The Next Unknown
4 – A Question of Whether
OoOoO
It was, without a doubt, the messiest room he had seen in his life. Oskar halted in the doorway, unable to fathom how anyone could walk through that. Then the Queen of Arendelle demonstrated, clipping nearly every precariously balanced book stack on her way to the desk. In contrast, the queen's sister practically glided through the labyrinth—and she was the one with the sinuous dress. Ice powers or not, Oskar decided he was safer following in her wake.
The queen hopped onto one leg to slip off her shoes; when she lost her balance, her sister steadied her without breaking stride as she brushed past. The barefoot queen smiled.
Then she seemed to remember Oskar, standing incongruously in the middle of her office, and the corners of her lips tugged back down. She leaned back on the desk and crossed her arms rather imperiously. "Sit."
The only seat in sight was buried under paperwork. "Where, Your Majesty?"
Paper rustled as a light gust blew into the room—and a chair materialised behind him. It was unexpectedly ornate, made of the same sparkling ice that had encased the fjord. Oskar tried to keep the battle between awe and fear under wraps as he turned to the Ice Witch, who was rummaging through the desk's drawers. What had Kristoff said about her again? Thanking her?
Oskar started when her cool blue eyes flickered to his.
"It's just a chair; nothing more," she said in a light voice that was nothing like the authoritative one he'd heard her use in the Great Hall. Like her sister's, there was a musical ring to it.
Rule three: show no weakness.
Oskar planted himself down. He shifted to confirm that she had been telling the truth; the ice didn't freeze him to the chair. He could leap up and run if needed—very easily, too, since the chair was low enough that his feet could actually touch the floor. Was that a coincidence?
"Are you comfortable?"
Not a coincidence.
Oskar nodded. Then, after a pause, muttered, "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Elsa," the queen hissed over her shoulder. "What happened to the plan?"
"Sorry. I'll be quiet." Finding a fresh sheet of parchment, the princess picked up a quill and started writing.
The queen's narrowed eyes returned to Oskar. "So," she began.
He sneezed.
"Bless you—" the queen and princess said, but Oskar wasn't done. He sneezed again. And a third time. Then half of a fourth.
When he opened his watery eyes, the queen's concerned face was in front of his. The comically sinister expression was gone. "Are you okay? Did you catch a cold?" Her hand touched his forehead; Oskar didn't have the time or sense to flinch. "Doesn't feel like you have a fever, at least. Elsa, can you pass me the blanket on the back of the chair?"
Before Oskar registered what was happening, he was bundled up in a thick cable-knit blanket the colour of spring grass, unable to see anything but the top of braided head as the queen knelt and tucked the blanket around his lap. "What are you doing?"
"Keeping the feet warm is super important when you're sick. Trust me on this. I'm a veteran."
Rule two: trust no one.
"No," Oskar said impatiently. "What are you doing?" To me. For me.
"I literally just said—" She stopped and looked up at him. Then she covered her face and groaned. "Darn it! This isn't working, Elsa! He's just a kid. And he looks nothing like Hans."
"I can see that," her sister replied without looking up.
"I am not just a kid," Oskar scowled. "And that's because Hans isn't my father."
"Of course he's not; I figured that out myself. But it would be easier for me to be mean to you if you had, I don't know—sideburns, or something."
"If I did, would I already be in a cell?"
The queen stared at him. Behind her, her sister's head also came up.
Oskar glowered at both of them.
Then their identical eyes did the same bewildering thing: they softened.
"Are you sure you're twelve, buddy?" the queen asked gently.
Rule one: Westergaards are lions, not mice.
"Are you sure you're the queen?" Oskar shot back.
There. He'd drawn first blood. He'd shown her the danger of underestimating him.
So why in the world was she laughing? "Are you sure you're a prince of the Southern Isles?"
Oskar clenched his jaw and raised his chin. "Yes."
"Just checking. You're awfully honest for one." Still grinning, the queen stood and reached over his head.
He absolutely did not flinch.
She took down a box of chocolates that had apparently been resting atop a book stack. She offered it to him, and rolled her eyes when he refused. "It's not poisoned or anything. Look." She popped one into her mouth. Then another.
"I'm not paranoid. I just don't like chocolate."
"What? Impossible! Did you hear that, Elsa? Oh, do you want the last salted caramel?"
Oskar didn't realise when exactly he had relaxed into his chair. Between the blanket that smelled like summer and the clothes Kristoff had asked a maid to purchase when they hadn't been able to find anything in his size, Oskar was warmer than he'd felt in a long time.
No. He wasn't going to break rule two.
The queen lined up thirteen chocolates on her desk and clapped her hands together. "Let's play a game. If this end is Caleb, and that end is Hans, which one is your father, Oskar?"
"You've got to be kidding me."
She grinned back and made an encouraging flourish at the chocolates.
Sighing, Oskar got up and walked over to the desk, the blanket trailing after him. He jabbed a finger at the fifth chocolate. This was pointless. This was childish. This was—
He looked up in time to catch the queen casting a relieved glance at her sister.
This was a trap.
He frowned. "You already knew who my father was."
Startled eyes snapped back to him. Then dropped guiltily. "Um… we guessed. Well, I guessed. Elsa hypothesised."
And suddenly Oskar was livid—but not at the Queen of Arendelle or even her watchful, unreadable Snow Queen of a sister. He was a fool. A fool for thinking that he could play this game better than someone who would leap into the freezing water for a stranger; who had stood up in front of his people with that earnest face of hers and said, I don't think I'll ever regret saving you.
For thinking that someone like her didn't have a rule two of her own.
"You were testing to see if I would lie."
OoOoO
It was only because Anna was turned away from her that Elsa saw her sister's hands clench behind her back. What she couldn't see was Anna's face, and if she was being truthful, Elsa was glad. She didn't want to know.
Because she knew that what Anna had actually wanted to do was invite Oskar Westergaard to dinner. Anna would have coaxed him to talk over dessert instead of marching him into the study with interrogation plans Elsa had known neither of them would have the heart to carry out. .
The worst part was that Elsa could tell Anna hadn't meant to test him at all. Yet, instead of clearing the misunderstanding, Elsa watched her little sister—the queen—remain silent. She saw Anna struggling to conceal, don't feel, and wondered how much of it was her fault.
"Were you planning to lock me up if I lied?" Oskar's voice was devoid of emotion.
Twelve years old, Elsa reminded herself. He was twelve years old. But he was also a Westergaard, and though it didn't show in his appearance, it certainly did in his suspicion. This was a child who had been pursued by his own family, barely survived five days at sea, and had come expecting chains around his ankles. To him, sympathy was an insult, and empathy nothing more than a ruse.
Elsa saw Anna's arms rise as if to hug him, only to drop back to her side. "You won't be locked up no matter what you choose to say, Oskar. But we appreciate you telling us the truth."
"How can you be so sure that I did? Eleven of King Johan's thirteen sons are married. I could be any of his thirty-one grandchildren."
Anna did a double-take. "Thirty-one?"
"We recalled you mentioning your father had a fleet," Elsa said, replacing the quill. "Very few soldiers would be willing to risk their lives and families revolting against their rightful king. It would take an exceptional leader to rally enough men to challenge Caleb." She turned the paper around and slid it across the desk. "Someone like Prince Gregory, the Spear of the Southern Isles."
Both Anna and Oskar stared down at the family tree Elsa had drawn. Thirteen names were evenly spaced at the bottom of the sheet.
"Whoa," Anna said. "This is a lot more detailed than what you told me. How do you just know all their names off the top of your head?"
For the same reason Anna was able to knit a scarf in a day, fold practically anything out of paper, and wield a sword skilfully enough to impress General Mattias. She'd had the time. What Elsa actually said, though, was: "I did my research after my sister nearly married into their family."
"Oh my God. Do you have to remind me every time?"
Elsa smiled and picked out another chocolate.
"You could have done a lot worse than Hans," Oskar said offhandedly.
"Imagine if Crown Prince Caleb had come to Elsa's coronation. Actually, maybe that would've worked out better; my evil radar would have gone off and warned me to stay away. At least Hans didn't murder anyone. Well—successfully, anyway."
"Wait. You think Caleb killed the king?"
Elsa looked at Oskar in surprise. "Did he not?"
"Then who did?" Anna's gaze flicked down the diagram and widened in dread as it considered the thirteenth name. And Elsa found that she didn't want to hear Oskar say that name, either, because despite his abhorring plots, Anna had sincerely loved Hans, at least for a few hours.
"The twins," Oskar answered.
"… Who?" Anna asked blankly.
He jerked his head at the family tree. "Rudi and Runo. You got them the wrong way around, by the way; Runo is older. And uglier. They caused some big trouble in Corona and nearly blew our alliance with them. The king was furious because this wasn't like Hans screwing up in Arendelle; the Isles can't afford to lose an ally like Corona. So the twins were exiled. Left to be punished as Corona saw fit."
"The king disowned them? Just like that? But they were family."
"So?" Oskar didn't seem to understand Anna's shock. "Anyway, the twins broke out of Corona's prison, snuck back in the middle of the night, and the next morning, Caleb was king of the Southern Isles."
Anna was silent.
"What else can you tell us about what's happening in the Southern Isles?" Elsa asked.
"Oh, now you trust me, do you?"
She glanced at Anna's pale face. "I trust you because my sister does."
"No, she doesn't," Oskar scoffed. "She didn't."
"She wasn't sure if you would tell the truth; that is different to not trusting you. You already pointed out that King Johan had many grandchildren. Most of them haven't been seen or documented outside of the Southern Isles; anyone could claim to be one of them." Oskar opened his mouth, but Elsa went on. "We wouldn't be having this conversation at all if Anna hadn't believed you from the beginning. She took you for your word when you told us you were running from Caleb. She trusted that you are who you claim to be, and so she also trusted what her experiences with members of your family have taught her. She rightfully suspected you, as you understandably suspected us.
"We're now comfortable trusting that you have nothing to gain from deceiving us." Elsa nudged the inkwell and quill towards Oskar. "But I also think that you wouldn't have revealed your identity so willingly, Prince Oskar of the Southern Isles, if you did not, on some level, trust Anna, too."
Oskar blustered, "If you think I owe her anything just because she saved me—"
"You don't owe me a thing, little guy," Anna said. "I promise."
Watching them, Elsa felt like she was no longer in the room. Anna had told her about finding Oskar in the fjord—about why he had barely been able to stay afloat. Then, when Kristoff shared that Oskar seemed to believe his adopted sister had died because of him, Anna had teared up so badly that Elsa and Kristoff had nearly cracked their heads together in their rush to comfort her.
Oskar blinked as if snapping from a trance. He jerked away, then he snatched up the quill, muttering, "Stop calling me 'little'."
Elsa joined Anna on the other side of the desk as Oskar started scribbling over the diagram.
"The fighting started because the twins were stupid enough to brag about killing the king. Obviously, the sentence is death. But Caleb let Rudi and Runo get away unpunished, and even reinstated their titles. He's been pressuring King Johan to step down for years, see, so to him it was like the twins had done him a favour."
Oskar crossed out the second name on the list. "Still, things wouldn't be this bad if Aksel hadn't challenged Caleb to a duel for the throne. He lost and yielded. Caleb killed him anyway."
"What?" Anna clutched Elsa's arm. "But he yielded!"
"Aksel was popular among the people, so Caleb probably thought he was still a threat. Or maybe he just wanted to make an example out of him. Aksel wasn't smart enough to hide his family before the duel, so Caleb had them brought in before he—"
"Thank you, Oskar," Elsa cut in, her mouth dry. She took Anna's hand and stepped in front of her. "We understand the… situation."
Oskar glanced curiously behind her. Elsa shifted so he wouldn't be able to see Anna's face buried between her shoulder blades, or the way she gripped Elsa's hand so tightly it hurt.
"Whatever. Rudi and Runo obviously sided with Caleb. Hendrick, too; he's always thought of Caleb as some sort of shining knight. Lars is third oldest and has never been interested in anything but books. When he saw what happened to Aksel, he fled the country with his wife and children. So did Franz and Niklas, but they both married princesses from Blavenia so word on the street is that Blavenian now has plans to take down Caleb and put one of them on the throne. Jurgen, Sigurd and Erik left the Isles as soon as they got married and haven't been back in years—but who knows what they're cooking up in Zaria and Kongsberg now that everything's gone to hell."
The pieces clicked together in Elsa's mind. She had wondered why the refugees had specifically travelled to Arendelle when there were shorter and safer routes to other nations. With the feuding princes scattered across their closest neighbours, the Southern Isles faced more potential enemies than allies. In contrast, Arendelle looked like a sanctuary—and, to Caleb, exploitable.
"What about Hans?" Anna asked hesitantly.
Oskar shrugged. "He's gone."
"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Anna's eyes darted between Hans's name and the messy marks that had erased Aksel's.
"When I say gone, I mean gone. Geez. No one knows where he is. King Johan demoted him for the embarrassment in Arendelle; he's been polishing horse shoes and shovelling manure these last few years, so it's not like anyone bothered to keep an eye on him. As soon as word got out that the king was dead, Hans vanished. It's not like he could've cut a better deal with Caleb in charge."
"So he's okay." Anna sounded relieved.
"Could be dead. Could be halfway to India. Who knows. Who cares?" Oskar tossed the quill down, leaving spatters of black across the names of his twelve uncles.
"And your father?" Elsa prompted. "Tell us about Prince Gregory."
Looking glum, Oskar started stacking the chocolates into a tower. "What is there to tell? He's the best admiral in the navy. Never lost a battle on the water. That's why they call him the Spear."
"Why were you not with him when everything started?"
"He was away on a military exercise. The first thing Caleb did was send men to pick me up. Smartest move he's made since becoming king. You don't go up against Prince Gregory without insurance."
"He's your father, Oskar," Anna told him. "You can call him that. We're not going to hold it against you."
"We don't have that kind of relationship."
"Well, I'm sure we'll get to know each other—"
"Not you. Me and Prince Gregory. We don't have that kind of relationship."
"Oh… but hey, you made it here," Anna said awkwardly. "Your father came back for you."
Oskar frowned. "Yeah."
"So why didn't you escape on his ship? Why come here instead?"
"It was too dangerous."
"Dangerous? You nearly died trying to reach Arendelle. How is that not—"
"It's already started." Oskar pulled the blanket Anna had given him tighter around his shoulders. "Caleb was executing one staff member a day. He didn't want to give Prince Gregory time to gather more soldiers. It worked; Prince Gregory distracted Caleb so we could get away, and then he launched a siege to buy more time."
He paused, then repeated: "It's already started."
Elsa and Anna turned to each other as they registered what Oskar had said. What it meant.
Councillor Belland's advice had been logical: Caleb's threats were hollow while he was distracted by the coup. As long as Prince Gregory's rebellion stood, Arendelle was safe. Sieges could last months. Possibly years.
Or they could be shattered in weeks.
"Oskar?" Anna said slowly. "What are your father's chances of winning?"
"As long as he has the men, he'll find a way."
"… Do you think he has enough men?"
Oskar carefully stacked the last chocolate, then stepped back. The three of them viewed his handiwork in silence. The tower stood flimsy and narrow, thirteen brown blocks high. Each piece was even and balanced. Each had its own place.
Then Oskar stamped one boot hard on the floor, and everything came crashing down.
OoOoO
"He might have caught a cold, so please keep an eye on him and send for the physician if he starts running a temperature. Oh, and he can keep this blanket; I can knit another one in no time. Maybe we should ask the kitchen to make some chicken soup for him—for everyone, actually. Oskar? Do you like chicken soup?"
He crawled into his bedroll, knowing she would keep talking anyway.
"Chicken soup tomorrow, then," she told the maid.
It was quiet in the Great Hall. Most people had already turned in for the night, the dazzle of brilliant chandeliers replaced by the mild glow of wall sconces. Good—he didn't want to talk to anyone. Didn't want them asking if he knew what he was doing because Westergaards were lions and the answer couldn't be no.
"Do you want an extra pillow? Something to hug?"
Why was she still here? "I don't need you to tuck me in."
She did it anyway.
"You're not going to stay and watch me sleep, are you?"
"Nah. Just felt like sitting down for a bit. I've been up all day. Do you mind?"
"You're the queen. Do whatever you want." He rolled onto his side, facing away from her.
She started humming quietly. It wasn't bad. But it wasn't good, either, because Sofia used to hum and sometimes sing when she thought no one could hear her.
"Oi."
"Rude."
"Fine. Your Majesty."
"That's not my name," she sang.
"I'm not going to call you by your name."
"Why not, Oskar?"
"We're not friends."
"Can't we be?"
Then he was on his back again, frowning up at her. "Why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me?"
She cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"
"I'm twelve and I can see everything wrong with that."
"Oh? Is someone proud to be a kid now?"
Huffing, he rolled back over.
She fixed the blanket around him.
He wanted to yell into the pillow. "You're doing this all wrong, you know."
"Is there a scientifically proven way to tuck someone in?"
"I meant being queen."
Soft laughter. "Probably. I've heard that one before."
Did nothing upset this ludicrous person? No, that wasn't right. She'd hidden behind her sister when he had described Caleb killing Aksel. And when she had seen Sofia's body, she'd looked ready to cry on his behalf. It was infuriating, the way she got upset for others, but not herself.
"Then stop," Oskar told her.
"Good idea. I'll abdicate to Olaf first thing tomorrow. You've met Olaf, haven't you?"
"Stop being nice."
"In general? Or just to you?"
He didn't say anything.
"Hey," she said lightly. "Sure, there's a lot of bad news hanging over our heads right now… but none of this is your fault, Oskar. And you have every right to be frustrated and angry. You understand that, don't you?"
She had no idea.
"Go away, Anna."
A strangled sound. Had he finally agitated her?
But when he cracked open an eye, he saw that she'd stuffed a fist into her mouth and was biting back giggles.
"What?" he demanded, turning towards her for the umpteenth time.
She waved a hand until she had enough breath to say, "It's just… my sister used to say that to me all the time. We didn't see each other much, so I'd keep bugging her until she gave up and talked to me, even if it was just to tell me to go away. And now look at us."
"I'm not going to become your sister," he said flatly. "Or your friend."
"That's okay; baby steps. I'm very patient. Depending on who you ask."
There was no way he was going to sleep until she left. Except she kept talking and at some point she started stroking his hair, and he wanted to push her away and tell her he wasn't falling for any of it… but then the silence would invite burning ships to sail across the black of his eyelids, only to sink, and sink, and sink, and no matter how hard he swam, and swam, and swam, he would never reach Sofia.
The last thing he remembered before sleep tided over was her soft voice saying, "You're okay, Oskar. You're okay."
OoOoO
There was no point pretending she didn't miss this when there was nostalgia in every tiptoed step towards the study; in peeking inside to see Elsa still working at the desk, and mentally debating whether the inevitable snowball to the face was worth the satisfaction of making her unflappable sister shriek in surprise.
"I can see you."
Drats. "No you can't. There's stuff everywhere."
"Which are usually inanimate unless someone bumps into them."
Pouting, Anna stood up—or she planned to, anyway. What she hadn't planned on was tripping on the bottom of her dress and losing a shoe and flinching as the floor rose to meet her—
She smacked into a pile of snow.
For a moment, she just let the chill sink in. Let herself sink into it because the feeling of soft, familiar snow on her skin pushed back ghostly memories of huddling in a cavern with damp hair and clothes, and still feeling too warm.
"Anna?"
She looked up. There was her sister, half-risen from her seat with that familiar look of concern.
Anna pulled herself up and shucked off her remaining shoe while she was at it. "That was a trust fall."
Shaking her head, Elsa sat back down. "In the sense that I trusted you would fall at some point?"
Reaching the desk, Anna leaned over the back of the chair and hugged her sister from behind. "It's not my fault gravity exists."
Elsa put down the quill and studied her. This, too, was nostalgic because Anna had learned that she could spend hours unsuccessfully trying to drag her overworked sister to bed, but as soon as Elsa sensed that Anna needed her, suddenly no state matter was urgent enough.
Neither of them spoke. Then Elsa reached up and drew Anna's right hand up to her lips. And Anna couldn't help smiling into her sister's hair, because even this new thing felt nostalgic. It had only started after her coronation. Anna had shed the heavy dress and crown and had been laughing at the sight of Kristoff, Sven and Olaf taking turns to pay their extravagant respects to her dishevelled self. She'd thought Sven had done the best job. But then Elsa had stepped forward.
Unlike the boys, she hadn't greeted her with Your Majesty. She'd dipped into a perfect curtsey, glanced up long enough for Anna to see through her own blurry vision that Elsa's eyes were also shining with tears, and smiled. My queen. And then she'd kissed Anna's hand, just like their mother used to do every night.
"Is everything okay?"
Anna blinked back to the present and felt the weight of reality settle on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"
"Of course."
"Then yes. Everything is more than okay." Anna squeezed a little tighter. Then she gave in to the exhaustion and draped over Elsa, who patted her head. "Oskar's in bed, by the way."
"Is he alright?"
"Yeah. I mean, as alright as a twelve year old who's convinced his father is going to die can be. You can tell he thinks it's his fault. But I got him to sleep in the end." Anna flashed a smile. "I'm pretty good at telling people when something isn't their fault. Aren't I, sis?"
"Yes, you are," Elsa said wryly. "What about Kristoff? Has he turned in yet?"
Anna shook her head. She'd run into him on her way to the study, and they'd taken ten minutes to catch up in an alcove over a rhubarb pie he'd gotten from the kitchen. Then they'd spent another ten minutes catching up in a different kind of language that had resulted in Anna yanking out her hairpins and letting her hair down because Kristoff's hands had completely murdered her bun.
Before they had gone their separate ways again, Kristoff had asked, Are you sure you're okay? She'd said Yes, obviously, but it must not have sounded convincing enough because he'd kissed the top of her head and said, Tell me when you're ready.
All Anna knew was that she was ready for everything to go back to normal. But she also knew when to recognise that was impossible.
"He's down in the dungeons again. Some of the refugees couldn't sleep without making sure their loved ones are… you know—okay. Most of these people are just civilians. Families."
Elsa nodded. "Is something else bothering you?"
God, how did everyone around her keep doing that?
"I was just thinking… your magic can give life, right? Like Olaf and Marshmallow and the Snowgies. So does it affect you in any way? That there's a… well… an absence of life lying on your ice in the dungeons? Does it…"
She didn't have to finish the question. Anna completely understood the telepathy now, because it only took one look for her to know.
"Oh, Elsa."
"It's fine," Elsa said quickly. "It just feels… heavier. I can manage it."
Of course she could. Elsa could manage anything. Anna knew that. She also knew that if she let her, Elsa would spend the rest of the night fulfilling duties no longer required of her, relentlessly poring over maps and missives to scrape together some semblance of strategy in a disaster she had no control over.
"Anna?" Elsa was doing that doleful, too-guilty-to-meet-her-eyes thing that inexplicably made Anna feel like the older one. "Are you angry with me?"
"No."
"… You're angry."
Yes, she was. Anna was furious with herself. Sure, Elsa no longer kept secrets from her—but things like headaches and the discomfort of death on her magic weren't exactly secrets, were they? They were just instances of Elsa dealing with things the way she always had: alone. So how on earth could Anna still be gullible enough to believe her sister when she said she was okay?
She clamped down on Elsa's shoulders. "You're right; I am. You can make it up to me by relaxing."
"I'm already—"
"No, you're not. Relax, Elsa. Queen's orders." Anna started massaging. And Elsa, for her part, did relax. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, she closed her eyes and melted into her seat.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Elsa murmured, wincing.
"You should be," Anna huffed, kneading even harder. It was only after she had been bored enough to think of massaging Elsa's perpetually tense shoulders that she'd discovered her sister's outrageously high pain tolerance—seriously, Elsa barely batted an eyelash at the kind of pressure that usually reduced Kristoff to tears. But Elsa was infuriatingly good at suppressing everything, so Anna had no choice but to take that as a challenge.
It was pretty good stress relief for her, too.
Anna viciously levered her elbow down on a pressure point, grinning with satisfaction at the way it made Elsa yelp. "This muscle knot will never go away if you keep monopolising my study and acting like you want your old job back. Just saying."
Elsa's laugh dissolved into a hiss as Anna gleefully dug her elbow in deeper. "I think it's too late to return; this room has evidence of you all over it. You've already lost my letter opener."
"Oh, it's here somewhere. Maybe on the dartboard behind the door."
"… Have you been throwing knives across the—"
"Anyway. How about you fill me in on what you've been up to? Looks like a lot."
Elsa narrowed her eyes, but became distracted when Anna switched to her favourite massage—smoothing her thumbs up and down the base of her skull. Humming in approval, Elsa drew her hair over one shoulder and dipped her head forward so Anna could work her fingers more easily. "You may not like it, Your Majesty."
"Try me, o loyal subject of mine."
"In that case, I humbly suggest it is time to lift the trade embargo on Weselton due to—ow. Anna!"
"Sorry. I thought I heard you say we should start doing business with Weaseltown again."
"I did say that."
Anna threw up her hands and hoisted herself onto the desk, facing Elsa, who regarded her dryly as she gingerly rolled out her neck. "That judgemental old man told his guards to kill you, Elsa."
"I know that. He acted out of fear."
"That's not a good enough excuse to hurt someone."
"No, it's not. But don't you see, Anna? I did the same thing. My fear ended up hurting many people. Including."
Anna's eyes widened. "Elsa, I'm not saying that—"
"I know." Elsa put her hand on Anna's knee. "I won't force you to forgive the Duke, but if you can forgive me, then you can at least find it in yourself to stop blaming him for reacting to a problem I started."
"That's completely different. You're my sister and I love you. He is not my sister and I don't love him for trying to murder you."
"That was three years ago, Anna. It was one man's mistake. Right now, we need our allies more than ever, and Weselton was once our largest partner in trade."
"Was, and for good reason. Even if I plan on becoming best friends with Duke Dreadful—which I don't—nothing changes the fact that you spent three years filling Arendelle's coffers, Elsa. You practically traded years of your lifespan negotiating better agreements with nations that even Father couldn't get on board during his reign. We don't need to bargain for Weselton's furs and oils anymore."
"No, but we may need their iron."
Anna's mouth snapped shut. Her nails dug into the underside of the desk. "We don't know that yet."
"It will be too late by the time we do. I know we're still waiting to hear back from them, but I'm almost certain that Weselton also received an unwelcome letter from the Southern Isles. If Caleb thought to blackmail us from across the sea, he would definitely have sent the same threats to any neutral nation in his proximity, as long as they have a sizeable army. If Gregory's coup fails, we'll need more than Weselton's iron; we'll need their soldiers and that might not even be enough to—"
Elsa stopped. Her shoulders tensed once more. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you."
"Keep going."
"Anna?"
"You are scaring me, but…" Anna took a deep breath and raised her head, swallowing. "I'm the queen now. So tell me what I need to hear first, and promise you'll comfort me afterwards, okay?"
Elsa's expression tore up like she'd never been more proud and chagrined to have left Arendelle in Anna's hands—no, on her shoulders. But she nodded and spread out the notes she'd written. She took Anna's hand and guided it across the map she had unfurled on the desk, murmuring patiently above her ear as if they were simply children reading another book together, exploring fairytales instead of war.
Anna listened. She listened to Elsa explaining that if Caleb remained king and did end up attacking not just Arendelle, but every nation that had refused to support him, then he would surely take his conquest from south to north. Without banding together, smaller nations like Weselton, Eldora, and Vesterland would be bulldozed by the Southern Isles's forces like dandelions in a storm. How many boats of refugees would wash up on Arendelle then? And how could Arendelle fend off an army that had gorged on each victory, confident that it had already crushed every ally that would have come to their aid?
"It's not just Weselton, then," Anna said eventually. "We don't just need allies; we need an alliance."
"That's right. We also need to prevent Caleb from forming one of his own. He may be tied down by Gregory's siege right now, but all it will take is for someone like the Duke of Weselton to cave to his demands—"
"Oh, hell no." Anna crossed her arms. "I didn't sleep through every lesson. Weselton's historically sworn fealty to Arendelle, so if they want to go bending the knee to Caleb, they'd better be prepared to go through me first. We were their biggest trading partner, too, and they didn't have a workaholic queen bailing them out of expensive imports. If they want access to our lumber and seafood again, then we're going to ask for a lot more than iron. We're getting the blueprints for those new crossbows I know they've just perfected. They'll send us grain so Councillor Fisker can stop hounding me about sharing resources with the refugees. And when all this is over, the Duke is going to march his 'agile peacock' self over here and formally apologise to you, Elsa. I want him bowing so deeply we can see his bald patch—that's going down in writing as a non-exceptional clause."
Elsa's mouth hung slightly open as she stared at Anna. Then, slowly, her lips curved. "You mean 'non-negotiable term'."
"Yes. That. Anything else I missed?" With that, Anna's bravado expired. "Seriously, you can tell me if there's something I haven't thought of, before I go and do something stupid like—"
"Anna, relax," Elsa laughed."I genuinely have nothing to add. You'll always have me, but it's fine if you don't always need me. It would… it makes me happy."
Anna lowered her head so Elsa wouldn't see her tearing up again. She needed to get some proper rest—they all did. But then her eyes landed on the map; on Arendelle. And the tiny ink trees above it.
Swallowing, she looked up at Elsa. "Then you should return to the Forest with Ryder and Honeymaren tomorrow."
There was a long, baffled silence. Anna bit her lip as Elsa's face cycled through a dozen different emotions. Hurt was the first and the last one to settle. Anna expected it, but it still tore something inside her.
"You need it, Elsa. You haven't had a break—and before you say I haven't, either, I'm not the one with a headache that won't go away because the spirits are giving her the cold shoulder." Anna reached up and rubbed Elsa's brow. "This frown that will turn into a wrinkle if you don't give it a rest. And don't think I don't notice when you stare into space and start making little snowflakes for Bruni until you remember he's not with you. You're not going to feel any better staying here without answers."
"Even if that's true, I wouldn't just be leaving Arendelle, Anna… I'd be leaving you. In the middle of all—this." Elsa tugged her fingers like she was still wearing gloves. "The people are scared and confused. We're hiding a fugitive prince. There could be a war—"
"Then come back quickly." Anna gazed fiercely into her sister's conflicted eyes. "A bridge has two sides, remember? We already know you can do my job, Elsa—but at the end of the day, you are the only one who can do yours. I don't have magic, sis. That's just a fact, and it's fine because I still managed to save you without them. Twice. So trust me, okay?"
Elsa opened her mouth, but now Anna couldn't stop. It all came pouring out.
"Fix whatever is separating you from the other spirits again. Go to Ahtohallan. Ask Yelana for advice. Talk to the baby reindeer that totally thinks you're his mother. Leave all this behind and go find yourself again, Elsa. Because I… I miss Gale and I miss seeing you riding the Nokk into the horizon like a Valkyrie goddess. I miss knowing that you know who you are. So don't stay because you feel like you need to make sure I don't screw up. I mean, I probably will anyway—"
"Anna."
"—I don't feel in control of anything right now, but hey! It's been three months and I haven't burned Arendelle to the ground yet, and now I have this to-do list you wrote for me so it's not like I'll even have time to cry over missing you—"
"Anna."
"Right. Yeah. I'm listening."
Elsa reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had sprung loose in Anna's fiery delivery. "Non-negotiable term."
"I'm sorry?"
"Non-negotiable term," her sister repeated. "I'll only go if you agree to one thing."
"Yes," Anna said instantly.
Elsa looked at her.
"Fine. Name your terms. Term. You only get one."
"You have to trust me, Anna."
"Well, duh. Of course I trust you." She blinked. "Wait. That's not the condition, is it? Trusting you? Am I not being obvious enough about it? Oh no, do you think I don't trust you?"
"I don't think that, silly. But lately I've been reminded that you must not fully trust me, because you keep forgetting something."
"Like what? You have to be more specific. You know I forget a lot of things."
"The most important one."
Where was Elsa getting this from? Anna was pretty sure she bled faith in her sister. "Can you give me a hint? Like charades?"
"I'm already doing it."
Anna narrowed her eyes. Elsa arched an expectant eyebrow.
Then they both started giggling.
"I'm sorry!" Anna gasped. "I really don't know! What are you doing? Breathing? Laughing? Reading my mind?"
Elsa twirled her hand in a go on gesture.
"Oh, we're really doing this! Okay, um, reading my mind, right? Psychic? Fortune teller? Thinking!"
Mirth overflowing from her twinkling eyes, Elsa pointed at Anna.
"Me? Thinking of me? Aww, sis! Me, too!"
Elsa pointed more insistently.
"What? Me, too? Something I'm doing? Something I said? Oh gosh, I say so many things. What was the last thing? Uh… go back to the Forest? Charades? Of course I trust you?"
Elsa's eyes widened. She nodded excitedly.
"Oh my God. Trust? Am I close? Are we actually going to get this? Kristoff and Olaf are going to freak." Anna's heart raced with adrenaline and glee, flushing away the tension of the past two days. She was surrounded by responsibilities and warfare and paperwork—but here was her sister making her laugh and laughing with her and… pointing at herself?
"You?"
Back at Anna.
"Me?"
A light smile played across Elsa's lips.
"Oh," Anna breathed. "You trust me."
"You," Elsa said sternly, "keep forgetting that you're not the only one who believes in her sister more than anyone or anything. You don't need to be the same queen I was, and you don't need to prove yourself to anyone. You don't need magic. You—"
Anna's tackle sent them both tripping over the chair. Throwing her arms around her sister, Anna pressed her ear to Elsa's beating heart, and mumbled, "I lied. I'll miss you like air."
Sighing, her sister squeezed her back, warm and tight. "You are the sun, Anna."
OoOoO
"Grandfather! Grandfather! There's someone—"
"Dagny. Do you remember what we said about noise in the morning?"
"… Keep it down?"
"Correct. Because?"
"It'll wake Tommy, and Mama will be really grumpy with me?"
"Which means?"
"Um…"
"No waffles for lunch, Dagny."
"Oh."
Folding up the day's edition of The Village Crown, Belland reached for his tea and hid a smile as energetic bouncing became careful pattering. A small hand tapped his elbow. Children, Belland thought fondly as he tipped his head so Dagny could whisper into his ear.
Then he was throwing a coat over his bedclothes and striding swiftly down the hall. Dagny followed excitedly, making justified hushing noises at the sharp strikes of his cane on the wooden floor. Belland shot her a firm look that sent her scampering up the stairs. Then he buttoned up his coat and opened the door.
It was still early, the village only beginning to wake in a sleepy hum. Dew glistened on his daughter's potted plants, and the morning air held a brisk snap that made Belland thankful for his coat.
Yet he felt overdressed next to the young woman on his front steps. She wore only a glowing white dress, hands clasped before her.
For a while, Belland's breaths were all that rose between them, condensing in the cold silence. Then he bowed. "Princess Elsa."
She inclined her head politely. "Councillor Belland. I apologise for calling so early. I hope I didn't wake you."
"Not at all, Your Highness. Old age has made me an early riser."
"I see it runs in the family. Your granddaughter has grown so tall."
"She has. I pray she behaved respectfully towards you, ma'am."
"She was delightful," the princess said without missing a beat, which made Belland chuckle ruefully.
"I will have another word with her."
"Please don't. It was rewarding for me to learn that the sextant I remade is working better than the last one. I did have a feeling the index and horizon mirrors had been slightly too concave so I was impressed that she suggested…" The princess caught herself and cleared her throat, self-consciously tucking her hair behind one ear.
Belland fought not to smile. "Your Highness? It is all we can do to keep Dagny from taking that sextant into bed with her every night. I assure you, ma'am; she treasures your gift very much."
She smiled back. "I'm pleased to hear that." Then she paused. "I believe you've been looking to speak with me for a while now, Councillor."
Belland shifted his weight, running a thumb over the top of his cane. "I was under the impression Your Highness had been purposefully avoiding my company."
"I was."
One step ahead.
"And now?"
Her steady gaze met his. "I'd like to ask a favour of you."
A/N: This fic has me under a spell. It was nice to be able to write sisterly fluff after so much drama.
-Of Hans' brothers, Caleb, Lars, Rudi and Runo are canon characters from the book A Frozen Heart. Everyone else is made up, although Gregory is an old side character I resurrected from chapters 10 and 11 of The Sky Is Awake. He had a very minor role and now he's back demanding texture.
-I once saw a headcanon post postulating that Rudi and Runo were actually the Stabbington brothers from Tangled. I know from A Frozen Heart that one of the twins has blonde hair so I know it's probably not true, but hey, any chance to chuck in another Disney reference!
-The 'Elsa kisses Anna's hand' scene was inspired by a gorgeous fanart I saw somewhere. I'll share it on tumblr (themarshmallowattack dot tumblr dot com) if I can find the source. I also post snippets of chapters while I'm writing (mainly because my fingers type hilarious things that get culled during edits—you should see how Oskar first described Elsa's dress hahaha). Search 'The Next Unknown' on my tumblr and everything related should come up.
-And yes! That's our girl with the sextant! I was sad that the first one must have shared Olaf's fate when Elsa went too deep.