Author's Note:
So, I just realized that I totally contradicted myself in this story. Oops. If you caught it, good going. I went back and tweaked a previous chapter slightly, so hopefully everything makes sense now. I guess that what I get for not making outlines. And taking a month off.
I feel that things are really picking up now! Oh boy! Happy reading...
Review please! It makes me feel so happy, knowing my story is being read. :)
Freja sat up straight in bed, her whole body aching with terror. She held her head in her hands, her brunette hair shooting out in tufts from beneath her fingers. Her brain was pounding, and the pounding was a name. Her daughter's name. Elsa! Oh, why had she come here, so far from her safe abode of Arendelle? Why did Rosie have to go and fall ill? How come no one had found a cure? Why on earth did she agree the meet with that miracle man? She cursed at his name. Alazair. Why hadn't she left for Arendelle the moment her sister was healed? How could she have let her brand new daughter slip through her grasp?
Failure swept over Freja like a tidal wave. What kind of mother was she, that she had so foolishly gambled with her daughter's very life? Now Elsa was gone. Freja pressed her hands against her slowly flattening abdomen. If only her child were still inside her, safe in her womb, protected from danger and evil and magic.
Startling as the door opened a crack, Freja watched with dead eyes as her sister stepped into the dim room. Rapunzel was cradled in Rosie's arms, and Freja felt like screaming. She loved her sister, she really, really loved her, and she loved her niece more than her own life. But not more than Elsa's. She hated herself for thinking that. Her eyes narrowed as Rosie crossed the room and sat down on the bed in front of her.
Her older sister's face was hard to read, so many emotions were spilling out of it.
"Hey," Rosie said, her voice gentle, cautious.
Freja said nothing. She couldn't even meet Rosie's eyes… for fear of losing herself all together. It should have been the last think on her mind at the moment, but other than holding Elsa again, Freja wanted nothing more than to not cry. Or yell.
"You fainted. Stellan carried you in here."
"Where is he now?"
"He and Thomas and went out to find Alazair…"
The name made Freja flinch. Rosie reached out a hand and clasped onto her little sister's wrist.
"We will find her, Freja. It's going to be alright."
Freja snapped, "No! Don't tell me it's going to be alright! You have no right, sitting there, holding your baby! You don't know anything!"
Rosie withdrew quickly, in expression full of shock. Rapunzel wailed at the sudden shout. Freja's face softened.
"I'm… I'm sorry," a shuddering sob escaped her, and she hung her head, a hand shielding her eyes in humiliation.
Rosie laid Rapunzel on the bed and wrapped her arms around her sister. Freja breathed in her scent (mostly, she smelled of Rapunzel's spit up) and allowed herself to cry. For several minutes, not a word was spoken. Then Rosie tilted Freja head up and wiped away the tears from her now-puffy, red face with her thumb.
"I want Elsa back," Freja said. Her strength had returned slightly. She felt the love and courage of her sister coursing through her.
"Well, let's go get her, then!" Rosie said. She slid off of the bed and began to pick up Rapunzel again.
"No, let me," Freja cut in. She lifted her niece up gently, holding the baby against her shoulder, "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she whispered. Rapunzel cooed.
"So," said Rosie, straightening up with an air of dignity, "now what?"
"Now we find Alazair." Freja took a deep breath, her cluttered mind starting to clear a bit. She knew she needed to think, not panic. Losing her head would do nothing to help find Elsa.
"About that, Thomas and Stellan and a whole slew of soldiers are out looking for him. I was wondering if our time would be better spent trying to figure out who Alazair's partner is."
Her jaw dropping, Freja gasped, "He has a partner? How do you know?"
"Eugene said something about it. I can't even imagine that little boy mixed up in all of this, but I think Alazair killed his parents," Rosie said, "He told me that Alazair was in his home, talking to his father with a man called… oh, what was it… Carney."
"Carney," Freja echoed, her voice trailing off as she murmured, "Of course."
"Of course, what?"
"Carney was the physician, well, I thought he was a physician, who arranged for Alazair to come heal you," Freja felt her face growing red again, and she took another deep breath, steadying her thoughts. "He was setting up Alazair the whole time!"
After putting Rapunzel back to sleep under the care of Gerty's watchful eye, Rosie and Freja went to the library. The sun was beginning to peek through the curtains as they entered.
"Now," said Rosie, plopping herself down in Thomas's cushy chair at the far end of the room, "this is the Coronian Manifest. If there is someone named Carney living in the kingdom, maybe we can find out where he lives. That would be a start, at least."
The sisters huddled over the thick book, flipping through the pages. Not knowing weather "Carney" was the man's last name or first caused for slow-going.
"There! John Carney Williams!" Freja finally shouted when they had reached the W's.
"There's an address here!" Rosie said, running her finger under the name, "It's near the southern edge of the village."
Four horses were brought from the stables for the two queens, and the two remaining guards that were to accompany them. Freja swung into the saddle with ease, just then noticing that she was still wearing her nightdress as she gathered the fabric in front of her. Oh well. Glancing over at her sister, Freja couldn't help feel a spark of admiration at the grace Rosie possessed on horseback, even in her nightgown, her hair erupting in bed-head. Then again, Rosie had always been the more elegant rider. Freja had been the fastest.
They rode through the village, and Freja's mind drifted back to Elsa. What did Alazair even want with her? A ransom? He could have acquired as much wealth as he wanted just by healing Rose. Sickness began creeping back into Freja's stomach as she thought of the miracle man holding her daughter. Hoping and praying seemed pointless, but nevertheless, Freja pleaded in her mind that they would be able to find Carney, or some other sort of clue.
At last, the little procession reached the recorded home of John Carney Williams. Early-rising passersby stopped and gawked as their queen and their former princess, clad in nightgowns, swung in an unladylike fashion from their horses. Rosie nodded at one of the soldiers, and he banged roughly on the door. Freja glanced in the window. The house was dark and dusty.
"Open it."
With a crash and a loud crack, the soldiers broke the door down, dust and the smell of mold wafting out of it. The guards entered, searching the abandon home, as Freja leaned heavily against the doorpost. He wasn't here. Their one lead.
Rosie watched the hope dwindle in her sister's eyes. Setting her jaw, she marched to the door of the house next door, knocking on it sharply. A short silence, then an annoyed voice, came from inside.
"Eh? What in the blazes! D'ya have any idea what time it is?"
Rosie banged on the door again, and just as she did, it swung open and she nearly socked the old man that stood there in the nose."
"What's wrong with you, girl?! Why on earth…" the man stopped his scolding, suddenly realizing who stood at his door, and his jaw dropped.
"I… I… Oh, your majesty! Please, forgive me! I… didn't know it was you!"
"It's fine," Rosie said quickly, "But I need your help."
"Anything, my queen, name it!"
"Do you know who lives here, next door to you?"
"You mean John?"
Freja jumped over to the doorway, "John Carney?"
The old man looked doubly shocked, "Ye… yes… I do believe I've heard people call him Carney before."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Ah, he never comes home anymore… Frankly, I didn't even know he still lived there. I haven't seen a light in the window for weeks."
Freja's face fell.
"But," the man said, "I can tell you that if you hang around the Black Ram Tavern for a bit, he's sure to turn up. He practically lives at that place."
With a shout of thanks, both women were off, running toward their horses. The old man waved and shook his head in confusion as they galloped away in the direction of the tavern.