Through the Storm
-ooo-
Foreword.
Inevitable.
The Queen knew it. Most of the Council had already left, leaving the young monarch free to retire to her study. Over the great wooden desk, the little tokens on the map – representing her own forces – were dreadfully outnumbered, many of them close to being surrounded by Faraxian or Coronians, the two major military forces of the Eastern Coalition.
If the Council – at least, what remained of it – was accurate, a siege of her Capital was imminent.
Anna slammed her fist against the table, tumbling some of the tiny pieces on its surface.
Why? She couldn't help but ask. Ever since Elsa's disappearance, she had been lost, trying to grasp and pull back together her ever declining reign.
She sat on the ample seat behind the desk, once his father's seat. Once her sister's too, before the Northuldra, Ahtohallan, before she abdicated the throne. She had been happy for her. She really had been.
That had been before this. Before that damned man, King Falax. The Usurper. Before the war with the Coalition.
She slumped into her seat, sighing as she looked into the study's windows, from where she could see some of Arendelle's lights. The fierce autumn winds could not rattle the windows, but she could hear their soft whispers on the quiet night. It had been almost half a year since Gale had stopped coming. Yet, she still hoped for the spirit to appear, for it would mean Elsa had come back.
But nothing happened. Not even the Northuldrans knew where she was.
She began to doze off. Even if sleep often eluded her now, soon she felt herself slip into a deep slumber; her last thoughts – even as her kingdom slowly crumbled around her – were on Elsa. Always on her.
-ooo-
First Act
Chapter I
Clouds on the horizon
Anna giggled as they sneaked out into the obscure hallways. She knew Elsa disapproved, but she still followed her, as she always did. They had celebrated Elsa's seventeenth birthday the day before, but Anna had yet another present for her sister. She had kept it a secret, even from their parents. They entered the library – the whole room submerged in deep shadows – and she felt Elsa linger behind, the grasp on her hand stiffened.
"Anna?" Elsa whispered. "What are we doing in the library?" Anna never understood how Elsa could be afraid of, well, anything, when she was the one with all-powerful ice powers. Even if her sister did not speak of it, she knew Elsa's powers grew with each passing year: she had seen some of her creations – when they could be alone – and they were becoming more and more sophisticated, more detailed, almost bursting with life.
"Shush," was all she answered as she guided them both in between rows of tall, obscured shelfs.
They arrived at the feet of one of the library's enormous paintings, which portrayed one of their ancestors, a proud-looking king, bearded, clad in the same uniform her own father used on formal occasions.
"Uh…" Elsa muttered, looking at Anna as if she had suddenly lost her wits. Anna rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless.
"Here," she said before crouching below the painting, palpating around the tapestry. Her sister knelt at her side, looking puzzled at her actions. Anna finally found the crack she had been searching, and grabbed the edge, pulling forcibly. The hatch opened with barely a sound. Elsa's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Anna smirked before entering the black hole, calling the blonde to follow her.
The tunnel was short, and soon Anna was blindly looking for the lamp she had left in there. Once she found it, she took the box of matches from her nightdress and lit the lamp.
Elsa followed close behind, looking around as she stood up, dusting off her nightgown.
"Anna, what is… this…?" Elsa fell silent, her blue eyes – bright even on the dim light – roaming the chamber. It was a tiny room, completely empty when Anna had found it in one of her explorations some months ago.
Since then, she had managed to get some things in there: some tiny chairs, a little wooden table. A pottery set was stashed in one of the corners, the others filled with books – the ones Anna knew Elsa enjoyed the most. The hard stone floor was mostly covered with a red carpet the redhead had smuggled out of one of the guest rooms.
Elsa looked over her younger sister, half-awed and half-curious.
"It's yours," Anna answered simply. "If you need to be alone, or practice your magic, you can come here. Only us will know." She smiled widely before her older sister pulled her into a warm embrace. She felt Elsa bury her nose on her hair. She relaxed into the hug, clasping her hands together over Elsa's low back.
After their parents' death, none of the castle's staff had managed to find Elsa for hours on end, but Anna had, inside the tiny room. She found her sitting against the grey stonewall, hugging her knees, her beautiful platinum hair falling around her face, a thin layer of frost covering most of the walls.
-ooo-
Before, her citizens had cheered at her sight. Now they looked up and nodded, respectfully, but almost no one met her eyes. They passed her sullenly, not bothering to stop their daily commutes. Queen Anna the First held her head high and tried to smile every once in a while, even if it pained her to do so, for now each smile felt like a lie. She tried to appear strong, to reassure her people that everything would be all right.
Another lie.
She could feel it in the Capital's air, in the lack of songs and laughter, slipping away: her people's hope. She could see it, too, in the streets, more filled each day with refugees and beggars, many cramped on alleyways, others sitting on porches or right on the street's corners. Some had the courage to approach her, asking for petty coins, but her Royal Guard kept them at a distance. Each time she endured the same pang of guilt, a sudden, enraging helplessness she hated to her bones. She wanted to help them all, but knew by now she could not.
As she rode through the main street, heading towards the castle's gates, she saw many of her subjects helping the long streaks of townspeople who cramped the streets, offering what little they could spare: a piece of bread, a cup of water. She smiled at them, genuinely this time. She herself had ordered her own staff to be sparse with the meals, to do only with the essentials. Everything else they received through the fjord she gave to the refugee camps outside the city walls.
In the castle's courtyard stood Kai, as always, waiting for her. She dismounted in one swift motion, giving her horse to one of the pages.
"Your Majesty," said her steward, "Lord Ettan and Lady Talya arrived an hour ago. The Council awaits."
"Thanks Kai." Answered the Queen. For once, she was glad to meet with them: the news from the south were usually few and, most of the time, very troublesome. She would be relieved to hear from the governor personally. Before she entered the castle, she threw Kai a significant look, but the man shook his head very slightly, just enough for her alone to see the gesture.
Another day without news from Matthias. Or Elsa. And like every other day without her, she felt a crushing weight fall on top of her, settling heavily in her gut and chest. She took a couple of minutes to gather her strength before going onto the Council meeting.
It was getting harder, day after day.
-ooo-
The Council Room, or War Room, as it was officially called in times like this, was perhaps the finest in the castle, aside from the Royal quarters. A long table at its center, with her throne on its head and a dozen chairs on its sides, some already occupied by the Council members. Above the royal seat hung the Royal Coat of Arms – the Arendelle lily, crisscrossed by a pair of halberds –, and the whole room was covered in rich tapestry that alternated between violet and soft green.
She took her seat, gesturing the others to do likewise after they rose to meet her. The chairs more close to her right and her left were empty, as a sign of respect for the fallen councilors.
"Lord Ettan, Lady Talya. Thanks for making the trip north. It is very much appreciated." Anna greeted them. The Lord of Orendelle dipped his head, acknowledging the royal greeting, as did his wife. They made a funny looking couple: him, a round-bellied man, with a thick moustache and balding head, and her, a lean, tall woman, with very long, black hair and pale skin.
"Let's begin." Anna commanded, glancing across the room. "General Dunarr. As you please."
The War Master – a tall, portly man, squared-jawed and clad in his martial uniform – nodded, gesturing towards the map on the center of the table.
"So far, King Falax's forces have consolidated their positions around us. The center holds, aside from the provinces outside the mountain ranges. The north is where the pressure is mounting. The Hanians have begun to arrive, in greater numbers than anticipated. The works on the battlements across the northern cities have been mostly finished," the man continued, pointing towards several places on the map, "but we are short on men and supplies."
To his right, Lord Jarwood, governor of the North provinces, nodded in agreement. Anna recognized the gesture, and knew that soon after Dunarr's report, the haggle for the supplies would begin. After all, that was the reason Lord Ettan and his wife had come all the way to the Capital.
After the War Master finished, Lord Grenn, governor of the central provinces, gave his report. He was the oldest of the Councilman – the one Anna trusted the most, a loyal friend of her father –, with a salt and pepper beard that was almost all grey at this point.
"The situation is stable, your Majesty, for the most part. It seems the Usurper's men have many troubles finding their way into the mountains, and our men easily outmaneuver them. We can hold them for now, I'm afraid is only a matter of time before their superior numbers begin to overwhelm us."
It's always about time, Anna thought. Of all the resources she had at her disposal, time seemed the scarcest.
"Aside from that, I can confirm Dunarr's report. King Falax is gathering his numbers, but it seems very unlikely he will wait past the winter before he attacks."
"What of Corona?" Began Lord Jarwood. "Can we trust this Flynn fellow to manage? It seems an awful lot to gamble on one young man."
Anna raised a hand, interceding for the first time. "I trust my cousin's judgement. And so should you. She is a part of the Royal family."
"Of course, your Grace," replied Lord Jarwood coolly. A brief moment of silence followed before Lord Grenn meant to take the word again.
Across the table rang a fake-sounding cough. All heads turned towards Lord Ettan. To his right, his wife had at least the decency to look mildly embarrassed.
"Your Majesty," he started, looking directly towards Anna. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I think the south is of greater concern at the moment."
Many of the councilmen – in fact, all of them, except for Lady Varin, who sat silently at the end of the table – raised their eyebrows before turning to look at the Queen. No one on the room was used to interruptions of that manner.
"Yes, Lord Ettan?" The Queen said.
The man paused a little before talking, as if gathering his thoughts. "Your Grace, I'm afraid." He stated bluntly.
"While most of the other provinces appear to be ready, ours is dreadfully lacking support. Our borders are wide and open, and we have heard troubling talk. It seems that King Falax and his puppet has managed to gather most of the Coronian army. We hoped the guerrilla warfare of this Flynn lad would cripple them, but Falax's methods seem rather efficient. I came all the way here," he paused again for effect before continuing, "so your Majesty could heed our needs. We need an army down there, a true one, not the militia I have barely managed to form."
Anna resisted the urge to sigh. Even after all these months, these gatherings always managed to drain her. She knew they were necessary, but having to deal with many of the Lord's egos in times like those felt an unnecessary burden, even if sometimes they did have a point.
The governor sat upright, waiting for Anna response.
Elsa had never liked the man, and she knew her sister a good judge of character. Many times she had heard troubling rumors from the southern provinces, but the man's loyalty had remained strong. Yet, she didn't trust him. Something about how he moved and talked: he held a sort of disturbing overconfidence. He reminded her of King Falax, in a way; perhaps that was the reason she felt so distrustful of him.
She eyed her War Master before speaking. They had discussed that very point a few days ago, and she knew the General hadn't been happy with her decision. Lord Grenn, siting opposite to Lord Ettan, subtly nodded his encouragement, for which she was grateful.
"I know that very well, Lord Ettan. Your governance will be supplied with a considerable amount of my reserves, as well as a company of my cavalry. As for Corona, I have every confidence that Flynn, the true King Regent of Corona, will be able to deliver. As I said earlier, I trust my family's judgement. I believe this arrangement will be enough." She finished, glancing to her governor.
The man nodded, and Anna was about to order the resuming of the reports when he spoke again.
"What about the refugees, your Majesty?" Lord Ettan asked.
"What about them?" Anna said, her brows furrowing.
"Well," he hesitated for just an instant, "there have been more coming, by the hundreds. Many have managed to reach the Capital, as I have seen today. I was wondering, when will be given the order to close the borders?"
Lord Jarwood looked at Anna. She knew the man shared that particular point of view with the southern governor.
Anna hardened her gaze.
"I have been clear with the issue. You're free to close your walls and gates to the enemy. But the Coronian civilians, and our own, are not the enemy. We will not leave them behind. We will take them in, for as long as we can, as many as we can. I will not allow them to be left to be taken into labor camps, or who knows what other atrocities Falax does with the prisoners."
She didn't raise her voice, but she let some contempt slip into her words. "You have all heard how he treats his own subjects. What will he do to those he considers his enemies?"
"Yes, your Majesty, of course, but there are other considerations as well. What about the food, or places for them to stay? We barely have enough for our own." Lord Jarwood interjected.
"So we just leave them to rot, Jarwood?" replied Lord Green in his thick, robust voice. "Is that what you're suggesting?"
"We have to be pragmatic, Philius! With all due respect, I have been voicing the same concern from weeks ago. If a siege becomes a reality, it would be ill-advised to keep all that people here. And I'm not even talking of those who haven't arrived."
Lord Jarwood glanced away from Lord Grenn and locked gazes with the Queen. "Your Majesty, I know you mean well. But our granaries will soon be empty if we don't cut those people out."
"The granaries from the Capital, you mean? The ones that keep your people fed, as well?" Lord Grenn carried on, making the other man refocus his attention on him. "Why do you think you're more deserving of those supplies than them?"
General Dunarr raised his voice as well, seconding Lord Jarwood, and the discussion began to heat. Anna sat on her throne, looking at them, keeping her expression calm.
Before, she had troubles heading these meetings, fumbling her way around the Lords and Ladies' wishes and whims. Now she knew, after months of tensions and disagreements between the Council, that only her authority – the Royal authority – could keep them from tearing each other apart. Those men and women were civil and agreeable most of the time, but the grim, looming prospect of the kingdom's fall had soured them. She couldn't blame them.
"Gentlemen," the Queen began, raising her right hand to stop the quelling. The man stopped almost immediately, their attention coming back to the throne. "I have heard you. Truly. Every one of you has a point. All the people in this room knows our situation is difficult. I see it every day as I ride across the city."
She glanced through every one, like daring them to interrupt her. It was something she had learned from seeing Elsa in similar – if not quite as dire – situations.
"I will take into consideration your points, and tomorrow at the latest you will have my decision concerning the rest of the resupplies. As for the refugees, my decision stands. We will take them for as long as we can. I will not close the doors of my city, or any other, until it's an absolute necessity." She put some extra weight onto the last statement. There was some defiance in Lord Ettan eyes, but he was not foolish enough to challenge her, directly at least.
Anna knew the point would surface again, and she knew she could not stand behind it for very long. But it was the right thing to do. With the discussion on the matter stifled, the meeting went on, covering the details of the troops deployments and the plans to stop the northern incursions.
By the end of the meeting, she had to agree – by Jarwood and Dunarr insistence – on sending the freshly recruited man to the north, to be trained in Lirendelle. The two men bowed before leaving the room, talking low to one another. Lord Grenn smiled at her before taking his leave, followed by the silent Lady Varin. The rest of the council members left the room, but Lady Talya stayed, even as her husband left the grand room.
"Your Majesty," the woman said, her soft-spoken voice resonating clearly on the imposing silence of the chamber. "A moment of your time."
"Yes?" Anna replied, signaling the lady to approach.
"A… mutual friend of ours brought this to me." The pale noblewoman said, handing her a piece of parchment she took from a pocket on her plain dress. When Anna took it, she saw a distinctive sign on it: a drawn eagle, with its wings spread out. The symbol of the Flynn Rebels.
She frowned, looking inquisitively at the woman.
"A young fellow arrived at our estate just before we departed. He said to give it to you only. I assumed he didn't want my husband to know of this." Lady Talya answered, looking somewhat ashamed.
Am I right? Anna wondered, recalling her earlier suspicions about Lord Ettan. If not, why would Flynn go through the trouble of eluding the man?
"Thank you," she said, quelling her misgivings for the time being. She could not give in to paranoia, not without having only a hunch to go on. The lady – a head taller than Anna herself – curtsied and left the room gracefully.
The Queen stood on the empty room for a few moments, rolling the piece of parchment in between her fingers, wondering about the choices of the day, hoping they had been correct. Hoping they could make a difference.
At least Punzies would be happy.
-ooo-
After finishing some of the paperwork Kai had landed on her desk, she made her way to the library. Even in complete darkness – with the chamber's drapes drawn – she moved with ease inside the library. For her, walking on the castle's shadows was almost like a second nature. She knew the twists and turns of the hallways, and where each one led. She walked through the middle of the room, dodging tables and the shelfs in order to avoid a certain wall, with a certain portrait.
She hadn't been to their secret room since Elsa left. It didn't feel right. It held too many memories, too painful for her to withstand.
There was a tiny circle of light in one of the library corners, where a young woman sat, reading at the light of a candle-tree.
The blonde looked up after hearing her footsteps, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Anna knew Rapunzel's story, and found it a little bit ironic that her cousin had decided to dye her hair a bright blonde, even if she kept it short. Since her exile began, she rarely left the library, only leaving occasionally to help in the city's infirmary whenever she could risk the trip down town.
They couldn't risk exposing Rapunzel survival until the right time. The Coronian nobility had betrayed her once already, and so, she kept to Arendelle's castle undercover, with her presence only known to a select few.
"How did it go?" Her cousin asked, closing the book she had been reading.
Anna's response was a mild grimace.
"That bad?" Rapunzel laughed quietly, tapping the seat next to her. Her voice echoed ghastly on the room.
"Lord Jarwood is not letting the issue go. Old Grenn took my side, but it wasn't enough." Anna replied, taking the seat next to the blonde.
"I remember those meetings. I was really glad when Dad called it quits trying to keep me there." Rapunzel said.
"Well, not everyone had that luxury, Punzie." Anna remarked.
Rapunzel glanced at her. "You're doing a really good job, all things considered." She remarked.
The Queen sighed, pushing with her feet against the floor, leaning back on the chair's rear legs. "I like to think I am. But I'm not totally convinced, if I'm being honest."
Her cousin nodded thoughtfully.
Anna reached into her pocket and handed over the parchment from Lady Talya to her cousin. The blonde's grin grew tenfold at the sight. She hastily opened the letter and began to read immediately.
Over the last months, she had tried to find at least a single moment during the day to visit her cousin. It helped her deal with everything – the burdens, the doom that loomed over them – just by having her easy-going personality around. And she hoped her own presence kept her from thinking too much about her parent's death. She imagined that must have been a special brand of painful. To reunite with her long lost father and mother just to have them taken away a few years later. It was a loss she understood very well.
"Eugene says it's going well, at least from what we could expect. The rumors about me have been spreading, but the Usurper's control is tighter than he anticipated. He is confident they can rally the townspeople in a couple of months, though." Rapunzel explained.
Anna nodded, but her mood didn't light up. We may not have months, she thought darkly.
"Anything else?" the Queen asked. Rapunzel giggled, making Anna lift an eyebrow.
"Of importance, no. The rest is for me. Sorry." She said, smiling apologetically. Anna found herself returning the smile. Rapunzel's mood was always contagious. It was a shame that trait wasn't as effective as in days past.
In the dim candlelight, she saw her cousin reread the letter, as if she was trying to absorb its every content, committing the words to memory. She had done the same, of course, with her letters.
Inside, Anna could not help but feel a brush of jealousy. Even if hundreds of miles apart, they still had one another. She couldn't help but think of Elsa, somewhere inside Falax's country, chasing after the dark sorceress. The guilt was still there, of the things she had said before her sister's departure. How she wished she could take them back, to find the right words to convince her to stay.
"I know you miss her," Rapunzel uttered, having divined her thoughts.
Anna flushed a little, even if she had no real reason. The blonde gave her a soft glance, shaking her head.
"I sensed it the moment I saw you two together, that day." She said in a careful tone. She knew Elsa was always a touchy subject for the redhead.
Anna did not respond. They sat in silence for many minutes, until the ten-o-clock bells rang. She sighed as she stood up. More work waited for her on the royal study, and she wanted to have at least a couple of hours of sleep before crashing.
"Anna," Rapunzel called her. "She will come back. I know she will."
The redhead smiled weakly before leaving. She returned to her chambers, sending her maids away, and dove into her duties once again, only bothering with some small supper Gerda brought her. As with every night for the last months, she rekindled her faith on Elsa, on the fact that she would come back to her.
A part of her knew she would know. If anything bad happened, she would know. At least, she convinced herself of it.
It was getting harder, day after day.