~ Dedicated to my wife, LeAnn. Inspiring me to tell the stories of my heart. ~
Chapter: 1 The Lives We Lead
Serenity dwells in the skies above. There is a profound tranquility to the realm beyond the silver clouds and raucous world below. Clear air surges through an open atmosphere just teeming with life of its own. The peaceful silence of the sky is only interrupted by a unique trumpeting of sorts. An assortment of silky, pale-feathered wings emerges from behind the clouds. Like angels ascending to the Celestial Court, a flock of swans takes flight. Their beautiful wings are spread beyond the darkness of the world below and catch sunlight instead. The intricate, black markings on their faces are as regal as they are astounding. Bound together through love and freedom, this family of swans flies up to the highest height. As they soar, the youngest member of the flock flaps its wings to catch up. Upon doing so, one of its feathers sheds and drifts among the clouds.
A powerful gust of wind seizes this piece of plumage and has it spiraling through the sunlit sky. The feather twirls as the flock flies into regions unknown and ultimately plunges beneath the clouds. Gone is the sun which illuminated its white essence. Shadows drift over the feather as a frigid breeze blows it across a vast region. It spins and pivots over forested hills while mountain faces fade in the distance. Another mighty gust sends the innocent feather hovering over a bustling village. Its inhabitants can be heard shuffling about and seeking shelter before an imminent, summer downpour. The warmth of a nearby chimney elevates the feather to new heights until it glides towards a rippling fjord. Its waters have been darkened by the clustering clouds above and prepare to conclude the feather's journey. Before the fjord can claim the noble plume, a furious squall strikes the surface. Saltwater spews upward while the feather takes flight once more. It drifts beyond a thin, stone bridge and soars beneath a robust archway. Several figures step into an expansive courtyard while tall, wooden doors seal behind them. As the gates slam shut, they stop the feather in its tracks and send it plummeting to the ground below.
The feather lands atop one of many cobblestone slabs. It rests in silence, devoid of all wind and therefore all mobility. The sky only blackens further, thunder rumbles, and rain drizzles across the land. Tiny droplets patter against the cobblestone pathway until a woman's voice calls from within the courtyard. "Hold on," she says. "Open the gates."
"Open the gates!" a guard reiterates, hollering from atop the wall. Winches turn and the doors creak open. What light remains from the parting clouds glistens through the archway and onto the feather. A violet, rosemåled hem trails across the humble ground. The wearer of such a regal design kneels before the feather and scoops it into her soft palms. As she rises betwixt the drizzle, she finds herself captivated by the feather's luminous qualities. Its pure hue as her running a finger across its fluffy vanes. She cherishes the modest find while her bright blue eyes take in every inch of its simplistic beauty.
"Iduna?" a man calls from past the gates. His voice is enough to break her focus as she shelters the feather from the rain. "Iduna?" the man beckons again and she looks to him. Despite the cloudy skies, his bold epaulets still have a distinct shine to them. His calming, green gaze falls upon her as he asks, "Are you coming, dear?"
His question heralds more thunder as Iduna nods. "Of course, Agnarr."
"Is everything alright?" he worries.
"Something just caught my eye," she answers while they traverse the courtyard and enter their castle. As the gates reseal behind them, a torrential downpour ensues.
Rain taps away at the castle rooftops and droplets descend from its window panes. They gather in puddles on an upper window sill while a spritely reflection dashes across them. As the elements rage outside, this energetic youth paces throughout an expansive lounge. Her gaze is as determined as her mother's as she inspects her "troops." The child's freckled cheeks shift with her twitching pout as she examines the paintings around her.
She launches herself up to the nearest sofa and addresses the gallery of artwork. "Alrighty!" Princess Anna decrees. She drops down and folds her arms behind her back, mimicking her father's pensive mannerisms. "When this storm ends, it'll leave the biggest...most splash-worthy puddles anyone has ever seen," she says. "This is our big chance to get Elsa to really come out and play!" Anna huffs and scratches her chin. "But how? Time is ticking and the floor is open to ideas." She crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently when the paintings don't respond. "Okay," she sighs. "I'm gonna start calling on people then!"
Anna twirls towards a painting of several dancers. There's a brief pause as the little princess shakes her head in response. "That won't work," she says. "I can't play any instruments. Next idea!"
The princess leaps up to a portrait of a swinging maiden. Pretending to use an imaginary swing set beside her, Anna sways back and forth while 'listening' to the woman. "Uhuh," Anna acknowledges. "Mhm...I see what you're going for, but where are we gonna get that much chocolate?"
Anna sighs and drops down beside the paintings. "What's the use?" she mopes. "Elsa's never gonna leave her room. I should just give up." Anna sulks and clunks her head on a wall in surrender. In that instant, it's as if the painting above her has spoken. Anna's blue eyes widen as she gasps and peers upward. "What was that, Joan?" she queries and stares longingly at the portrait. It depicts an armor-clad woman with her sword and shield raised for battle. Anna swallows hard as if listening to what the great Joan of Arc has to say. As the silence persists, Anna's brows relax as if she's taking in words only she can hear. "Just ask her?" Anna whispers. "But I've tried that a bazillion times already! She's just gonna say no. Maybe it's me that's the problem, and I-" Anna cuts herself off and listens to the painting again. "You're right, Joan," she admits. "I can't stop trying. No matter how hard it gets. I need to be brave like you!"
Little Anna straightens her posture and glances at Joan of Arc. She tries to replicate the painting's bold expression and starts stomping away. "I'm gonna march right up to Elsa's door," Anna affirms. "I'm gonna knock on it loud and proud...and say-" As Anna turns, she bumps into Iduna's legs. "-Mama?"
"Who were you talking to, my little crocus?" Iduna giggles and kneels before her child.
Anna nervously fidgets with her auburn pigtails. A unique streak of platinum blonde lays entwined between her tresses. Her frantic eyes find the floor particularly interesting as her mother worries for her. As imaginative as Anna can be, she finds herself embarrassed to have been talking to paintings. "Um..." she mumbles. "No one."
Iduna worries about Anna's resigned tone and soothingly caresses her cheek. "Is something wrong?" she asks.
"It's Elsa," Anna confesses. "I really miss her and just wanna play. When the storm ends, things will be perfect for puddle jumping. So I just thought maybe...Elsa would like jumping in puddles too. Maybe she'll come out and play with me."
Iduna purses her lips and sighs heavily. "Things with your sister are...complicated."
"But they've been complicated!" Anna impulsively blurts and regrets interrupting.
Iduna places a comforting hand on her child's shoulder and looks deeply into her eyes. "I understand that you're frustrated. Trust me, I am too at times. But I have to believe that it'll all makes sense one day."
"And we'll all be together?" Anna asks and Iduna's heart sinks.
The queen composes herself and tries to be strong for both of them. "Yes," she assures. Anna falls into Iduna's embrace as she squeezes her daughter tight. "I'm so sorry, my darling." As she holds her sniffling child close, she observes the various paintings the princess has spent time with over the years. "Why don't I play with you?" Iduna suggests.
Anna dries the tears on her freckled cheeks. "Really?" she asks.
"I can't say I'll jump in any puddles," Iduna teases while tickling Anna's tummy. "But I do have a gift for you." The princess' gaze is aglow with curiosity as Iduna says, "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."
Anna bites her lip with anticipation and eagerly bounces until a unique softness graces her palms. "It's-" From the moment Anna opens her eyes, her enthusiasm dwindles and is replaced by utter bewilderment. "-a feather?" she questions.
"A swan feather." Iduna explains.
Anna flashes a confused look as she examines the plumage. "That's it?" she inquires while trying to be grateful.
"Well that is up to you," Iduna says and Anna raises a brow. Her mother raises hers right back and smirks at the princess. She leans in close and gestures to the feather. "You see, Anna...Like so many wonderful things in life, this beautiful little feather is what you make of it. You alone can turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. Is it really a feather...or so much more? Your imagination decides." Anna looked to the feather once more, this time letting her creative mind roam freely. "What do you see?" Iduna asks.
"I see...a key!" Anna proposes and Iduna tilts her head with intrigue. The princess holds up the feather and says, "A magical key to take us anywhere and open any door! Even Elsa's!"
Iduna's grin fades as she contemplates whether or not the feather was a good idea. In that moment, a fine-gloved hand knocks on the nearby doorframe. The steward's balding head and bulbous nose make him unmistakeable for anyone else. "Pardon me, your majesty," he says. "Your insight is requested over the new legislation."
Iduna nods and replies, "Thank you, Kai. I'll be right there." She glances down at her disappointed daughter. "I'm sorry, dear. I have to go."
"But...you said you'd play with me," Anna murmurs and hangs her head.
Iduna lovingly takes Anna's hand and smiles sympathetically. "I would love nothing more than to do so," she says. "But sometimes my duties as queen mean I have to care for Arendelle too." She kisses Anna's forehead and rises towards the doorway. "I'll be back, little crocus. I love you."
"Love you too, Mama." Anna mopes.
As her mother departs, Kai approaches and finds the seat closest to the princess. "Don't worry, Anna." Kai reassures. "I'll play with you until she gets back!" While she appreciates his enthusiasm, his proposal falls flat. "We can have a tea party or read fairytales. We could even bake some-"
"Thanks Kai," Anna interjects. She slouches forward and stuffs the swan feather into her pocket. "But I don't really feel like playing anymore." Thunder booms outside as Kai watches Anna trudge off on her own.
As Anna departs from the lounge, King Agnarr traverses a quiet corridor on the floor above. The storm only darkens the hall as he approaches a bedroom door. A flash of lightning illuminates the azure patterns painted across its white frame. Agnarr glances over his shoulder, making sure no one is watching him. Once he's sure that the hall is vacant, he discreetly withdraws a key from his pocket and unlocks the door. There's an alarming chill in the air as he steps into the bedroom and seals himself in. He ensures that the door is locked behind him and stares into the darkness.
The chill only worsens once he's fully inside. Agnarr rubs his arms for warmth while clouds of vapor flee his lips. He shudders and shivers at the sight of frost creeping across the walls. Icy fractals extend like frigid appendages, reaching out to freeze the room. "Oh no," Agnarr utters. "Elsa?" he beckons. When she doesn't respond, he rushes towards her bed and turns over the blanket. His heart sinks when all he finds is an empty mattress. "Elsa!" he panics and even overturns the pillows. "Where are you?"
Agnarr's breaths hasten as he scours the bedroom in search of his daughter. He checks under the bed and flings open her wardrobe. When all else fails, the king pulls the curtains to check behind them. As he stands in a tizzy, lightning streaks across the windows and highlights a pair of feet tucked away in the furthest corner.
Princess Elsa may be curled up in a ball, but she is far from present. She holds herself close as her unblinking, teary eyes stare off into the darkness. Her bare hands clench at her legs as if she's enduring tremendous pain. For Elsa, her father's calls and the roaring thunder are nothing more than a muffled blur. The child's mind drifts elsewhere as another pair of voices calls to her.
Elsa hears her own voice accompanied by her sister's. They're younger and far more cheerful as they sneak into the castle's ballroom. Elsa's using her wondrous ice magic to create joyous marvels for the two of them. "Catch me!" Anna shouts as Elsa creates snowy peaks for her to land on.
Elsa's heart races while she relives that fateful night. As her anxiety increases, so too does the magnitude of her power. Agnarr tries to approach her as snow descends from the ceiling.
"Again!" Anna cheers and leaps to another peak.
"Wait!" Elsa pleads. The ice magic dwindles in her palms as she panics. "Slow down!" Elsa slips as her sister continues to jump without a peak. Desperate to save her, Elsa sends her power surging forward. "Anna!" she cries out. Elsa's body stiffens when her magic accidentally strikes Anna across the head and sends her tumbling downward.
"No!" Elsa screams as tears flee her eyes. An icy whirlwind intensifies throughout the bedroom as she whimpers. "It's all my fault. All my-"
"Elsa!" Agnarr yells and slides to her side. "Control it!"
"I don't know how!" she weeps as he kneels amidst the winds.
"Yes you do," Agnarr insists. "Remember everything we've gone over. Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't let it show. Together now..."
"C-conceal it," Elsa stutters. "D-d-don't feel it..."
Agnarr holds on to her shoulder and endures an icy sting. "Don't let it show," he says with her.
"Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't let it show," they repeat together. With each reiteration, Agnarr watches as the snowfall ceases around them. The cold winds come to a halt and leave the king catching his breath.
As he leans back against the wall, Elsa grasps at his arm. "I'm sorry, Papa," she sobs.
"It's alright," he answers and rubs her back. "It's over for now." His brows furrow when he notices her hands. "Elsa...what happened to your gloves?"
"I was trying to go a day without them," Elsa replies. "We'd been making so much progress, I thought maybe I could try controlling my powers. I started with a snowball, but then it just made me think about...that night."
Agnarr sighs and shakes his head. "We can't control what we don't understand. Focus on concealing your magic now, Elsa. One day you'll be queen, and there won't be room to do so and manage Arendelle. I'm trying to prepare you for the future."
"I understand, Papa." Elsa says. She nervously brushes the blonde locks from her face. "But...about my gloves."
Agnarr raises a suspicious brow. "What about them?" he inquires. Elsa points towards a stuffed animal on her nightstand. The king approaches the tiny puffin and notices that its cloak has been fashioned from Elsa's gloves. Agnarr smirks and chuckles to himself. "I'll get you a new pair," he insists.
Kai is dusting several shelves when a tiny silhouette emerges behind him. "Anna," he remarks. "I almost didn't hear you come in."
"Is something wrong with me?" Anna asks and Kai immediately lowers his duster.
"I beg your pardon?" the servant inquires.
Anna sinks into a nearby seat and twiddles her thumbs. "What if I'm the reason Elsa won't come out of her room?" Kai is already shaking his head as Anna continues. "If I did something bad, I'm really sorry-"
"Oh no, your highness." Kai insists and brings his voice down to a comforting tone. "You didn't do anything bad and none of this is your fault."
He wrinkles his nose as her brows furrow. "But something is wrong then." Anna insists. "I haven't seen my big sister in years and no one will tell me why. But if it's not my fault...then who's fault is it?"
Kai huffs and tightly grips his feather duster. "Maybe no one is to blame," he answers. "Sometimes things just...happen. I think the best choice you can make right now is to trust your parents. They know what's best." As Kai returns to dusting, Anna is left to think over his words.
Come dinnertime, the storm outside has settled and an assortment of puddles remain untouched. The only thing Anna finds herself plunging into is a deep and deafening silence. There's a heaviness in the dining hall as servants set out meals. Agnarr sits at the head of the table, complimenting the cooks on a marvelous presentation. Iduna is at his right, sipping from her glass and looking across at Anna. She offers her child a playful wink and his concerned when Anna sulks back.
"Here you go, sweetheart," an older woman says as she places a plate in front of Anna. The princess observes the alluring display of meats and fresh vegetables assembled on her plate. "Trimmed, seasoned and separated," the woman says. "Just the way you like it." Only one servant could be so meticulously considerate.
"Thanks Gerda," Anna says and prods the steak with her fork.
"Anything for the princess," Gerda replies.
While she dines with her parents, she can't help but notice the vast section of the table which remains unused. Mostly, she fixates on the vacant seat beside her and tries to recall a time where Elsa dined with them.
"How's your meal?" Iduna asks to pull Anna back into the moment.
"Fine," the princess mutters. Her tone catches Agnarr's attention and he concernedly keeps an eye on her.
Gerda returns from the kitchen with a separate meal concealed on a tray. "I'll be right back," she tells the family as Agnarr nods to her.
"Actually," Anna blurts and Gerda pauses. All eyes fall upon the princess as she swallows hard. Her hands shake as she considers whether or not she should proceed. While she worries about the consequences, she considers how strong Joan of Arc must've been. Seeking to replicate that valiance, Anna holds her head up high.
"What's the matter, Princess Anna?" Gerda asks.
Anna clears her throat and glances at the servant. "I know who that tray is for," she dares to say. "Can you leave it down here? Please?"
"Now Anna-" Agnarr begins. "You know your sister needs to eat too."
"I know," Anna intones. "That's why I want her to eat with us." A daunting silence follows her request as Agnarr and Iduna look at each other. "What?" she asks and turns to Gerda. "You said 'anything for the princess' right? Well I wanna eat with my sister."
"Darling," Iduna tries to placate. "Elsa can't come down."
Anna's lips curl into a pout. "Then I'll come up." She forcefully grabs her plate and tries to leave the table with it.
"Absolutely not," Agnarr asserts. While his voice comes off as authoritative, a deep fear hides within. He focuses on the streak in Anna's hair. For Agnarr, it is a constant reminder of the night that their lives changed forever. He thinks about what he witnessed earlier and quivers at the thought. He's so nervous that he doesn't realize how aggressive he's coming off as. "You know the rules," he dictates.
"I know them," Anna snaps back. "I just don't understand why they have to be there!"
"Anna," Iduna worries as the child raises her voice.
"It's not fair!" Anna yells.
"Young lady," Agnarr responds and tries to keep a cool head. "Mind your tone."
Anna slouches back and crosses her arms. Her freckled face flushes with red and she looks as though she's about to burst. Noticing this, Iduna places a calming hand on Agnarr's shoulder and tries to reach out to Anna. "Crocus," she calls. "I know it's a lot to try and understand right now, but let's all just take a breather. Let's wait and-"
Iduna gasps as all of Anna's emotions boil over into an explosive outburst. The princess slams her fist on the table and rattles silverware. "All I've done is wait!" she shouts.
Agnarr instantly rises from his seat and jabs a finger towards the doorway. "Go to your room," he commands. "Now."
Although Anna and Agnarr stare each other down, there is a sorrow beneath their gazes. "For how long?" Anna asks, her voice cracking as she holds back tears. "Forever? Like Elsa?"
Her questions shake Agnarr to his core. He finally exhales through his flaring nostrils and sinks back into his seat. He doesn't loom over Anna and is at a loss for words. His head hangs forward and he pinches the bridge of his broad nose.
Iduna soothingly rubs his back and looks to Anna. "Your father just needs a moment," she says. "I'll meet you upstairs, okay?"
"Just like you said you'd play with me?" Anna grumbles and dashes upstairs.
"Anna!" Iduna calls to no avail.
The queen sighs as her husband shakes his head. "What are we doing, Iduna?" Agnarr laments in a somber tone.
"We're all trying our best," she answers and he responds with a broken smile.
Anna runs across the castle's dark corridors and halts at her sister's bedroom. "Elsa," she sniffles and offers a quintuple knock. "Please come out. I miss you and...all I want is for us to be together. Please." Although she is concerned about Anna's cracking voice, Elsa doesn't respond. She simply leans against the door as fear keeps her from answering. Anna can only take so much silence and her teardrops patter against the carpeting outside. Elsa listens until her little sister's footsteps fade down the hall.
The door to Anna's bedroom is flung open as the princess scurries in. She slams it shut, locks it, and opens her bedside window. Anna practically throws herself against the sill and whimpers into her arms. A gentle breeze calls for her to raise her weary head and she glances at the cloudy skies. Anna feels utterly hopeless. Trapped in a castle where love feels incomplete. There isn't even a star for her to wish upon in such a dreary sky. As she longs for any sliver of peace, Anna withdraws the swan feather from her pocket. She stares into it longingly and tries to focus on the love her mother exemplified when she gave it to her. Despite her best efforts, Anna's sadness gets the best of her.
"There's no need for us to both be trapped here," Anna tells the feather. With an open palm and mournful blow, she sets it free.
A gentle breeze carries the swan feather far from Anna's window. She watches with teary eyes as the winds lift it high into the clouds above. Once it disappears from view, Anna shuts her window and curls up in bed.
The feather dances on a breeze and delves across clouds unknown. It's in those moments that a wind like no other blows in from the east. This surging gust sends the feather soaring to new heights...and into a white-gloved hand.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of this magical journey! I'll see you next Saturday for Chapter: 2!
Long Live Imagination,
~ Michael