Chapter Seven: Introductions
Anna walked through the halls of the castle on auto-pilot, her feet knowing where to go even as she thought over everything she and Kristoff had talked about on the way back. They had agreed to keep Pabbie's last piece of advice a secret, at least until they could figure out what it meant. As she passed by members of the staff, many of them did a doubletake at their for-once-not-running/singing/laughing princess. It was odd enough to almost make some of them worry.
Eventually, Anna came to the doors of the library. She had already checked Elsa's study and bedroom, both turning up empty. Besides that one balcony she sometimes sat on just looking at the fjord, this was the most likely place to find the queen. If she was wrong again, it had to be the balcony. Right? Elsa was many things, but spontaneous was not usually one of them. That may be faintly annoying sometimes, but other times it came in handy.
Anna eased open the doors, conscious of the general "no loud noise in a library" rule that her sister followed almost religiously, and peeked in. Nothing yet, but it was a fairly large library. Anna entered fully, easing the doors closed and grimacing at a squeaky hinge (she should probably have that fixed at some point) and checked a few of the aisles. Still nothing.
"Elsa?" Anna whisper-called. "Elsa? Are you here?"
"I'm here." Anna shrieked at her sister's voice right behind her. Elsa laughed as Anna seemed to jump a good five feet. Maybe six, but who was counting? Anna spun around to find her sister, graceful as ever, with a book under her arm and a just-too-innocent glimmer in her eye. Anna's annoyance was replaced, and then some, by her usual enthusiasm and she grabbed Elsa's wrist, dragging her to the fireplace at the front of the library.
"Elsa, Pabbie told us about the monsters! Oh wait, he said they were something else- um, oh draugr, that's it! He told us about the draugr and why they're here - oh, and the guy in the hood, what was his name? He only said it once so I'm-"
"Anna," Elsa interrupted gently, knowing full well that the princess could go on like this for a quite-frankly amazing length before getting back to her point, "did Pabbie say we could trust him?" Elsa tried to keep the nervousness from her tone, and wasn't sure she had succeeded. Anna paused at the question before a wide smile blossomed across her face.
"Yeah, Elsa, he said we could trust him. He said the guy will help us." Anna looked away for just a moment, but enough for Elsa to see that there was more to it. The queen raised an eyebrow in silent question. Anna hummed in thought before her expression cleared again. "It would probably be easier if we could just talk to the guy," she explained. "So now we just have to find him."
Elsa gave a small smirk. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard," she said and walked away. Anna stood for a few moments, trying to wrap her head around what had happened, before shaking it off and following. She knew that look. Elsa knew something she didn't. But what could have happened in the brief (okay, maybe not-so-brief) time she had been gone?
Kristoff led Sven to one of the grassy yards that rested within the castle walls. The yard was always peaceful and Sven had earned a break. Sven wandered toward a tree planted near the wall and settled down, heaving a sigh of contentment as he prepared for a nap. Kristoff knew that Sven was hardly tired - a trip up and down the mountain was a pleasure cruise compared to a workday - but Kristoff also knew the value of taking it easy when you could. And Sven knew that value even better than him.
Kristoff sat as well, leaning up against Sven's side and trying to relax in turn. Anna had gone off to find Elsa and tell her about Grand Pabbie's advice, or at least most of it, which left Kristoff with nothing to do. Which was fine by him; a day off every once in awhile was good, healthy even.
Kristoff relaxed, the rhythmic sound of Sven's heavy breathing lulling him into a good doze. Just before he settled into full sleep, he caught the sound of voices. Voices? Two different ones sounded a little angry, and it sounded like a third one was trying to mediate. Kristoff sat up to listen more closely. Yep, definately three voices. Too far off to hear clearly, though.
Even breathing meant that Sven was still fast asleep, but Kristoff's curiosity was burning. Coming to a decision, Kristoff silently rose and crept, quickly-but-quietly, to a corner of the wall that hid the voices. He eased along the wall and stopped just before it turned, focusing on the voices.
"For the last time, I'm not going the enchant the queen," one voice said. It sounded young, maybe about his own age, and like the speaker were holding his temper in check. With limited success.
"A wise decision," another voice said. This one was smooth and oily, like some of the salesmen Kristoff had met. "Her magic would protect her, at least enough to render the enchantment useless. It is Old power, much like your own. And quite powerful, I might add."
"I meant not at all, Hugin!" The first voice again, and just a little louder. "These women have been through enough. Not that you two would care at all about that, but I do. Not to mention the fact that it's just wrong!"
"Well, boy, whatever you do you have better do it fast!" that voice was harsh and commanding, like the captains of the Castle Guard. "This two-bit sorcerer shant just sit willy-nilly while you have tea and cakes with the ladies trying to make friends! You need to establish dominance; take control of this tiny spit of sovereignty and send those idling troops off to do something useful!" Wait, what? Were these guys trying to take over Arendelle?
"The queen is powerful," the second voice reasoned, "perhaps she could be of aide. The shaman did say that she plunged her kingdom into a midsummer winter, and utterly by accident at that. Imagine what that kind of power could do, especially properly focused." Kristoff was liking what he heard less and less.
"Queen Elsa has her own responsibilities," the first voice countered. "I will not ask her to take up your thrice-damned crusade. She has a nation to look after, not to mention a family. You of all people know about duty as a monarch, Munin." What did that mean? Kristoff clenched his fists in frustration - he hated being in the dark like this. It was high time to put faces to these voices. He peeked around the corner.
A man in a now quite-familiar blue cloak was standing in a small, walled-in niche hidden from the rest of the yard by sides of the castle walls coming together. He stood alone under the large oak that left the small nook in shade, his posture tense as if preparing for a fight. The only other living things were a pair of black birds perched in the oak's lowest branches. Wait a moment - then who else could have been speaking?
"It seems you have finally learned some skill with words, Alphonse," the second voice said. A voice that came from one of the birds. Kristoff's eyes widened in surprise. He had been raised by trolls, seen a palace carved flawlessly from ice, was the brother-in-law to the Snow Queen herself, and the might-as-well-be brother-in-law of a talking snowman. Talking birds really shouldn't surprise him this much. And yet, they did just that.
The man in the cloak, Alphonse, stamped his staff in frustration. "The queen will help us here, I'm certain of that. She will do anything to protect her family." Was that a hint of sadness in the man's voice? "But she will help us because she chooses to, not because you two try to force her. Is that clear?"
Alphonse tensed and looked toward the rest of the yard, toward Kristoff. The ice harvester jerked his head back behind cover, hiding the small part of himself that had been showing. "Elsa's coming," he heard Alphonse say. "You two don't like to be seen, right? So I suggest you get out of here!" Kristoff heard the birds croak, presumably in response, and the flapping of wings that faded into the distance. With the birds gone, Kristoff eased himself down with a quiet sigh. He perked up again at the sound of footsteps on the grass and closed his eyes, trying to appear asleep. The footsteps stopped right next to him.
"You might as well stand up. I know you heard every word." Kristoff looked up into the shadow cast by the man's hood, guilt squirming in his gut. Why he felt guilty he couldn't say. Then again, maybe it was simply wariness. If his experiences with Elsa were anything to judge by, it never paid to antagonize people involved with magic, even the ones who seemed benign. Maybe he should say something?
"Sorry," Kristoff settled on, "I was just curious." He winced internally at the flimsy excuse. And yet, to his surprise, the cloaked mage simply smirked and lowered his hood, revealing his dark hair and dual-colored eyes.
"You say that as if it's a bad thing," he replied simply and offered a hand to help him up. Kristoff briefly studied the man, who fit Elsa's description to a tee, and took the proffered hand. Alphonse clasped Kristoff's forearm in an old form of greeting.
"Alphonse," he offered in a name.
"Kristoff Bjorgman," the ice harvester replied.
Alphonse narrowed his eyes and moved a little closer, as if studying him. His head tilted to the side and then covered his left eye, the blue eye, with his hand. He still looked at him for a few more seconds before lowering his hand with a hum of thought.
"I never would have pegged the shaman for blessing a Fetch," he said, almost to himself. Before he could consider what that meant, Kristoff caught the sound of Anna calling him. Alphonse snorted in amusement and eyed Kristoff.
"A wise man comes running to the call of his wife," he said wryly. Kristoff couldn't tell if it were some old saying or he had simply made it up to sound old. After a split second, he decided that it really didn't matter and led the way. Maybe now they could all compare notes.
Elsa smiled to herself as she tuned out Anna's calls for her husband, the sound easily carrying across the castle's small island. At least she wasn't running ahead. Usually when Anna wanted something, she bolted from one end of the castle to the other until either found it herself or someone else brought it to her (not an easy feat since she never stopped moving).
Eventually, Kristoff came into view. And he wasn't alone. Elsa's eyes widened at the sight of a massive black wolf padding along beside the mountain man, as if it had every right to be there. Anna stopped in her tracks at the sight, a small smile on her face.
"So, Kristoff. Who's your friend?" she asked. Kristoff raised an eyebrow in confusion and gestured to his left, but saw no one there. He looked down a gave a quite-unmanly yelp at the sight of the wolf. The creature looked up at him and snickered (wait, snickered?) before turning to Anna.
"Greetings, Princess Anna. How are you?" It spoke … in a voice that was unmistakably Alphonse's. The wolf bent its forelegs and lowered its head, an effective version of a bow, and its form rippled for the briefest moment before Alphonse stood before them and straightened up from his bow at the waist.
"Woah …" Anna said, eyes wide. "Do it again!" she said, a grin splitting her face.
"Anna, he's not a show pony," Elsa scolded. But when she looked back, Alphonse was once again a wolf. The wolf (Elsa was having a little trouble thinking of it as Alphonse) padded toward Anna, only craning its neck back a little to look her in the eyes.
"Is there something you wish to say?" the wolf asked.
"Thank you," Anna said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you for saving me." The wolf went stock-still, and after a moment he wriggled out of her grasp. He rippled and Alphonse was back before them.
"You are more than welcome, Princess Anna," he said, a small smile gracing his face. A pensive look crossed his features and he looked at each of them in turn. "Perhaps we should fill in each others' gaps in knowledge. I doubt whatever has it in for you two," he gestured at Elsa and Anna, "is done."
Elsa nodded and took the lead. It was time to learn all they could.
As they walked, Alphonse's gaze flickered over each of the royals. He could See something … off? … about their auras, their life forces. It wasn't something wrong, just different. And somehow faintly familiar. He wanted to brush it off, but a part of him was adamant that it was important. Whatever it was.
Elsa twisted and turned in her bed, thoughts about the day winding through the corridors of her mind. Alphonse's insights into their dilemma had helped them understand what they had been up against. When they had finished, Alphonse had been shown the room that Anna had insisted he use while staying with them - the room that was right across the hall from Elsa's. She hadn't been sure how to take that, and Alphonse had seemed to shrug it off.
According to the guard she had assigned to escort Alphonse through the castle, he had immediately visited the castle carpenter and stoneworker, borrowing a number of chisels, which he had used to carved a series of large glyphs, each composed of clusters of old runes, on the frames of the castle gates. He had then proceeded to do the same to the door and window frames of his room, Anna and Kristoff's, and her own. The guard had asked why he was doing so, and the mage had claimed that the glyphs were protections, wards against draugr and … other things.
Elsa had examined the glyphs that protected her room and had been struck at how the masses of blocky letters could look so … elegant.
Elsa rolled onto her back as she considered the dark-haired mage. Elsa had first seen the man the day before, and had only properly met him a number of hours ago. And yet, despite that, she felt a sort of … kinship with him - one like she had never felt with anyone, not even Anna. That look in his eyes, the one that spoke of a wounded soul and unshakable burden - it was much like she herself had felt for so many years. Was this feeling, this connection, what Anna had felt when she met Hans? Elsa's fingers clenched at the thought of the Southern Isles prince, the one Alphonse had theorized was behind the draugr. Familiar doubts rose within the queen; was he anything like Hans?
Those doubts were swept away by the memory of Anna's recount of their trip to the Valley of Living Rock. Pabbie had said he could be trusted. The troll chief's cryptic advice may have stunted her control over her powers and thus indirectly contributed to the Eternal Winter (he had apologized quite thoroughly when she had first visited the Valley with Anna and Kristoff), but she couldn't help but trust the shaman. He wasn't human, and his advice had been tailored by a non-human mind. This made it difficult for a human mind to properly interpret, a fact that was even more true for her parents - who had been on the verge of panic at the time. She didn't blame him for her predicament and valued his advice. And he had advised to trust Alphonse to help her and her family.
Elsa groaned and sat up at the feeling of cold creeping up her sheets, a tell-tale sign of frost forming from her storming thoughts. She came to the conclusion that sleep wouldn't come if she kept this up. Elsa rose from her bed and donned a robe, one thing on her mind: chocolate, the cure for all ailments. Hot chocolate would soothe her insomnia, as it often did during her bouts of anxiety.
Elsa crept through the castle, old instincts rising and keeping her from making a sound. Though she had long-since become queen, childhood memories of being caught by Gerda when she and Anna had raided the kitchens as children remained unforgotten, and old habits died hard. Upon finally reaching the kitchens, thankfully without incident, Elsa mentally prepared herself to make hot cocoa. But it would seem someone else had beat her to it.
A pale, fitful light flickered from within one of the pantries, as if from a torch, and it sounded as if someone were searching for something. A jar of milk sat on the corner of one of the counters, waiting for use. Elsa crept closer and looked in through the corner of her eye. A figure was rummaging through the shelves with one hand, a familiar blue flame flickering above the other.
"Alphonse?" Elsa asked. The man in question started and whirled around, his light almost guttering out in his surprise. It was only then that something clicked in Elsa's brain - Alphonse was bare-chested, clad only in the long dark pants he had worn that day. The queen felt warmth blossom in her cheeks at the sight.
"Queen Elsa," Alphonse greeted awkwardly. He seemed almost painfully aware that he had been caught raiding the kitchen, her kitchen. Elsa tore her eyes from Alphonse's stunned face (his face! She was looking at his face!) and to the arm he was hiding behind his back. Her eyebrows rose as the mage before her seemed to take on a new light - he resembled a child with that wide-eyed look. Was this the look Gerda had seen those the many times she had caught her and Anna in the same situation? The thought made Elsa smile.
Elsa gestured to his hidden hand. "What have you got there?" Alphonse seemed to hesitate before producing a jar of honey.
"I couldn't sleep," he tried to explain. "That happens a lot, and milk and honey always helps."
Elsa chuckled at how their situations mirrored each other. "Why don't you put that back and I show you something that works better?" Elsa took a small cloth pouch from a nearby shelf and guided Alphonse to one of the smaller woodstoves, taking a pan out along the way. Wood was already set and ready for the morrow and out of habit, Elsa took out a pair of spark rocks before Alphonse gently took her wrist. He held his hand underneath the pan, allowing it to heat up without leaving ash to be cleaned.
Elsa smiled. "You're quite the timesaver, Mr. Alphonse," she jested. Elsa retrieved the milk Alphonse had removed earlier and poured it into the pan, measuring with practiced ease as the milk simmered. After a few moments, she removed a pair of mugs from a cabinet and poured the milk into them, mixing in the cocoa and sugar from the pouch that would result in the heaven that was hot cocoa. She handed Alphonse a mug and sipped, savoring the taste.
Alphonse watched in quiet fascination as Elsa sipped her cocoa, the tension seeming to drain away from her. The mage breathed in the vapors, his enhanced sense of smell (a holdover from shapeshifting into a wolf) allowing him to sense the sweetness of the sugar and the bitterness of the cocoa. He lifted his mug and sipped, and had to consciously keep himself from sighing. The drink was warm and relaxing, like a nap in front of a fire on a winter's night. It brought back long-buried memories, but for once they weren't painful. Simply comforting.
Elsa picked up on Alphonse's mood and grinned slyly. "Told you so," she said. Alphonse grinned in return, a latent impulse rising.
"You did. I had no idea your magic extended past ice and to potions." Elsa tensed at his words, her anxiety picking back up. How had he known?!
"How did you know about that?" she asked, grateful that her voice remained level. Alphonse smiled reassuringly.
"I can … sense it inside you," he explained. "And even if I couldn't, rumor has spread quite far of the great and beautiful Snow Queen of Arendelle."
Elsa relaxed at his words, gently scolding herself for getting worked up so quickly. Years of repression and secrecy were tough habits to break, though. At least she hadn't lost control and found frost spreading everyw- wait, did he just say beautiful?!
Alphonse, despite his calm facade, raged at himself. "Beautiful" Snow Queen?! What could have possessed him to say that?! Not that she wasn't beautiful - she had looks that would put any other woman to shame - but she probably heard it all the time. Hearing it from a near-total stranger would seem only strange. Alphonse sipped deeply from his mug, hoping it would hide his rising blush.
The pair finished their cocoa in awkward silence and placed the mugs in the sink. Hoping to salvage what good could remain from the situation, and that earlier instinct having deserted him, Alphonse said the first thing that came to mind. "Shall I escort you to your room, milady?" he asked, wincing inside at the stupid-sounding request.
Elsa's eyes widened at the question. But looking into those soulful, mismatched eyes she felt herself answering before she could think. "I would be honored, kind sir," she said, a smile gracing her features.
Unlike the uncomfortable silence from before, the walk back to the royal wing was warm, companionable. When they arrived back at the room, after a few close-calls with the palace guards, Alphonse gave an exaggerated bow.
"My lady's room," he said, voice heavy with mock-formality. Elsa quietly laughed at the mage's antics, so different from the taciturn formality he had introduced himself with.
"Why thank you, good sir," she said, curtsying with as much jest as he. Both young adults gently laughed, sure to keep quite for the princess and prince-consort in the room down the hall. Alphonse looked up, catching elsa's gaze with his own.
"Good night, Elsa," he said quietly, with genuine warmth.
"Good night, Alphonse," Elsa replied, smiling as red bloomed across her cheeks. The queen opened the door to her room and paused, watching as Alphonse entered his own before closing it.
Unbeknownst to each other, both leaned against the doors of their rooms and slid down, thoughts whirring, analyzing every word and gesture over the last half hour. With a frightening yet thrilling mix of confusion and warmth, both had the same thought.
What is happening?
That night, after having dinner with her husband and sister (Alphonse had politely declined their offer of company), Anna lay snuggled against Kristoff and breathing evenly. If she were coherent, she would have realized that she was at the cusp of sleep, balancing the razor's edge between the waking and dreaming worlds. What she couldn't have known, was that this time was the most opportune for … journey. Into various other realms.
Anna knew she was dreaming (or something fairly close) as she looked up at the grey horse before her, easily a head taller than her. It was huge, but that was far from the most bizarre thing about it. The horse pawed at the ground with two feet … its other six feet perfectly still. The horse turned to regard her for a few moments and jerked its head, as if inviting her to mount. Before Anna knew it, she was mounted and the horse was moving.
Anna shrieked in both fear and exhilaration as the eight-legged horse (why did that phrase sound familiar?) swept through the tall grass underfoot, the landscape shrouded in silvery mist. The mist became thicker, denser, almost like a curtain of a waterfall. On a whim, Anna looked up, only to be met with the unbelievably huge leaves of an ash tree, the leaf-tips dripping with dewdrops bigger than her head that evaporated and fed the mist around her.
After what felt like an eternity or two, the horse stopped in its tracks and the atmosphere turned red, like death. Armies appeared around her, born of the mist and fighting … and army of … something not human. That was all she could call them. The things resembled humans, tall strongly-built humans with skin in shades ranging from pale white to stone grey to burning orange. They wielded weapons of stone and wood and bone as they plowed through swarms of men, men surronded by some sort of grey haze. Without knowing how, she knew that the haze was death. Imminent death, death long received.
As she watched, clutching the reins of the horse that had brought her here, a clutch of armsmen charged toward her and melted through her, as if she were a ghost. She turned to see them engage another group of those not-humans, the groups cancelling each other out as they all killed each other. The ground began to shake, cracks forming and water rising from the cracks. Anna knew she should be afraid, but she wasn't. It was like watching a memory that had once frightened her before time dulled the fear into nothing.
A piercing howl echoed across the battlefield and anna turned to see something that actually brought a rise of dread in her gut. A monstrous orange-furred wolf - paws like the castle, body like a mountain, unending maw held open by a massive sword - ran across the battlefield, scooping up warriors of both sides in a mad dash. A gouge followed it from its mouth that brushed the ground, opening like a canyon. The wolf howled again in pain, fury, bloodlust and snapped the sword holding its jaws open and dove for a single warrior.
Anna yelped as the horse yanked her onto its back and bolted with a shrill cry of panic. It ran, somehow, even faster than before and the battlefield faded into silvery mist again, the landscape blurring by. After what seemed like an instant, the horse faded away and Anna tumbled into the grass. She looked up to find a woman looking down at her. It was like looking in a warped mirror. The woman looked like her … but, at the same time … not like her. Like a part of her that was no longer the whole. The woman smiled and faded away …
Anna bolted up, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. What had just happened?! Anna scrambled at the fragments of the dream as it faded away like curls of fog. The details faded, but the big parts remained as if seared into her brain.
Anna settled back onto the mattress, sleep returning at a rate that almost scared her. Whatever that was, she decided, she'd discuss it with Elsa tomorrow.
New chapter. Review on what you think.