26. Let Them Eat Cake

If it was possible to see light through the slice of roast they had served Elsa, then printed words could be read through the meager shaving of chocolate cake that was placed before her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elsa challenged sternly, fixing the maid with a figuratively cold stare. The room's temperature had not dropped, but the staff froze in place when they heard the Queen's tone, the distribution of dessert hanging in limbo. "Serve the guests!"

"I arranged for it," Anna declared. "You didn't eat your dinner. And you didn't eat your dinner last night, either. That's ill-advised. So no dessert. I told you we would think of something."

Kristoff gave Anna a pleading look; it hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours since Grand Pabbie had warned her not to push Elsa, and she had already done something to push Elsa - and he didn't see it coming until it was too late.

The staff were still completely immobilized. Those of them who had been in on the plan suddenly thought it was not nearly as funny and fitting as the Princess had made it sound at lunch. Those of them who had been unaware of it were in a state of panicked uncertainty. The guests were also a veritable statuary, barely daring to breathe. Seeing everyone else's reactions made Anna realize this might not have been the best time to spring her surprise.

"Oh. My. Ha. Ha. Very. Funny. Serve the guests. Now," Elsa ordered, continuing to stare at the maid, who stood motionless, unable to return the Queen's gaze. The rest of the wait staff made up for lost time as they finished their task and retreated to the wings. The guests didn't budge. "Just bring me an appropriate slice of cake," Elsa calmly commanded the maid, who took a trembling step backwards but then halted. "Now."

"Your Majesty-" Kai began apprehensively.

"Let me guess: You have already served all the cake," Elsa coolly deduced. "Sixty adults plus eight children plus my wonderful employees makes for a lot of cakes and not a lot of margin for error. Even though the jesters should have foreseen my displeasure, and had a regular slice in reserve."

"Correct, Your Majesty," Kai quietly confirmed. "Unfortunately."

"You may go," Elsa flatly told the maid, who fled the room, nearly tripping several times in her rush. Elsa closed her eyes and grimaced with exertion as she pushed back against the blast of ice and frost that surged within her. Fighting her anger and her powers' response to it took an effort, but she was not about to release her magic at a formal dinner, no matter what her sometimes ridiculously impulsive little sister and sometimes ridiculously thoughtless staff had done. This was not about missing out on a mere dessert; this was about bad judgment and a disregard for the courtesy due to visitors.

Anna cringed. This was not going anything like she had imagined. Elsa usually did not make scenes in front of other people, even when strongly provoked. Then again, Elsa usually retreated when strongly provoked, but the current circumstances precluded that option, and the last time Anna had seriously goaded Elsa with a room full of foreign dignitaries and local officials watching, the country ended up covered in deep snow for two and a half days or so. "You can have mi-"

"No," Elsa interrupted sharply, not bothering to look at her sister. "You will eat every last crumb of your slice." With one last slight wince, the knowledge that this scheme ultimately stemmed from concern for her well-being won out over her anger, and Elsa wrestled her magic to a level that would not cause her to ice over her utensil and flash freeze whatever she touched with it. She breathed deeply and composed herself. She then picked up her dessert fork -there was only a light coating of frost where her fingers came into contact with the silver, not enough to be noticed by anyone else- and cut off a bite from her own diaphanous piece. Looking around the room at the distressed guests, she popped it in her mouth and ate it. "Please don't let this little stunt upset you," she said genially to the rest of the crowd. "The cakes were prepared for my guests to enjoy."

"Your Majesty, you can have-" the Admiral started to say.

"Absolutely not, Admiral Sverdrup. The cakes were prepared for my guests to enjoy," Elsa asserted. "The whole meal was prepared for my guests to enjoy. Tonight is not about me. Please, do eat."

"I propose a toast to Queen Elsa," offered the Visby ambassador, raising his goblet. "The epitome of a gracious and generous hostess."

The rest joined in, some more nervously than others, echoing: "To Queen Elsa!" and drank a draft. Anna was quite subdued about it. They all tried to match Elsa's equanimity as they took their first bites of the cake, which really was very good.

"I need to have a talk with the staff, because someone's talents are obviously going to waste in the kitchen. With a hand, eye, and nerve steady enough to make this cut, he or she should be in training to be a surgeon," Elsa said dryly as she ate another piece from her veil-thin slice.

At first, no one was sure what to do. Each glanced clandestinely at his or her neighbors to gauge the other people's body language. At last, Minister Nilsson said, "Look on the bright side, Your Majesty. At least you'll keep your girlish figure with Princess Anna overseeing dessert rations. A moment on the lips, forever on the hips."

"And besides, with running the country, I already have enough on my plate as it is," Elsa deadpanned.

Nilsson laughingly groaned. Anna closed her eyes and shook her head. Kristoff bit his lower lip. Haugen paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Tentative looks were exchanged among the rest of the guests. Finally, most of them loosened up, intuiting that any repercussions would occur away from the public eye and probably wouldn't entail corporal punishment. Yet Eliasz still sat a little too stiffly; John looked concerned; Duffin and Newark seemed to be covertly checking for any signs that Elsa had a power leakage. But they all had the good sense to eat every morsel.

"My compliments to the bakers," Nilsson said after she put her fork down. "I hope they survive tomorrow's mini-purge. It would be a shame to lose such abilities over such a relatively harmless prank."

"I am so sorry, Elsa! This is all my fault! Please, please don't fire anyone!" Anna blurted out.

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly again.

"I will use very fair criteria to determine whether anybody gets fired," Elsa said dispassionately. "But more importantly, I am not the one you need to apologize to, Your Highness."

"Wait, what?" Anna asked, puzzled.

"You need to apologize to my guests for disrupting their dinner and making them feel awkward and anxious," Elsa expounded patiently. "That is where your true transgression lies, Princess."

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie gave the Queen a measured look and smiled slightly as he reached the end of his wine.

"Oh," Anna said somberly. It really hadn't occurred to her that the others might be adversely affected by the plot. She assumed that a few of them, especially the French delegation, would disapprove, but she didn't think anybody would feel ill at ease. "I am very sorry for ruining dessert. I beg your pardons."

Ambassador de Flahaut de La Billarderie nodded in acknowledgment of Anna's request for forgiveness, as did the others.

"Just don't try anything like that again, Your Highness," Minister Nilsson cautioned. "Coming between your sister and chocolate is ill-advised. There are forces in this world that you must respect."

"Ladies and gentlemen," announced Kai, "there will be a twenty minute break before the reception in the ball room. The footmen and guards can direct you to the lavatories."

"Ah, yes, speaking of forces in this world that you must respect..." Nilsson said to Haugen, who wondered what he had done to deserve being seated next to her.

The Queen of Arendelle rose from her chair, and all followed suit, standing at attention as she and Anna left the dining room first. Once out of the room, the sisters went their separate ways without speaking; Anna wanted a chance to explain herself better, but their duties weren't anywhere near over for the night. Kristoff hurried from the room a few beats after the royals exited. The rest of the company stretched their legs or sought out a lavatory.

"Well, Princess Anna warned us that dinners here could be a bit of a bumpy ride," Debora observed as her family, the Scurrs, and the others in the research group collected the Queen's gifts and meandered out of the dining room.

"That is one interesting family dynamic," Irene remarked, somewhat mystified.

"I know! It's so nice to see them squabbling like proper siblings," said Minister Nilsson from behind them. "Oh, as if you all never kicked a brother or sister under the table or hid the dessert!" she said in reproof of their aghast looks.

"Never at a state dinner, though," Irene argued.

"Right, because ordinary people like us don't have state dinners," Nilsson reasoned. "But I bet somebody in your family did something naughty or careless or just naïve or otherwise caused a flap once or twice at a big holiday celebration or some other important occasion. Goodness knows my family has some stories to tell about past get-togethers, and re-telling those stories has become a cherished part of our current gatherings, to boot."

"When you put it that way..." Irene said sheepishly.

"See? You understand," Nilsson said kindly. "If you put any family on display for the world to see, there will be a lot of tut-tutting about their behavior - because even if they do start off as an ideal family, being on display for the world to see will give them plenty of eccentricities. Now, our girls' main problems are plain: One of them sometimes doesn't stop to think things through, the other sometimes doesn't stop thinking things through, and the natural consequence is that sometimes neither one can fathom the other even though they love each other dearly. Compared to other royal families, it's only a mild case of madness, if you can even call it madness." With that, the Minister entered a room that was probably a lavatory.

Papadopoulos nodded. "She makes a good point."

The group introspectively dispersed to take advantage of the respite in the socializing, and just missed Kristoff trudge down the hall to the ball room. Usually, receptions weren't nearly as nerve-wracking for him as balls. He didn't have to dance with everybody watching him; he didn't have to be on guard as vigilantly against the would-be suitors who still came to try their luck at winning Anna's interest; as far as mingling went, he could often limit himself to Anna, Haugen, Nilsson, the Admiral, the Bishop, and a few of the other more sympathetic members of the council, military, and constabulary, without offending anybody. At tonight's reception, he even actually found himself liking some of the guests. His snowball fight teammates seemed down to earth, and he would enjoy talking with Homberg or listening to Duffin recall more of her travel experiences.

But Anna's little exploit was sure to be discussed in many of the side-line conversations held safely out of Elsa's earshot. The Ice Master did not look forward to overhearing some of the comments that would be deliberately said a mite too loudly as he passed by certain parties. He also had to admit he was annoyed with Anna for this lapse in critical thinking. She had been doing so much better in the past year, but ever since the university had opened, her impetuous and willful streak had resurfaced, although nothing as major as this.

"Human psychology! This is why I stuck with reindeer for so long," Kristoff muttered to himself. " 'Remember that some of the really snobby diplomats are coming tonight, too,' " he imitated Anna's higher-pitched voice under his breath. "Does she really think that the real me doesn't care about what other people think? Does she really think nobody should care about what other people think, just because she doesn't?"

"Anna cares a lot about what other people think. Maybe even too much," came Elsa's voice from behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to face the Queen, who gave him a knowing smile. "That was a classic example of Anna acting up because she feels insecure, indecisive, or disappointed. Or bored and lonely, but she has no good reason to be bored and lonely."

"I swear I did not know she was planning that!" Kristoff insisted.

"I didn't think for one second that you did," Elsa reassured him. "But obviously I need to remind Kai that I want castle staff hired based on their professional qualifications, which include their sense of decorum and responsibility, and not based on whether Princess Anna thinks they're 'fun.' "

Kristoff gulped timidly. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately."

"Yes, you do. We both do," Elsa said softly. "There's a conflict between reality and Anna's personal concept of what 'And they all lived happily ever after. The end!' means. There's probably even a conflict between Anna's personal concept and what's normally implied when stories use that cliché. Yes, she saved me, and found true love, and the gates are open, but she's not five, and I'm not eight years old anymore."

"Are you sure? Have you ever listened to your own jokes?" Kristoff felt comfortable enough to tease.

"Quiet, you," Elsa said good-humoredly. "All right, I'll save the deconstruction and debunking of standard fairy tales for my meeting with the magic historian. I should get ready for my last grand entrance of the day. Try to give a wide berth to the French, Spanish, Swedish, and Hannoverian diplomats. And let me know immediately if it looks like she's going to punch somebody. Interrupt whoever you need to."

Kristoff nodded, and Elsa strode off. He hadn't had the courage to ask her what he should do if it looked like he was going to punch somebody. It would be such a relief when the guests left. He entered the ball room and gravitated toward the Admiral and his wife. They were friendly towards him, and the Admiral was fairly good at curtailing snide comments from the diplomats.

Back out in the hallway, the research group reassembled, more excited than they were when they gone in search of privacy. Eliasz looked at Debora and was compelled to ask, "Did yours have a flush toilet, too?"

"Yes!" Debora answered in amazement. They all shared exuberant glances and nods.

"Truly, this is a land of wonders," Papadopoulos said.

"I could get used to living in a castle like this," Waclaw said, looking around in even greater admiration than before.

"It might look a bit humble, as far as castles go, on the outside, but the inside is definitely livable," agreed Minister Rogalund as he and the Daloans, Khentiians, Coronans, and Visbians made their way towards the ball room.

"When-" Homberg started to ask.

"Back in the 1700s," Rogalund answered. "Queen Pippilotta, Queen Elsa's great-grandmother, had them installed. Queen Pippilotta was known for her improvements to public sanitation. The castle's flush toilet system was more or less the last undertaking of her reign. They were a newly perfected invention from the Western Isles."

"They're still not exactly common back home, even in palaces," Newark commented. "Arendelle the Prosperous."

"It's been something of a tradition for each monarch to leave the country and the royal family's holdings in better condition than they were when he or she was crowned," Rogalund said with a touch of pride.

"Oooh, Queen Elsa is going to be a tough act to follow," Nasu said musically. The other dignitaries chuckled.

As they entered the ball room, a footman motioned to a table along the wall by the doors, and said to them, "If you wish, you may leave your souvenirs here for the reception." The recipients of the telescopes, microscopes, and snow went along with the suggestion instead of walking around with their hands full.

"That's thoughtful," said Irene. "I take it that we're not the first people to leave a dinner laden with gifts from the Snow Queen."

"By no means," Rogalund laughed. "You're very likely to need a bag or box, which Her Majesty will provide, to take all your goodies home before the evening is over."

"What's the most impressive thing she's ever made for someone?" Jamang asked, staring around the ball room, watching the rest of the dinner guests drift in.

"Well, that's subjective, of course," Rogalund answered. "The one that I myself eventually found the most stirring was the prosthetic leg she made for a gentleman who lost one of his in the Battle of Leipzig. It might not have been her most visually spectacular creation, but a few hours later, the power of what she did really hit me." The others exchanged astonished looks.

"Did it move on its own?" John posed, intensely curious. "Like Olaf or the snow-horse?"

"No. She said she didn't think she could unite it with his body, and didn't think trying to give it a discrete sentience was a good idea," Rogalund said. "But it did have a knee joint that he could adjust for sitting and standing positions and had some kind of shock absorbing system; it fit him very securely and comfortably, and was very light; and it will very likely never break or wear down."

"Now there's something for further investigation," John said, awed by the possibilities.

"Not quite 'Then shall the lame man leap as an hart,' but definitely wonderful," Papadopoulos concurred.

"And she spent thirteen years trying not to use her powers?" Duffin asked incredulously. "What a shame..."

"Her Majesty apparently thought there was a good reason," Rogalund politely maintained.

"Oh, the woodwork, wallpaper, furniture, and carpets would have never survived the young Princess Elsa being one quarter as boisterous as her father or her sister," Nilsson said as she rejoined the group. "I can remember that child simply skipping merrily down the hall to the King's study, and leaving small patches of ice wherever her little feet touched down. She meant no harm -I don't think she even knew she was doing it- but it was a slip-and-fall accident waiting to happen, before it turned into a sopping wet mess on the rug."

John smirked as he saw Duffin's eyes light up like she had just won the grand prize. Rogalund looked mildly irritated by Nilsson's unerring instinct for overly divulgatory statements. Newark and Eliasz pensively processed the information. The others swallowed their laughter.

"How old was she then?" Duffin did a passable impression of nonchalant.

"Four. Cute as a button, and twice as helpful and innocent," Nilsson waxed nostalgic. "It's no act. She comes by it naturally, really she does." This time, they all laughed openly, including Rogalund.

They checked themselves as Kai appeared close to the throne's dais and cleared his throat. They all looked at him and arranged themselves in rows. He then called out: "Queen Elsa of Arendelle." They bowed or curtsied once again as Elsa walked into view from their right. "Princess Anna of Arendelle." Anna scuttled out from their left, and seemed reluctant to get too close to the Queen. Kai gently placed his hands on the Princess' shoulders and stood her in the customary spot, before backing away. There was a round of applause.

"Please be on your best behavior," Elsa whispered as the clapping died down. "Just walk away and come get me if somebody starts to give you too much grief."

"Yes, ma'am," Anna said in an undertone as they walked out toward the crowd to circulate among the crowd.

Elsa made her way over to Professor Fauth, Mrs. Westcott, and Mr. Eyde, while Anna was in doubt about where to start. She wanted to anchor herself next to Kristoff and the Admiral, but etiquette dictated that she say at least a few words of greeting to all the guests. She decided to head towards Rogalund, the Daloans, Khentiians, Coronans, and Visbians.

Very much daunted, Zlata watched the refined diplomats, prominent local officials, and erudite professors break up into groups to chat. The wait staff appeared, carrying trays of after-dinner drinks. "What are we supposed to do?" she quietly asked her mother.

"We can just stand here and talk, or mix it up with the others. The Queen and the Princess will come to us," Debora said. "You'll do fine."

"Just remember that most of the people in this room were throwing snowballs at each other with reckless abandon not too long ago, and that you may have beaned one of them on his or her head," Nilsson reminded everyone, bringing smiles to Zlata's and Waclaw's faces. "Queen Elsa knows what she's doing, most of the time" she added with a wink.

"So the snowball fight was calculated?" Eliasz realized. "A way to get us all to work out tension before the dinner."

"Certainly a way to make most of you sedentary academics and attachés tired enough to not want to linger too long at this reception," Nilsson laughed. Most of the research group raised their eyebrows.

"A tactician," Newark said wryly. "A very subtle one."

"You have no idea," Nilsson informed him.

"Did she have any military training? At least the theory part?" angled Newark.

"Eh, I was just the castle's bookkeeper; I only know what we paid the tutors, not the details of what they taught," Nilsson admitted. "Knowing King Agnarr, I would think he taught her more than enough to get by in a pinch. Possibly the Admiral or Minister Rogalund can give you a clearer answer."

"Admiral Sverdrup, was it? The man standing over there?" asked Newark.

"Yes, that's the old barnacle," Nilsson said fondly. "I'll introduce you. With luck and some digestifs, we can get him to sing a sea shanty or two and spin yarns about sea monsters and naval battles against Arendelle's imaginary enemies before his wife lugs him out." She began to walk over to the Admiral.

Newark exchanged a bemused look with his companions, shrugged, and followed her. The rest of them decided to play along as well. This was the most peculiar kingdom they had ever heard of.

Author's Notes - Elsa's slice of cake should be hilariously thin, something only possible through the magic of CGI, like half a millimeter thick.

I imagine the look on Elsa's face as she fights her magic to be very much like what she does in the movie as she's trying to leave the ball room during Ann's "Why? Why do you shut me out?" outburst. It really does look like she's physically struggling to hold it in.

The "ridiculously thoughtless staff" will be touched on more later, because they really were the biggest idiots in the movie. At the same time, a lot of people don't have great judgment or show much initiative even nowadays, and in previous centuries, it was worse.

I really loved that Elsa and Anna had "inverse" tragic flaws in the movie: Anna not stopping to think, and Elsa not being able to stop thinking (which then ties in with Elsa's magic being always "on" by default). It might have taken 'em 70 years to get their story, but at least they did get a story that was more intricate than the usual animated fairy tale musical.

Flush toilets did exist back then. Queen Pippilotta is not that Pippilotta, but will have certain strong character traits as I flesh out a little bit of Arendelle's history.

Young Elsa should have been something of a literal home-wrecker. I mean, just look at the mess she made at a mere eight-years-old playing in the ball room. That was a whopping amount of snow, ice, and frost, and if it melted and the water sat for a while, kiss that lovely wooden dance floor good-bye. She likely would have been in a world of trouble, even if the accident hadn't happened.