The Next Unknown

19 - The Answer I've Waited For

OoOoO

Unlike Weselton's dungeon, Arendelle's was unexpectedly cacophonous. All sound echoed. Outside noises somehow seemed to ooze through the stone walls—clopping hooves, sparring swords, the muffled toll of the clocktower.

It was always too quiet down here. Was his mother alright? Would she accidentally hurt herself? She wouldn't be able to find him in the cavernous basement—he could slip away altogether. But he wouldn't. Couldn't. She didn't mean it. She'd look for him once she calmed down. She would stop sobbing his father's name and start calling his instead—then it would be safe to climb back up into the light, like he had never been gone.

A door groaning under its weight. Footsteps. Jangling keys. "Attention!"

"Relax, Brodrick. It's just me."

He should have known. If he lay still enough, perhaps she would think he was asleep.

'Why don't you sleep here?'

It was that girl again. Besides Katja, she was the only one who bothered to talk to him during dinner. Sometimes it bothered him. Tonight, he tolerated her. 'I have my own room and bed. I live with my mother.'

'Then why do you always eat here?'

'She's… an awful cook.'

'Then what does she eat?'

Too many questions. 'What happened to your parents?' he snapped, then regretted it instantly. 'Sorry.'

'Why are you apologising?'

'Because… this is an orphanage. And you're here. That means your family…'

'They're alive,' she said firmly. She ate three more spoonfuls of soup. 'They're alive,' she repeated. 'I know where they are. I just… can't be with them right now.'

She suddenly sounded a lot older than him. He wasn't accustomed to that maturity from another child. Sitting up taller, he said, 'I understand that feeling.'

She ruffled his hair. He wasn't sure why he allowed it. 'I don't think you do. But thanks.'

'I do. My father fought in the war. He's stuck in the Enchanted Forest because of evil magic—but he's alive. I know it. Mother says the mist will go away after he kills all the Northuldra. Then he'll come home a hero.'

Her hand dropped away from his head. He patted his hair back down.

'You don't understand,' he heard her whisper.

In the end, he couldn't do it. Hakon opened his eyes and sat up just as two figures stopped outside his cell.

"Oh. Hi." The surprise in the queen's voice made him raise an eyebrow—who else had she been expecting? Or was she taken aback by her first sight of him behind bars? She was the one who had put him there.

The guard glowered at him. "Her Majesty greeted you, prisoner."

"It's fine, Brodrick. You should finish your lunch."

"Ma'am, General Mattias gave explicit instructions to—"

"I know, I know." She deepened her voice and raised a stern finger. "'Don't let your guard down! Never let Anna out of your sight! She might trip on her dress and tumble down the stairs!' Been there, done that. But I've been really good lately… what? I'm serious! Ask Linus and Peder; they've been following me around and I haven't given them the slip once. Besides, it's not like Lord Erling is going anywhere."

"As you wish, ma'am. Please do not underestimate him. It was already against protocol to provide him with so many comforts. He could throw a… book at you."

Hakon couldn't help but arch his eyebrows further. The queen withheld her laughter until the guard left. "Don't tell him about the dictionary I once threw at you. That's an order."

"As you wish." His curt response made her smile falter.

Anna leaned back against the walls in the hallway, tapping the heel of one boot against the stone. "I won't stay long. I've got a speech to make. It suddenly got a lot colder, didn't it? It's actually snowing outside. Are you warm enough?"

"You already made sure of that." Hakon looked pointedly at the winter coats that a maid had delivered last night, along with several books and pen and paper.

"Gee, you're welcome. I sent Gerda to get them from your house." Anna drew her own coat tighter around her. "She said your mother looked well."

It was a kind way to suggest that his mother had not noticed his absence. Hakon focused on the more pressing matter. "You're giving an address to the council?"

"To everyone, actually." Anna lifted a hand to her hair, then seemed to remember she could not touch it. The glint of a crown caught Hakon's eye. "I only decided last night. I haven't really spoken to everyone since we took in the refugees. We've been telling them to be vigilant and stockpile for a war they know nothing about. They're probably confused and scared and, well, I think they need to hear from me. So please don't throw a book at me; I don't want to give that speech with a black eye."

She mentioned nothing of the Northuldra, nor his mother's incident in the square. In fact, the way she looked back at him gave Hakon the impression she was waiting for him to bring it up. He ignored it. "I hear you plan to shelter the populace in the Great Hall should the enemy reach our shores."

"Well, yes. The village isn't built to withstand cannon fire. The castle is the safest place for everyone. But crossing the bridge could be dangerous and messy so—"

"You're going to release the castle's blueprints," Hakon deduced. "You intend to evacuate civilians through the hidden passages King Runeard built for the royal family's use."

"Of course you already figured that out." Anna peered at him, then sighed. "Knew it. You've got that look on your face. You think it's a bad idea."

"You don't?" Hakon crossed his arms. "What possessed you to believe that revealing the castle's vulnerabilities is an act of nobility and not stupidity?"

There was a pause as Anna stared at him, as if she could not register his tone. As if she could finally recognise him. Hakon glimpsed relief amidst shock. Hurt. And, in that moment, he recognised her, too.

"What if it's an act of necessity?" she snapped. "What else are we supposed to do, Hakon? Run? Put all our hopes in Weselton stopping Caleb before he reaches us? You're the one who went on about the Southern Isles's military strength. We can't keep telling ourselves this war might happen and that we might get dragged into it—I can't afford that, okay? Arendelle is sandwiched between mountains and water! There's nowhere to run. Our troops will just be distracted if their families aren't safe."

"I agree. But you are blind if you consider it an improvement for the entire population to be herded into one place—a place that you have advertised to, literally, be full of holes. You may as well ask to be besieged."

"I know it's risky. But I'm not leaving everyone to tremble under their beds when we could protect them right here. There's no other option."

"Then you don't know your kingdom well enough. You do not know war well enough. That's not going to—"

"I'm trying my best, okay?"

The strangled cry reverberated around them.

The guard reappeared in a hurry, looking bewildered. He shot Hakon a wary look, reached for the baton at his belt—then Anna glanced at him. She didn't say anything; didn't need to. The man hesitated, looked between the queen and her prisoner once more, and retreated out of sight without a sound.

Hakon stared at the queen before him. Blinking rapidly as she looked up to the ceiling. Fists clenched at her sides.

'Iduna. Something is wrong with her. Look—she keeps falling over.'

'Hm? Oh, she's just trying to learn how to walk. As you can see, she's not ready for it yet.'

'Then tell her to give up. She's going to hurt herself.'

'Have you tried telling a baby to stop doing something? They don't work that way, Hakon.'

'Well, Elsa did. She was quite an astute baby. This one is… less clever.'

'Don't be mean. Elsa is Elsa, and Anna is—' They heard a thump followed by a wail. '… Anna.' His best friend chuckled and reached for her daughter. 'You're okay, sweetie. Just keep trying your best; that's all you need to do.'

"I'm trying," Anna repeated, her voice ragged. "Okay? That's all I know how to do. I wasn't born the last time Arendelle was in a war—you weren't even born. And if I don't do something, a lot of children won't be born at all. No, it's not a perfect plan—you know what; it's probably not even a good plan. But that's the best I can do. If you have any better ideas, please… just tell me."She sounded tired.

He was tired, too. "Have you considered what could happen if the enemy got their hands on those blueprints?"

"Mattias will personally visit every household, have them memorise the route to the nearest passage entrance, and then he'll make sure they burn the maps."

"And you believe that, do you?"

"I trust Mattias with my life. Don't you dare start on—"

Hakon held up a hand. "I couldn't care less about the colour of Destin Mattias's skin. Consider this: I spoke to no one but yourself before I was arrested. How did I, a prisoner, learn of your defence plans?"

Anna crossed her arms. "By being an obnoxious know-it-all?"

"Guards talk carelessly down here. You are speaking carelessly. Locked doors cannot keep secrets. Why would you assume people are any different?" Hakon looked at her. "Do you truly think you can trust each and every person in this kingdom?"

"Maybe not. But I trusted you, didn't I?" Anna's eyes were red but dry. "You know what I hate about this, Hakon? That you are the first person I've sent down here. It's my fault; I put you in this position. I… should have done something the first time we had this talk. Before Weselton. I took a gamble trusting you. And I know it's not fair. You kept Kristoff safe, helped us strike an important deal with Weselton, and I locked you down here with no actual proof of treason."

Somehow, she had seized control of the conversation. He had taught her too much about negotiations. Hakon looked away. "I was discourteous to the queen. It is a severe offence."

"You literally called me an idiot just two minutes ago."

"I suggested it was an 'act of stupidity'."

"Right. Then why didn't you say that before I welcomed the Northuldra? Before we erected the statue? Before we gave Honeymaren and Ryder a stall in the market?"

"You would not have listened."

Anna shook her head. "I've been thinking, see—I do that sometimes, believe it or not. There are all these pieces, and none of them add up. Like the fact that you're way too smart, Hakon; you had to know I couldn't just let you leave after you resigned. You could have lied or just run away altogether—but you didn't. If you were really worried about landing in prison, then you shouldn't have told me at all—but you did. Kristoff told me you talked your way out of Weselton's dungeon; so why did you practically talk your way into ours? You keep proving that you care a lot more about Arendelle than you do about yourself. So the problem isn't your loyalty towards the kingdom. I'm going to take a stab and say you're not even acting like this because of the Northuldra."

When Hakon did not answer, the queen took a step forward, wrapping a gloved hand around one bar. "It's me, isn't it? Just say it. This started after Elsa abdicated."

He couldn't even walk away from her. "If it upsets Your Majesty so, you could easily keep me imprisoned for the rest of my life."

"That's not the point!" Anna threw up her hands. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Did you not hear me? I suggested—"

"Why didn't you tell me you knew my parents? You knew them longer than we did—God, you've probably known me and Elsa our whole lives."

"There is also such a thing called privacy."

He knew she was staring at him. Waiting. Searching for cracks.

Anna turned around, leaning back against the bars. "So much for 'people can't keep secrets'," she muttered in a thick voice.

"You shouldn't turn your back to a prisoner."

"Well, too bad. A queen can do whatever she wants, even if you think she's doing a terrible job."

Hakon sat down on the edge of the hard bed. His jaw ached from clenching it for so long. He forced himself to let out a breath. "It has nothing to do with you."

A moment of blissful silence. Maybe she hadn't heard him. Then nothing would change. But what difference did it make? Nothing ever changed.

"Nothing to do with me?" Anna repeated. "I'm sorry—what? How can you say that? After everything?"

It was like listening to himself. 'Ask me to follow you and Iduna. And I'll say yes.'

Fool. Nothing had changed.

"'It has nothing to do with you'," Hakon muttered. He took off his cracked glasses, letting the dungeon blur around him. What was the harm? Seeing the world too clearly always came at a cost. "That's what they told me sixteen years ago. When I asked why they closed the gates and shut everyone out… including me."

OoOoO

"Honestly," Fisker grumbled. "What is Her Majesty thinking, organising this with such short notice? Iver, you've had the queen's ear recently. What do you know about this?"

"As much as you, my friend," Belland replied. "It seems we all received news this morning, along with the rest of Arendelle."

"Do none of us have any clue what she intends to announce?"

No one spoke.

"Spectacular," Fisker muttered. "The queen has cast aside her advisors. What a familiar turn of events."

"Look here, Harald. Queen Anna is nothing like Runeard," Davidsen said sternly. "She must have her reasons. Erling might know; he and Prince Kristoff have returned from Weselton. He may have been in discussion with the queen."

"Then the rest of us should also have been summoned for a meeting. With his recent attitude, Erling is the last person she should be listening to."

"Maybe it was a sensitive matter?" Roys suggested.

"That is worse! What will the kingdom come to if the queen does not trust her privy council?"

Belland eyed the podium that had been set up at the edge of the square, in front of the bridge to the castle. "Perhaps," he said idly, "it is a matter of necessity, not choice. Our ranks merely acknowledge our contributions to the kingdom; they do not speak for our loyalties. I am not, of course, questioning anyone's allegiance. Rather, we should ask ourselves: why should we be above Her Majesty's suspicion?"

A long silence followed, beaten down by the clamour of citizens around them.

"Well," Davidsen grunted. "I'm only saying this because Belland made a valid point: I, for one, have not been impressed by Erling's blatant disrespect as of late."

Fisker nodded keenly. "If any of us warrants suspicion, it is him. He is young and tempestuous. How were we to know that Weselton was not already conspiring with the Southern Isles? The trip would have given Erling the opportunity he needed to jeopardise Arendelle's safety."

"Gentleman, please," Roys said nervously. "We are the backbone of Arendelle. We should not be turning on each other, especially now."

Fisker let out a humourless laugh. "My dear Mona, you are still new to politics and, arguably, Arendelle. There is no business simpler than war: we can trust everyone to be untrustworthy. We learned that lesson when we fought the Northuldra. Some of those barbarians looked Arendellian enough that they dared to walk among us and pass themselves off as—"

An abrupt stop. Fisker glanced towards the bronze statue in the square's centre. No one around them seemed to have heard him.

Close, Belland mused. Very close.

"I'm sure what Fisker means," Davidsen said, eyeing the abashed minister of agriculture, "is that each person can only be certain of their own loyalties. All we can do is play our parts to see Arendelle through this war. Isn't that right?"

"Right," Fisker said quickly. "For the record, I respect all of you—including Erling. If there is a traitor in the kingdom, I would never suspect one of us." He inclined his head to Roys. "I meant no disrespect earlier, Mona. You have been an invaluable addition to the council."

"You are kind, Harald." Roys smiled wanly. She had started rubbing a thumb over her black stone necklace—a nervous tic, Belland had noticed. "I must admit… being the newest member of the council, as minister of education, no less, I have been thinking recently that I have no business involving myself with these matters of war. Goodness; some days, I wonder if I have any right to oversee Arendelle's affairs at all. A decade ago, I came to this kingdom looking for a new start. That was all. I never fathomed that Queen Elsa would appoint me to such an important role… Some days, I think I do not deserve it."

There it was. It had been a while since the last time. Mona Roys, Belland had learned over the past four years, was an excellent colleague. She was forthcoming in her area of knowledge, level-headed, and humble. Unfortunately, there was one topic that animated her more passionately than literacy rates: self-pity.

Evidently recognising the pattern, Fisker commenced evasive manoeuvres. "It seems Her Majesty is running late yet again. I would like to get out of this miserable snow as soon as—"

"Nonsense, Mona!" Davidsen declared, clapping a dejected Roys on the shoulder. "You are indispensable! Look how helpful you were in resettling the refugees and using their experiences to enrich the younger generation."

Belland shared a rueful look with Fisker, who put his head in his hand. Davidsen, they were thinking. It was always Davidsen.

Roys perked up instantly. "Oh, Mikkel. You don't think I'm a glorified schoolteacher? I'm so glad. You see, teaching was actually—"

"Your sister's dream," Fisker muttered under his breath.

"—my sister's dream. She sacrificed it to support our family, and she always wanted better for me. If she could only see me now—"

A chorus of trumpets blasted through the square. A hush rippled through the crowd as heads turned expectantly towards the podium.

"Presenting: Queen Anna of Arendelle!"

"Good riddance," Fisker coughed.

OoOoO

Oskar greeted her with an unimpressed, "You're late."

Anna doubled over to catch her breath. Her coat suddenly felt way too warm in the tiny tent. "Why… do you think… I… ran…?"

"Well, you shouldn't have. Queens don't run."

"Someone's hard to please. Can you help me put my crown back on? It fell off and I can never get it on straight without… what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've never seen you wear your crown."

"Because it's uncomfortable and I'd lose it in an hour. Maybe less. Probably less."

"Maybe if you stopped behaving like a hyperactive hyena—oi, cut it out."

Anna stopped ruffling his hair and set her crown on it instead. "Are you going to help me or not, Your Highness?"

"I told you: I'm not a prince," Oskar muttered. "I can't reach. Kneel, peasant."

Anna crouched down just as Kai strolled in. To his credit, he was unfazed by the sight of his queen being crowned by an orphan boy. "There you are! I will prepare the stage. Please hurry and listen for your cue. Oh, and kindly do your best not to trip on the carpet, ma'am."

"What carpet? Red carpet? Kai, what happened to keeping it casual? I said—"

"He's already gone," Oskar said. "Now, stop moving."

Anna groaned. "I told him to just gather everyone so I could speak to them for a few minutes. It's not meant to be some kind of festival."

"It's not; it's just a red carpet and a marching band."

"A marching band?!" She should've known better. Kai loved fanfare and was clearly taking every chance to make up for the lack thereof during the years the gates had been closed.

"Look up?" Oskar studied the crown's placement, made a displeased grunt, and gestured for her to bend again.

Hakon had once been Oskar's age, hadn't he? Just a boy who had raised himself while caring for his mother, and grown up under the shadow of a father he'd never known. A child who was all but an orphan in name—until he had found older siblings in the future king and queen.

'They shut everyone out… including me.'

Anna bit the inside of her lip and plastered on a grin. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you? The last time I saw you this focused, you were throwing knives and hitting bullseyes."

She felt Oskar shifting the crown on her head, tugging strands of hair out of the way. "Yeah, well," he muttered, "that was literally the last time you saw me."

That couldn't be right. Could it? It hit Anna that she had been avoiding Oskar. Because Hakon was not the only person in Arendelle being kept under lock and key right now.

"It's not like I missed you or anything," Oskar scoffed. "I've been busy helping Osmund in the forge. Stop looking so guilty."

Guilt. Would he be happier if he went on believing that Gregory was dead, unable to hold him accountable for what happened to Sofia?

'I was only a boy when your sister was born. In the beginning, Iduna was as insufferable as always; she found any excuse to put Elsa in my arms. 'She doesn't cry when you hold her,' she would say. It was nonsense; your sister rarely cried. Putting her to sleep, however, was a herculean effort. That was why I did not question the first time Iduna told me I couldn't see Elsa because she was sleeping. After that, though, Elsa was always 'sleeping' when I came to the castle. There were rumours that Iduna no longer accepted help from the maids when it came to Elsa's care; some said the nursery door was often locked. Apparently, Elsa was a sickly infant. Why, then, on the rare occasions that she was 'awake', did I only ever see her playing outside in the snow?'

"It's okay if you're still mad at me for lying, you know. You can just say it. Or tell me to go away."

Oh. Another pang struck Anna's chest. "What are you talking about? I'm not mad at you, Oskar Not-Westergaard. I've just been really busy."

He peered at her. "Honest?"

"Pinky promise. We can go for another ride once everything settles down. We'll drag Kristoff along; he's used to reindeer and looks ridiculous on a horse."

"… Okay."

Deafening trumpets blared, making both of them jump.

"You'd better get ready," Oskar said. "Your crown looks good enough. By the way, Kai told me to follow you and keep the end of your dress off the floor."

"What? That's so unnecessary! This dress isn't even long enough to touch—" Anna finally noticed the smirk on Oskar's face. "Oh, you little devil. Did you come just to mess with me?"

"Maybe." Oskar's voice became sombre. "Mattias wanted me to stick around. Blend in. Just in case something, uh, happens while you're up there."

Runo's ambush had clearly done a number on poor Mattias's nerves. Peering out through a gap in the tent, Anna could barely see the crowd through the guards stationed around the podium. She could, however, make out the councillors on the far side of the square, waiting under the eaves of the tailor shop. Councillor Belland stood out in his grey suit, an immovable constant amidst the sea of faces. There was no way he could see her from that distance, but Anna knew he was watching her.

It was still snowing lightly outside, and Kai tried to hold a lavender parasol—a parasol!—over her head as she ascended the (carpeted) steps to the podium. She discreetly shooed him away. It was just a little snow. She liked snow. Come to think of it, Elsa still owed her a snowman.

'The kingdom thought there had been a security breach. Why else would the king and queen suddenly close the gates and dismiss half the staff? Why would they not tell me what they were thinking? Surely I had committed a grave sin to deserve their secrecy. I merely had to earn back their faith. I did not inquire about the gates again. I did not ask why they allowed Elsa to spend her childhood in her room while you wasted yours trying to coax her out to play.'

The square was unbelievably packed. Her people. Her responsibility.

Anna gathered a lungful of chilly air. "Hello! Sorry I'm late!"

"We're used to it, ma'am," someone called from the direction of the bakery.

"I know your voice, Florian!" Anna shouted back, and the crowd chuckled louder.

This was her home. What would it take to keep it safe?

'They feared for her safety. I understand that—the kingdom's reaction at your sister's coronation justified their paranoia. They were afraid of those who might seek to hurt her. They could not risk the possibility that I, who had lost his father to magic, might hurt her. It was easier to cut me from their daughters' lives.'

Snow was gathering on people's shoulders. Anna perked up. "Can you hear me at the back? Okay, good. I'm usually too loud, huh?" More laughter. "I know this was put together at the last minute, so I really appreciate your time. This won't take long, I promise. And thank you for being so patient—not just today, of course. A lot's happened lately and I know you must have a lot of questions. You can ask—"

"I have a question!" a little boy called out.

"You idiot! Don't interrupt her when she's in queen mode!"

Laughing, Anna looked down at the children in the front row. "What's up, Arn?"

The boy stopped rubbing the arm his sister had pinched. "You're okay, right? Everyone's saying you got hurt by someone bad."

The crowd quietened. Listening.

The scar on her brow itched. Anna resisted the urge to touch it. "I'm okay now. I'm sorry for scaring you. Actually, I'm sorry everything has been kind of scary lately. It's scarier when you don't know what's happening, isn't it? That's why I'm here—to tell you everything."

'Perhaps I never lost their trust because they had never entrusted it to me. It was nothing more than a miscommunication. I was merely a child she took under her wing; an aide he found useful. I was not privy to their family's secrets, because I was not family. Does it matter what they were to me?'

"Oh, before I forget: I realised I never mentioned how proud I am of everyone. For working together to save strangers drowning in our fjord; for helping them settle into their new lives here and—"

"To Queen Anna!"

Blinking, Anna looked over to see a cluster of Southern Isles refugees standing by the dock. Emil had raised a fist into the air, his other hand cupped around his mouth. Soon, there was a chant going. Anna could only stare. And, in that moment, it finally hit her: they were not her people, but they considered her their queen.

It wasn't until Kai approached with a handkerchief that Anna noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. "Oops. Thanks, Kai." But instead of wiping her eyes, she found herself balling the handkerchief up in her fist.

Her gaze wandered towards the bronze statue in the square's centre.

'Then you and your sister went north. And returned, declaring that it was Arendelle that had attacked the Northuldra. My father and all the other soldiers—had they died as unknowing victims of Runeard's ambition? Or as willing villains? It did not matter to me. Because the next thing you proudly said was: 'Our mother was Northuldra.''

The applause grew like a wave. A tsunami. Anna had forgotten what she came to say. She should thank the crowd. Promise to do her best. The people loved her. She had always known that. But now they looked up to her. They trusted her to protect the kingdom. Keep them safe. Do the next right thing.

Her parents' youthful faces smiled back at her.

'Northuldra. All those years… all the times I confided in her… why? Why didn't she say anything? Why did she let me rage at her about the barbarians who had ruined my family? Why did she just… take all my hate? Why wouldn't she give me the chance to understand? To apologise?'

Why was she always the last to know? Why couldn't they just have been honest with her?

Why hadn't they trusted her?

'You asked me why I did not tell you I knew them. The answer is that I didn't know them at all. I couldn't stand to look at you because I envied you. Do you understand that? How do you so easily accept the lies? The truths you will never hear in their own words? How can you stand to see that statue every day? How are you so… so good at pretending it doesn't hurt?'

The crowd had fallen silent. Why was the mother in the front row no longer bouncing her newborn and instead looking up at Anna with a look of horrified concern?

"Anna?" Kai whispered from the side. He only used her name when he was worried. But she hadn't run headlong into a suit of armour, or fallen out of a tree.

Swallowing, Anna clasped a trembling hand over the ice bracelet on her wrist. "S-Sorry, I—"

Then the crowd parted.

OoOoO

Elsa noticed little of the ride back to Arendelle. Her mind churned relentlessly over her last conversation with Yelana, like a wagon wheel stuck in a ditch.

She had told Yelana to be prepared for the worst—a war on their shores—and the elder had replied, 'Good luck.'

There was no guesswork in that simple statement. The Southern Isles was coming for Arendelle. Not the Enchanted Forest. Not the Spirits. Not the Northuldra.

Kjekk snorted.

Elsa blinked. "I know you're tired, boy. You did a great job crossing the Earth Giants earlier. We saved so much time; we're almost there." She leaned forward to point. "See? Home is just over… that… hill…"

It was true. Arendelle was mere minutes away; so close that she could frame her hands around its borders and hold it. The flag was still flying. Smoke still drifted lazily from chimneys. The castle gates were still open.

Yet the village felt still. It was too quiet.

Elsa's eyes darted to the fjord: no ships or cannon fire. It did nothing to quell the unease thrumming through her nerves. Had she futilely warned Yelana about a war that had already arrived?

Anna.

"Kjekk," Elsa breathed. "Go."

There were no signs of chaos as they charged into the village. Where was everyone?

Something happened, Elsa's fears taunted. You chose the Forest and left Arendelle unprotected.

A loud sound nearly sent her toppling from the saddle. Thunder in broad daylight? No, it was ongoing. A hailstorm? Then she heard a male voice bellow, "To Queen Anna!" It had come from the direction of the main square.

An iron weight lifted from Elsa's chest. Suddenly, there was nothing to fear but her own foolishness. She had mistaken the sound of applause for some kind of supernatural disaster. Thank goodness no one was around.

The sound of clapping and whooping dissipated as she set off. In fact, all sounds seemed to drop away, once more ushering in a shroud of deathly silence. Elsa fought not to urge Kjekk to speed up again. She had to stop overthinking. Anna was likely just getting ready to address everyone. Or maybe she was showing them something. It was fine. Arendelle was still safe.

Kjekk turned the last corner. The crowd was so large that Market Square was overflowing. All Elsa could see were the backs of heads, all facing a podium that had been set up with the castle as its backdrop. Elsa chuckled because it was immediately apparent that Kai had enjoyed himself. Red carpet, drapes, trumpets. Anna was even wearing her crown and—

There were hundreds of people between them, and Anna was only a finely clothed speck on a stage. She could not even see her sister's face. But Elsa could tell. She's crying.

Before she knew it, she had dismounted and started forward, not noticing the crowd parting on either side of her, creating a winding path to the stage.

Anna saw her.

Then people were bowing to Elsa. Elsa returned fleeting smiles, her gaze torn between the people and her sister. She had to get to Anna. Because Elsa remembered what it was like be back in the ballroom, one bare hand clutched to her chest, surrounded by jagged spikes of ice as horrified gasps penetrated the frigid air.

She had been foolish enough to think that Anna would never have to experience anything like that. All because Anna was… Anna.

You're the one who abdicated and put her up there.

Their parents' statue was only a few steps away from her.

"Elsa!" Her head snapped back at her sister's voice. When their eyes met this time, Anna's face broke into an enormous smile. She made a show of rubbing her arms. "It's cold," she called out in a whining tone.

It was the same tone she used when Elsa and Kristoff fussed over her: I'm fine.

Elsa glanced up at the grey sky. The crowd was too distracted to notice that the snow had fallen a little thicker. But no one knew winter like Anna.

It wasn't necessary to use her hands, but Elsa raised them anyway. An excited murmur rushed through the crowd as snowflakes halted midair. With a twist of her wrist, Elsa lifted the snow from the crowd's shoulders. The cold snap in the air drained away.

Thank you, Anna mouthed. Then she turned away from Elsa, back to the crowd. "Sorry, where was I? Oh, right! I was saying how proud I am. We have good news, too. I know we haven't had the best relationship with Weselton, but we're officially allies again. Yes, I'm serious. Kristoff met with the Duke and…"

Elsa surreptitiously moved to the edge of the square while all eyes were on Anna. Her sister held a crowd like no other. Seeing her regale them with her usual flamboyant confidence, Elsa knew it couldn't have been stage fright that had affected Anna. Something must have happened while she was gone.

A warm voice startled her. "Look who it is. It's been a while, Queen of Snow."

Elsa whirled around. And her face split into a wide smile. "It's good to see you, too, Prince of Ice."

Kristoff made a face. "Oh god. Please never call me that again."

"As you wish, Lord Ambassador." Seeing his face scrunch up further, Elsa laughed and hugged him. "Have I really not seen you since your promotion? How have you been?"

"Let's just say we have a lot to catch up on. First things first." Kristoff nodded towards the stage. "Did something happen to Anna?"

"I was about to ask you the same."

"No idea. I just got here. Anna came running to me right before the speech and said she needed me and Olaf to investigate—"

"Hi Elsa!" Olaf latched on her leg. "Did you know there's a huge secret—mph!" Kristoff had hastily leaned down to slap a hand over his mouth. Olaf continued protesting in a muffled mumble. "Why does everyone… keep… shushing… me?"

"Not so loud, little guy. Anna said to keep it a secret, remember?"

Had Elsa heard that right. Anna hated secrets. Was that not the reason for this event? There she was, the queen herself, telling the people to be prepared for their idyllic lives to be shattered by a madman's feud. And she had them glued to her every word.

"She's really good at this," Kristoff commented. "I mean, she's always been great with people. But you trained her well with all those speeches you two gave together."

"That's not true." Elsa caught herself before she crossed both arms and instead held her left at the elbow. She was aware of Kristoff looking at her curiously.

What was the truth? That one part of her had always feared she could not bear children, while the other half of her was terrified that she could? Had she pragmatically kept Anna at her side in all public events because she had known her sister was the only person who could rule Arendelle after her?

Squeezing her arm, though, Elsa knew it was far simpler than that. "I only knew how to be alone in solitude. Not how to stand alone in front of a crowd. That's why Anna was always with me, and that is why she's the one standing up there now." Elsa's eyes flickered to Kristoff's. She smiled wistfully. "Even in her moments of fear, she is braver than I could ever be."

"Maybe. But I think there are different types of bravery. Anna's the type to run into fire… oh wait." He gave her a meaningful look.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "That was different. It's not a mark of bravery when one is essentially fireproof."

"Yeah, no. That's definitely not how ice works."

They shared a look and laughed.

"Shhh!" Olaf admonished loudly.

The crowd had once more gone quiet. Anna appeared to be fielding questions from the public, and a slim man with black hair had raised an ink-stained hand. Elsa recognised him as Wael, the village's self-proclaimed journalist. "I'd like to clarify, ma'am," he said in a nasal voice. "We are dealing with blackmail from the King of the Southern Isles, correct? For not providing aid when he and his brothers squabbled over the throne?"

Elsa saw Anna take an extra moment to gather her thoughts. Wael had that effect on both of them. "That's the gist of it, yes. He threatened other nations, too. That's why we're working together with Weselton."

Wael scribbled in his notepad. "I see, I see. It certainly takes a degree of insanity for a few small islands in the south to make enemies across the continent. Most would immediately dismiss it as a bluff. Then again, the strength of the Southern Isles' navy is infamous. In the hands of a madman…"

Anna cocked her head, her crown glinting in the light. "Sorry, is there a question in there somewhere?"

Wael twiddled his pen. He was one of the most self-assured people Elsa had met. It was her first time seeing him fidget, let alone hesitate. "We know you're doing everything you can, and we appreciate that. I don't wish to undermine that at all. But as the lead reporter of the Village Crown, I must play devil's advocate." He made a vague gesture at their surroundings. "The security, stockpiling, evacuation plans, the weapons from Weselton… none of it can change the fact that we will most likely be hopelessly outnumbered. What if we do everything we can and it's still… do you understand?"

It was impossible not to understand. Pursed lips and furrowed brows clouded every face. Puzzled children tugged at their parents' hands, hankering for answers that the adults refused to give them.

"What if it's still not enough," Anna finished. "Right?"

Wael nodded bashfully.

Elsa already knew what her sister would say. It did not matter what words Anna chose; Arendelle was merely asking for her optimism. Like trees growing towards the sunlight, everyone wanted to be told that everything would be—

"I don't know," Anna admitted.

Elsa stared.

"Oh," Olaf said. "That is not what I thought she was going to say."

"You… don't know?" Wael repeated in confusion.

"No. Sorry. I've tried the crystal ball thing, but I just don't have the power to see the future." Anna chuckled self-consciously. "We're all doing our best."

Elsa heard the echo of her sister saying, 'I don't have magic, sis.'

Anna was the queen now, and the sun should not have to stand in anyone's shadow. Elsa may be the Fifth Spirit, but she was also nothing more than the former queen. Wasn't she?

Did you really keep your distance for Anna's sake? her conscience questioned. Or was it because you didn't want to remind the people that there will never be another queen like you?

She could feel nature's snow building up in the clouds, but it took nothing more than a thought to keep it from falling. It was far from the weight of the world, but it was one that she could bear. It was a power Nuor had never wanted, and one that Elsa had never asked for. But it was still hers.

Why, then, had she so cruelly asked Anna to be responsible for them? Use me, Elsa had asked of her little sister, even as she had known, irrevocably, that Anna could never do it.

If you know you are irreplaceable, why are you still standing back here?

Abdicating had not made her normal. She had never been normal. All her life, she had been the least powerless person in the kingdom. To truly be powerful, though, required a choice.

A hush fell over the crowd as Elsa walked forward.

When she reached the podium, Anna looked torn between upholding her picture of grace and running to her. The latter emerged victorious. Elsa almost stumbled back down the steps when Anna threw her arms around her.

"No," her sister mumbled stubbornly into her shoulder. "No, you hear me?"

"I have never seen you so unhappy to see me." Elsa rubbed Anna's back. "Are you okay?"

Anna pulled away, her expression both chagrined and fierce. "I can't ask you to fight in a war, Elsa."

"Anna, I'm not asking for permission. Arendelle is my home, too. There are things only I can do." Elsa held out her hands, glowing with magic. Perfectly in control. "I'm still the Snow Queen."

Elsa knew all the spectrums of light in her sister's eyes. Fear, awe, love—time and time she'd met them, unwavering. Now, they danced together in a haze.

"That's the first time I've heard you call yourself that," Anna said. "'Snow Queen'."

So it was.

A strange sensation zipped through Elsa's being as she turned to face the fjord. She felt the other Spirits notice her despite the miles between them, as if she had become a beacon. It was like the first time she had stood in the heart of Ahtohallan.

Fifth Spirit. Snow Queen. Names did not matter in the end.

Elsa stepped into her power.

OoOoO

The water jug shattered without warning.

No, Hans realised. It was not the glass; it was the water. Settle down, he snapped at the Nokk—then stopped when he noticed the storm within.

No, he realised a second time. It wasn't a storm. It was an earthquake.

The fjord trembled. Her hands, though, were steady and sure as stone. A conductor, architect, mason. The water stood no chance—the ice devoured it, tore apart its lattice, reconstructed it. Colder, tougher, until it resembled diamond more than ice. What was she making?

"I'll be damned," Hans muttered.

Walls. Majestic, crystalline walls. Higher than any ship. Stronger than a hundred men. Seamless. Flawless. Merciless.

"You really know how to shut the world out, don't you, Elsa?"

The Nokk snorted, brimming with triumph. That was how Hans knew it had not slipped up; it had intentionally drawn him into the link between spirits. It had wanted him to see what he was up against. He chuckled.

"Is something funny?"

Hans looked over at the dishevelled woman sitting hunched across from him, swirling a bony finger in the puddle splattered across the table. The room was so dark that she did not seem to notice the water threatening to trickle off the edge and onto her skirt. Hans knew, though. He was the one holding the liquid in place, after all.

"Yes, Mother. It is hilarious. Arendelle is barricaded. They think they're safe because they have her." Hans leaned forward on his elbows and picked up the largest piece of broken glass. "They don't know that Caleb has me."

His mother blinked slowly. "Caleb… why hasn't he come to see me in so long?"

Hans stopped turning the glass shard over in his fingers. "I came to see you, Mother. I'm here. Don't act senile now."

Finally, she raised her head and looked at him with glazed eyes. "Ah," she murmured. "I think your father said he wanted to speak to you. It won't do to keep him waiting."

"He's dead, Mother. Rudi and Runo slit his throat, remember?"

He saw her lip tremble. "No..."

"Yes. But don't worry, karma caught up. Runo got himself killed. Rather, he was too stupid to realise Caleb had sent him on a suicide mission. What else? Ah, yes. Gregory's dead too. Apparently, I was responsible for that."

He stopped short of adding, I didn't mean to do it.

"On the bright side…" Hans held his left hand over the dripping table. The spilled water gravitated upwards towards his palm. "I can do this now."

His mother seemed transfixed by the amorphous liquid hovering before her.

Watching her through the watery mirror between them, Hans felt a twinge of desperation in his chest. "I'm the only one with this power, Mother. I can flood entire kingdoms." Why were his lips so dry? Hans ran his tongue along them. Hesitated. "Are you proud?" he asked quietly.

He saw her eyes flicker. Then she smiled. At him. "Of course I am, Aksel."

The water stopped moving. "He's dead, too, Mother."

"Don't be silly. You're right here."

Hans closed his eyes. Closed his fist around the broken glass. "Yes, I am. I'm right here. Do you know why Caleb decided not to stick a knife in my chest? It's all thanks to you, really. That prostitute you and Father turned a blind eye to? I, snivelling and begging at my dear brother's feet, swore to bring that woman back to life. And he believed me. He knows it's impossible by now. But he's still going along with it. That's how insane he is now."

Hans opened his eyes but did not look at his mother. Instead, he kept his head down. Just like she had all her life. "Why did you let that happen? Why did you let the others kick me around? Why didn't you tell Father that I was a good son, too?"

Silence. Hans saw the reason; he had unconsciously twisted the water into a knife. His mother's wide eyes were fixed on the blade.

Hans burst out laughing. "Are you scared? Of me? Oh, you should see what Caleb's been doing down in the crypts. What he's planning. This, Mother?" He plunged the knife into the wood. It held its shape, as sharp as the glass that was cutting into his palm. Caleb wouldn't feel the pain, but Hans could still make him bleed. "This is nothing."

She stared at him.

"Do you even see me?"

Her mouth opened. No words came out. Tears welled up in her eyes.

But Hans had seen the way the water had held her attention. He knew what he had to do.

A/N: It's… finally… finished… I don't know what else to say except that I've been writing this chapter so long, I want to celebrate its completion with hot chocolate. We're over two thirds now!

Thanks for reading (and waiting)!