Frozen Together Chapter 13
Back in the town, the situation was close to chaos. The sudden onset of winter weather in summer had caught the entire population without firewood, and their warm clothes were packed away in attics and storage areas. The guests who had traveled to see the coronation had nothing warm to wear at all.
Adding to the confusion was the fact that the government had been decapitated. Both the new Queen and the Princess had run away to parts unknown, leaving no one in their place to make decisions. Nasty rumors about the Queen were spreading fast, aided by the Duke's constant references to her as "the Bringer of Winter." It was an open question if she could have reigned effectively if she'd stayed. Anna was much-loved by the people, and they would have gladly followed her orders. But she, too, was gone.
There was no shortage of nobility who were willing, yea, eager to fill their shoes. Nearly everyone on the coronation guest list had the rank and breeding to rule the palace and the town, if not the whole kingdom. It was decided to call a conclave, and from among the worthy noblemen and women who were present (and couldn't leave if they wanted to), someone would be chosen to lead Arendelle out of this crisis.
The conclave was going nowhere until Prince Hans of the Southern Isles suddenly stood up and exclaimed, "I just remembered! Just before Princess Anna ran off into the snowstorm, she shouted, 'I am leaving Prince Hans in charge until I come back!' I believe that gives me a strong claim to rule."
"Indeed?" nodded the old Duke of Glauerhafen, who had been chosen to lead this meeting because they all knew he would never get the position (he was too lazy to rule his own duchy, never mind someone else's domain). "And why would the Princess have chosen you, Prince Hans?"
"Well..." Hans blushed slightly. "I had proposed marriage to her that afternoon. I think she was about to accept my offer."
"Indeed," the Duke nodded again. "Were there any witnesses to this statement of hers?"
"Yes!" the Duke of Weselton shouted as he stood. "I was about thirty feet away, trying to catch up with him, and I heard her say it quite clearly."
"Is there anyone else here with a stronger claim?" the old Duke asked. There was no one. It was decided that, due to Princess Anna's decision, Prince Hans would be given temporary authority to rule Arendelle until a member of the royal family returned.
"If you all don't mind," he began, "I need to confer with my trusted advisor. Then I will try to do something useful for this suffering kingdom." He and the Duke found a small office and closed the door behind them. The Duke seated himself at the King's writing desk, whose stool would make him taller, and Hans took a comfortable armchair nearby.
"Nicely done, boy," the Duke grinned. "I knew you had potential! We may be able to salvage this situation yet."
"Is there still a problem?" Hans wondered. "The royal family is gone, I'm legally in charge... what else do we need to do?"
"It's never that easy, boy!" the Duke erupted, slamming his fist on the desk. "Legally, you're nothing but a pretender to the throne. The Queen has done a nice job of removing herself, as I suggested she might; but the moment your Princess comes back, everyone will want her to be the sovereign, and you'll go back to being Thirteenth of Thirteen! Our work here is just beginning."
"Will there be time to do something to help all those people?" Hans wondered. "They really are suffering out there."
"Yes, yes, of course," the Duke nodded. "In fact, that should be your first order of business. Definitely do something for the people. I, on the other hand, will publicly fuss and complain about the costs of your actions. The people will love you all the more when they can contrast your kindness against my small-minded greed."
"The old 'bad noble, good noble' game?" Hans grinned.
"Exactly," said the Duke. "You'll have the citizenry eating out of your hand within a day or two. Then it will be time for the hard part – bringing the royals back here so we can deal with them in a nice, neat, legal fashion."
"No one even knows where they are," Hans said thoughtfully. "Maybe it would look good if I rode out to find them."
The Duke considered that. "Yes, I suppose it would," he nodded reluctantly. "That means I'd have to ride out with you, and cross-country riding in winter has never been my favorite activity. Still, this could be the most ticklish part of our plan, and I can't trust you to handle it on your own."
Hans was beginning to get tired of being treated like an incompetent child. "What's it going to take before you accept me as an equal partner in this deal?" he demanded.
"I'll treat you as an equal when you've earned it, boy!" the Duke shot back. "The very fact that you'll settle for the crown of Arendelle is proof that you aren't at my level yet. When this thing is done, you will be a small-time King, whereas I shall be an extremely wealthy Duke. Until you can see the difference between the throne of one kingdom and the wealth of many kingdoms, you will never be my equal."
"I assure you, I have my reasons," Hans said tightly.
"And I assure you, your reasons will count for nothing when the gold is added up," the Duke replied, then resumed his mask of affability. He rose from his chair. "We can continue this cheerful discussion later. For now, it's time for you to start acting like the King you so desperately want to be. After all, your subjects are suffering out there."
Hans took immediate and vigorous action – opening the palace to people who had no warm place to go, and distributing blankets to anyone who needed them. The Duke was furious. "These blankets are trade goods, Prince! You're ruining their resale value!"
"I don't care about that, Duke – not while people are suffering!" The Duke was putting on an act, but not much of one; Hans was being completely honest. He was secretly beginning to wonder if he would ever measure up to his mentor's standard. The old Duke looked at people and saw labor, taxes, and revenue; Hans looked at them and saw men, women, and children. Maybe it wasn't his destiny to become a wealthy, powerful manipulator and king-maker like the Duke. Maybe becoming a small-time King was the best he should hope for.
Was there anything wrong with that?
o
They had food. They had shelter. Anna was warm enough. They had each other. The question was, what should they do with themselves? Anna summed up the situation best when she said, "I love being free, but it's kind of boring."
There was no work they had to do. There were no books to study, no lessons to memorize, no obligations of any kind to fulfill. There wasn't anything fun to do, either. In fact, they had nothing to do at all. How could they pass the time? Games of "I spy with my little eye" got tired really fast.
The best answer they found was in Elsa's power, and her sudden willingness to use it. She started with simple things, and moved up to greater projects.
She made rows of ice knight statues to guard the entrance, just like the suits of armor that Anna was forever colliding with at the foot of the grand staircase in the palace. She made life-sized sculptures of bears, and foxes, and eagles, and Viking ancestors, and anything else she could think of. She made fountains of ice, complete with columns and sprays of frozen water. She made reproductions of the paintings that hung on the walls of the palace, complete with icy frames. They were quite good, because she didn't need coordination or artistic talent; she just thought about what she wanted, and it appeared before her, exactly as she visualized it. If she wanted to change something, the snowflakes would fly for a few seconds, and the change would be there. When she got tired of something, it would vanish in a puff of ice crystals, and she'd make something else to take its place.
She made furniture for their palace. Now that she'd learned the art of compressing snow clouds, she could make cushions and pillows just as firm or soft as she wanted them. Couches, chairs, tables, footrests, cabinets with doors that swung on hinges... nothing was too hard for her. She even managed to make a working roll-top desk, not because they had any use for one, but just to see if she could do it. Every day, she would redecorate; the colors didn't change much, but the style, size, and placement did. If she wanted to challenge herself, she would make ice flowers to put in ice vases on top of the ice tables, or ice topiaries to stand in ice pots by the ice doors. Those projects actually took some effort and concentration on Elsa's part, because they were so fine and complex.
She made icy blades appear on her shoes and on Anna's boots, and they tried to turn the lower level of the ice palace into a skating rink. Neither of them knew what they were doing, and after many falls (and the inevitable collision between Anna and one of the icy suits of armor), they mutually decided to give this project another try some other day.
At night, Elsa would put on icy fireworks shows for her sister. Brilliant sprays, star patterns, spheres that suddenly imploded and then burst outward again... if Elsa could imagine it, she could make it happen in snow and ice. She was like a child at Christmas with a new toy. Anna had a hard time deciding which was better – the entertainment her big sister provided, or the joy in Elsa's eyes as she fully embraced the talent she had suppressed for so long.
But there was one firm condition. Anna could not stand next to her sister when any of this was going on. Elsa insisted that Anna stay behind her.
"This has nothing to do with 'I'm the Queen and you're not'," she explained. "I just will not take a chance on hurting you! I'll create anything, I'll show you anything, I'll try anything you can imagine, as long as you're safely behind me. If you won't agree to that, then you can chip out your own ice sculptures with a rock. That's the deal; take it or leave it." Anna saw no benefit in digging in her heels, so she agreed.
Late one night, after an especially impressive light show, Anna asked, "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Last night, I tried defying gravity," Elsa replied with a bit of a grin, "but it just pulled me down."
Their household had a third member, who came and went as he pleased. Olaf genuinely liked both of them; that was no surprise to either sister, who recognized him as a representation of their best childhood memories together. He was friendlier toward Anna, while his attitude toward Elsa was more one of awe. His endless chatter could get monotonous, but Anna couldn't exactly complain about that, and he made up for it with the many times he made them laugh.
He watched the ice-skating lessons with poorly-concealed mirth. Sliding across the ice was child's play to him. Why were they having such a hard time staying upright? Finally, he asked Anna, "What's the hardest part about skating?"
"The ice," Anna answered ruefully, rubbing the part of her that she'd just landed on. He loved that answer, and went around repeating it to himself for the rest of the day.
They sometimes had a fourth person keeping them company, but only from a distance. Kristoff, like them, had nothing he had to do, so he sometimes rode up the mountain with Sven, just to stare at Elsa's magnificent handiwork. He couldn't get enough of the sight.
One afternoon, the sisters stepped out onto their balcony and saw Kristoff on the next ridge, sitting in his sled, staring in their direction. Sven was using his antlers as back-scratchers and was joyously oblivious to anything else. Anna nudged Elsa and asked, "Do you think he's staring at the stairs or the palace?"
Elsa smiled. "Actually, I think he's staring at you."
Anna laughed and waved the idea aside. "Don't be silly! He knows I'm almost engaged to someone else. Besides... he's Kristoff! He wouldn't look twice at a girl unless she had antlers."
Elsa realized that it might be very, very funny if she gestured and made ice antlers appear on top of Anna's head. But that would mean aiming her power right at her, and... no. That was never going to happen again. The moment passed.