22. The Snow-Battle of the Century
The children of Arendelle wasted no time in making snowballs or availing themselves of the slides, swing sets, and merry-go-rounds. One group beckoned to Beatrice and Adam, inviting them to join their team. "Can we, mama? Papa?" Adam asked.
"Just for a little while," Irene consented.
"Come on!" shouted Olaf and took the Scurr children by the hands. "I'll introduce you!" The three of them made their way over.
Four of the larger men from the foundry grabbed Torvik and dumped him in a deep mound of snow. "All right, gents. I guess we'll call it a day," came Torvik's muffled voice from underneath the snow. The metal workers quickly started to fling loose snow at each other.
Zlata knelt and packed a snowball, playfully pegging Waclaw on the side of his head and then took refuge behind her parents, who did their best to avoid shielding her, as Waclaw immediately began to form his own snowball to retaliate. Einar targeted Kristoff, who claimed the nearest unoccupied snow fort and commenced with building a stockpile of ammunition.
Many of the merchants were patting projectiles together, sizing each other up, ranking their business rivals. The foreign ambassadors and their entourages formed coalitions, some going for the natural alliance, but others were strange bedfellows. Rogalund and the Khentiians were giving the Daloans a tutorial in the art of making snowballs, and everyone chivalrously considered them off limits while they got the hang of it. Some members of the tour groups stared in astonishment; others joined the fray. The university staff squared off against the students - except for Åsa who tagged Dag on the chin and lobbed another one that landed on Kristoff's head as he hunkered behind the fort.
"That's my girl!" encouraged Einar. Åsa scored another bullseye on Kristoff. "You'll command a mountain artillery regiment one day!"
"Hey, how about a little help here?" yelled Kristoff. "Dag? Anna? Sven? Anyone?" Dag charged over, taking direct hits to his back the whole way. Sven also came to his aid, although the reindeer couldn't do much more in this situation than toss loose snow or shovel it into a pile.
"Does this sort of thing happen often?" asked Homberg, rolling some snow between his hands, looking for a worthy adversary.
"Sometimes on Saturdays, after the magic show, depending on the crowd's mood," Anna answered, also compacting snow and looking around.
"Does the Queen ever participate?" Duffin enquired, holding a snowball in each hand.
"Not usually," Anna replied, still scouting. "It wouldn't be sporting."
Zlata had been attempting to get Waclaw again from behind her parents, but her aim was poor, and her snowball ended up smacking her father in the back of the head. "Sorry, so sorry!" Zlata giggled. The professor roared in faux fury and grabbed a clump of snow and began chasing after his daughter, with Waclaw also in pursuit. Zlata opted for safety in numbers and dashed toward the university students, who were exchanging heavy fire with their instructors. "Mother! Help!" she shrieked gleefully.
"You are old enough to fight your own battles, my treasure! Especially if you started them!" Debora admonished with a laugh.
Anna found satisfactory quarry and gallantly waited until he was facing her. The Minister of Tourism took the snowball right on the nose. "Is that how it's going to be, Your Highness?" Haugen archly accused.
"Hey, I hit you on your front. That's perfectly fair," Anna maintained, trying to duck in time as Haugen prepared to return the favor. It ended up grazing the top of her head, and most of the disintegrating ball splattered Irene and John, who had been keeping watch on Beatrice and Adam over in the battle's junior division. The Anglians thereupon decided to take good-natured retribution on both the Princess and the Minister.
The Daloans had proved to be fast learners and able snowball warriors, and were now wrecking havoc side by side with the Khentiians in the battle's diplomatic sector, which was coming dangerously close to merging with the business section. The foundry mini-skirmish already had met up with the petty feud between Team Einar and Team Kristoff, and although the ice harvesters had joined forces to combat the smiths, they were still outnumbered and further hindered by the irresistible temptation to take potshots amongst themselves. Homberg and Debora charged in to reinforce the ice harvesters' left flank.
"When in Rome..." rationalized Papadopoulos and rushed over to provide offensive capabilities for Sven on their right flank. Duffin joined him, quickly avenging a barrage that Torvik had directed at Einar.
"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Einar said to her, doffing his cap - and immediately was pummeled by the young man the foundry had sent to the castle.
"Stay focused, papa!" Åsa scolded.
"How long does this sort of thing tend to last?" Papadopoulos wondered and hurled away from behind the cover of Sven's antlers, which could deftly block and break up a large quantity of snowballs with a single sweeping motion.
"Usually it winds down once all the lines blur and it turns into chaos," Kristoff explained, getting a few good hits on the metal workers and Einar.
"You mean this isn't chaos right now?" Homberg laughed.
"Not even close. You can still tell who's on what side in which fight," Kristoff insisted, taking a snowball to the chest from the foundry side and another on the back of his neck from Einar.
"Will you two stop it?" Åsa chided. "We have a common enemy right now!"
"Incoming!" yelled Papadopoulos as Anna and Haugen were running at them at nearly full speed, seeking refuge from the Scurrs, who had turned out to be a formidable couple in a snowball fight. The smiths took advantage of the distraction to launch a glorious offensive.
"Thanks a bunch, Anna!" Kristoff said sarcastically as his girlfriend dove in between him and the ice fort. Haugen tried to do the same thing with Dag. "You know that using human shields is considered bad manners."
"I'm not using you as a shield; I just want to use the fort for a few minutes, and you just happen to be in the way," Anna tried to convince everyone.
"Pardon me, Ice Master Bjorgman," said Irene, using her best no-nonsense voice that had been honed by nine years of motherhood, as she and John jogged up. "I believe one of the people I'm looking for is hiding-" She was cut off by a bombardment from the foundry men that hit her and her husband dead on. "This means war!" The midwife and doctor momentarily ignored their previous objectives and launched a salvo at Torvik and his crew.
Haugen took the opportunity to try to slip away. "Not so fast, good sir," John said sharply and pelted the Minister of Tourism in the shoulder, with Debora getting some of the powder on her cheek.
"Will you be more careful, Doctor?" hissed Debora in good-natured annoyance. "I have enough to worry about with the lunkheads in front of us."
"Never mind the lunkheads in front of us! The university's fight is headed this way!" Duffin warned.
Sure enough, the students and faculty were slowly migrating toward their snow fort, with Sinibaldo and Newark trotting in advance, trying to keep out of the fracas. The Myrcian and the Lombard had remained aloof, preferring to be amused by the hijinks from a distance, but they were now running out of neutral territory along the waterfront and found themselves blocked off from the inner town by the converging factions. The boundaries of the diplomats and the merchants had already intermixed, and their general movement was also toward the water, since the combatants wanted to keep within reach of the snow and the forts.
"I suppose calling for a truce would be useless," Newark remarked dryly as he approached his fellow visitors. Duffin was the first to sock him with a snowball, followed rapidly by the Scurrs, Debora, Homberg, Einar, and the foundry men. His entire upper body had a snow coating. "Not so bad."
"If you really want to get out of this, just walk away," Anna advised. "You'll take some inadvertent hits, but nobody will deliberately stop you from leaving. Going through the kids' side is probably the easiest."
"Oh, if I'm going to take some hits, as you put it, then I might as well participate," Sinibaldo ventured with a sly grin.
"Well, gird up your loins now, my friend, because the scholars will be upon us soon," Papadopoulos notified him.
"Let's see if the old arm is still limber," Sinibaldo said as he formed a supply of ammunition.
"Now that I've been broken in," muttered Newark after he brushed the snow off his clothes and moustache, "I've nothing to lose. At least the Queen made snow that isn't cold and doesn't melt."
Debora gasped in surprise. "You're right! I hadn't even noticed!"
"It's very easy to get used to it. It's like second nature," Haugen told her.
Sinibaldo and Newark established that they were fine snowball throwers, and actually showed signs of enjoying themselves, even when on the receiving end. The metal workers now found themselves outgunned by a disciplined cadre with good aim. Newark repeatedly walloped many of the smiths right between the eyes, while Sinibaldo teamed with Åsa to lob precise blows to the top of their opponents' heads.
"I could get used to doing this a few times a month," Sinibaldo admitted after they scored a triple hit on Torvik. "It's good exercise."
"It's almost therapeutic," Newark agreed, putting together a row of snowballs. "And much better than using real snow that turns to slush and trickles down into your collar. This is a very interesting substance; it can be formed readily and holds it shape, but becomes loose and powdery upon impact, but then can be readily formed again." He threw six in quick succession and nailed six foundry men. "I'll definitely be keeping a sample of this."
"It really will be gone at the stroke of five," Haugen cautioned, while smacking a smith in the chest.
"But the Queen can make some that doesn't have a time limit for you tonight at the dinner," Anna suggested, and bopped the young messenger in the ear.
Torvik and his crew seemingly sensed that the tide of their contest had turned against them, and had little chance of swinging back in their favor, so they switched their sights to the students and teachers, who were initially puzzled about the source of the indiscriminant fusillade.
"Which side are we on now?" asked Homberg.
"Oh, there's Eliasz!" called out Debora, and clouted her husband on his rump. He looked around, and Debora waved to him. He launched a snowball at her that fell well short. "Don't worry. We're perfectly safe from him. He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from inside the barn."
"I feel obligated to support my fellow professors," Newark proclaimed, and struck the nearest student in the shoulder.
"Well, I'm for my fellow students," Åsa asserted, and tossed a snowball on Holmboe's head.
"Professors!" affirmed Sinibaldo, and tossed a snowball on some unsuspecting student's head.
"Students!" endorsed Einar, supporting his daughter's position, and pasted one to Holmboe's midsection.
Once the university forces saw Team Foundry and the augmented Team Ice Harvester, they decided to play no favorites and were unleashing volleys of snowballs in all directions.
"Professors!" John contended, clipping the base of Stefanie's ponytail.
"Students!" Anna upheld, and, in defense of her friend, let one fly at John's chin.
"Professors!" Irene urged, and planted one on Anna's forehead.
"Students!" shouted Kristoff, and blasted Irene's chest.
"Professors!" exhorted Haugen, landing one on Anna's nose in revenge for her earlier attack.
"Students!" pressed Duffin, who had no real allegiance or grudge but was merely caught up in the flow of the argument, and released one at Haugen's ear.
"Is this chaos now?" asked Homberg.
"We shouldn't be squabbling amongst ourselves!" Papadopoulos implored, with snowballs coming from all directions as the smiths also took advantage of their renewed in-fighting.
"Look out for the men in the strange clothes!" yelled Dag as the Daloans and the Khentiians were driving the larger part of the diplomats' and merchants' combined battle toward them.
"And here comes the kids' brigade!" alerted Einar as the children were also pushing in from the other side.
They could hear imaginative exchanges among the children, such as: "I summon a snow-dragon!" - "Well, I conjure a snow-knight!" - "Hah, here's a snow-wolf coming for you!" - "You'd better run from my giant snow-spider!" - "Argh! Spiders! But I have a glacier to squish 'em!" while the youngsters threw perfectly ordinary snowballs at each other.
"This is really close to chaos!" Kristoff bellowed to Homberg, as the snowballs flew fast and thick, almost at the level of a very localized white-out.
Friend and foe alike were forgotten as visibility diminished due to both the sheer volume of snowballs concentrated in a small area and the participants' need to wipe the powdery snow from their faces so often. And then the artificial blizzard swiftly came to a halt as the piles of snow that Elsa had created were finally exhausted, and it was no longer easy to scrape together enough for another projectile because the snow was thinly and evenly distributed throughout the harborside district.
The storm of snowballs was quickly replaced by gales of laughter. Their veritable symphony of giggles, chuckles, guffaws, howls, and whoops could be heard from the far side of the town. Backs were slapped; hands were shook; hats were recovered; hair was affectionately tousled; Olaf dispensed warm hugs to anyone who wanted one. Most of the adults walked back to their regular affairs, chatting amicably and reenacting choice exploits of the battle. The children turned to the playground equipment.
"I never knew entropy could be this enjoyable," Eliasz said as he reunited with Debora.
"It was the most fun I've had in quite a while," Sinibaldo concurred.
"Hello again, Princess Anna!" Ambassador Jamang exclaimed, his exhilaration mirrored by his compatriots. "This has been the most amazing day of my life! The only thing that could make this 'snowball fight' concept better would be the presence of the Queen!"
"I'm glad you liked it, Ambassador. We'll probably have another one on Saturday," Anna said with a genuine smile at the tropical visitors' delight. "Usually, my sister acts as a referee, but today's fight was spur of the moment, and she has a heap of paperwork to deal with. Plus there are the preparations for the state dinner to tend to." The Daloans' eyes lit up at the prospect of another snowball fight coming soon, and they bounded off to tell the Khentiians the good news.
"If you tell me that Queen Elsa is personally cooking a gourmet, four-course meal for fifty people, I shall be forced to surrender to my feeling of utter inadequacy," confessed Newark.
Anna stifled a squeal of laughter. "Elsa? Cook?" She looked over at Kristoff who was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smirk. The Princess' giggles erupted, and the Ice Master also gave in to a fit of chuckles; Sven also grinned like a maniac. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Anna wiped tears from her eyes. "Sh-she can't even boil water!"
"Well ... well, she ... she can boil ... water," Kristoff managed to gasp out while almost doubled over. "But she has to ... has to try really hard."
Their mirth threatened to become contagious, even though the guests and locals sincerely did not want to commit the faux pas of publicly laughing at the Snow Queen - especially since the Snow Queen had just demonstrated the ability to tear steel apart and crush concrete.
"Professor Holmboe mentioned there were a few things that escaped Her Majesty's comprehension," John recalled.
"Oh, it's not that my sister doesn't understand the ideas behind cooking," Anna said, recovering somewhat. "It's just that ... that ..." She fought back another round of giggles. "Have you heard the saying 'A watched pot never boils'? Well, if Elsa is too close to the pot and lets her impatience get the best of her, it will really never boil." The Princess scrunched her eyes shut in an effort to keep the giggles at bay.
"It's the same with heating up a pan, if she's really hungry," Kristoff continued. "Sometimes, she'll even unintentionally put out the whole fire if she becomes too frustrated. Which sorta makes cooking eggs difficult." He pursed his lips, trying to smother an impudent smile.
"When it's a big, important dinner, a lot of times the cooks forbid her from coming anywhere close to the kitchen," Anna revealed, the pitch of her voice rising with each word and her shoulders shook from trying to keep her laughter in check.
Einar was brave enough to guffaw at the absurdity of kitchen staff bossing around a monarch who could lift a 55,000 kilogram block of concrete as though it were a soap bubble. He turned to Dag and teased, "Well, I guess you can cross her off your list, lad. She can't cook!"
Dag pulled his cap as far down over his face as he could.
"Oh, she can manage something edible if it doesn't require too much fussing, and if she's not ravenous or in a big hurry," Anna acknowledged. "Something like a simple soup or stew that she can let simmer while she keeps her distance. But pâte à choux is out of her league."
"You hear that? Out of her league, lad," Einar emphasized, and put Dag's cap back in its proper place while giving the young man a meaningful stare.
"Laugh as you want, Your Highness, since it's not my place to say otherwise, but Her Majesty's magic has made working in the foundry safer and more comfortable for us," Torvik said with a touch of censure, even though he had no authority to correct the Princess. "Yes, I may complain about trying to meet Her Majesty's impossible requests. And I may be more unsettled than the average person about what we saw her do today... But I am grateful to her for coming up with ideas to reduce the dangers and the hardships of working with fire and molten metal. We all have our stumbling blocks, so I won't mock her for sometimes struggling to brew a cup of tea for herself."
"We are not making fun of the Queen; she also usually laughs at herself or the situation when her magic gets in the way," Anna justified. "Not that it does on too many things these days." Torvik held up an open hand to indicate that he was appeased.
"I would imagine the Queen's magic also plays a role in the production of your remarkably strong steel," Newark angled.
"Sir, let's just say it involves proprietary techniques and equipment that cannot be easily duplicated elsewhere," Torvik hinted. "If you will excuse me, we have to collect today's wreckage now that the fun is over." With that, the smith bowed slightly to Anna and nodded to the rest of them before taking his leave.
Anna knelt to scoop together the snow from a broad area, enough to make another ball and was poised to throw it at Torvik as he gathered up the broken rods when Kristoff gently but firmly grabbed her arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Feisty Pants! Calm down! Let the man work!" The visitors were taken aback by the Princess' fierce determination.
"We were not making fun of Elsa!" Anna huffed.
"I know, but it's easy to see how he could have thought that at first," Kristoff answered calmly. "And the Queen wouldn't be very pleased if she heard you hit an unsuspecting person after the battle was over."
Anna sighed and dropped the ball on the ground. The others relaxed once the situation defused.
"So what preparations for the state dinner does the Queen need to tend to?" asked Papadopoulos, trying to find an uncontroversial topic.
"Oh, just the assigned seating, now that we have a better feel for everybody's personalities," Anna bounced right back to her usual good humor.
"Who gets to sit by Olaf?" the priest enquired.
"Olaf helps out in the children's dining room," Anna explained. "He can eat, but it goes right through him. Literally. It looks a little strange."
"I would very much like to see that!" Homberg chimed in.
"Maybe on Thursday," quipped Sinibaldo, and made a grossed-out face.
Bringing up Olaf and children stirred the Scurrs to check on their son and daughter. Before they became embroiled in the snowball fight, they had watched the little snowman adroitly mind the children's portion and pay particularly good attention to the two new arrivals. Irene spotted Adam playing on a slide with some other boys his age, while Beatrice was talking with two little girls as Olaf pushed them on a merry-go-round. She pointed them out to John, and they started to walk over to see how their little ones were faring. Everyone else followed along.
"Do you know where our daughter ended up?" Debora asked Eliasz. He motioned to one of the adult-sized swing sets, where Zlata and Waclaw were going back and forth while laughing about something with a group of other young adults. Anna and Kristoff immediately recognized the signs of a couple who were wise and secure enough to take their budding relationship slowly. Judging from the fond smiles on the older Mandelbaums' faces, they approved of the match and the pace.
The Scurrs' children noticed their parents -and Princess Anna and Sven- headed their way and ran over to greet them. "Did you have a good time?" asked Irene.
"Oh, mama, it was the best-" Beatrice gushed.
"This snow is wonderful-" Adam prattled.
"We made so many friends, and everyone is so nice-" raved Beatrice.
"Do we get to play like this all the time?" Adam wanted to know.
"Slow down," John laughed. "I guess it's safe to say that you're enjoying yourselves."
"Absolutely," Adam replied with the resoluteness of a nine-year-old.
"Princess Anna, is Snow Queen Elsa really your sister?" asked Beatrice.
"Yes, she's really my sister," Anna responded with amused patience.
"I bet she was a lot of fun to play with," Beatrice declared boldly.
Anna's shoulders twitched slightly; Kristoff tensed and could not keep the concern from showing on his face. That kind of innocuous statement or question from a child had brought Anna to tears before. This time, however, his girlfriend more or less kept her composure, but all of the adults present detected that the Princess and Ice Master were uneasy about something.
"Yeah, she was," Anna said softly and thoughtfully.
Beatrice turned to Adam and demanded: "Why couldn't you have snow magic?"
"Well, why couldn't you be magical?" Adam challenged. "You're the one who's so boring with your dolls and skipping rope."
"Children, don't be-" Irene began.
"Why don't we have magic?" the two youngsters interrupted, pouting.
"That's a very good question," John said. "And looking for an answer to it is one of the reasons we came to Arendelle."
"Remember, I told you that magic like Queen Elsa's is very, very, very rare. So don't be upset that you don't have magic powers," Duffin added helpfully. "Be happy that the Snow Queen shares our world and creates things for you to play with." This seemed to placate the children, who had talked about magic with Miss Duffin on the voyage to Arendelle. Their parents guided them back to the playground area, where they rejoined their new friends.
"I think I'll head back to the castle," Anna said, still introspective. "Someone needs to make sure that the Queen won't try to sneak any paperwork to the dinner tonight."
The visitors smiled, their collective intuition telling them that there was more to it than that, but no one wanted to pry - at least right now. Eliasz, Sinibaldo, and Newark bowed, while the others, following Haugen's lead, simply nodded and waved.
"We'll see you then," said Kristoff, trailing after Anna, sensing her muted mood. Sven wagged his tail and flicked his ears at the new people before bringing up the rear. "Be sure to bring your appetite."
"We shall, Master Bjorgman," Homberg assured him. "We've heard about the castle's hospitality."
Once the Princess, Ice Master, and reindeer were far enough away, Duffin turned to the rest of the group and quietly said, "Somebody tell me that I'm not dreaming."
"If, by that, you are asking for confirmation that you have witnessed steel being pulled apart; tons of concrete floating in air and then being smashed to bits; a living snowman; and an epic snowball fight in temperatures above freezing, then you are not dreaming," Newark answered wryly.
Author's Notes - Gotta have at least one snowball fight. This one isn't that epic, less than 150 people, simply because the town doesn't have the layout or the population for it. But there is some foreshadowing and scientific symbolism going on.
I have decided to give Elsa a cooking impairment because: 1) if you think about it, hunger, impatience, and frustration should cause her powers to flare up and create a "vicious cycle," not necessarily as bad as one fueled by fear, but enough to affect her close surroundings; 2) beings as powerful as Elsa need vulnerabilities and weaknesses (even if it is something as trivial as the inability to make a cup of cocoa/hot chocolate) to keep them from becoming story-wreckers; and 3) I just think the gag of Elsa watching a pot and having it literally never boil is pretty funny, along with the potential for her facial expressions. Can you say "slow burn"? I knew you could.
