Fitz took a roll and the footman continued down to Anna, strictly speaking a breach in protocol as Anna should have been served after Elsa, but Elsa had decreed it an acceptable lapse. She said it was tiring to watch the food bounce around the table like a tennis ball. Fitz noticed that this didn't mean she was served anything but first.
Fitz looked carefully at the roll and brought it to her plate, immediately Elsa reached out with her right hand and placed it over Fitz's hand. Kristoff chuckled.
"I'm getting better," Fitz protested, pulling the roll from Elsa's grip and gently putting it down on her plate.
"I'll be the judge of that," the Queen returned, indicating that the peas could continue down the table.
"It's a very hard habit to break. If you'd ever eaten one, you'd understand why."
"I have no need to eat one to understand that bugs in the bread are less than desirable," Elsa shot back. "We just don't have that problem here. And this conversation is finished." She gave Fitz the 'and I mean it' look, arched eyebrow, tight smile and a dismissive pat on her forarm.
"Fine."
A few moments of peace went by with nothing but the sound of delicate chewing and the clink of glassware. Elsa should have realized Fitz's uncharacteristic silence was significant.
"So Kristoff," Fitz asked thoughtfully. "Have you ever had a weevil race?"
Kristoff was the only other person at the table who had actually met a weevil face to face, but still this seemed to him an odd question. "No? Have you?"
"This conversation is not happening." Elsa glared at Fitz.
"Oh hush, we're just discussing sporting events." Fitz returned her attention to Kristoff as Anna tried not to die looking at her sister whose mouth hung open in shock. Anna was pretty sure it was Nanny who had last told Elsa to hush. "It's a shame that you haven't. It's really quite engaging, especially if you've made a proper bet. The trick is choosing the best weevil," Fitz continued.
"And how exactly do you know what 'the best weevil' is?" Kristoff asked with a disbelieving snort.
"How do you think?" Fitz looked between Kristoff and the meat she was cutting.
"Well," he replied, now convinced that life in the Avalonian navy must be really boring … and more than a bit insane, "I guess you'd pick … the biggest one?" He gave a shrug.
Fitz swung around in her chair to face him, her expression deadly serious. "Oh no, my good man. In such a situation, it is important to remember that you must always choose ... the lesser of two weevils."
There was a beat of silence, then Anna spit her mouthful of wine across the white table cloth, Kristoff hung his head and groaned, and Elsa … Elsa started laughing. She tried to keep it at a refined giggle, but soon she was bent over her plate wheezing and snorting. Elsa thought her laugh embarrassing and unqueenly and usually tried to stifle it; Fitz found it utterly adorable and made it her mission to bring Elsa to this state as often as possible. Tonight was a good night. It took several minutes before Elsa recovered, taking a sip of water, still breathing hard. She punched Fitz on the arm for good measure.
Anna looked up from mopping the wine from her plate. It was wonderful when her sister was laughing so hard she couldn't demurely contain it behind her hand.
"But," the Princess added, "It's better than racing silkworms, that always ends in a tie."
And Elsa was lost again, laughing hard enough that Fitz grabbed her to keep her from going under the table. She gracefully accepted the help, wheezing as she pulled herself upright again in her chair. Then she held up her hand.
"I've got one," Elsa said still a little out of breath.
Everyone stared. Elsa did not tell jokes.
"OK," Fitz nodded and leaned in. Kristoff smiled, and Anna folded her hands in her lap and sat up straight as if she was expecting a lecture not a witticism.
"So," Elsa started. "Once there was a very smart horse. Anything that was shown it, it mastered easily. Until one day, its teachers tried to teach it about Cartesian coordinates, and no matter what they did the horse couldn't understand the concept." Elsa seemed to be holding back giggles; her audience had no idea where she was going with this.
Struggling to keep a straight face, Elsa continued, "Then one day, a new teacher stopped by the stable and observed them. 'I know what the problem is,' he said. 'Why, you're putting Descartes before the horse!'"
Elsa looked around the table with a smug look on her face. There was a lengthy silence. And blank looks in return.
"Come on … Descartes … before the horse?" Elsa rolled her eyes; was she the only EDUCATED adult in this castle?
"Yeah." Fitz chuckled, although not at the joke, but she wasn't going to tell Elsa that.
"Who's Descartes?" Anna whispered to Kristoff. "Dunno," he whispered back. "Elsa," she continued. "That's the worst joke I've ever heard. You're … you're … you're worse than Papa."
Elsa sighed. "Thanks, Anna. That really wasn't nice."
"Having a bad heir day, honey?" Fitz quipped.
"Better hope that she doesn't use her ice powers on you, Anna, to turn you into a goon," Kristoff added.
"Yeah, because ..." Fitz joined in with him in chorus. "Heir today, goon tomorrow."