Helping Aksel in the kitchen becomes a regular affair.
I wouldn't go as far as to say that we have become friends. I would hardly even consider us acquaintances.
He has grown to tolerate my presence in the galley and not much more.
We have been on board the Gerda now for several weeks.
I can tell that we are sailing farther and father North each day by the frigidness of the wind. The farther North we travel, the more relentlessly cold the air becomes.
Today the sky is drizzling its discontent upon us.
I opt to stay indoors.
How I would love to break out of this dark, stuffy room and into the freeness of the upper deck, but it is just too cold for me today.
Alternatively, I lounge on my bed, sprawled out quite unladylike, though not quite particularly caring.
The frost has overtaken most of my arms now, not quite reaching my shoulders. It has also come up to my ankles. Walking is becoming a bit of a nuisance.
I allow my mind to wander back to Arendelle.
I do hope my sister is handling everything all right.
Taking care of a kingdom is hard work, especially when it has been obliterated into scorched remains.
The downcast hearts of the people can be the hardest thing to manage of all.
Anna has her buoyant spirit on her side.
She most likely has the kingdom singing and dancing by now.
My heart is heavy that I cannot be with her to experience it.
I should like to at least have one glance at the product of the reconstruction of Arendelle, just to know that it did indeed rise back to it's former glory.
Will I ever set eyes upon my homeland again?
My heart wills it to be so. The frosted ache in my arms dissuades my heart.
I pull my thoughts away from this melancholy path.
I sing quietly to myself, my voice comes out hardly even audible.
I find the words to my song to be comforting, as they make me feel as though I am safe and warm, back in Arendelle where the song originated.
A thud comes at my door.
I already know it is Hemmin, coming to labor over her mending.
"Come in."
She does. In one swift movement, she flings open the door, shuts it firmly, and drops into her usual seat at my table.
She glances at me. "Are you ill?"
"I'm alright." I manage a weak smile.
She shrugs and proceeds to work on her mending.
It remains silent in the room for several moments, so I decide to start speaking. I usually have to get Hemmin warmed up before she will tell her stories.
"I miss Anna immensely." I sigh. "I hope she doesn't become too serious while running the kingdom. I wouldn't want her to change too much and be more dull like me."
"Change is inevitable." Comes Hemmin's straightforward response. "My Ma always said that change is a good thing, as long as you don't lose yourself along the way."
I ponder this.
"She had this song she would always sing to me. Do you wish to hear it?"
I nod eagerly.
"Change as Fate wills
Change as should be
Remain yourself still
As you reach destiny
If you find yourself altered
If you find that you lost
You stumbled and faltered
The wrong change you crossed
Remember who you are
Who you know you should be
You never are too far
To come back to me
You can revise and reform
You may rearrange
Until you transform
Back to your true self be changed."
Her voice is weak and flat, she sings it in a very straightforward manner. It is very much how I would have imagined Hemmin would sing.
"That's a beautiful song, Hemmin." I tell her once she has finished.
Hemmin shrugs. She continues on with her mending.
"If you don't mind me asking..." I say slowly. "What happened to your mother?"
"She died." I can't imagine how an individual can possibly be so emotionless. "She was aboard the Kaia alongside your parents. She was tending to your mother."
My heart feels much compassion.
"Do you know what they say about the Gerda?" She asks suddenly.
I will her to go on.
"They say that she is the sister ship of the Kaia." Each word drops from her mouth with a thunk. "This means that they were both made from wood of the same forest. It was said to have been an enchanted forest.
"The Gerda has been heartbroken ever since her sister was pulled down into the depths of the ocean. Sometimes, I can hear her crying late at night, her boards moaning in agony. She wishes to be with her sister again one day."
"Do you actually hear the ship?" I question, doubtful.
"Of course." She answers indignantly. "The Gerda wants to be with the Kaia again."
She doesn't say it aloud, but I hear what she doesn't say as if it were actually spoken. "I want to be with my Ma again."