's big sister seemed like a child again. Almost apologetically, she said, "I was just hoping we could not think about everything and… relax for a bit."
For a second, Anna just stared blankly. Then the guilt hit her like a stone. She bolted upright. "Are you tired? What am I saying? Of course you're tired! The whole kingdom's in this chaotic frenzy and I keep giving you and Kristoff things to do and you didn't even have time to rest after you got back from the Forest—and keeping up those walls must suck up all your energy and… and…" Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."
"That's not it, Anna. The walls don't take all my energy."
"Yes, they do!" Anna wailed in despair. "I'm not saying you aren't, you know, glamorous as always. But you look more like a glamorous zombie nowadays and it's all my fault." How could she have been so selfish? Kristoff must be drained, too. It had to be terrible if Elsa was bringing it up. What else had she missed?
Elsa shook her head. "Remember what I said? Arendelle is my home, too. Besides, you're the one who always called me a workaholic. I can handle this. You, on the other hand… you've been doing a great job, Anna. But even queens can break if they don't take a break, right?"
Anna blinked. Something about that familiar line—her line—felt like a lifeline tossed into a boiling sea. She used to be the one barging into Elsa's office, armed with picnic baskets and the very mantras her sister was now using against her. She'd conspire with Kai to clear the queen's agenda and somehow, Elsa would still dig up something else to work on, impervious to Anna's rational arguments about fatigue.
One ace card had always worked, though.
"I just miss you," Elsa said now, smiling sheepishly. "That's all."
There was nothing Anna could do except stare back at her sister. For some unfathomable reason, she was overcome with the impulse to laugh. Elsa started giggling, too, and soon they were collapsing into each other for support. Gale rustled branches, making it seem the old tree was laughing alongside them. Ulf ran in merry circles below them, barking at falling leaves.
Maybe it was irresponsible of them to be sitting around like this. For all they knew, the world could end tomorrow—tonight, even. There would always be more to do; more contingencies to plan; more ways to protect Arendelle. There was always more.
And more would come. Anna realised now that it was naïve to think that Arendelle only had to survive this war; that it would end with Caleb. Niklas had taught her that lesson. Wars had been started over a lot less than magic. War just happened, didn't it? If not violence, then some other form of disaster. Peace would come and go, no matter how desperately Anna clung to it.
Wasn't that what made it so precious? Wasn't that why photographers were suddenly inundated with business? Shopkeepers closed up early to be home with their families, parents watched sunsets with their children, and old friends finally confessed their love for each other. Time was moving fast, it was true; but life also seemed to be slowing down around them. Fear had reminded people to live.
Slow down, Feisty Pants, Kristoff was always telling her. Slow down.
She used to wish so badly for something like this—to simply be with her sister, talking and chatting and taking up space. Was she really going to let it pass her by?
A crazy idea popped into Anna's mind. "Hey, Elsa? Do you want to—"
"Yes." Her sister's smile shone dauntlessly. "We can do anything you want, Anna."
OoOoO
"Hi, I'm Olaf! And you are…?"
Hakon glanced up at the unwelcome visitor, then returned his attention back to his book. He'd read it three times in as many days, but that was none of the snowman's business.
"Hellooooo? It's rude to ignore people. Honestly, even snowgies know better. What's your name?"
Hakon turned the page. "Who's asking?"
"I'm Olaf! I told you! Are you Hakon?"
"Why are you asking if you already know?"
"I need to check I've got the right person. Anna said he'd be in the dungeon."
"Do you see anyone else down here?"
"Yes. Brodrick's on duty. Hi, Brodrick!"
Twitching, Hakon set the book aside. Better to get it over and done with. "You have the right person. What does the queen want with me?" He was surprised she wanted anything to do with him at all.
"Special delivery!" The snowman held out something through the bars. A brown oval case.
Hakon recognised it with one look. "She already sent me a new pair of glasses." The pair that had been cracked in Weselton still sat atop his books. She should have had them taken away; he could snap the frames and pick the lock. But he was no longer in the position to give her advice, was he?
"It never hurts to have a spare. Come on. My arm's getting tired. That's a figure of speech, by the way. I don't get tired. Oh, but I run out of breath when I run too fast. Isn't that funny? Because I don't have lungs?"
Sighing, Hakon got up and walked over. It took self control not to snatch the case from the snowman. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," the snowman replied happily, showing no signs of leaving. "Do you like them?"
Good lord. Was this her idea of punishing him? "I like them," Hakon deadpanned.
"You haven't even looked! Anna told me to make sure you looked inside."
"Did Her Majesty have anything else to say?"
"Hmm? Oh, she said plenty! She spent ages telling everyone exactly what to do while she and Elsa are gone. It's redundant if you ask me. We already made sure everyone knows what to do if the bad guys come. Anyway, Kristoff is in charge, Mattias is obviously on defence, Kai is—"
"To me," Hakon cut in. "Did the queen have anything else to say to me?" What was the point of national security if one of the queen's most trusted messengers was a talking snowman with the discretion of a bull on fire?
"Nope!"
He could sense a migraine building. "The queen and princess are going somewhere?"
"Yup! They're finally going to take a day off. Or a night off. Wow, it's nighttime already."
"A night off," Hakon repeated.
"Yeah, why?"
"At a time like this."
"Yeah, why?"
"I see."
"Of course you can—you've got glasses. Oh, I know what you're thinking: you think Anna and Elsa are slacking off, don't you?"
"No. It has nothing to do with me."
Perhaps she hadn't understood. Or perhaps she had understood and had merely chosen not to listen; not to believe him. Unsurprising; she wouldn't have been in the state of mind to listen to anything he said. He shouldn't have told her something so important after divulging… everything else. He hadn't meant to tell her about Agnarr and Iduna.
The strangest part was that her eyes had remained dry. While his hadn't. Pathetic.
"That's silly," Olaf dismissed, waving his twig arms through the air. He sat down on the other side of the bars, as if settling in for a long conversation. "Life's too short to mind our own business all the time. That would be so boring. I learn lots of cool things by not minding my own business. Did you know that the best leaders lead by example? That means Anna and Elsa's most important job is to be happy, so taking a break is the best thing they can do right now. Don't you agree?"
Hakon sat back down on the bed, eyeing the moonless sky beyond his barred window. "I think you have someplace else to be."
"Not really. I was super busy, but I finished all the super secret stuff Anna gave me to do, so now I have heaps of time to keep you company."
"I don't need company."
"But you look lonely."
"I am not lonely." He was no longer a boy shivering in a basement, taking refuge from his mother. He was far less than that; nothing more than a grown man rotting in a dungeon, hiding from reality. A coward to the end.
Olaf let out a wistful sigh. "Did you know the loneliest people are the ones who've been lonely for so long they can't tell they're actually lonely all the time?"
A/N: The sisters finally get a break next chapter! I actually feel really bad for putting Anna through all that stress... on the bright side, things are finally beginning to Happen so I'm excited. You know when you write a story just to make A Few Scenes a reality? We're finally getting there.
As always, thanks so much for reading! I appreciate the company more than words can express.
