Authors note: I want to thank you all for reviewing and reading the last chapter. Hearing your opinions means a lot.
Anyway...the last time we left off Elsa and the firebird had aaaaa...very interesting meeting...will it get better? Only time will tell so please read on, enjoy and review when done as I would like to know how you all like it so far or if you have any questions. :)
The sun had just begun to peek out over the horizon when the Firebird woke the next day. Rising up from his makeshift nest, he yawned as he stretched and beat his wings, wiping out every trace of his previous drowsiness. He considered sunrise to be his favorite time of the day, and he never failed to wake before first light. There was just something poetic about watching the sun make its daily ascent as it bathed the world in warmth and light.
Ggghhrrrk!
Startled, he turned towards the direction of the noise to see Elsa sleeping in a manner most comical. Gone was the living embodiment of poise and elegance, and in her place was a disheveled young maiden. Her hair was loose and stuck up all over the place; her mouth hung open as she drooled onto her pillow; and she was snoring quite loudly, loud enough to wake the dead. She lay curled up on her side, her arms wrapped around another pillow – and if the Firebird had not known better, he could have sworn she was cuddling it as if it were a lover.
He chuckled lightly. 'For our sake, I hope that isn't the case or I'll be very jealous.' But either way, he could not help but be drawn to her. Be it a regal queen in all her splendor or a young demoiselle barely in the cusps of womanhood, there was just a certain allure to Elsa.
Just then, there a knock on the door. "Your Majesty!" Gerda called from the other side, "It's time to wake up."
"She'll be up in a minute!" the Firebird replied. "In the meantime, could you kindly bring two breakfast trays – one with the queen's usual breakfast and one with eggs on toast, a slice of bacon, and a bowl of oatmeal topped with berries and sugar?"
"Yes, right a–" she said, "Uh, wait… …who is this?"
"I take it you haven't heard, then. I'm the Firebird, Queen Elsa's betrothed."
"Alright, enough with the jokes," said the attendant, barging into room. "I don't know what barn you were raised in, but I want you out! This is not a bordello for you to be bedding– Jesus Christ in heaven!" Her jaw dropped open as she stared dumbly at the proverbial elephant – or in this case, firebird – in the room.
"Good morning!" he greeted cheerily.
She bowed meekly. "Oh yes, good morning my bird– er, my lord– Er, what shall I call you?"
"Firebird will do," he said, his tone benevolent. "And how about you? May I inquire your name?"
"I'm Gerda," she told him. "Queen Elsa's lady-in-waiting."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "Nice to meet you, Gerda."
"Y-yes, likewise!" she stammered, bowing again. "I'll inform the cooks of your request, and bring it shortly."
"Alright, take your time," he said. He sighed, listening to Gerda's frantic footsteps as she made her exit. Still, he could not blame her for being nervous. Being a bird of living fire, he did have a rather intimidating appearance; compounded only by the guards telling everyone about their rough encounter with him.
'It's funny how life turns out sometimes,' he mused. 'Especially considering what life was like back then…'
The Southern Isles – Nineteen years ago:
Large families were said to be a blessing from heaven. Not only was it an indication of fertility and prosperity, but it also ensured the survival of the bloodline in the years to come.
One such family was the Royal House of Westergaard. With thirteen sons born to the king and queen, there was no shortage of male heirs; so much so that by the time the youngest – Hans – was born, he was regarded more like a runt, a throwaway spare rather than a blood-born prince.
The poor boy was often neglected by his parents and constantly bullied by eleven of his twelve older brothers. The only family member to ever treat him with any semblance of kindness was the third son, Lars; but even he could do nothing to stop the abuse, as he was too afraid to stand up to his parents and brothers.
"Ow! Stop it!" five-year-old Hans cried as he struggled to break free of Runo's headlock amidst the jeers and taunts of their other brothers. Runo, the ninth son, had always liked to play rough, and as usual, his favorite target was his youngest brother, much to Hans' displeasure.
"Then say it, and I'll stop," Runo cackled as he increased the pressure of his grip, earning a pained whimper from the littlest prince.
"Just do as he says, Hans," Lars put in rather resignedly. "The sooner you do it, the sooner he'll stop."
By now, Hans was finding it quite difficult to breathe, and the pain was just too much to bear. "Uncle, uncle!" he yelped.
Runo laughed maniacally as he finally released his brother. In the process, Hans managed to lose his balance and he fell onto his backside, much to the amusement of his eleven older brothers. But as much as their jeering hurt, it did not hurt as much as watching Lars simply stand by and do nothing.
"Why are you always so mean to me?" he demanded, trying his hardest to hold back his tears. He did not want to give his brothers any more reasons to bully him. "What did I ever do to you all?"
Erik, the second-born, sneered at him. "It's simple, really… It's because you were born."
"That's enough!" Caleb, the eldest, scolded. "You're right…" he said, turning to Hans, "We have been pretty mean to you… But what if I told you that we can change our tune? Provided that you do us a little favor, of course."
"Wh-what kind of favor?" Hans asked warily, not liking the malicious twinkle in Caleb's eye.
"Well, in the garden of the house next door there's a pear tree laden with the sweetest of fruits, or so they say," Caleb told him. "If you get some pears for us, we'll be nice to you from here on out."
It was here that Hans found himself at an impasse. He had no desire to enter the property next door. There was just something eerie about the place – what with the foreboding, ramshackle hut which sat in stark contrast to the lush and fertile garden that would have rivaled the biblical Eden. Even the garden itself seemed rather otherworldly as it maintained its greenery all throughout the year.
Yes, the fruits that grew inside did indeed look appetizing; but to get one of the fruits, the harvester had to be either incredibly brave or exceptionally stupid. Rumor had it that the entire property was owned by a powerful witch. Said witch was said to be a cannibal who feasted on the flesh of young children, and it was rumored that she also had the power to turn people into statues or worse.
But as frightened as he was, the idea of finally being accepted and maybe even respected by his brothers was too great of an opportunity to pass up, and in the end, he found himself agreeing.
Carefully, Hans made his way into the garden next door. Despite the sheer beauty of the place, he did not want to linger a minute more. Fortunately, the owner seemed to be away so he was in no danger of being caught. Walking over to the tree Caleb singled out, he gazed up to find it laden with big, golden pears.
He nervously shifted from foot to foot. Part of him was urging him to turn back and get out while he still could, but he could not back out now. He had gotten this far, and he dreaded to think what his brothers would do if he came home empty-handed.
Throwing all caution to the wind, he climbed up the tree and plucked thirteen pears from its boughs. Having completed the task, he then ran back to his brothers, hoping to finally accepted among the fold and change their relationship for the better. But little did the boy prince know that his life was going to change in more ways than one…
It did not take very long for Gerda to return with the requested meals. She set them on the table by the bay window before leaving to do her other chores.
The Firebird peeked over his shoulder to find Elsa still lying fast asleep. Having decided that she had had more than enough bedrest, he flew over to her and nipped her on the nose.
Startled, the young queen jolted awake, only to wind up entangled in her sheets. In the process, she fell off the bed with a yelp and landed onto the floor in an undignified heap. Sore in more ways than one, she glared up to see the Firebird smirking down at her.
"You know, I was expecting to see a beautiful queen when I woke," he quipped as he hovered over her, "But I suppose you'll do." But behind this cheeky gibe, he truly was concerned for Elsa's psyche. Even though they had just met, he could see that the pressure of the crown combined with years of being groomed as the heir had taken quite a toll on her self-confidence. She was so focused on achieving complete perfection and control to the point that it had become unhealthy. Upon seeing this, he had taken it upon himself to remind her that there were nothing wrong with having flaws and imperfections. After all, it was what made people human.
Bristling with anger, Elsa threw a pillow at him, which he expertly dodged. "Take it easy, Your Majesty," said the Firebird as he glided over to the table. "I was merely trying to wake you up."
"By scaring me half to death?" Elsa half-growled, half-shrieked as she picked herself up from the floor.
The Firebird shrugged. "Well, if the end justifies the means, why not?" He clicked his tongue at her sour expression. "Oh, don't look at me like that– anger doesn't suit you. Here–" He gestured to the two covered trays on the table. "Perhaps some breakfast might perk you up."
Casting him her iciest glare, Elsa took her food and carried it to her bed, determined to keep her distance from her unwanted fiancé.
"Your actions wound my feelings," said the Firebird, his tone laced with mock hurt.
"Be glad that's all that's wounded," Elsa snapped as she angrily bit into her toast.
His sharp gaze bore into her, studying her. "Something tells me you don't like me that much."
Her glare intensified. "If I didn't like you yesterday, what makes you think I like you now?"
"I will admit that I am a bit of an acquired taste." He chuckled lowly. "Then again, I suppose it is possible to hate me so much that it would be impossible for you to hate me any further."
"What nonsense are you spouting off now?"
"It's quite simple really," the Firebird explained with that irritating, self-satisfied smirk, "If you can't hate me any further, then all that is left is for you to like me."
Elsa nearly dropped her spoon at that. She had to admit there was some wisdom behind his words; but he was so smug and so self-satisfied in his approach that she felt like strangling him out of sheer annoyance.
"Even so, how can you say you like or dislike me when you don't even know the first thing about me?" he continued. "We have been together for a day or so, yet we know so little about each other."
"That's because I don't want to get to know you," Elsa hissed.
"Oh but in due time you will…" the Firebird said in a husky tone that sent shivers down her spine. "Now let's eat, I'm famished!" No sooner than he said that, he proceeded to tuck into his meal quite messily, much to Elsa's chagrin.
Elsa averted her gaze, her stomach churning in disgust at his lack of table manners. She could feel her face heat up with ire. Was this churlish creature really going to be her husband? Was this scene before her going to be the norm for every future meal together? It was not fair. Anna's betrothed might be a commoner, but at least he was human and he knew how to act in the presence of royalty. The more she thought about her predicament, the angrier she grew.
"This is delicious!" the Firebird exclaimed between mouthfuls, spraying crumbs as he spoke. "Your cooks are very talented."
Elsa felt something within her snap. The Folkesthing, the betrothal, and now, the Firebird – she just couldn't take it anymore.
"Get out..." she hissed lowly, trembling with barely contain rage. Her spoon was beginning to bend, given how tightly she was gripping it.
"Pardon?" the Firebird asked, looking up at her.
"I said get out of my sight!" she screeched. Suddenly, the Firebird found himself buffeted by a swirling gust of arctic wind and subsequently blown out the window.
"Alright, I'll see you later then!" he called as he flew away. But looking back at his actions, perhaps he had pushed her a bit too far. Elsa had been going through a lot of stress after all, so maybe the gadfly act probably wasn't the best method to get her to lighten up and endear him to her. His eyes blazed with determination. It was time to use a different approach.
"Stupid Firebird," Elsa muttered, locking her window shut. "He probably belongs to some witch."
Seething, she sat at her dressing table and began to work on her hair, brushing it with increasing vehemence. It was the second time in a row that she had lost her appetite, but she was too livid to care. Life just seemed to be throwing her into one stumbling block after another. She wished she had never issued that stupid challenge at all. Of all the things that could have found her arrow, it had to be a troublesome, sarcastic, ill-mannered firebird.
'What did I do to deserve this…?' she moaned as she grasped her platinum strands in frustration. 'No!' she scolded herself, 'You're the queen, you're always in control. He's just doing this to get under your skin, if you crack now, you'll be playing his game!'
"You can do this, Elsa!" she said, staring at her reflection resolutely. "You can still make today a perfect day, and nothing, not even that horrible Firebird can ruin it!" After she had groomed and dressed, she left for her office, pumped by this motivation.
By midday, Elsa felt like throttling someone. Her entire morning had been an absolute terror – The Folkesthing had become more aggressive in questioning her decisions and policies; reports of corrupt magistrates have been increasing, and now, the church was breathing down her back because of the nature of her husband-to-be.
Her foul mood from earlier that morning came back full-force and her nerves were frazzled to the point that she would have snapped at the very first person who did or said something wrong.
Just as she was on her way to lunch, she heard the sound of hysterical laughter coming from down the hall. Based on the pitch and tone, one of the voices was Anna's and the other was that of a young adult male – Kristoff, perhaps.
'Well, at least one of us is having a good day.' The laughter grew louder as she approached the parlor. Seeing that the door was slightly ajar, she poked her head in, intent on inviting Anna and Kristoff for lunch. Perhaps some company could cheer her up.
But much to her shock, it was not Kristoff who was Anna's companion, but rather, the Firebird. And by the look of things, they seemed to be hitting it off quite well.
The Firebird swept his wings elegantly as he and Anna moved to the steps of some court dance. Said dance, however, was not one typical of Scandinavia or of the time period, for that matter. Based on the steps, Elsa surmised that they were dancing a Baroque court dance called the sarabande.
Elsa frowned. As nice as it was to see Anna take her etiquette lessons seriously, having her dance something so outdated just did not sit well with her. She wanted to promote Arendelle as a modern, cosmopolitan nation rivaling the likes of Aquitaine and Britain, not some rustic, backwoods society two centuries behind.
"You really are a good dancer, for a bird," Anna remarked as they concluded the dance.
The Firebird puffed up his chest. "Well I am a being of many talents," he joked. "Okay, okay… Now you have to tell me that story again."
"No way!" Anna laughed, flopping down on the couch. "If Elsa finds out, she'll kill you, then kill me for telling you."
"Hey, we made a deal!" the Firebird exclaimed in mock outrage. I give you dance lessons and you tell me more of your sister."
Anna giggled. "Oh alright… But only because I want to get better," she said, relenting. "So this is what happened… When Elsa and I were kids, Mama and Papa took us on a picnic, and while Elsa was busy reading, I may or may not have snuck a big, hairy caterpillar down her back. You should have seen her, she went absolutely berserk."
"I can imagine," laughed the Firebird. "You should have seen her this morning, she was sleeping like this–" He hung his head back and opened his mouth just as how Elsa did earlier that day.
Anna snorted before bursting into yet another fit of giggles. "And I though I was the only one who slept like that! Now if only she snored."
"Actually she does," the Firebird snickered. "She sounds like a broken-down engine."
"Ahahahahaha!" By now, the princess' face was crimson with laughter. "You don't say?" she chortled, "I thought I was the only one who did."
He chuckled. "Then you two truly are sisters."
Elsa's frown deepened. Normally, she could take a joke in stride, but ever since the whole marriage incident, her patience was being stretched thin. She was about to stomp over to them and give them a piece of her mind, when she heard the Firebird say something that surprised her greatly.
"You're really lucky to have such a loving sister like Elsa," he said ever so wistfully, making the blonde in question stop in her tracks.
Anna beamed. "That's a very sweet thing to say, but Elsa and I are nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, all siblings are loving."
He averted his gaze, finding himself unable to look at her in the eye. After almost twenty years, the wound in his heart had not yet healed. "I hate to disagree, but I disagree…"
"Why?"
"Well, I had a brother once– twelve brothers actually," he told her.
"Really?" Anna gasped, amazed. "Twelve brothers?"
Upon hearing that, Elsa shuddered as she imagined the Firebird's brothers flying in for a visit. 'Oh, perish the thought!' She could barely tolerate one firebird, much less thirteen of them all together. And something in the Firebird's tone hinted that his brothers were a whole lot worse than he was.
"Yes, but given how they treated me, 'brother' might be a misnomer, " he said quietly. "They were awful, cruel bullies. Either way, it doesn't matter– I haven't seen them in ages, and I don't even know if they're alive or dead."
"But what if they wanted to reconcile, to make up for what they've done, would you ever give them a second chance?" Anna asked.
"Honestly speaking, I would say no," the Firebird replied. "I would gladly live the rest of my life never seeing them again."
Anna curled her lip. "That's a bit too harsh, don't you think?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, but that's the sad truth. If you knew what they put me through, you'd be singing a different tune.
"Anyway, why are we talking about such things?" he said, "There are a lot more pleasant topics to discuss, like Kristoff, for example."
Anna's eyes lit up at the mention of her fiancé, and soon began to regale the Firebird with tales of her time together with Kristoff.
As Elsa listened to them chat like life-long friends, she felt her mood lighten up. As long as her baby sister was happy, she was happy. It was nice to know that Anna had made a friend, and from what she could see, the Firebird liked her too. But at the same time, it would be difficult for her to get rid of him if he managed to endear himself to Anna.
'There has to be a way,' she thought as she turned away from the princess and the firebird. 'I will not marry a bird!'
It was late when Elsa decided to turn in for the night, not that she wanted to; but given that she had not seen the Firebird since his chat with Anna, working late into the night was probably the only way to avoid him. She entered her room, hoping he would be fast asleep by then, but much to her dismay, he was still awake and it seemed that he had been waiting for her.
"I take it that your disposition has improved," he remarked.
"Yet seeing you sours it once more," she retorted.
"As acerbic as ever, I see," the Firebird observed. "You should really learn to take a page or two from your sister."
"Yes, yes… I saw you talking to her," Elsa replied dismissively. She was irritable, tired, and in absolutely no mood to deal with the Firebird and his dry wit. She just wanted to call it a day and pray that the Firebird was nothing more than a bad fever dream.
"Anna's a lovely girl," he went on. "Friendly, cheerful, a bit of a chatterbox, but hey– nobody's perfect."
Elsa sneered. "If you like her so much, why don't you go stay by her side then? The two of you seem to get along swimmingly well."
He smirked. "Well, well! Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?"
Elsa scoffed. "Ha! As if I'd be jealous of such a thing! Were that to happen, it would be a godsend for both her and me."
"So it seems," said the Firebird. "But as it stands, you are my fiancée, not her. Speaking of which, I have yet to procure my betrothal gift to you." From his nest, he fished out a tiny, little box and presented it to her.
Upon seeing it, a heavy lump formed in Elsa's throat. There could only be one thing inside that box, and as much as she wanted to reject it, she knew she could not. With trembling fingers, she took the box and opened it, staring blankly at the ring that lay inside.
Made of white gold filigree and set with tiny diamonds, two on each side; its craftsmanship was exquisite – that, Elsa would not deny. And at its center was a large blue stone that twinkled ever so brilliantly.
"It's a blue diamond," the Firebird explained, "It was given to me as a thank-you gift by Austrian royal family."
Elsa blinked, surprised. "How do you even know the Austrian royal family? They were deposed years ago!"
"I wouldn't want to burden you with such a long, tedious tale," he told her, "But to sum it short, let's just say it involved a pair of cursed red dancing shoes." He hopped onto the table, leaning close to her. "But enough about that– Do you like my little gift?"
Elsa wanted to say no, but she knew she would be lying if she did. The ring truly was a work of art, and the more she looked at it, the more she wanted to wear it herself.
She mentally shook her head. 'No! How shallow can you be to be so easily swayed by cheap trinkets?'
'But think about it,' said her more devious side, 'With a ring your hand, would definitely put a stop on all these unwanted marriage proposals. And for the record, it is quite pretty.'
With that thought, she decided to take the ring and put it on. It was a perfect fit, and much to her amazement, it suited her quite well. 'Did he get some input from Anna?' she wondered as she gazed at it admiringly.
A rich chuckle brought her out of her reverie. She turned to see the Firebird smirking at her victoriously. "I'll take that as a yes."
The queen blushed, embarrassed at having been caught so easily. "That may be so, but this changes nothing."
His smirk grew wide still. "Oh I wouldn't too sure about that…" He locked eyes with her, the resolve in those green depths piercing through her very being. "Remember my dear, the war is still far from over."
To be continued...
Beta and cover image: Nightrain and Brownstone
Authors note: Seems Elsa met her match. He is going to drive her insane lol
Now if only she knew how close to the truth she got when she said "He probably belongs to some witch".
Any way please hope you all enjoy this chapter and please review and stay tuned for the next one for things are about to get very interesting for Elsa now that she has the Firebird around.