Chapter 1

Two Kingdoms

She could hear it. The whimpering, the pleading. With a gasp her eyes opened, and she shot up from her bed of discarded newspapers, straw, and a tattered old blanket that had long used up its usefulness for another. It was still early. She could tell because of how dim the light filtering into the alleyway was. At first, she was completely disoriented. Then the memories came back. Where she had been, what she had done, and how she had come to the pass she was now. It was all there to great her with the pangs of hunger fast on their heels. Oddly enough, she could still hear the whimpers. Glancing across the cold, cobble stone surface, she spotted a writhing motion across from her. It was Michael in the grips of another nightmare it seemed.

"John…John!" She hissed into the dark.

"I hear him." John's voice, groggy and strained with exhaustion answered.

She could just make out his form as she slowly moved over to tend to his brother. Michael let out a loud cry.

"Shhhhh, tis alright brother. You are safe and with friends." His brother attempted to calm him.

"John, John, where is Wendy?!" Michael's feeble voice begged.

"She is not here, brother, she is still away."

"I had the most horrible dream. They were…"

"Shh, tis over now. You are awake and the nightmares have gone."

As John continued to comfort his brother, she stretched a bit and got to her feet. Torn from the relative warmth of her ad hoc sleeping arrangements, a fresh wave of shivers passed over her, so she wrapped her blanket tightly about her shoulders before attending to the distraught boy.

"We are here, Mikey." She crooned to the boy, who had begun to sob. "You are safe."

"But I had a dream about Wendy. They were beating her and…"

"We do not know what her circumstances might be, Michael." John reminded his younger brother sternly. "We must not allow our imaginations to dream up such dark fantasies. They are just that."

"How can we know?" Michael's voice cracked as another sought to escape him.

"We cannot, and that is the point."

She laid a hand upon the poor boy's back and began to rub it gently. "Come now, she would not want you losing sleep like this over her, you know that."

This seemed to work, as the sniffling subsided slightly.

"It is early yet, brother. Go back to bed."

The younger brother nodded and laid his head back down upon his own pile of straw. The pair stayed by his side until, at last, his breaths came in the quite huffs that indicated he was back to the land of Morpheus once more. She prayed he would treat him better for the time being. Slowly, quietly, she and John made their way up the alley and gazed out at the square. The baker had already begun his business for the day, as the scent of honey glazed rolls filled the starving duos nostrils. Her stomach growled.

"I would give every possession I have for one of his biscuits. I hear they are heaven wrapped in buttermilk." John muttered, more to himself perhaps.

"I think that all of our possessions combined would not fetch even one." She sighed. "Since we have happened upon the subject, what have we for breakfast?"

"Naught." John replied solemnly

She was stunned to hear it. "Nothing? What of the remains from yesterday's lift?"

"I gave Michael the rest before we laid to bed."

"You what?!" her indignant exclamation caused the sleeping form of Michael to shift slightly, and she lowered her voice a bit. "Why would you do such a thing? That was all we had for this morning."

"I find he sleeps better with a full stomach. It helps to keep the nightmares at bay."

Though anger quickly filled her, she could not find the heart to openly express her displeasure after such an explanation. Instead, she released a long exhale.

"And yet he suffered nightmares anyway, and now he does not even have breakfast to awaken to at least." She observed.

John bowed his head in shame. "I know."

There was nothing more to be said on the matter really. She was still fuming at his shortsightedness but had confidence that he was capable of enough introspection to understand his error. He really was quite a brilliant person, one of the sharpest minds she had ever met. If only his heart would not get in the way at times.

"We should bring our attention to finding tonight's supper then." She said in a bid to change to the subject.

John nodded in agreement. "I think it best if we avoid the Tailor Street market for a time after yesterday. What does that leave us?"

"Very little. Apparently the high feathers have taken to hanging about the central market in greater numbers since that riot last week, and, well…" she glanced once more at Michael, "…after what happened to Wendy, it would probably be best if we stay away from Rigton Court."

"What about the Downs?"

"Oliver said that if he or his crew saw any of our noses down there again, he'd relieve us of them, remember?"

"Then where?" John began to sound frustrated.

She hesitated for a moment. "There is Liberty Street."

John's face instantly donned a scowl, "That is Pan's land."

"I know, but our options are dwindling."

"We would come away with barely enough to feed a baby bird by the time we had paid his tribute."

"Perhaps, but it is better than starving, is it not?"

"I will not be extorted by those criminals."

"A rather hypocritical judgment to render considering we stand here now planning thievery."

"We take only what we need from those who can afford to lose it. He would steal the last morsel from his own starving mother."

"That may be, but at least his gang will not flay us on sight. We have better odds of coming away with something."

She had hope that her argument had swayed him briefly, as he paused and pondered it. Then his face hardened again, and he vehemently shook his head.

"No, I will risk the Rigton Court again before I beg for scraps at Pan's feet." He resolved.

"John do not be foolish! If you are pinched, what will become of Michael?"

He did not have an answer to that, but the pain and anxiety that crossed his eyes was patent. Glancing down at his shoes (if one could call the tattered, rag bound shells that had once been a rather nice pair of schoolboy's boots that) he was back to pondering.

"There is always risk, no matter where we go."

"Yes, but through planning we may avoid some of it. You owe it to him to try." She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. John looked back at Michael. The sunlight had begun to grow a bit stronger, and she thought that she could see the beginnings of tears in the corners of his eyes.

"I wish she was here. She always knew how to keep his spirits up." He whispered.

The pain and hopelessness in his words stung her. Unsure of what else could be said or done, she pulled the dark-haired boy into an embrace. The pair stayed like that for a time. They had been fighting to survive together for almost four months now. It would be lying to say she was not grateful to have met the Darlings. They had brought a color of human companionship that had been absent her world since she had become one of the street's may citizens attempting to eek out an existence on its cold, hard cobblestone surfaces. That felt like many lifetimes ago.

John brought her back from her memories with a gentle push away. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"I…I suppose we should go and speak to Pan then."

"I can go alone if you prefer."

"No, no, I will go with you. We both will. It matters to all of us."

"John…"

"Anna, please. I cannot bear the thought of sending you into that den of hyenas alone."

He had to feel like he was leader now. Wendy was the eldest, and they had always followed her lead. With her gone, John was faced with filling her own ragged footwear. She just feared that they would find trouble fitting. Nonetheless, she acquiesced with a nod.

"Very well then, we shall go and see him after Michael has gotten a few more winks."

John returned her nod and started back toward his own bed to pretend that he too was going to get more sleep, though she doubted he would ever find it. Turning back to the square she took another deep breath of the sweet aroma of the bakery.

"I swear, I should sell my soul for a nice hot breakfast." She sighed.

"Take care saying things like that." John called back. "The Devil listens."

She was late to breakfast, and Freida would not let her forget it.

"Please, my lady, your father is waiting." The maid begged as Elsa gazed at the new outfit that had been laid out for her that morning.

The princess ignored the pleading, and did a slight twirl, watching the light blue material of the dress flutter as she did so. It matched the blouse she wore atop a white silk shirt.

"He truly does such fantastic work, Monsieur Mortier. The material is superb." The princess observed as she continued to admire the outfit.

"Yes, my lady, now please…"

"Yes, yes Freida. That will be all." She dismissed her servant with a wave of her hand, who reluctantly took her leave.

"Fantastic work." She continued to admire the dress and blouse. She loved the color. It matched very closely with her eyes and stood out well against the drape of her long light blonde hair.

A knock at the door raised her ire. "Freida, I will be there shortly! Cease your incessant badgering, please."

"It is me, my lady." A new voice responded.

The door opened to reveal a woman with hair that had once been blonde itself but had begun to give way to a steel gray that was slowing marching toward the top of her head with time. Her face showed a few of its own signs of the march, but over all it could be said she looked well for a woman of her years. Her dark brown eyes met Elsa's as she entered.

"What is it, Syrisa?" The princess inquired.

"I wished only to remind you that we will be having your piano lessons in the southeast wing's music room today instead of the ballroom. Renovations have started on it."

Her tutor's reminder was unneeded, and it served only added to Elsa's irritation.

"I am aware, you need not remind me every hour, Syrisa."

At this the tutor crossed her arms and gave Elsa a stern look. "I have not done so; this is my first. Perhaps a reminder of manners would be prudent as well."

There were few people who had the courage to speak in such a manner to the crown princess, but Syrisa carried the king's authority when dealing with her, and she knew it. Elsa backed down.

"My apologize, ma'am. I will be in the music room at eleven."

Syrisa raised an eyebrow at that. "I do hope you intend to be more punctual than you are at present."

This rebuke elicited an exasperated sigh from her charge.

"Must everyone be so interested in my being on time for breakfast?"

"You know your father does not like to be kept waiting. A king's time is precious."

"More precious than breakfast with his only daughter?" Her attention was back on the mirror.

"You are not his only concern, Elsa. He has an entire kingdom full of subjects to govern." Syrisa admonished her sternly.

Elsa sighed and finally made her way toward the door. "Oh, I am certain that this morning fare will include another lecture on the 'good of the realm,' and another list of potential mates I have to endure sorting through." She said as she passed.

Before she could go much further, however, Syrisa reached out grabbed her shoulder.

"Your father worries for the future of his line, as any king would. Since your mother's passing…"

"He feels the hands of time moving against him. You have given me this same speech before."

"I like to think that you listen."

At this, Elsa reached up to lay a reassuring hand upon her tutor's.

"Always." They shared a smile at that.

"I shall see you at eleven then." Said Syrisa.

"I shan't be late." Elsa promised before heading off toward the dining hall.

Upon reaching it, she found her father seated at the head of the table, and a place had been set for her off to his right with breakfast already laid out upon it. Though she had expected a lecture, she was pleasantly surprised to find her father busy speaking with a man she did not recognize. His skin was far darker than any other she had ever seen and was complimented by a hair or short cut black hair with a neatly maintained black beard encircling his mouth, though the rest of his face was clean shaven. All of this was crowned by a pair of dark brown eyes that briefly locked with the princess's as she took her seat.

"And you are certain the riots were, in fact, instigated by domestic agitators?" The king continued, not even acknowledging his daughter's arrival.

"Yes, your majesty." The dark-haired man confirmed with a nod. He had a strange accent that Elsa had never heard before. "I suspect that the Braqueland government is seeking to turn the winds of global sympathy to their advantage."

"By accusing Arendelle of fanning the flames of discontent within their borders."

"Yes, sire. If they can convince others that the negotiations over Caspellia are not being taken in earnest by ourselves, and that we are seeking to use the issue to destabilize Braqueland instead, it will paint us as the aggressors. We will lose much support on the international stage."

"Is there any way we can prove this?"

"Not at the moment, sire."

"Very well then, that will be all." The king dismissed him.

The man bowed before glancing at Elsa once more and giving her one as well. He then turned and strode from the dining hall. At first, an awkward silence ruled the air as Elsa picked at her by now cold eggs, and the king said nothing between bites of his own. At last, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"You have had the chance to look at the photograph of the Duke of Saarland's boy?" He inquired.

"His nose is more akin to a beak, and his eyes are far to close together." Elsa replied in a respectful, but matter-of-fact tone.

"Perhaps the camera is merely being unkind."

"I imagine his mirror is not much kinder."

At this quip the king's fork paused, and Elsa mentally braced herself for a tongue lashing.

"You have never even met the boy." He continued calmly.

"Must I?"

"Elsa, this prevarication must cease." His voice began to rise. "You are the future queen of Arendelle, and this kingdom's future must be secured. To do so, you must marry. You are nearly nineteen, and it is long overdue!"

"Then as future queen, I think it only right that I choose who I shall have rule at my side, and it will not be Duke of Saarland's son."

Her father was on his feet now staring daggers into her own defiant eyes. "You should consider yourself lucky that you are being permitted a choice at all. Your grandfather would have seen you marry a man of his choosing regardless of your opinion on the matter."

"If that is how you feel, then make my choice for me and let us be done with it." It was a challenge; one she knew he would never accept.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, the king flopped back down into his chair in defeat.

"Is it your intention to use mother's dying wish against me until I too have joined her?" He demanded, though there was a pain behind his words.

"Father, all I ask is that you honor your promise."

"And all I ask is that you honor your daughterly duties. Arendelle must have an heir, and it must have a king and queen."

"This is a talk that we have had many times before, father."

"And we shall have it again and again until you are wed. It is your duty as a princess."

"Yet, my first duty will be to rule. Have you no faith in my ability to do so without a man standing over my shoulder?"

"It has naught to do with your abilities or your preparedness, it is a matter of securing a legacy that has sat upon that throne for generations. Would you see decades of sweat and toil from your family come to nothing?!"

With these words, he returned to his chair with a long, deep sigh.

"Elsa, I am amid securing what may be the closest chance that this kingdom has had in two generations of becoming whole again. If it does, I must be assured of its future."

"Father, I will rule, I promise you."

"And if you have no heir, what then? Who shall carry forth our name?"

"If you are truly about to accomplish what you say father, then history shall."

At this, he laughed, a short, unamused laugh. "Those who bury the dead write history."

"Then it would be best you have faith in me." Elsa retorted.

Before the king could offer a response, the doors to the hall opened and a harried looking servant entered.

"What is the meaning of this? We are at table." The king demanded, obviously annoyed by the intrusion.

"Forgive me my lord," the young servant stammered, "but you have received an urgent telegram."

"Well, what does it say?"

"Forgive me, my lord, but it is marked 'private.'"

At this, the king gestured his permission to approach, and the boy placed it beside his lord's plate before retreating to a respectful distance. With a swift motion of his knife, the king unsealed the message and quickly perused its contents. Elsa's curiosity led her to crane her neck in a bid to read some herself.

"The Duke of Dunbroch returns to court." The king announced.

"Today?" Elsa asked, unable to completely disguise her sudden anticipation.

At this the king gave a knowing smile. "Indeed, and young Merida attends him."

Embarrassed by her failure to disguise her excitement, the young princess blushed. "Indeed? It shall be good to see them both, then." She said in what she hoped was a more reserved tone.

"It shall indeed." The king agreed as he folded the telegram back up and placed it in his suit's breast pocket. "You should run along then and go prepare for this morning's lessons. I am sure you will have other plans for this afternoon."

At this Elsa grinned, swiftly scooped up a couple more mouthfuls of egg before leaving the rest for the dogs, and stood before giving her father a loving kiss upon the cheek.

"Thank you, father."

As she turned and started toward the door, however, his voice called after her.

"Elsa…"

She paused to turn.

"Our discussion on the other matter is far from over."

It left a cloud hanging over her brighter mood as she departed, but she chose, for the time being, to ignore it. For now, she would enjoy the ray of sunshine that fortune had brought her that day.

The future was for another day.

Evening all. I know this chapter might have been a bit slow, but I promise some spice is coming. My main goal was to demonstrate the two very different circumstances our two main characters are in at the moment, and I feel like I have done so. I enjoyed the idea of juxtaposing Anna's desperation for breakfast with Elsa's own lack of interest in evening being on time for it. Those who have plenty often take it for granted, do they not? Anyway, hope you enjoyed the read, and stay tuned for more. Drop a review and let me know how I'm doing. Any and all criticism is welcome from prose to penmanship. It's how we grow after all. Cheers everyone, stay safe and stay healthy.