The Guardian
by Concolor44
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Chapter 5: Life in Interesting Times
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Valley of the Living Rock, 13 May 1841, just before daybreak
"I wouldn't have expected you to be awake this early."
The voice startled Kristoff out of his musing. He stood and turned. "Morning, Pabbie."
The old troll carefully studied the human's face. "Ah. I see. You haven't slept."
"No! I did. I …" Rubbing the back of his neck, Kristoff dropped his gaze. "I … there were … I had some weird dreams."
"Are you quite sure they were dreams?"
A good quarter minute passed before he answered, very softly, "They had to be."
Grandpabbie quickly suppressed a grin. "Indeed, now?"
Scattered images flitted through the young man's mind.
… The troll girl
… The falling boulder
… Bracing for an impact that he knew would crush him to unrecognizable mush
… The feel of the rough stone against his hands
… Detecting the weight for just an instant
… Pushing back and seeing the great stone veer to the side
… Watching in dumb shock as what should have been the instrument of his death simply rolled away down the mountainside
… Picking up the child and running to the other trolls
… Feeling the earthquake subside. Feeling it in his bones
Kristoff nodded decisively. "Dreams. Yeah. Just weird dreams."
The ancient troll had not missed the fact that the earthquake seemed to trigger at the exact moment of the ceremony's climax. He had, therefore, kept a close eye on Kristoff, had noted when the human's fire crystals began to glow, had raised his staff to cast a spell at the speeding boulder, knowing already that he had no time …
His shock hadn't been quite as complete as Kristoff's when the boy caught the massive rock and tossed it aside like a dry stick. Quickly putting this fact together with several visions he'd had lately gave him quite a lot to think about. This could be the answer …
Pabbie patted his arm. "I think Sven will already be awake. You should get started back to Arendelle soon. Your love pines for you."
Kristoff snorted. "Ha. She'll miss me whenever she wakes up. If I leave now, I'll get there before that happens."
Chuckling at his comment, Pabbie could only nod. "You speak truth. Come have some breakfast first."
"Sounds good."
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Arendelle Castle, 15 May 1841, 10:12am
The old man pounded his fist on the polished hardwood. "Weselton has crossed the line!"
"Yes, Sir Orvast, I know," Elsa replied, holding back an exasperated sigh. "We all understand that part. Now tell me what we can do about it."
Admiral Naismith laid a hand on Orvast's shoulder. "Nikolas …"
"No!" He shrugged off the hand. "It wasn't enough that they cheated us for years in trade. Then the slimy little bastard comes here himself and tries to kill our Queen? Then, when she was gracious and merciful enough to simply banish him … now he mounts an undeclared war?"
"Perhaps," she suggested, "if we offered to renegotiate the trade-"
"Drivel. No, he's had his eye on Arendelle for half his worthless life." Sir Orvast was standing now, and pacing. "Stinking blackguard. I'd trade my life for a chance to wring his scrawny neck."
Mikael exchanged a quick glance with Doran Larson, the new Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the youngest man on the Council at thirty-two. Doran gave his head an almost imperceptible shake, and Mikael suppressed a grimace. No more news out of Weselton in the last week. That probably means our spies have been discovered. He cleared his throat. "The Southern Isles have two warships in the fjord waiting to escort our trade fleet out of the danger zone. That will alleviate one of the short-term problems. Weselton may be a snake, but he's not stupid. King Gregor could mount a successful response, and besides, he has a lot of allies."
"So do we!"
Doran stated, "Sir Orvast … we have trading partners. We have non-aggression treaties – though unfortunately not with Weselton – but the only nations we can count as military allies at this moment are Sweden, Ireland, and most recently the Southern Isles. France might sign on. We're working on it. But I'm sure none of them would wish to go to war with Weselton, for reasons both military and economic." He flicked a quick glance Elsa's way, fighting down a blush. "Ireland's ambassador, who is quite the pugilist as I'm sure you all know, has wondered aloud whether our Queen shouldn't take a hand in the conflict personally." At Elsa's sudden panicked expression, he quickly added, "I told him that was not possible due to a number of circumstances. I will probably have to repeat myself on that topic several times."
Anna, who sat to Elsa's right, caught every nuance of Doran's interaction with the Queen, and smiled to herself. She'd suspected for weeks that he harbored feelings of more than just loyalty for Elsa. That, she considered silently, might just need a little encouragement.
A soft knock on the door preceded one of the Guard stepping in. "Begging your grace, this just came for the Admiral." He held up a sealed letter, and Mikael motioned him in. The man handed it over, bowed and left. Mikael tore it open and scanned it, his face growing dark.
Elsa said, "It must be important, or the messenger wouldn't have interrupted our meeting."
"Our patrol on the northern border with Norway encountered another group of brigands yesterday; a large party, some thirty men, and all carrying Weselton's silver."
There was murmuring around the table. Elsa's raised eyebrow suggested he continue.
"The brigands were killed but for three captured … but not before they had burned a farm and killed the family there."
Anna reached for her sister's hand and gripped it. Elsa felt faint. Her father and grandfather had skillfully steered Arendelle around all the wars in the last half-century … and she had caused one within days of her coronation. Dropping her face into her free hand, she muttered, "Maybe I should just abdicate. Take away his reason for-"
"No!" This shout came simultaneously from better than half her Council, and the rest were shaking their heads. Doran said, "He is merely using that as an excuse. He found that he couldn't simply intimidate you into giving him what he wants. Losing eight ships drove that point home. So he's been more subtle."
"You call killing families and burning farms subtle!?"
He made soothing motions. "No. But it is more subtle than a direct declaration of war. I believe that he is now committed to taking over Arendelle, and he'll do it by way of economics, through Suits for Peace or some other treaty-based means. He intends to wear us down."
Anna said, "We should just ask him."
The rest of them craned their heads around at her. Doran asked, "Meaning?"
"Well … he's been pick-pick-picking at us, but doing it on the sly. We can't prove anything. Well, not much, and nothing in recent months. Yeah, the mercenaries look like Weselton hired them, but they aren't real-live-actual Weselton troops, and the Duke could simply deny it. His word against theirs. My point is that it feels more like he's trying to back us into a corner so he can make his demands when we're not in a position to do anything about it." She gestured at Mikael. "You've got spies there, right?"
"… Possibly."
"But you said-"
"I had some spies there, but they went silent days ago."
"… Oh. So, they might've been found out?"
"Probably."
"Wouldn't the Duke have said something?"
"That's one point we haven't figured out yet. If he caught our spies, he should be declaring so, to gain support for his 'cause', such as it is. But he hasn't."
"So we still don't know what he wants. That's why we ought to ask."
Mikael sat back, stroking his goatee in thought. "A diplomatic delegation."
Elsa gave her sister a look of approval. "It certainly couldn't hurt."
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7:45pm
Setting her glass of wine down, Anna insisted, "All I'm saying is, the more you practice, the better your control is going to be."
"I do practice! Don't I put out a skating rink every Saturday?"
"Yep. You sure do. And you're really good at it. It gets more gorgeous every week." Anna leaned forward and poked the air with her fork. "And the second time you made icebergs … wasn't it easier? They came up right where you wanted them to, right?"
"… Can we not talk about that?"
"Oh, for … Elsa. Look. Let's say that, oh, that your powers wouldn't reach that far."
"But I covered the whole-"
"Tsut-tsut-tsut! Just for the sake of argument, okay? Just pretend that you can only make ice out to maybe five hundred paces."
"Very well. So what?"
"Then you wouldn't have been able to stop those ships until they got within cannonade distance of Arendelle. Elsa …" she leaned even closer and took her sister's hand. "… think about all the lives you saved."
"Yes, I know, Anna. Arendelle didn't lose a man. That's not the point."
"Oh, but it is. What do you think Admiral Naismith would have done if Weselton started bombing Arendelle?"
"He would have fired back, of course."
"Right. He would. Now, tell me," she went on, giving Elsa's hand a squeeze, "How many of Weselton's sailors would have died in that battle?"
Her blue eyes growing wide, Elsa took a breath to speak, but stopped herself. She tried coming at the question from a couple of other directions, but it all came back down to one thing. She slumped a little. "A lot of them."
"Correct. And how many actually did die?"
"… Two."
"And that's most likely because Weselton – as you know because you were there the same time I was when Mikky was talking about it – doesn't teach its sailors to swim. A lot of them can't swim. And whose fault is that? Yours?"
"… No."
"Right again. So, let's recap." She ticked off the points on her fingers. "Weselton started the fight. Weselton sent their warships here. Weselton used sailors who can't swim. Weselton didn't equip their ships with lifeboats or life buoys. Did I miss anything?"
Elsa was thinking hard.
"Now, the real question is: How many lives did you save among Weselton's fleet? If you figure it takes somewhere between four and six hundred men to run one, and add in the fact that our gunners are really good … you might have saved the lives of a thousand men by keeping the battle from happening in the first place." She sat back with a satisfied smile. "I think their families would likely bless you for that. I already know all of Arendelle does."
The Queen threw up her hands. "All right. You got me. It was the right thing to do, and I'm sorry those two boys died, but you're right. Okay? Allowing the ships in close would have been a thousand times worse."
"And why did that battle not take place?"
"Because … because I … stopped it."
Anna pushed her chair back and rose, came around the table, and knelt beside Elsa, pulling her into a hug. "You are a wonderful, sweet, kind, loving, beautiful person. I am not going to allow you to believe the lie that you aren't, especially if you are the one lying."
Elsa sniffled a few times, wrapping them closer. "Don't know what I ever did to deserve-"
"Hush. That's my line."
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Weselton, the Ducal Manor, 18 May 1841, 11:50pm
The original, westernmost section having been built back when sally-doors weren't optional, there were quite a few dank, dark, secret spots where few went and fewer had any business. It was in one of these that the Duke met with his spy.
"Is that precisely how you overheard it?"
"Aye, Your Grace, 'at's just 'ow she said it. She's no mind to be a war machine, an' she won' be used as such."
"She certainly didn't possess that frame of mind when she sank a third of my battle group."
"It's them two boys, Y' Grace."
The Duke blinked at him. "What boys would those be?"
"Two o' yer sailors. They drownded, so they did, an' washed up on shore. Queen was right tore up about it. Now she's 'fraid t' use 'er magic, 'fraid she'll off summ'n else."
"Truly. That is most interesting news." If the Winter Witch really was hesitant about using her power … yes. That opened up a few new possibilities.
"So is that worth th' coin?"
"What? Oh. Of course." He pulled a small cloth bag from a pocket, weighed it in his palm. "I do have a question, though."
"Aye?"
"Why did you come here yourself, rather than sending a message as you've done thrice before?"
"Uh … as t' that … I was 'fraid they'd made me."
"Really."
"There was some talk. I overheard th' chatelaine goin' on about huntin' down spies in th' castle an' th' village, an' how th' Guard was-"
"So you'll not be going back there?"
"… Don' think it'd be safe, Y' Grace."
"I see. Well. That is … unfortunate." He held out his empty hand. "Thank you for your service. It has been valuable."
Eyeing the bag in the Duke's other hand, he went ahead and shook hands. "Y'r welcome …" A look of shock and horror passed over his face. He tried to jerk his hand away, but before he could, his skin erupted in flames. His agonized scream was quickly cut off as the violent fire consumed him, blackening the near walls with the heat.
The fine ash which was all that was left of the man floated slowly to the floor. Turning and walking back up the stairs, the Duke mumbled, "A pity that. Now I have to find a new spy."
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End Note:
Well. That was ... unsettling. Any thoughts on what just happened?
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