Alan
"So what brings the Prince of Arendelle all the way out here to Nibelheim, My Lord?"
It was a fair question, and Kristoff took his time answering. The wounded had been attended to, and the sun was beginning to set. The entire Queensguard and the surviving villagers were in the inn, which also served as the town tavern, each trying to find out as much as they could from the other before the morn. I'm not sure which one of us knows more, at this point, Alan thought to himself. The Queensguard was dressed in lended clothes, Zack having given their armor to the town smith, a man called Horst that said he'd have it back to their rooms by morning.
He claimed to have invented a new way to treat steel, and he promised them that when they got their armor back, it would have a few upgrades, but he refused to say what. A barman caught his eye, and he had to supress a grin- the tavernkeeper looked rather distraught- rather than sitting in orderly tables and booths the way he was accustomed, villagers and Queensguard alike had just grabbed whatever chair they wanted and put it wherever they pleased.
Baldur had stalled long enough for Leila to pick a seat, then hurried to claim the adjacent, and Silas had wound up next to a gaggle of children, who were amusing themselves by poking and prodding the stone-faced man, trying to get a reaction. So far, they had only succeeded in Silas tightening his jaw and turning away, but Alan was morbidly curious about what Silas would do if they did get to him.
Kristoff sat forward. "Did you notice anything unusual, before the attack? Any people or animals acting strangely? Anything like that?" Zack shook his head.
"Yeah, my horses were acting funny," said a rough voice from the back of the room. Kristoff rose and looked towards the sound.
"Funny?", he asked. "Funny how?"
The farmer- a grizzled old man who looked about a thousand years old- threw his hands up. "I don't know, My Lord. Just funny. Real twitchy-like, like they didn't want to be where they was. They's just acting funny."
"My cats, too," said a young woman who was sitting across from Alan. "My cat's ain't never hurt no one in they whole lives, but today, one of 'em scratched me today, right out of the blue! That musta been just a few minutes before the attack started."
"That's what I thought," said Kristoff. "That's what the ice harvesters told me would happen whenever he is around. The company that attacked you was fleeing Arendelle after capturing Queen Elsa." A gasp went up around the room. "As far as we know, she is still alive. We're here to bring her back." Silence fell in the cramped tavern. "But…. there's more. Has anyone here heard of the Dreamwalker?"
Zack's face darkened. "He exists?"
"So you have heard of him."
"No more than tales, I'm afraid. But what I have heard makes me realize how lucky we are that he did not deign to participate in the battle. We would have been slaughtered like animals." His eyes grew wide. "If the Dreamwalker has Queen Elsa, you have no hope of reaching her alive." He looked around at the rest of the Queensguard. "What are you doing? There is no way you will succeed. You might as well just turn around and head back."
Kristoff rose from his chair, looming over the heads of the gathered townsfolk, standing straight and tall. "We are the Queensguard. We serve the Queen of Arendelle. With our lives if necessary. There is nothing that we cannot accomplish. So you've heard of the Dreamwalker. You know what he can do. But you've also heard of Queen Elsa. She plunged the kingdom into unending winter by accident. Imagine what she could do if she only tried! Her power cannot be matched, not even by the Dreamwalker. For all his power, he is still only a man."
"And Queen Elsa only a woman." Well, Zack's got a point on that one. But Kristoff was shaking his head.
"The Dreamwalker is fallible. When he breaks, his men will break with him. Queen Elsa's will not. I for one will serve the Queen until my dying breath."
"As will I." Anna rose from her chair and went to join her husband.
"And I," said Alan, going to Kristoff's side.
One by one, the rest of the Queensguard rose and stood together in the center of the tavern. Maybe we can actually do this…
Zack was shaking his head, but he couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face. "With all due respect, My Lords, Your Highness, you're all a bunch of fools with a death wish." The smile vanished. "But if there's anything we can do to help, you need only ask."
"Thank you, Zack. As it so happens, I need a message carried to the North Mountain. I have no doubt the Queensguard can handle what needs to be done-" he smirked "- but some extra muscle can't hurt. Here's what I need…"
The next morning, Alan woke refreshed. The sun had not yet crept over the mountains, and the room was still dark. He rose and dressed in some clothes the townsfolk had lent him, then headed down the stairs to the tavern. Silas was already there, and Alan began to wonder if he even slept at all. The tavern was empty save for the two of them. He crossed the room and sat down opposite Silas, helping himself to some bread that had been left out from the night before. Silas said nothing, but nodded at his new tablemate.
"So," said Alan. "What do you think of Kristoff's plan?"
Silas said nothing at first, but just continued to chew. "It shows promise," he muttered, when it became apparent Alan would wait for him as long as necessary to speak.
"I think it was quite the stroke of genius- I'd never thought of it that way. Think it will work?"
"It does not matter."
"If it'll work?"
"What I think. It will work, or it will not."
No matter what Alan said, he couldn't get Silas to utter another peep. Man, he really does NOT like to talk.