Chapter 2: Military Tactics

Elsa was walking at a fast pace in one of the corridors. She was dressed in a skin tight dark red dress that reached her ankles. She wore white heels, and a diamond tiara sat upon her braided platinum blonde hair. The servants had insisted upon the tiara and the color of her dress- to remind her guests who was in charge here.

Though she had a nagging feeling that they knew it wasn't her.

The sound of her heels against the tiled floor was evidently loud enough for her to be heard from a mile away, because the tall double doors opened before her, pulled by two guards, before she could reach to open them herself. The King, the Queen and their twelve sons stood up as one around the long white table, but she wasn't fooled at their feigned respect. Candelabras were positioned along the table in such a way that she could see every prince's face as they observed her. She suppressed a shudder and forced a smile.

"Good evening." she said pleasantly as she walked to the head of the table, turning her back to the huge windows that gave a breath-taking view of the royal garden, covered in snow and illuminated by a full white moon and a million stars.

"Good evening, your Majesty." answered the King pleasantly as they all sat down once more.

"How do you find your accommodations so far?" she asked pleasantly as the sound of the clatter of forks and knives filled the room. Servants rushed forward to serve wine.

"Yes please," she said to one of them, and she saw from the corner of her eye the King looking disgusted at her glass. She'd heard rumors that at the Southern Isles, women couldn't drink alcohol, let alone become queen- even just as an honorary position… which was starting to feel like exactly what she was. She saw the King squeeze hard enough the Queen's hand that she flinched in pain when she had reached for her glass. Elsa felt a shudder of rage course through her veins.

"Yes, they are quite agreeable, Queen Elsa-"

"Aren't you taking any wine, your Majesty? I assure you Arendelle's wine is worth tasting." she interrupted the King and spoke directly to the Queen. Elsa noticed that she immediately sat a little straighter, but didn't answer immediately.

"It is not in our customs that women drink alcohol, your Highness," said the King coldly, and Elsa noticed the switch in titles. Majesty was used for kings and queens, whilst Highness was for royal children, princes and princesses.

"Yes well, as we are in my kingdom, you will excuse me if I desire to abide by our customs."

As the King's gaze shifted, and the princes' backs stiffened, she felt that the altercation wasn't so much about women's rights to drink alcohol any more.

"I'm sorry, Queen, but I can't abide to your request." The anger was barely concealed in the King's tone now.

"Fine," she snapped. She knew how to pick her battles, and had decided that it was better to lay down now and let them think she was easily overpowered.

"I'll have some wine, thank you very much."

Elsa looked up, surprised at the voice that had come out of the Queen's mouth. It was small, but quite poised and unafraid. The servant looked uncertainly at Elsa, and she nodded. For the first time, she took a closer look at the Queen. She was quite pretty; her face was covered in freckles and her red hair curled slightly around her face. Her eyes were a stunning green, and she couldn't have been a year older than twenty. She stretched her memory to remember her name; it had surely been mentioned during Hans' trial.

Eleanor. Elsa remembered that she wasn't the mother of the thirteen princes; Queen Anastasia had died giving birth to Prince Hans, and the King had taken a young and fresh new bride days after his wife's funeral. That bride had died just recently (the rumour told that the King had her murdered, because she hadn't be able to give him an heir) and had married Eleanor very recently.

As the young queen took a sip of the wine, the King glowered at her but didn't say anything, probably scared of making a scandal. But Elsa had no doubt that the Queen would dearly pay her moment of rebellion, and despite who she was married to, Elsa couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl.

The dinner went on, and though the atmosphere stayed tense, everyone was much more diplomatic… everyone being Elsa and the King. His wife and sons stayed mostly silent during the meal, except when directly called upon by their father.

"My son here, Gregory, is actually the captain of my army, he could teach you a lot about military tactics, your Majesty…"

She had bristled at those words. She had studied hard military and strategy tactics on a battle field since the age of nine, on her father's orders and knew a lot. Though she was sure that an expert could teach her more than a thing or two, the suggestion that she didn't know anything about them made her wonder if they didn't teach anything to princesses in the making in the Southern Isles. Except from having correct dinner manners.

But she didn't rise to the bait and continued smiling and talking pleasantly. She would argue later; for now, her goal was to discover as much as she could about this future alliance. She didn't know if the King knew how much she'd been kept in the dark, so asked strategic questions. The King always avoided the questions though by a simple 'surely you don't desire to talk about politics now, Queen Elsa,' and returned to a safer subject.

Of course I want to talk about politics, she seethed. I'm the Queen.

But she kept her mouth shut during the whole ordeal, swallowing the retorts that came to her. The same words 'not now, not now, not now' had become a chorus in her mind.

At long last, the dinner ended. She stood up and they all followed suit.

"I greatly enjoyed your company this evening," she said, the words sounding hollow on her tongue, "I look forward to giving you a tour of the palace tomorrow afternoon gentlemen; I bid you a good night." She strode out of the room regally before anyone could answer her or start another conversation about military tactics.

She mounted the stairs, and she felt like it was an eternity before she finally reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her. She stared at her window for a few seconds, before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. Though the sound was muffled, she felt a little relieved when she finally put the pillow back on her couch, and slumped onto the bed.

She thought about the King, the Queen and the princes, somewhere in the palace right now. She gazed up at the ceiling and thought hard, ignoring the temperature of the room that had dropped a few degrees. She needed to regain control, and quickly. Her country was being governed by a group of men unwilling to admit that if her father had bothered to make her learn military tactics, it wasn't so that she would end up the royal baby maker. And they were fools, complete idiots, to think about making an alliance with the Southern Isles. These were backward people; slavery was still in practice, and she'd seen enough about the way they treated women. Not an ounce of respect, and they couldn't tolerate a woman they couldn't control. They were only polite to her for now, but she knew that they would rise at the first occasion to beat her down. No, there was definitely only one reason why these men would be here…

And then it hit her.

They want Arendelle.

She got up and paced the room. She'd rather die than let her people fall between their hands and be subjected to those kind of laws…

But then, maybe that was exactly what they wanted.

...

Jack gripped his staff as he flew South. Soon enough, he could feel the wind around him become warmer. He glimpsed, from high above, red roofs, sandy beaches, and green trees.

So this is the Southern Isles, he thought to himself as he made himself drop towards the ground, the wind catching him every few feet. When at last he landed on a roof, he was greeted by the sight of a few boys playing in the street with a dusty, old ball.

"Hey little guys," he said, but not loud enough that they could hear. Though more and more children had started to believe in him, something told him that here, where winter was virtually non-existent, he'd be lucky if a few children would have even heard about him.

He sat on the roof and observed the boys. Now the only thing to do was wait for nightfall, which was only an hour away, and wait until the children fell asleep. He would see then if these nightmares were the product of the children's imagination, or something much darker.

Just then, a shout echoed down the alley as a woman rushed towards the children. The mother of one of them, he guessed, and he frowned as she ushered the children away, throwing worried glances behind her back. He frowned as he leaned over the edge of the roof.

"What is she doing?" he muttered to himself. Indeed, he couldn't see why she wouldn't want her children playing outside on such a sunny day, not a shadow of danger anywhere in sight…

That's when he heard them.

Savage shouts echoing down the streets reached his ears. He flew to the next roof, and then to the next, following the shouts.

"JOIN THE ARMY NOW! ALL BOYS OF THE AGE TEN AND OLDER ARE REQUIRED TO JOIN! COME TO FIGHT FOR THE GLORY OF YOUR COUNTRY!"

Jack's jaw dropped. Ten? Was this a bad joke, or were they all barking mad?

At last he came in view of the shouting men. There were about twenty of them and seemed to be soldiers, all dressed in uniforms; they were all banging on doors, shouting their horrible message as if it was as anthem. He was suddenly very glad he was invisible.

He watched, horrified, as a child was pulled from his home by one of the soldiers, as his mother shrieked.

Geez, what is this place?

The soldiers moved to another street, and Jack followed them, still reeling from what he was seeing. When they arrived in front of the home where the little boys that had been playing football had disappeared into, he couldn't help it. With a swish of his staff he froze the door shut. The soldier tried to pull it open, and finally gave up, moving on to the next home. Jack breathed in relief and continued following them. He couldn't freeze all the doors however; if none of the homes would be accessible to the soldiers, they would get suspicious and find a way to open them anyway… and he suspected that that would end badly for the family's inside.

Well, more bad than it was now, anyway.

But he had to force himself not to do it, though he tried to freeze as many doors as he could. Hopefully, the ice would soon melt, because he didn't know how to melt ice and the families would be stuck inside until it had melted.

Better they're stuck than having to watch their children get kidnapped.

There was no other word for it, these kids were being kidnapped. The soldiers had rounded up about seven kids, and all seemed to be quivering with fear, though trying to put on a brave face. Jack couldn't help but feel impressed at their bravery.

"That's enough," finally said a soldier that appeared to be in charge, "They'll do for now. We'll come back for more later. Let's lead this bunch back to the castle."

By now, dusk had fallen, and the last orange rays of the sunset glistened on the streets, illuminating the skies in streaks of violet, orange and pink. It was a magnificent sight- or it would have been, if Jack had bothered to watch it. He was too busy gliding behind the soldiers, and too focused on staying near the children, trying to fool himself into thinking he could protect them. But if none of them could see him, he'd probably be doing more damage than not.

His sense of foreboding increased as he looked up the hill they'd been climbing for half an hour. An imposing fortress stood before him. It was nothing like North's hideout which, though it was enormous, had a certain warmth emanating from it. This fortress was different; it had a cold, creepy air about it, and did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach. As they entered, Jack's anxiety only grew.

It was completely round, and everything bustled with activity. The courtyard was filled with men- mostly redheads- and several women passed them, keeping their gazes averted. The men were shouting and stamping their feet, and Jack saw a man advance on a platform. He, too, had red hair, and wore a white jacket. The crowd immediately fell silent, and men bowed down. A King then, or something not far from that.

Jack saw the teenagers being ushered to the front of the crowd and forced to bow, as the man looked down at them.

He instantly hated him.

"I am your Prince Hans, and whilst my father and brothers are in enemy territory, I am your sole and unique chief. You will obey me, respect me, protect me."

Someone has issues.

"You have been taken from your homes to join your country's army," continued Prince Hans, his voice louder so that it carried across the whole courtyard, "and you will have the great honor to give your life to your country during the war against Arendelle and its monstrous, hideous and dangerous Ice Queen."

Jack descended into the courtyard, nobody could see him anyway, and edged closer. This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. He racked his brains, struggling to remember if he'd ever heard about a kingdom named 'Arendelle', and he remembered vaguely a kingdom where it snowed nine months out of twelve. He'd rarely been there; they didn't need him, weather disruptions like blizzards happening every other week. But what was this about a monstrous, hideous and dangerous Ice Queen?

"I have personally met the Queen, and I can testify that she is the cruelest human being- if she is that- I have, and will, ever meet. We have to destroy her before she starts a war herself to overtake our kingdom," the Prince gave a dramatic pause; and then he screamed: "DEATH TO THE ICE QUEEN!". The shout echoed down the courtyard as the men repeated it, louder and more savagely. He didn't know who this 'monstrous' Ice Queen was, but she was in some deep trouble.

He flew to the ramparts and sat down, his leg swinging and his staff over his shoulder. Well, at least he knew now that Pitch had nothing to do with the nightmares; who wouldn't wake up screaming when their brothers could be taken from them any second? To fight in a war, no less, and when it was very clear that they probably wouldn't make it out alive?

Because whoever this ice queen was, she seemed to be ruthless and merciless, someone who wouldn't feel any remorse about murdering these children.

He had to do something, he realized. He was on this earth to protect these children; it was the only reason he still existed, three hundred and nineteen years after his birth.

Finally making his decision, he threw himself from the roof and lurched himself, pushed by the full force of the wind, towards the Pole.