Chapter 4: Many Meetings, Part 1
It surprised Elsa not one bit that Chancellor Tennfjord took the first slot that Elsa had left open for meetings with her councilors. As Chancellor, it was practically her right. As Master Moller's former superior, it was practically inevitable.
All the same, knowing that it was inevitable did not actually make it easier for Elsa to start the conversation. She did her best to stall with a polite greeting and an offer of refreshment, the first of which Chancellor Tennfjord returned and the second she refused. So now Elsa was trying to keep a serene smile in place while Chancellor Tennfjord was only the width of a desk away, wondering what on earth to say next.
Chancellor Tennfjord was watching her, her brows knit and faintly frowning. "Your Majesty … I am trying to think of how best to put this … are you quite sure that this is a course of action you wish to commit to?"
Elsa tilted her head. "I beg your pardon, Chancellor?"
"You've shown your hand quite plainly," she replied. "Threatening to dismiss any Councilor who disagreed …"
Elsa barely held back a wince. "That isn't … quite my intention. I only—it's a last resort, you see."
"Meaning you would only dismiss enough Councilors to get your desired vote?" Chancellor Tennfjord asked.
Elsa nodded.
"I see." The Chancellor was nodding to herself, her fingernails faintly tapping against the desk. "Still, Your Majesty – what you're doing is politically risky."
Elsa swallowed. "I know."
"You've worked very hard to not … overstep your authority, let us say. You work for consensus, you take advice, and it is very rare that you exercise your veto power or overtly push a particular policy. Yet here—Your Majesty, you have left your Council with very little choice other than to approve this match. Of course, we could test you … but if enough of us did it, it might cause a crisis, especially if you followed through on your threat to dismiss us all."
"Not all," Elsa replied. She forced something like a smile. "Madam Voll, Lady Sylvi, Treasurer Akselsen, and Bishop Elias are safe enough."
Chancellor Tennfjord chuckled. "True. All the same … Your Majesty, this could cause a scandal."
Elsa swallowed and tilted her chin up. "Let it."
"There will be plenty who question whether Princess Anna's marriage to a man of no known antecedents, whose current position seems to be entirely owing to their relationship, is a good thing for the realm. And," she rolled her eyes, "I guarantee that everyone will be watching the Princess's waistline until the wedding, and everyone will be counting the months between the wedding and the birth of her first child."
For a moment Elsa was confused – and then comprehension dawned. "Oh Frigg!" she gasped.
"That isn't …?" Chancellor Tennfjord let the sentence dangle.
"No! No, of course—" Elsa hesitated, was it really of course? Elsa worked very hard to be able to claim ignorance of some things. But all the same … she'd turn Kristoff into an icicle if he tried. She was pretty sure he knew that.
Yes, but is that really the sort of reasoning that will work on Anna?
Elsa coughed, forcing her mind back onto the proper track. "That is to say—certainly not. They're—they're getting married now because … because they love each other."
And if there was any justice in the world, that would be all that it was necessary to say.
But there wasn't. Chancellor Tennfjord leaned closer. "Are you sure that's enough, Your Majesty? Are you willing to bring that reason to the people when they ask why Princess Anna was not married off to create an alliance?"
"Yes," Elsa replied.
"Do you expect it to be convincing?" she pressed.
Elsa thought about that. "There—I have not found a single compelling reason why the realm is in such dire straits that Anna's happiness must be sacrificed for it. She's already sacrificed more than enough of her happiness – her childhood – for the good of … well, not the realm, not exactly, but it was still sacrificed. And she …"
Elsa had to close her eyes, had to take deep breaths, because even so many months later, when she thought of this the ice still rose up inside her and the wailing fear threatened to drown out every other thought. "She died. She could have saved herself. She chose to save me instead, save this whole kingdom from rule by King Hans."
When she opened her eyes, it did not surprise her that there was a faint sheen of ice on the desk beneath her hands. Elsa took a deep breath and remembered that wonderful feeling of hugging Anna for the first time in thirteen years to dispel it. It took a moment. But the ice disappeared.
"And after all of that—the least Anna deserves is to be happy and marry the man she loves. I don't care what I have to do to make it happen, Chancellor. I will dismiss every member of my Council if I must. I will find a way to change the law. I don't—I don't care."
Chancellor Tennfjord did not answer at first. Her steel-gray eyes bored into Elsa's. Elsa tilted her chin and forced herself to meet that gaze second for second.
"The nobility will not be happy," Chancellor Tennfjord warned. "The parts of the commons that align themselves closely with the nobility will not be happy. The rest of the commons … well, they'll probably be happy."
"Anna is the people's princess," Elsa murmured, smiling faintly.
"And Lord Ismester is, or was, one of their own," Chancellor Tennfjord nodded. "Yes, they'll be happy. However, you are aware that there can be no chance of Lord Ismester becoming King?" She narrowed her eyes, fixing Elsa with a stare. "The idea of him someday – gods forbid – becoming Prince Consort will be hard enough for some people to stomach. He can't become King."
Since Kristoff was one of the people who would have a hard time stomaching the idea of Prince Consort Kristoff, Elsa did not argue the point. "It can be put into the marriage articles that Kristoff will not become King, even if Anna becomes Queen. I don't think he'll argue."
Chancellor Tennfjord smiled a small, crooked smile. "He might even thank you."
"He probably will," Elsa agreed.
"And, Your Majesty – you might have to earn back some goodwill. You will certainly find that your own … choices for a match might become rather curtailed. To be quite blunt, Your Majesty, you will not be able to marry an ice harvester. Or any man not from the upper echelons of society."
Elsa shrugged. "I doubt I should have been allowed to marry an ice harvester in any case."
"True. But you are aware that there will be even greater pressure on you to marry, and marry soon?" Again Chancellor Tennfjord's eyes were boring into hers. "There will be very few who actively want the child of an ice harvester to sit on Arendelle's throne."
… Marry?
Elsa felt the ice inside clench and threaten to rise to the surface. She forced herself to take one deep breath, and then another. Marry …
The idea wasn't as impossible as it was a year ago. No. Not impossible at all. Not when all she had to do was close her eyes and feel the ghost of a hand on her waist, see a shy smile, or watch the sunlight as it flashed off a pair of spectacles.
But …
She shook her head. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Increased pressure was nothing she couldn't handle.
"I do understand – and I … well, it's a price I'm willing to pay," Elsa replied.
"Very well," Chancellor Tennfjord nodded.
"So … can I count on your support, Chancellor? For Anna and Kristoff?"
And for the first time since she had come into the room, Chancellor Tennfjord smiled – truly smiled.
"You may."
Master Moller was a good secretary, but there some places where his loyalty would be tested, and there were concerns that might supersede his duty to his employer. His desire to live a quiet life and not be henpecked to death by his parents, for example. So it was not at all surprising to Elsa that Councilor Moller had found his way into the second slot on Elsa's schedule that she had left open for private meetings.
Unlike Chancellor Tennfjord, who had at least given Elsa the opportunity to speak first, he wasted no time. "Your Majesty, surely you understand what a mistake this marriage would be?"
"If I thought it was a mistake, I would have hardly given my blessing, would I have?" Elsa asked, eyebrow raised.
Councilor Moller blinked. "Well … perhaps if you did not want to say no yourself—"
"No," Elsa interrupted.
"No?"
"No."
"Oh." He slumped somewhat in his seat, then brought a fine linen handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow with it.
Elsa forbore from raising her eyebrow again, even though she did not usually have that effect on people. Then again, Councilor Moller was a bit different.
"But Your Majesty – an ice harvester? I understand the last prince Princess Anna brought around was … well, I suppose he was hardly ideal … but it's not like her charm has worn off, you know. Not in the least! Why, my own son – Brynjar, that is not Bertie – er – that is to say, Captain Moller, not Master Moller – well, I shan't deny that he's said some very complimentary things about her …"
He left the sentence dangling, as if to invite a confidence from Elsa, a hurried admission that Anna had said some complimentary things, too. Unfortunately he was doomed to disappointment, because he had not annoyed Elsa so much that she would repeat some of the things that Anna had actually said about Captain Moller.
"How lovely," was all Elsa would allow herself to say.
"Er—yes—well—there's also the Emperor of Friezenburg, you know?" Councilor Moller went on.
The hackles on the back of Elsa's neck began to rise.
"I know he's married, of course – but he has got two younger brothers – and you know, I think the younger one is just Princess Anna's age – he's attending university at the moment, I believe, but that would hardly be an impediment – in any case even a betrothal would come in quite handy, given everything, don't you think?" He blinked a couple of times, again inviting a confidence.
This time Elsa decided to be blunt. "For Friezenburg, perhaps. I'm not sure how such an arrangement would benefit Arendelle."
"Well—they're the Empire of Friezenburg! When was the last time a Princess of Arendelle set her sights so high?"
In a way he almost had a point. Friezenburg was a great power. Arendelle was not. However, Friezenburg also had to worry about its next-door neighbor trying for a land grab in the near future. At the moment, Arendelle had no such troubles. To create an alliance with Friezenburg now was an excellent way to invite such troubles, or at the very least make Friezenburg's troubles become Arendelle's troubles, which was something Elsa was trying to avoid.
And all of that was not even getting into the matter that Anna's heart was already taken.
"Or if you're not interested in Friezenburg … there are plenty of other young princes – dukes – etc. out there," Councilor Moller went on. "I'm sure someone suitable could be found."
"I am sure there is no shortage of suitable candidates," Elsa conceded. "However, the fact is that my sister is in love with Lord Ismester. He is in love with her. And they will be very happy together." Elsa raised both of her eyebrows, looking down her nose at Councilor Moller. "I intend to see to it. And I will be … most pleased with anyone who is willing to help."
For a moment Councilor Moller's eyes lit up. For a moment he opened his mouth. And then he shut it again.
He straightened his waistcoat and tilted his chin up. "Your Majesty, I cannot be party to this. It is a mistake."
"I was quite serious when I said that I would be willing to dismiss councilors if that meant my sister would get to marry the man she loves," Elsa replied. "You are aware of that?"
"That would also be a mistake, and it would cause no end of uproar in the kingdom. I should hope you would reconsider."
Unfortunately he was not entirely wrong. Councilor Moller had gotten his post by virtue of the fact that his wife's cousin was the governor of Grums – a governor who had managed to retain his position even after Elsa's father had pushed through the reform that led to governors being elected by the popular vote. If she were to dismiss Councilor Moller, Governor Frisk would not be pleased, and that could make things … difficult.
But she would cross that bridge when she came to it.
"Perhaps. But the kingdom has weathered uproar before, and it shall again." Elsa tapped her fingers on the desk, wondering if there were any other arguments she could marshal to her side. None came – mostly because she realized that there was simply no reasoning with some people. "Councilor Moller, is there anything else you wish to say about this match – other than that it is a mistake? You've made that point quite clear."
"Only that I hope you will reconsider, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing his head.
"And I hope you will reconsider." Elsa smiled, small and tight. "We shall see which of us bends first. But if you have nothing more to say … then it would not be right for me to trespass on any more of your time."
"Oh. Um. Er. All right, then."
It took Councilor Moller a minute to realize that was a dismissal. When he did, he got up in a hurry, bowed, and scurried out of the room.
As soon as the door was shut behind him, Elsa sighed and shook her head. Hopefully whoever comes next will be easier than this.
As luck would have it, Bishop Elias was next on the list. When he came in, Elsa offered him a chocolate, which he gladly accepted. In the past year Elsa had learned that his addiction to the stuff was almost as bad as hers and Anna's.
They ate in silence, giving the chocolate its due. Then Elsa reluctantly put the box back in its drawer. She looked up at the Bishop with a faint smile. "Well. Duty does call."
"Indeed." He sighed, a faint frown creasing across his long face. "You know, Your Majesty, I'm not sure why you asked me to meet as well as everyone else. I mean, of course you should wish to speak to those opposed to the match and those undecided, but why those of us who are in favor? Fairness?"
"Not just that. To be honest …" Elsa took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Well, I should—if you do not mind—like to hear why you're in favor, so I might take your best arguments and shamelessly pilfer them as I attempt to convince your colleagues."
Bishop Elias chuckled. "An ulterior motive! I ought to have guessed."
"Indeed," Elsa replied. "That, and Bishop, we barely heard from you at all the other day – I must admit, I am curious about what led you to the conclusions you made."
The laughter was gone.
"Ah," the Bishop replied. Elsa began to reach for the chocolate again to lighten the mood.
He sat back in his chair, frowning. "Your Majesty … what I am about to say might not be very comfortable for you to hear. I'd like to apologize for it in advance."
Elsa forced a shrug. "Since I doubt you'll be questioning my sanity or implying that I am a poor ruler for wanting my sister to be happy, I don't think any apologies are necessary."
"You might wish I was," he replied. "You see, I would think it a grave mistake for either you or Princess Anna to marry for any reason other than the deepest love …"
Elsa blinked; that was not what she had been expecting to hear at all.
"And I very much fear," he sighed, "that the reasons for that thought have everything to do with your magic."
"… Ah," Elsa murmured. Her hands, which she had folded on the desk, seemed to fall to her lap of their own accord.
"It's not just because love is the key to controlling your powers," he went on. "From a truly – you must excuse for what I am about to say – from a wholly if rather mercenarily pragmatic perspective, surrounding you with as many loving relationships as possible is only sensible. But that's really not all it is."
Bishop Elias frowned faintly. "It's a very nebulous idea I'm going to describe – but describe it I must. True love is stronger than magic. Everyone – no, let me rephrase. Virtually every source that has described the workings of magic agrees on that, whether we're looking at the history of Queen Snow White of Corona, Queen Aurora of Francelle, even Queen Merida of DunBroch – somehow or other, the magic in their lives was always reversed by the power of love.
"Yet," the Bishop chewed his lower lip, "there are … other stories … stories where magic was enhanced, made even more powerful by love – where magic and love working together accomplished what neither could accomplish alone. They are only whispers, rumors, but …"
The Bishop kept talking, but Elsa wasn't listening. She was thinking.
Rapunzel. And Eugene.
The number of people who knew the truth about what had happened to her cousin when Eugene freed her from that witch Gothel was small. Tiny, even, maybe more than could be counted on one hand, but not so many that one would need more than two. But Elsa was one of them, because her cousin was a kind-hearted soul who somehow managed to see the best in people even after all she had gone through.
Because Rapunzel was one of the few people who had watched the person she loved most in the world die, only to come back to life again.
So after the Great Thaw, Rapunzel had sought Elsa out and talked to her about it. About what she had seen, and how she had felt, and how it was simultaneously the most wonderful and the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her. And Elsa remembered how she had described it.
"So after Eugene … died, I just—I started crying, and I started singing the song again, my song. I didn't know what else to do. And I don't really have any idea how what happened, happened. But I cried, and one of my tears fell on Eugene's face, and then … I felt it before it happened. It was the same feeling I would get when my hair would heal people, only it was fainter, like it was coming from a greater distance. Then … light. Light started coming out of his wound, in long trails, like – like have you ever held a candle and moved your arm really fast, so it looks like you're making a shape with the flame? It was like that, only the light was there the whole time. The light formed a flower shape right over Eugene's wound, and then …"
Elsa would never forget the way her cousin had smiled, the way her brilliant green eyes had grown glassy with tears.
"Eugene came back to me."
Magic, Elsa thought, magic, and love. Magic—magic can't bring back the dead—and love certainly can't, otherwise barely anyone would die—but when you combine the two …
She had to swallow and clutch her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. "So—pardon me, Bishop—you think that combining the power of magic with that love will … make us more powerful?"
The Bishop had not been speaking—Elsa had no idea when he had fallen silent, but perhaps he had done so when he realized that he was not being listened to. All the same, he did not answer right away. "Not … exactly. Certainly not in the way the world sees power. But …" He leaned back, tapping his fingers together, clearly deep in thought. "Your Majesty, I will be brutally honest. Too often when we hear of magic, we hear of the destruction it causes, of it being used for evil purposes. If—if things had ended differently after your coronation, yours might have been another of those stories, regardless of what you meant or didn't mean to do. It seems to me … that by making sure you and your sister have strong love on your side, we might begin to change that narrative."
But why? Elsa wondered. Why does it matter? It would make life easier for me, assuming such a thing could even happen in my lifetime, but—
Elsa. Stop. Don't be a fool.
Bishop Elias was an educated man, perhaps the only member of her Council who had even attempted to understand her power, rather than fearing it, seeking to use it, or trying to ignore it. He valued truth and knowledge for their own sakes. For him, turning that narrative around was a worthy goal in itself.
And perhaps … perhaps, even if he did not want to admit it, perhaps there was a thread of wanting to make sure Elsa's own power was hemmed in and controlled by love. She couldn't blame him. She knew too well what happened when she let fear overwhelm her love and her entire sense of who she was.
"I … see," Elsa replied, nodding slowly. "So you think that … surrounding magic with love would keep us safe?"
"Yes, I do believe so. Especially since …" Here the Bishop looked stricken. "There is … perhaps … a possibility of the magic being hereditary."
Elsa froze. "Her—hereditary? But—but that's impossible. Isn't it? Wouldn't we know if—I've never heard of families of magicians!"
"That may very well be because in many of the stories we tell about magicians, they are evil, harmful people," Bishop Elias said very gently. "In many cases, it would not surprise me at all that they did not have children. In other cases – if the truth about them was twisted – they might have hidden their families away, or their families may have disavowed all connection with them for their own safety. At this time and distance, it's impossible to tell."
"I … see … but you think if there's a chance that – that my child—"
"Or Princess Anna's," he interrupted. "Slantwise inheritance is certainly not impossible."
Elsa nodded. "Yes. Better that child be—be brought up knowing that love … love is more powerful than just about anything."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Bishop, I—I must thank you for sharing this with me. It has been most … instructive. But …"
She opened her eyes. "I must ask you for a favor."
"I certainly shan't speak of this to anyone without your express permission," the Bishop replied, nodding.
"But that is not what I want you to do. I would—Bishop, if you would not mind, and if your colleagues ask – please, do not be shy about sharing some of your theories. Particularly regarding heredity, and the importance of love conquering magic."
Bishop Elias's eyes went well and his jaw fell slightly. "But Your Majesty! The last thing we want to do is encourage more misplaced fear!"
Is it so very misplaced? Elsa wondered. "But it could work," she replied. "The other councilors – well, you saw how they were thinking. If that is how their minds are going to operate, I think your argument is one of the few that stands a chance of convincing them."
She had to take a deep breath and remember that love will thaw before saying her next piece. "And frankly, if your theories are correct, then ensuring that Anna marries for love is even more important than I thought it was, and that is saying something. So – will you do this for me? Please?"
Bishop Elias watched her for a long moment. But finally he nodded. "If that is your wish … then, Your Majesty, you can count on me."
"Your Majesty …"
Elsa found herself watching the worried green eyes of Councilor Hagebak and trying to smile. Amazing – he was probably the only one of her councilors who was more nervous about this meeting than she was. Unfortunately, she could take scant comfort in that fact.
"Are …" He tilted his head back, sighing. "Your Majesty, I'll be honest. I don't think allowing your sister to marry an Arendellian – and a commoner at that – is a wise idea."
"Lord Ismester is not a commoner anymore," Elsa replied, "though why not an Arendellian?"
Councilor Hagebak frowned, probably determining which statement to reply to first. "Not an Arendellian because – well – with war coming on the continent …"
There is always a war coming on the continent, Elsa thought, but let her eyebrows rise in a mute invitation to say on.
"I've been speaking with Minister Falk," he went on, "and I don't believe – and he doesn't believe either – that this is a simple border dispute. This war could drag in several countries and last for years."
"Minister Falk has revealed his concerns to me," Elsa answered, "and to be honest, I share them. However, I must admit that this analysis makes me even less inclined to force Anna to leave her home in order to marry some foreign prince."
Councilor Hagebak could have easily pointed out that being forced to leave one's home, possibly forever, to be wed to a foreign prince was one of the traditional duties of a princess. He did not. "I understand your concern, Your Majesty, and given that she is your heiress, I would agree that we should find some way that she would not have to leave home. But that being said – a foreign alliance could help us greatly now."
"Why?" asked Elsa. "Marrying into either Corinthia or Friezenburg is more likely to draw us into this war, which I should like to keep us out of, if at all possible. Marrying into a state allied with either could have the same effect – is practically designed to have the same effect. Even marrying into a neutral state doesn't keep us safe."
And, Elsa thought, if it's alliances we need, who says they have to be sealed with a marriage? Of course marital alliances are important, but for heaven's sake, there are other ways to do it. Mutual self-interest, for one.
It wasn't as if Elsa didn't know how the game was played. Often royal children would be shuffled around in betrothals continually until the time came for them to actually wed. But that practice was starting to fade in these modern days, and with the governments of many countries turning increasingly republican – where it made no sense to marry your son off to the daughter of the Prime Minister of another country, because in next year's elections he might no longer have his post – it might even be gone before another century had passed.
Seen in that light, allowing Anna to marry where her heart led her was merely getting ahead of a trend.
But Councilor Hagebak didn't see it that way. "Er—well, not necessarily, Your Majesty. See, if you were to have Princess Anna marry into …" He groped for a country, "Corona, let's say! They've got a few spare dukes lying about, I believe – well, if war is to come, Corona would almost certainly side with Corinthia. If we were tied to them by marriage, then perhaps we could still stay out, simply by forming an agreement to come to Corona's defense if Corona were to call on us – but keeping our troops in reserve until that time.
"And … by our troops, I mean …" He looked at Elsa's hands. "Well."
Elsa also looked at her hands. "I … see."
Her heart was starting to pound, and she had to swallow a couple of times to regain her composure. Love. Love will thaw. It didn't do anything to slow her heart rate down, but the ice that was starting to wake up was soothed, settled, and went to sleep again.
"Councilor Hagebak, I—I thank you for saying that, truly. Because it seems to me to be an excellent plan. But we already have close relations with Corona, personal relations I might add, and we could come up with a military alliance without needing to recourse to a marriage."
Whatever King Leopold might think of using Elsa's powers in the field of battle … Rapunzel knew what it was like to be used only for a power she had not asked for and had not chosen. Rapunzel would be on her side.
Councilor Hagebak blinked. "Well, I only meant to use Corona as an example, but—yes, that does make sense." He took a deep breath and pushed both of his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of that. However … Your Majesty, don't you think Princess Anna can do … well, better?"
Elsa stiffened.
"I mean—I have nothing against Lord Ismester, personally. I'm sure he's a fine young man. But he comes from a very different world from us," Councilor Hagebak pressed. "A very different world."
Elsa thought of Anna's childhood – lonely, isolated, and really not part of the "world" that Councilor Hagebak was referring to at all. Was the difference between Anna's world and Kristoff's really that extreme?
"And it will be difficult. For both of them, personally. It's been a year and a half, and—anyone can see that Lord Ismester is still not fully comfortable in this station in life."
I'm not fully comfortable in this station in life, and I was born to it.
"That is not even beginning to think about the difficulty that they will both have, and that you will have, once the nobles learn of this—"
"Councilor," Elsa interrupted, "have you ever been in love? So in love that you would brave any danger to save the person you care for? So in love—so in love that you would give them up, if that is what it took to keep them happy and safe?"
Councilor Hagebak blinked. Then he sighed. "Yes."
Elsa's eyebrows rose.
"Frankly, yes—I was. To a woman—who—well, let's say our relationship was not entirely unlike Lord Ismester's and Princess Anna's – er, with the roles reversed. And I …"
He looked out the window, his eyes tracing the snowflakes gently falling. "I—I did not mean to get so personal – but if you must know … my father was responsible for separating us. He did the right thing. Never mind what marrying her would have done to my career. If I had married her, it would have been terrible for her. She would have never been accepted at this station in life. Never. Others would have … well, they would have made her life awful, and I'm being polite about it."
Councilor Hagebak stared at Elsa, eyes narrowed, speaking slowly. "Your Majesty, you can force the Council to accept this marriage, but you cannot force the kingdom. I don't mean that people would rebel," he added, forestalling Elsa's protest, "in fact, I'm sure that—well—many of the people of Lord Ismester's former station will be quite happy about it. And Princess Anna earned much goodwill with the common people. I mean—I mean the people whom Lord Ismester and Princess Anna must deal with every day. The nobles, the wealthy. There are more ways to show that one does not accept a marriage than by rioting in the streets. And some of those ways can hurt, very deeply."
Elsa forced herself to take one deep breath, then two. The thought of Anna and Kristoff being cut off, ostracized …
No. No, that won't happen.
"Princess Anna has many friends," Elsa replied.
"They might not be her friend after she's married."
"I disagree." Elsa tilted up her chin, stared Councilor Hagebak down. "If they refuse to associate with her for marrying a good man whom she loves very dearly, then they were never her friends in the first place. Princess Anna and Kr—Lord Ismester will do this, and they will be accepted. If for no other reason than," Elsa took a deep breath, "I have to work with my nobles politically – but there is nothing, nothing that says that I have to tolerate people socially who treat my beloved sister and her chosen husband with anything other than the respect and courtesy they deserve."
Councilor Hagebak sighed. "For their sake, I hope you're correct. But I can't be party to this mistake. I never … I never thanked my father for pulling me back. Preventing someone else from making the same mistake I nearly made is the closest I can come to doing it today."
"Even if it costs you your post?"
"Even that, Your Majesty."
"Very well. Then I thank you for your honesty and your integrity, Councilor. And I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant than this interview."
Blinking – perhaps he had expected to be handed his walking papers then and there – Councilor Hagebak bowed and politely took his leave.
As soon as he was gone, Elsa sighed and rubbed her temple. I hope – I truly hope – that it doesn't come to having to fire councilors. Because I'm not sure I can afford to lose an honest man.
When Treasurer Akselsen came in next, he was panting and out of breath. Elsa poured him a glass of water, held onto it for long enough to make it cold, and held it out to him without a word.
"Thank you," Treasurer Akselsen gasped out before taking a long drink. He finally seated himself, and the two of them faced each other in silence while he caught his breath.
For the second time Elsa had a councilor mopping his brow with a handkerchief, although in this case she at least had a reasonable explanation that had nothing to do with her. "Sorry about that," the Treasurer said with a faint, apologetic chuckle. "Lost track of time. A dropped decimal point—well, you don't want to know, Your Majesty."
Given that Elsa had seen the difficulties that a misplaced decimal could cause in her own back-of-the-envelope calculations, she decided to take him at his word. "As long as everything is sorted out in the end," she replied. "However, before we say anything else, I really must thank you."
Treasurer Akselsen had been taking another sip of his water, but he paused, his eyebrows rising.
"For, er, already giving your vote in support of Princess Anna's marriage," Elsa answered, hoping against hope that he hadn't changed his mind. For the supporter whose brain she was most eager to pick to change his mind was not something she wanted to contemplate, for all that she was afraid she might have to.
Treasurer Akselsen's eyes went wide, then he nodded, still drinking. Finally he put the glass down. "Your Majesty, you need not thank me. I'm only advising you in the way that I believe is best for the kingdom."
Elsa tried not to wince. True, she didn't think Anna and Kristoff's marriage would be bad for the kingdom, it might even be good for the kingdom … but best for the kingdom …
"After Master—er, that is, Lord Ismester has already done quite good work with the ice harvesters, and it's to be hoped that as Princess Anna's husband and your brother-in-law, he'll continue to do good work." He cleared his throat. "But you already know my thoughts about the international ice trade."
Elsa nodded. Harvesting ice was something that had been done in Arendelle for generations, but turning it into an international trade was something that had only happened in her father's time. Of course the Americans had beaten them to it, but it had been her father's hope that Arendelle, being closer to the population centers of Europa, might be able to undercut the Americans' prices and earn a lucrative national trade for themselves.
Whether her father would have achieved that vision with natural means was anyone's guess. What was not in dispute was that Elsa being on the throne helped matters considerably.
"Look at what he did with the ships alone—er—of course, Your Majesty, you did the work there, the true work, but …"
"Treasurer," Elsa said, raising up her hand. "I assure you, what I did with the ships was not that difficult."
Kristoff asking me about it was probably more difficult. She remembered how he had stood at her desk, hat in hand, leaning on his crutch. He wasn't anywhere near ready to return to the ice, but Kristoff always had to be doing something, so she'd asked Treasurer Akselsen if he wouldn't mind talking to Kristoff about his thoughts about the ice trade. After all, the title Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer ought to mean something.
It had ended up meaning more than Elsa had bargained for.
"So, um, Els—I mean, Your Majesty, the Treasurer and I were thinking …" Kristoff kept turning his hat in his hands, probably to give them something to do. Elsa understood the feeling. It was why her own hands were hidden under the desk.
She'd asked him to sit down twice and he hadn't. So now she was watching his leg closely, figuring she'd turn it into an order if he seemed about to fall. Anna would not be pleased if Kristoff got hurt on Elsa's watch.
"It's just," Kristoff went on, oblivious to her thoughts, "we all know that the ice trade is—people are making a killing off it, is what I'm saying."
Elsa nodded.
"But—the problem with shipping it any distance, especially to hot places where they need the ice is, well, ice melts. But …" He took a deep breath. "You can—well, you're the Snow Queen."
Her brows knit together. "Are you suggesting that I …" She hesitated, not knowing what he was suggesting.
"Make—make some ships cold?" Kristoff asked. "Well, not the whole ship. Just the hold, where they would have put the ice anyway. I mean, I understand if you don't want to do it, I know it would be hard, but I figured there was no harm in—"
"Wait, Kristoff." He'd spent far too much time with Anna; now he was starting to sound like her. Elsa bit back a smile. "You want me to enchant some ships to be cold – is that what you're asking? So they can better transport ice?"
He nodded, half-eager, half-shamefaced.
Elsa leaned back in her chair. "I … I never thought of that before …" She tapped her fingers against the surface of her desk. "I don't know how far the magic will last. I mean—once it gets away from me."
"Even a little bit helps, Elsa," Kristoff replied, and she could see that he meant it.
There would be details, Elsa knew. Pesky, annoying little details that would crop up when they were least expected and make things difficult in wholly unappreciated ways. But …
Details aside, she couldn't think of a single good reason why not. She'd wanted to use her powers to help Arendelle, hadn't she?
"All right," Elsa replied. "You and Treasurer Akselsen come up with a plan – once I've approved it, I'll … enchant the ship of your choosing."
"Wait—what? Really?" Kristoff's eyes widened. "That—that's it? You'll do it?"
"Would you rather I not?" she asked, eyebrows going up.
"No, no, no! This—this is great! Thank you, Elsa!" And barely waiting to be dismissed, he'd hobbled off, no doubt to tell Treasurer Akselsen the good news.
That had only been the beginning.
"If—if you say so," Treasure Akselsen replied, shifting slightly and gulping. Elsa didn't blame him for being uncomfortable at the thought of Elsa only having to wave her hand and make a ship cold for nearly nine months and a journey all the way to the southern tip of Corinthia. If she thought about it too closely, she grew uncomfortable too. "That—that being said, with the ships, and the harvesters' guild …"
Elsa nodded. "You are sure that is a good idea?" she asked. She had her own thoughts on the matter of the ice harvesters organizing – and what that might mean for the rest of the economy – but what was the point of having experts on her Council if she did not ask them for advice?
"In the case of the ice harvesters, yes," Treasurer Akselsen replied. "Some people might say that all collectivism in the laboring classes is to be squashed, but frankly, the laboring classes make up the largest mass of people, and it's in everyone's interest if doing a long and hard day's work provides them with enough to adequately feed, clothe, and shelter their families."
If only, Elsa thought, because people who are fed, clothed, sheltered, and utterly exhausted from a long day's work are that much less likely to rebel.
"Besides, let's not forget that the ice harvesters have always been independent men, so there are no employers with deep pockets to offend."
"The owners of the ice houses were hardly happy," Elsa replied, referring to the men who owned the domed, sunken buildings where ice could be stored on even the hottest summer days. They tended to buy ice in bulk from the harvesters, and of course a guild of ice harvesters demanding higher prices was not something they would support. Their reaction had been to attempt to boycott guild harvesters, trying to break the ice harvesters' will in the summer, when they depended on the owners of the ice houses to sell and distribute their ice domestically.
That hadn't worked, so far, and the ice harvesters had Kristoff to thank for it. Perhaps he had cheated, getting the treasury to lease one of the late Roahl Ramussen's warehouses to the guild to use to store ice. Perhaps the thumb Elsa had put on the scales by creating an enchantment to keep the drafty warehouse chilled had not been, strictly speaking, fair play. And some might say that Kristoff driving wagons around and selling some of the other harvesters' ice himself was entirely unwarranted.
But it had worked. The ice harvesters had stuck together and weathered the crisis. And once individual ice house owners had started to come around and agree to negotiate in good faith with the guild regarding the prices of ice, Elsa had enchanted their ice houses as well. She'd even enchanted the ice wagons of the men who had come around most quickly.
So nobody really lost. The ice harvesters had prices that were fairer. The ice house owners were still getting their cut of the lucrative trade, albeit a slightly smaller one. But with luck it wouldn't matter, because if they were able to expand their trade the way Treasurer Akselsen thought they would be able to, everyone would be making more money in the long run anyway.
"Your Majesty," he had said this past summer when the crisis had first started and Elsa had been unsure whether and how to step in, "when it comes to resolving economic disputes, I find that it's never useful to fight over how big everyone's share of the pie is. Everyone gets jealous and sooner or later we're all fighting over crumbs. What I find to be the best resolution is to simply make a bigger pie."
So far, it seemed to be working.
Treasurer Akselsen had cleared his throat, and Elsa looked up. "That is true, Your Majesty, but Ma—Lord Ismester led the harvesters through that … upset. He had help, but he did it all the same. With—with time, practice, and full royal support, he could do great things for Arendelle's ice trade."
"I do believe that's the case," Elsa replied. "And …" She bit her lip. She knew Kristoff well enough to know that if he lost Anna—well, he'd have no reason to stay. The title, the position, the quarters in the palace, the generous stipend – those were not the perks. Those were the inconveniences he put up with to be closer to Anna.
Even if he stayed for the ice harvesters' sake, he certainly wouldn't be working as closely with the royal family. Perhaps they could still expand the ice trade. Perhaps he'd given them already a good enough foundation to grow on.
But it would be so, so much easier if Kristoff was still there to lead the charge.
"The trouble," Elsa mused, "is convincing your colleagues of the good that Lord Ismester could do, and how it can be enhanced if he is married to Princess Anna."
"Indeed," Treasurer Akselsen murmured. "Indeed."
"Have you any ideas?" she asked.
"Your Majesty, if my colleagues could be convinced by reason, logic, projections and reports, I should have already done so," he replied. "However …"
"I know," Elsa replied. "Still, if you think of anything …"
He nodded. "You will be the first to know."
It had felt good to get back on the ice. Maybe not good in a purely physical sense – Kristoff's back was aching, his arms and shoulders were sore, and he was pretty sure he pulled something in his leg – but it felt good. Clean. Pure.
Understandable.
And to make matters even better, he had a full sled full of ice to show for his efforts, marked with his brand, and now sitting in the warehouse-turned-icehouse until the ships for the southern climes started loading. It was an actual, real-life accomplishment, something that you could point to and say, "I did that." It wasn't politics and backbiting and wracking his brains to find a way to convince stubborn men (and women) that he was somehow good enough for Anna.
Unfortunately, it was also a rather sweaty and smelly accomplishment.
"Come on, boy," he said as he put Sven into his loose box, "let's get you cleaned up."
"You should worry more about getting yourself cleaned up!" Sven answered. "Anna can probably smell you from here!"
"Ha ha, very funny. You did want carrots tonight, didn't you?"
"Smell? Did I say something about a smell? I meant …" Sven looked from side to side, looking as confused and out of sorts as the reindeer ever did.
Kristoff chuckled as he took the combs and brushes and started to brush Sven out. He liked the stable hands and all, but they hadn't the least idea about how to groom Sven. They tried to groom him like a horse, and that wasn't how it worked, not in the least. But some of the stable hands still didn't see a difference.
"You'd better hurry up, you don't want to be late for dinner with Anna," Sven said as Kristoff took his time with Sven's hooves.
"It'll be fine," Kristoff said. "She's got her committee meetings with the Winter Festival people, remember? That always takes forever and a half."
He tried not to sigh. They were eating dinner together tonight, just the two of them, and it was supposed to be romantic. But the knots that Kristoff had chased away by heading out onto the ice were coming back, and he had no idea how he was going to pull off a romantic evening.
How was he supposed to act like one half of an engaged couple when he was terrified that the whole thing would be called off, and there was nothing he could do about it?
Sven didn't speak, just nudging Kristoff with his nose. Kristoff tried to smile, scratching Sven under the chin in the spot he liked best. "It'll be ok, buddy. Somehow."
"You two will think of something," Sven agreed. "But right now you should probably focus on hurrying up if you don't want to be late."
"Late? Then I hope we can make this brief," came a voice from outside the stall.
And Kristoff's eyes went wide, and he cringed, because he knew from experience that people thought him talking in Sven's voice was really weird – and the last thing he wanted was for the Jarl of the Western March to think he was too crazy to marry Anna.
Of course, standing up so fast that he misjudged the angle, cracked his head against Sven's water trough and got knocked to the ground, swearing, wasn't the kind of thing to create a good impression, either.
Kristoff was still flat on his back, cursing his rotten luck (in his head this time, luckily), when the pair of boots shined with military precision came into view. It was followed by a hand. "You all right, Lord Ismester?"
Kristoff took the hand and allowed Jarl Casper to help him up. Standing, he dwarfed the military commander by a good four inches, but that did nothing to make him feel any better. "Yeah. I'm fine." Kristoff smiled and pretended to rap on the side of his head. "Thick skull."
Then, Aww, SHIT as he realized what he had just said and how it would sound.
"Which can come in so handy for so many things," Jarl Casper replied, in a tone that Kristoff couldn't quite pin down as sarcastic or serious. "Do you have a few moments, Lord Ismester? The Queen has scheduled to meet with me this evening, but I was hoping to speak with you first."
"Um—" Kristoff started, but before he could even shoot a glance at a half-groomed Sven, the reindeer headbutted him forward.
All righty then, we know where you stand, buddy. "Yeah—I've got time," Kristoff replied.
"Excellent. Shall we walk? There's a portion of the training grounds that should be empty this time of the day."
Kristoff simply nodded and followed Jarl Casper out.
He assumed that the walking meant there would be no talking. Why else would they be going to a deserted place if not to make sure no one else could hear them? But that wasn't the case. "Have you ever heard of the story of Princess Ingrid and Greve Konrad?"
"You—you mean the daughter of King Haakon?" Kristoff asked, because there was only one Princess Ingrid he'd ever heard of, but there were probably dozens in Arendelle's history.
Jarl Casper nodded. "That would be the one."
"Um—well, yeah, I heard the story. Greve Konrad was her husband, right?"
Again Jarl Casper nodded.
"And—and the story I heard, they fell in love, but King Haakon said that anyone who wanted to marry her had to defeat all twelve of her big brothers at once. So Princess Ingrid made a salve that gave Greve Konrad the strength of ten men, so when he had to face off against her brothers, he was able to do it and win. And win her hand," Kristoff finished, unnecessarily. "I'm sure there's more to it, but that's the gist of what I heard. I—well, it's just a story, so I never paid that much attention."
"Oh, no, it's quite true," Jarl Casper replied. "Well—not in all the details, of course."
Kristoff nodded; of course that bit with the salve couldn't be true.
"From what I understand, it was actually a potion – ingestible – that Princess Ingrid made," Jarl Casper went on, "not a salve. And though King Haakon made Konrad face all the brothers in a single bout, he didn't send them in all at once. That would be mad. From what I understand, they went in pairs."
"… Oh," Kristoff replied, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the whole "strength of ten men" bit might have actually been true.
"Do you know why King Haakon did that?" asked Jarl Casper.
Here Kristoff felt that he was on firmer ground. "He didn't want Princess Ingrid to get married. Or at least not married to Greve Konrad."
"Oh, no," replied Jarl Casper.
So much for firmer ground.
"He had no problem with her marrying – or marrying Greve Konrad, for that matter," Jarl Casper went on. "What he had was a keen understanding of how the succession works."
Huh? The guy had twelve sons. Isn't that when you stop worrying about the succession?
"The trouble was that King Haakon had twelve sons, and at that time, Arendelle was not large enough to support twelve princes. So King Haakon and his sons … let us say, they enlarged the territory. And while they were successful, that is the sort of thing that leads to a royal house making enemies. King Haakon feared that eventually one of those enemies would rise and attempt to slay them all. If that were to ever happen … Princess Ingrid would be the last hope of Arendelle's ruling house.
"Which meant," Jarl Casper continued as they passed into a small courtyard with a couple of training dummies, some benches, and a single, nondescript door leading back to the castle, "that Princess Ingrid – and any child she might be carrying, or already have – needed the best protection the land had to offer. Someone who was capable of defeating her twelve brothers, because any attacker who tried to get to her would have already done as much."
"Oh—boy," Kristoff muttered.
"Indeed. And as I'm sure you can see, we find ourselves in a similar position today with Princess Anna."
Wait, WHAT?
Kristoff stopped dead, staring at the back of Jarl Casper's head.
Jarl Casper turned around, eyebrows raised. "Surely you realize that Queen Elsa's … gift makes Arendelle a target?"
"I—I thought it would scare away people who think like … that," Kristoff finished stupidly.
"In terms of men who think only of wealth and power, certainly," Jarl Casper nodded. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was standing so straight that Kristoff found himself trying to remember those posture lessons Anna had insisted he sit (and stand, and bow) through with her to keep her company. "But those aren't the only men out there. There are some who will want to harm the Queen simply because of … who she is. And in that case …"
"Anna," Kristoff said, and gulped.
"Indeed."
"So …" Kristoff swallowed and rubbed the back of his head. "Is this the part where you tell me that you'll only support Anna and me if I mow down twelve guys single-handedly?"
"Not in the least, my lord. This is the nineteenth century. The sort of men you would be facing, if it – gods forbid – were to come to that, would not be trained warriors who fight with decency and honor. They would be assassins with a single task in mind and not too much worry about they accomplish it. So fighting twelve trained soldiers would not be much good. No, my lord," Jarl Casper said, turning and grabbing two sticks that had been leaning against the wall. Swords, actually—wooden swords. "What I want you to do is to hit me."
"Wait, wh—" Kristoff started.
He didn't finish. Jarl Casper threw one of the swords to Kristoff, and before Kristoff had properly caught it, Jarl Casper was on him with the other sword.
"Hey! What—" Another sentence Kristoff couldn't finish, as he tried to block Jarl Casper's sword with his sword and only succeeded in getting hit on the arm. "MJOLNIR!"
"It's a wooden practice sword, Lord Ismester. Trust me, this isn't anywhere near Mjolnir."
There were a dozen smart remarks begging to be made in reply to that, but Kristoff was too busy trying to keep himself from getting concussed to make them.
Gods, but Jarl Casper was fast! Kristoff had no idea where the next blow was coming from so could only do his best to block. And hit the old general? Ha!
The wooden blades cracked together in the cold still air, ringing like thunder through the courtyard. Kristoff had to wonder why no one else had heard them.
"You see," Jarl Casper began to speak, "the man whom Princess Anna marries," thrust, "has to be able," crack, "to defend her even when every other man," Kristoff had no idea what he did there; he could only duck out of the way before the blade came down on his head, "has fallen. He has to be," Kristoff had to grip his sword with both hands to keep it from flying out of his grip, "strong enough to buy the time necessary."
Time, Kristoff thought, time, I can do time. He actually blocked a blow and managed to push back, just a little. "Time for," he had to duck again, "reinforcements?"
That was when Jarl Casper looked—sad? "Lord Ismester, if you're fighting to protect her," Kristoff yelped as the wooden blade made contact with his upper thigh, "there aren't any reinforcements left."
Holy—
But the thought never got farther than that, because Jarl Casper somehow doubled his attack, and all Kristoff could do was back away while trying to block. The blade moved through the air in front of him like a bird or a bee. "And if a man can't do that," Kristoff felt his back hit the wall, "then he's worse than useless for her!"
"Hey! I'm trying!" Kristoff shouted, then ducked again. Jarl Casper's blade hit the wall with a force that would have sent sparks flying if it were metal.
"Trying? You haven't come close to touching me!" Jarl Casper shouted back. "Show me what you can do, Ismester! Prove to me that you're willing to do what it takes to protect her!"
Are. You. Kidding. Me?
That was when Kristoff saw red. "What I'M willing to do?!"
He leapt forward with a roar, swinging his sword every which way so that Jarl Casper had to stumble back and try to block.
"What I'm willing to do for her? I'd do anything! Ten minutes," crack, "ten bloody minutes after we met, you know what happened?" Slam. "Wolves! Godsdamn wolves show up and attack us! They chased off a cliff! A cliff! And you know what I did then?"
He didn't wait for Jarl Casper to answer, but kept hacking and swinging, trying to hit, some, any part of him. "I put Anna on Sven and cut Sven loose—so he'd jump! So he'd make it, and she'd make it, and even if I didn't make it, they'd be ok!" He slammed his sword into Jarl Casper's shoulder, making the older man yelp. "I'd known her for ten minutes!
"And now? Now?" He slammed his sword into Jarl Casper's hip, putting all the weight and all the muscle he'd built from years of hauling blocks of ice behind the blow. "What do you think I won't do for her now? I might not know how to fight, but you can bet your arse I'll fight for her!
"I'll fight," smack, "anyone," crack, "you," push, "send me!"
With that was one last blow and one last push that sent Jarl Casper sprawling into the snow.
He didn't pop right back up.
Kristoff dropped his sword. "Oh shit!" He ran forward. "Jarl Casper—I'm sorry—are you ok? I didn't mean to—"
Jarl Casper held up a hand. "I'm fine," he said. Was he panting? "I'm fine. You pack a wallop, Lord Ismester, if you don't mind me saying so."
"Heh," Kristoff swallowed.
"But," Jarl Casper made as if to sit up, and Kristoff rushed to help him, "you clearly have no idea what you're doing."
No arguments there.
"And that won't do," Jarl Casper said, shaking his head. "No, that won't do at all."
Kristoff's heart dropped.
"After all," Jarl Casper made his shaky way to his feet, wiping snow off his coat, "if—gods forbid—something should happen, you need to have the best chance we can give you."
Wait … what?
"Um," Kristoff replied, most intelligently.
"Luckily there's a solution," Jarl Casper went on as if Kristoff hadn't spoken at all. "You've heard of Ahlstrom's, haven't you? The fencing school?"
Kristoff's jaw fell. "That's—that's the most expensive place in town …"
"Quite, and worth every øre, I should say," Jarl Casper replied. "Go there. Ahlstrom will teach you what you need to know. You'll find that the methods aren't … conventional, but they're quite effective."
Kristoff's brain was still sputtering over the world Ahlstrom. "But—but I can't!"
Jarl Casper blinked, his eyes growing hard, set. "You will if you want to marry the Princess. I will insist that you know how to fight, or you shan't get my vote."
"But I …" Kristoff rubbed the back of his head. "How am I going to afford that?"
For some reason this made the Jarl blink again. "Eh? Oh! Oh, never mind that. I've got it all fixed up with Ahlstrom."
"You're—I can't ask you to pay—wait, what? You planned this?"
"Of course," Jarl Casper replied, straightening the buttons on his jacket, "and as for paying, I won't be. The royal treasury of Arendelle will be, because if Akselsen can take out insurance policies against every eventuality, then so can I."
"Er," Kristoff replied.
"Any other questions?" asked Jarl Casper. "I fear I might be late for my appointment with the Queen."
"Um …" Kristoff shook his head. His life had been a whirlwind since he met Anna, and clearly it wasn't stopping any time soon. "When?"
"Show up Thursday eight o'clock, when they open," Jarl Casper replied. "Ahlstrom will meet you at the door."
Kristoff simply nodded.
"And by the way, Lord Ismester …" Jarl Casper came a little closer and stuck out his hand. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I am certain you and Princess Anna will be very happy together for a very long time to come, and I intend to do everything in my power to see that you are."
This sucker is over 10,000 words – almost 20% of the story that's been written thus far. And the next chapter is just as long(ish).
Thank goodness it's already written.
Anyway! I want to thank all of the reviewers since last time: Van (hi Van!), Jacob Flores, fericita, csi cameron, grrlgeek72 (times 2!), CrunchDeNumbers, homers8736, Insectoid, MagicOfDisney, TheHumanCanvas, Red Star, Guest, another (?) Guest, winterinverona (hi Winter!), and Batman1809. Thank you SO much for your kind and encouraging words! You make me smile whenever I hear an e-mail notification!
Also, Guest: SOMEBODY NOTICED THE DRESS! You have no idea how happy that makes me.
Thanks for reading, everybody, and see you for Chapter 5!