Chapter 3: Meeting part 1

Elsa

Ugh, what a nuisance.

How does one prepare themselves to lead a nation? Didn't anyone ever had doubts, about what they were stepping into, the sheer weight of responsibility? I'm sure Pa had jitters as he was donning the purple for the very first time at his coronation, and yet there he was, at least in the portrait, standing tall, stoic and inscrutable. Not even Ma knew him the way I did.

Well, that's not exactly right.

No one understood him the way I did. I guess the heir apparent would be close to the king. I felt as if I was intruding when he talked to me about personal things when he was alone with me; should I be hearing this? But I humoured him regardless. Pa had many fears, and I felt a tiny twinge of satisfaction that he was able to talk to me. This was before I saw the manacles.

I'm not proud to say that when I saw those ugly iron chains, I made up my mind to resent my parents for that. I know I didn't have much hope, but they weren't willing to give me a chance. Did they see me as nothing more than a beast? If they weren't willing to try, I wasn't going to either.

Fuck them.

Not that I ever expressed it out loud of course. My resentment was yet another assurance of my weakness and lack of control; how I kept lying to myself about things becoming better. They didn't change for shit; I just made my peace with them.

Hmm, looking back now though...

It was clear to see where Ma came from; Maternal instinct is powerful, and it is deceptively easy to understand. In the end, she just didn't want to see me and Anna destroyed. Fathers are a different story.

In the past one year, leading to the coronation due next week, I saw a major part of what Pa dealt with every moment of his reign. We had plenty of enemies and very few friends. Pa had his hands full with problems domestic and foreign. Protecting his people from the horrors of the early years of the long 19th century, and years later, protecting the people from me and vice versa. The fact that he didn't bend on a crutch to cope with the stress, always treated me with kindness and never showed his deepest fears was amazing. How was he so in control? He must have known that I had found out about the restraints, yet he never prodded the question with me, it was painful for both of us.

Mothers are easy to understand, no wonder there are so many poems and stories about a mother's love for her kids. Fathers though? One could understand a father only after they die. When one gets a full picture of the man, his virtues, faults, desires and sacrifices.

What he was willing to lie for, to die for.

If I ever get to have the possibility to have kids, seriously though, the moon would break apart before that could possibly happen, but on the off chance that it does, I would try to raise them the way I saw Pa. I guess I just miss the old guy.

Hans kind of reminds me of him.

After he saw me through the bleakest moment in my life, his letters became more frequent. I guess he was scared for me. I appreciated it though. However, what truly changed things was when he began writing first instead of me. I guess life at sea gave him time for pining thoughts.

What am I, a prose writer now? Haha.

I guess having frivolous thoughts is an improvement from depressing ones, maybe there's hope for me after all. If only I could address Anna the same way without fear.

One day maybe.

I wonder what Hans looks like now, seafaring must have made him a beefcake. I hope he looks less polished than the official painting I saw of him, can't imaging a salty seadog like him having porcelain skin. Maybe I'll tell him about my powers, or maybe not? Whatever happens, I'm looking forward to meeting the dork.

This is what he wrote to me recently:

Hey Elsie,

I love the fall weather, the perfect time for me to relax, not too hot and humid like Summer, not too cold and bleak like winter. I could do without the biscuits tasting like sandpaper. I understand we need to preserve them in shit, but does it have to taste like shit? It's an insult to feed it even to pigs.

The shanties are fun, although I'm not sending you anymore of them. I don't want to have our letters peppered with that salty language. You're supposed to lead a nation lady, I don't think they want to see you speaking like, the lowest language of the street. Haha! Although it makes me laugh thinking about you saying stuff like that out loud, not going to lie. Hey, I want you to address me in that special expression I mentioned in my previous letter.

I'll be there for your coronation soon!

Gotta go, another on deck 'duel' to judge.

Till next time,

Hans.

Hans

It's been three days since I sent her the letter. I was so busy to talk about anything substantial. My stupid rump forgot to tell her that I got a promotion to Admiral. Call it nepotism or dumb luck, but I earned what I got dammit. Well, this kind of news is always taken better when given in person huh?

My old man didn't get it from me personally, but they tell me he was very happy, saying 'He's finally made something of himself'. Well, I have a bitter revelation for him; I didn't do it for him.

They're saying he's grown kinder in his old age, I bet two forbidden jewels it's not his altruistic sense. He's scared now, towards the twilight of his life. Scared and terrified that this is the bunch of runts he's leaving everything to. Trying to salvage the bits and pieces of his bond with us. Trying to make up for lost time eh? Well, all I can say to him is, hang in there you old bastard, you can still accomplish some heinous task or mission so that we can nail you out of our lives forever.

They're saddened by the possibility of him passing away soon, in his bed, surrounded by opulence? Please. I knew much better people who met much worse ends.

I guess you people understand I'm not overly fond of him.

Who am I fond of?

My extended brood of siblings? Hell no, at best I can tolerate them, I may share a drink with them sometime, but care for them? No shortage of drunkards around me, takes only two for company, and that's all I need.

The princess of destiny? Maybe.

I certainly get excited when I see her letters. They've grown shorter now, understandable as she's now taking the reigns for her country, but they are regular, thankfully.

I wonder what she looks like now? Is she still tiny like one of those Russian dolls? I imagine she's somehow grown even whiter now. Her letters have become snarkier and more entertaining. Like she is at ease while writing them, free to be rude and everything.

I got her latest letter, read it and smiled; oh this is going to be GOOD.

Hey Hansy,

Why the hell are our nicknames longer than our actual names? Anyway, I got your letter, and yes I will address you as 'fucking dried bland squid', I promise.

Just come here already, I'm dying in anticipation.

P.S: I think they kicked those biscuits around for a couple of years before you got to eat them.

Till next time,

Elsa

Ahhhhhhhh, this has been a bitch of a year.

But I'm thankful I got to write again.

I hope the next chapter comes a lot sooner.

Stay safe everyone!